Bad Crow

It's the same ol'.
I must be broken to
Reveal my sincerity.
My truth be hungry.
It's been starved and
Here come these crows.
In sunlight or in moonlight,
I look the same.
Broken.
Shameless.
Open.
I attract these crows.
Weakened and gray like charcoal,
27yrs, see that red Saturn star,
Sparkling off damp pavement.
It's not a shimmer,
It's not a glimmer,
It's warning.
I've attracted these crows.
In sunlight or in moonlight,
I appear the same,
Broken.
Shameless.
Bad crows are gonna
Swallow me whole.
These bad crows are
Gonna swallow me whole.
They'll take my life,
Let it be written.
Lover crow, come lover crow,
You better swallow
Me whole.
Lover crow better swallow me whole,
Cause these bad crows,
They want my soul.

Your Move

Past civilizations submerged by the sea are allegorical of present societies that are weighted and anchored by their corrupt convictions, finding themselves grounded on what is now a murky sea floor, where oil meets wave and an undertow of 99 cent plastic perpetuates their only substantial ruins for history's log. Their anchor of conviction is stubborn enough to risk the lives of all who cling to it as the sea rushes over. Those choosing to let go and rise for surface, rise for fresh air—leaving those old etched-out surfaces to be worn and swept away by powerful tides of new and changing currents. May the waters ever recede: a cleansed soul will be reveled at through their eyes. Only the modern plastic ruins will have washed away, leaving the sacred stones of the ancients to remain for history's teachings. And then, once again, we choose our influence and we rebuild.

Flames

We slept in flames. 

Both singed and 

tortured by denial, 

sexual smoldering embers 

turned charred black ashes. 

We burned.   

Worldy-Go-Round

 Place your hand over your heart to feel the muscle that supplies existence. Smile to calm a situation as well as ease an uncomfortable mood. Cross over into a loving mindset to experience a quality that changes it all; release a spirit to travel farther than the body. Then, a purpose appears. Unveiled and raw, our personal will declares through our own awareness—secrets have currently unfolded. Combustion: a flame of identity, a flame of unique intrigue, this is now You. All is understood without comprehension. You are now a burning flame, but much more than fire, you are existence. Components, reactions, and consequences—elementally gentle, momentarily hostile, chaotically excavating, questioning, disrupting, somehow converging, and relentlessly loving, even while hating. Flickering, burning, and learning. Some would say transgressing. We are charming with chilling elegance, nevertheless, we may just become charming and timeless, and material possession-less beyond the occupancy of our seductive flesh, our muscle over bone, our portal of magic—but here we happen to be, everyday, communing and wandering, roaring and crying, never shying from duty to feel another’s heart, whether through corruption or sincerity, healing or infecting—all while knowing that the heart, the loving mind, and the smile, makes the world go round.