Soft Spoken

So soft, subtle, the intent of life.
I love the passion of silence.
Walk slow, and go with the feeling.
Live.

If my heart says yes,

I will try.

Relax.

Breathe.

Take your

time.

And don't forget

To smile.

We would travel in packs, if we had a choice.

Why?

Weave, entwine, your life with the

people.

All people.

Never reject a chance

To be close with someone.

Touch.

Me, you-

In the eyes.

We would see better that way.

A smile stays

With the beauty

Of natural living.

Be soft, as

A piece of silk

Floating.

Dance with Me

As the hand holds the pencil,
There is balance.
The pencil can say nothing
Without the hand.
And the hand has no reader-
Nor listener.
Rhythmic writing brings new meaning to both lives,
When you see hand and pencil
Dancing together.
The pencil doesn't even
Leave the hand when it wants
To change its mind.
In one quick motion, the pencil,
With its five finger balance,
Moves on the dance floor of
Paper, canvas, and body.
There starts a masterpiece.

The Morning Paper

Terrifying night
Longing for some real comfort
Lost in my own mind.

Beautiful morning
Sun rise for a perfect day
Now let's start living.

The mug celebrates
the coffee. My eyes enjoy
This familiar scene.

I sip the sunlight.
It spills on my hands and face:
Perfect accident.

I wish i could stay
Wrapped up in blankets for life
Hugging a giant.

But when the time comes
For the day to get started,
The clock starts to tick.

And when the time comes
For the day to get started,
I look less like me.

Where do i wind up
Between the hours of dawn-dusk?
Why does this happen?

Because the sun brings
Only what we can't admit:
Tomorrow is here.

Tree House

Teenage lust:
It's as old as a tree.
100 years, still with the intent to grow.
Society cuts us down.
But not me, or you.
In New York, we would be
Central Park.
In the ocean, we would be an island.
In a forest, we would be a seed:
Young, but strong.
I am a seed,
And you,
My Planter,
View nothing more
Important than
Nourishing me.
Show me some light
And i will grow,molding
To your excitement.
And when the leaves are
There and the bark is strong,
People think
long term,
Ruining the innocence.
And before we know it,
We get
Cut. Down.
And become yet another
House in the suburbs.

Gone

It is cold dark and humid, inside my mind.
Unbearable really,
Like a fresh wound being drenched
In alcohol.
There is something not right,
i can't explain.
My heart doesn't beat status Que.
Sometimes i wish i was drowning
in an empty abyss.
Looking at the world in
redundant motion,
Alone.
i am always alone.
Even with one hundred people,
i sit in
solitude.

Nothingness

What is the shape of space?
Where are its dimensions,
Where are the numbers to such nothingness?
-i hope that's a mystery we try not to figure out.

Reborn

If I could meet you over again
i would tell you to sing.
Express your soul
let your emotions take hold and sore.
Frowns are what makes the sunset
as we leap into tomorrow.
Tom-or-row that one you taught me to spell
in sixth grade,
the same year i lost you,
to a sun raise of amusement
drugs, slipped into your minds eye
and blinded you.
But this time is going to be different
because of me.
i was too young before,
lost in a plethora of games
a virtuosity of different words for
young,
as i sat and watched unknowingly while your sun set.
Though right now i can see right through to you,
what is in your heart.
So lets hold hands
and watch the sun raise
Tomorrow.

Dream

Strip the enslaved body of wisdom

owned by the headless views of reality

Hug like silhouette secrets.

Desire, think, watch, live,

the muse