Poems number #4
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Phantasmal cocoon

Only way is into the woods
dark woods full of light
multihued highlights
colored dreams of citrine
and peridot
thin leaves shone through
to cast their chlorophyll gaze
down upon my face
I can't tell if it is safe anymore
if it happens to be an illusion
if maybe it will change
so I walk the path
old branches crumble beneath my feet
while the still green twigs bend and whip
if not crack as I walk
The fear is transparent
as my joy becomes one
I run
labored breathing is forgotten
my heart longs to be free
to dance in the crystalline sun
so I fall as many dancers
rainbow twirls
on the needle coated floor



We want an Electronic Shepherd!

The robot spite out junk
while the children
gaze at milky black
not really comprehending the trash before them
taking it in nonetheless
used up space
soon to be thrown away
Silver sheen, razor teeth
children are scared
that he might ask a question
any
since they don’t understand
its just following orders
no emotional attachment, its a machine
not a TV
The wonderful parent that teaches more
than school or family ever could
brainwashing, mind control
on a whole new level
that religion and state barely have a handhold on
Teacher Teacher
we hate you, man without a heart
only a mind
that spins and whirls
with a tornado of numbers and formulas
and hidden devices of
subliminal messages
to teach views
different in agenda than our beloved airwaves
have in store
Buy, want, need, desire, hurry
Get out of our heads
Leave us alone
we are only a flock hoping
for green pastures
not willing to think
of the future
fall
when a cleaver comes a calling
and we lose some members
but its okay
we have our grass
we have our peace
just leave us alone
on the couch
to watch TV
our shepherd, protector, teacher.
Controller????

Pondering Time’s Reflection on Life

Where is the time asked Alice To Nymph
its run away from its post
to leave us behind
Nymph replies its too fast for us
no matter how hard we try
we can’t catch up
But my parents are good friends with it
they talk, and pass the hours with cards.
For youth it runs and for the aged it slows
to dream, to reminisce, to just be there
a companion
Only than do we catch up Alice and
sometimes get ahead, as long as we
keep our pace.
Is that why youth is fleeting, why it is never
taken seriously until its too late, or is it because
time doesn‘t want to be bothered so an
illusion is cast?
Its hard to say, the trees barely acknowledge it
and the insects seem to treasure it
but time is a fickle friend
even more so than luck.
It blows you when excitement grows
and comforts you in times of need.
Time likes peace and quiet, and youth
is something
that rarely has that, wouldn’t you say
Alice?
I don’t really understand, maybe when I am
older I can truly be versed in why time
always flies before innocence is burst.



Ride the Coast


Morpheus come make me sleep
to dream a heaven
in this hellish reality
of motherless children
and crack addicted brothers
where families are more of a concept
to the faceted clock
more than 12 or 24
world where flowers dried and wet on a newborn’s grave
are blown away with a careless breeze created by the torn down forests crying their shame and the fields of wheat playing a game The numbers of love seem to diminish as numbers of fear rise
along the corrupted minds of the poor
usually the children
who are no more
innocent pinched
like a slipped disk
due to a rugged game of wrestling
usually with yourself, your conscience
pain that never goes away
but sleep can only hold this wave, tsunami
back only for a little while
before it comes down crashing upon the shore
coral scrapping much from the rising slumberer
the awakening
unwanted and sudden
where ever our eyes open
to the world
sometimes with wide eyed wonder and others closed fear



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