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Freedom One

The free rise up
with liberty
on their side,
seizing every opportunity
this world can provide

With no ties
to be cut
or longing for wealth,
there’s nothing to risk
except freedom
and health

As incident transpires
independence is prey,
to forces suppressing
civil truths
they could say

This injustice
leaves the virtuous
with no voice,
as wounded spirits
are left
with one choice

Splintered strength
must unite
in alliance,
as peaceful accents
are imposed
into silence

Collected minds
need to merge
in this riot,
free from control,
so their rivals
can't deny it

Though caged notions
of will
are imprisoned,
they still scale barriers
initially envisioned

Glory seemed imminent
until the horizon
then shattered,
drowned daylight
and nearly everything
that mattered

Stolen was the ability
to see the day
as it passed,
now left with
just one thing
of which
was owned last

It is something
that no one
could take away
or could see-
a soul that’s aware
and knows
it is free






Today Then Tomorrow

The daily sequence
can sway motion
for submission,
unless the pride
fueling essence
fights that vision

Power is confidence
and knowing
who you are,
an admission of limits,
and what distance
is too far

The awareness of faults
and regard
for good traits,
guides intuition
to where grace

In a journey for identity
wisdom ascends,
today then tomorrow,
until life’s calendar






Until Never Met When

Suddenly eyes open,
and you see a new day,
you’ve been here before
and in a similar way

A time already
this anthem was sung,
you moved so foolish
because you were young

There was no way
you'd arrive again,
or so you thought,
until never met when

So here it is-
a stage to perform,
an event to rewrite
regret once born

This moment and place,
features spotlights beaming,
a focus that still
barely highlights meaning

In dark crowds
those close turn bright,
until legions fuse
and you become
the light

In this room
lay the juncture
of legend,
captured swift
with two hands
before the coincidence
is mentioned






Win From Within

brings with it
certain things

When castle walls
without notice
by frustration
are breached,
it brings a relapse
of poor habits
as crossroads
are reached

With attention divided
by diversions of process,
it forces
even the driven
to reassess
what the cost is

The problem is local,
needing a restart
to begin,
with a course to accept-
you need to win
from within

Don’t chase seductions
that tempt
with their promise,
see yourself
through the struggle,
not in conditions dishonest

Embrace the moment
toward a righteous
with strength
from the victory
over doubt and delusion






Patient Fee

In a resistance
to what others
will do,
lay the price
of a struggle
to wage through

Strict discipline
amid towers
of dishonor,
detour paths
toward journeys
often longer

Tough travel
on trails
unpaved but required,
is a triumph
rarely recognized
but quietly admired

While the impatient
settle in safe patterns,
the prudent
chart purpose
in crucial matters

Those decisions
merge fractions
of pure meaning-
a patient fee
that is needed
for believing 






Still Summer

In the summer,
at this table,
serenity shines,
as the wind
flutters slow
in a mood
carefully designed

Energy in the air
as birds
dive on through,
while neighbors
mull around
just doing what they do

Worn pavement
provides contrast
for beauty to grow,
as patterns emerge
with still chaos in tow

Composure prevails
while the world
breezes by,
as this peace
authors moments
a busy life will deny 






Sad Axis

From a yellow
at midnight,
came daylight

In this center
of greatness
and tremendous flaw,
they slow
among commerce
in a state of awe

A synthetic rush
has senses shifting,
as the more
that’s explored
corrupts each
merging victim

At a time in the world
when most
are at rest,
confide secrets
these corners confess

It's a polar paradox
to cold urban blocks,
with walkways
of mobs
and doors
without locks

There are mountains,
not here,
crushing slogans
and clichés,
real places
of true beauty,
unlike this
flamboyant maze

How can this
be an axis
where society spins,
as neon glows
mask a sadness
lurking shallow within

Please explain
why this idea
holds attraction,
as it's just a circus
that survives
for distraction






New Rules

This is what you do
in a given position,
as rising status
bears standards
and a suggested vision

At first unsure
of steps to pursue,
past tendency yields
on new passages
to pass through

Now stumbling
with discretion
to win a part
in this play,
you lean on walls
and on others
just to find
the next day

Old rules
become altered
in stage shows ahead,
as risk dances
to melodies
of whatever is said

With ascension higher
humility is essential,
small success
should give way
to a next time’s

Broader concepts
with firm repetition,
as flat scenarios
into tangible non-fiction

Chances ahead
corralled raw yesterday,
become today’s moves
in new games
that are played






The Plan

I sat down
to try
and write a plan,
in an attempt
to be
a businessman

I find it’s not
a quality in me,
maybe I’m filled
with too much

But there’s the catch,
I’m selling
a part of myself,
some thoughts
and theories
to collect dust
on some shelf

And typical me,
instead of a plan
I write a poem,
stocking void spaces
in my mind
and my home 






Vanilla, Chocolate and a Thousand Doors

It’s a process,
constantly adapting
every day

We are witness
to a maturing filter,
with tendency translated
by varied strokes

This winding,
waffle-cut canal,
guides the ego
through vast cavities
of the mind

Early views
are ample
and in random order,
as youthful thoughts
spill scattered
like loose change
on a kitchen table

Adolescents converse
without concern,
naive to context
and the weight
of spoken language

Older now,
concepts swell
like injured limbs-
a result of society's
jagged flow

During this stage
we still carelessly
as quick bolts
strike sharp notes
in changing scenes

We learn by failure
where success
may truly lie,
still lacking
the perspective
for convictions
to compel belief

As years mount
poise permits
refined feelings
to flow through,
forging intellect
now elaborate
in form

In simpler times
it was vanilla
or chocolate,
but now
you’re in a room
with a thousand doors

From lengthy trials
of testing attractions,
values mature
and sustain
for survival

Complex issues
launch gauntlets
for sound verdict,
a digestion method
from open eyes
to a tempered heart

Gaping pathways
are now pinholes
in the mind’s fabric,
shielding essentials
from disruptions
of progress

At faint points
our movement
changes course,
as impulse
drives strides
for longevity

New circles merge
as others
break apart,
while the reality
of circumstance
calls for resilience
to arise

Strength shown
declines slow
but persistent,
leaving only pride
and past actions
to repel collisions

Once again
our options
are limited,
now bypassing rooms
with a thousand doors,
to decide between
vanilla or chocolate









Wind From a Shadow

(For Leroi Moore)

Amid rhythms
a powerful sound-
air charged with beauty,
soothing heaven
to the ground

As flights of performance
blitzed rampant
to his right,
he set styles
for evenings
in the outskirts of lights

While assaults commenced
he sketched
careful projections,
as ambition met eardrums,
precise flair
was accented

Thunderous notes
hailed fierce arrows
in a battle-
a crescendo immortal,
by the wind
from a shadow 







Adored points
you lay
your foundation on,
are one day here
and the next year

Periods played out
in these rooms
of transition,
they influenced
who you are
and shaped
your decisions

There were friends
and others
you spent time with,
granting them entrance
to caverns once hid

In these walls
a few regrets
may still echo,
as petty missteps
attached to doorknobs
you can’t let go

It seemed
like a carousel,
filling memoirs
to come,
once close
and now gone,
as time’s course
it has run






Sum Distance

The distance
from silence
is what truly
divides us

We're fearful
and avoid
or chance,
as shy prisoners
to our frailty
and what it demands

The unspoken
says everything
in matters of importance,
as saying nothing
buys security
even though
we can’t afford it

The reluctance
to whisper
vital thoughts
in the air,
is largely the reason
there are burdens
we share

While the platform
grows larger
risk also expands,
as hesitation prevents
the forward motion
of plans

With a step out of line
a rush of anxiety
as the sum
of that length
is the only distance
that counts






Passion Sans Action

Those swift to complain
things are imperfect,
skip uninformed stones
ignoring the depth
of the surface

Full of vigor
and passion
that never stirs action,
they become
fiends for revolution,
fueled by overreaction

Not seeing a change
in their life
promotes disillusion,
as puppeteers polarize
with elaborate moves
of confusion

While grinding
among gears
for survival and means,
they feel
the one percent
bandage up,
as the other
ninety-nine bleeds

So reckless
they swing
hollow pillars
of opinion,
blind to all sides
of an argument,
and get lost
when within one

That’s the problem
with their claim-
not having
the clarity to see,
things do  need fixing,
but first
passion and action
must agree






Man Unkind

Our lust for consumption
is more than it seems,
as the thirst
of mankind
defines what
consequence means

Though some innovate
with desperation
to prosper,
populations exhaust
what this home
can now offer

Soaring societies
push supply
to new heights,
while bottom lines
misguide us
as this globe
is sacrificed

The pursuit is high
for the soil
and it’s treasures,
with the aim
to set standards
through any
necessary measures

As dark gold
triggers doom
terrain becomes prey,
in the hunt      
for what's buried
and mined
the next day

bring hard times,
but not to the buyer
or producer,
it's the atmosphere
that's burdened
when loopholes
become looser

Industrial showers
are blusters
that blanket throughout,
from rolling tides
of pollution,
to heat waves
and drought

History is burned
with the genocide
of forests,
as the uninvited
brand areas
like a tour bus
of tourists

Slow trauma
affects channels
as mighty waters divert,
creating banks
without interest
for the poorest
it hurts

Defrosted realms
the process of order,
while warmed oceans
stir disaster
as calm seasons
grow shorter

Calls for duty
are widespread
with sparse feats
that ensue,
as listeners assume
there's a supply
of days
to work through

As one hand recycles
the other one wastes,
furthering an imbalance,
of a landfill's estate

Clashing habits
cloud commitment
between concern
and convenience,
and instead
of a panic,
it’s a race
to who’s greenest

Not just progress
and programs
can solve problems
we've created,
a genuine effort
is needed
to mend a world






Cold Wooden Doors

Behind cold wooden doors
numerous plans
as selections are crafted
by governing hands

There’s hope
every option
is weighed,
not which lavish hand
will best be paid

In the company of few
are bridges of choice-
and vision
proclaimed in one voice

As daring leaders
attempt tremendous things,
they brace the rest
for the reaction
it brings

They're bold steps
in a staircase
that spirals unique,
then pitched
to it’s audience
through swaying technique

Trust is digested
in portions
integrity permits,
and while diligence
critiques guidance,
results intermix

Stoic rooms
and the voices
that vibrate in chapter,
are footprints to follow
of parades
that come after

Converged roads
veer to paths
now provided,
behind cold wooden doors
where the future
is decided






Legacy Bullets

Dense stories
in brief facts,
are legacy bullets
in the perspective
they lack

Bodies of work
are stripped down
to bare bones,
leaving phrases behind
etched in books
or on stones

Decades spent building
reputation and respect,
are whittled to points
with eternal effect

Last impressions
span lifetimes
in chronicle and legend,
defining value
in connotation
when something
is mentioned

A ‘one who did that’
or ‘they’re known for this,’
while the rest
of their life
the historians miss

Achievement can vanish
in a moment’s blur,
crafting scars
on a timeline
as allegations occur

The devastation of status
by a few words
or actions,
lures common conclusions
from immediate reactions

We must consider
and understand
the larger view,
not just legacy bullets
that will be fired
at you






Con Sequence

Greed incites plots
without warning shots,
as profiteers blend
among shadows

Chaos and fear
manufactures a chance
that sinister agendas
will soon advance

From malicious wishes
come senseless dynamics-
a plan put in motion
so that everyone panics

With directives repeated
like a chorus in song,
stark end games unravel
while the rest sing along

We're embedded
in a scheme
beyond the option
to revise,
as minds once sanitary
are now vandalized

Sifting through opinions
can stunt ambitions,
casting suspicion
of any approaching

By now
lies are entangled
in truth,
and either one
discredits anything
you can prove

Choosing sides
draws dissent
with the other,
as arguments escalate
that contradict
one another

is a distraction
of what the influential
are doing,
and they’ll keep winning
until it's realized
we’re losing






Press Control, Alternative Deletion

How often
do you question
what you believe,
as doubt
dawns scrutiny
of information

In early stages
forceful views
are ingrained,
invading ears
too naïve
to abstain

If it benefits
their cause,
they’ll march
without pause,
to extend
their mission
upon you

An endeavor
through devotion
shape beliefs
now in reach,
a translation
of principles
that no tenet
can teach

As convictions build
and grow stronger
in command,
it's what's left
to influence
that stays
high in demand

Companies consort
to condense
all our choices,
toward aisles narrated
by their carefully
placed voices

We're evaluated
each moment
for profits to win,
while sometimes
only mattering
in what demo
you're in

Plotted on charts
by sex, age,
and income,
they bank
on a formula
their next customer
you’ll become

The new pollution
is promotion
staining streets
and our eyes,
conditioning our mind
even more
than we realize

With control
of the press
and media intake,
comes the deletion
of alternatives
and verdicts to make

Cycle Paths

It starts out as an idea,
an ideal that it seems,
a passionate interest
produced out of dreams

What began as a hope
careens out of control,
no longer in charge,
as others
proxy your soul

An appetite for success
once innocent,
now gags in disgrace
even nightmares
can’t invent

Discord arrives
as glossy smiles
are shined,
while blueprints
for reversal
like variety
seem confined

With the less thinking
that’s done
more goals are achieved,
a saturation directed
towards clients received

The only defense
is to challenge
what’s brought
before you,
and if not,
another cycle
will move through






Solemn Infinity

Greed runs the world
the world defies change
change congests pockets
pockets endorse hope
hope promotes progress
progress meets tradition

Tradition divides values
values test compassion
compassion battles justice
justice juggles morality
morality conceals motive
motive evokes reaction

Reaction awakens prejudice
prejudice kindles discussion
discussion whispers revision
revision duels resistance
resistance scars harmony
harmony becomes compromise

Compromise ignites fury
fury drowns logic
logic seeks dialogue
dialogue forces humility
humility weakens ego
ego craves redemption

Redemption requires faith
faith creates conflict
conflict invites struggle
struggle bears evolution
evolution derails structure
structure stunts movement

Movement spurs invention
invention shapes opportunity
opportunity fuels achievement
achievement develops greed
Greed runs the world
the world defies...






Sand to the Sea

Grab it tight,
and hold it close,
now throw away
the remnants
before someone else

A crash is coming,
you can see it build,
sell your sand
to the sea,
even though
it's overfilled

Grains of earth
splash soft
on the surface,
returning quick
to the coast
and origin of purpose

One handful lost
seems like
a harmless motion,
not realizing
this destroys
the fragile floor
of the ocean

Forecasting status
is drowned
by ambition,
ignoring warnings
with deaf ears
to past wisdom

A little off the top,
surely no one
will suffer,
until tsunamis rage
corrupting systems
without buffer

As abuse detonates
new fiery effects,
blazes burn doorways
where excess
was unchecked

Ashes like sand
are tossed back
to the fray,
hoping soon
for forgiveness,
and the start
of a new wave






Democracy is dying
from years of neglect,
as we’re the targets
where money
and politics

Revered halls
once roamed
by noble figures,
now house a lobby
full of snipers
with hair triggers

They coin slogans
and craft
careful sound bites,
as words
become daggers
in campaign fights

Combating each other
is not the true goal,
it’s saying what sells
to win the next poll

Senses are bombarded
by news bandits
and punch lines,
so pundits mask facts
to boost ratings
in primetime

Colliding panels
of viewpoints
then debate every topic,
hoping soapboxes
become plateaus
to ride trends
of skewed logic

As staff soldiers
conspire to strike low,
they destroy candidates
and create monsters
for show

we’re pawns
in a process
for two factions,
they push buttons
and pull strings
to draw favor
and reactions

There's protest
for changing
the way things
are done,
still we support
for operations they run

We’re fools
thinking two colors
embody this nation,
because blue
and or red
can't reach
green or gold






Current Condition Change

Let the wind blow
and carry away
any distractions
spawn today

A gathering zephyr
from zenith to ground,
is a blistering reminder
from the smoothest sound

The constant chaos
of a directional gust,
transparently shades
any setting it must

Traveling in currents
not defying momentum,
now open to options
of a climate’s conception

It persuades the static
to respect it’s position,
convincing those waiting
to join this new mission

As the wind blows
through counties and fields,
few oppose the conditions
this phenomenon yields






Three Black Dresses

If we ever see
their three black dresses,
we'll know
part of this world
has collapsed

There's concern,
and a sobering fear,
that feels guilty
to imagine,
but all too possible
to ignore

Prayers spread
across oceans
for his boundless spirit,
may not prevent
the horror
from happening

This country
is not without tragedy-
there is remorse
in our soil,
and cynicism
in our hearts,
but this would
dull devotion
to advance still

Though buildings
have collapsed
in grand cities,
if he falls
hope may die with him,
leaving mourners
sifting through
senseless debris
of despair

We'd move on,
there'd be no choice,
he is not
the last flicker
of salvation,
just the latest
to brave
a surplus of rage

If we see them,
in their three black dresses,
who knows
what will follow






Obsolete Creeds

Beliefs from religion
are obsolete creeds,
as those saving souls
are actually
dignity thieves

Primitive precepts
cause less pleasure
than pain,
as senseless bylaws
endure to restrain

Customs are forced
through suppression,
by the costumed
and their pious aggression

Shaking stances instilled
from before
you could reject them,
is difficult
but necessary
for a spiritual connection

You must construct
what makes sense
from everything
you’ve seen,
not honoring traditions
you're not sure
what they mean

Internal fidelity
should develop
into something you prize,
not a code of indulgence
to secure
your demise

How can you pray
to sacred characters
that have killed,
supporting myths
that wild prophecies
were fulfilled

Science is real,
not fairy tales
and hearsay,
there wasn't
a week's worth
of creation
with still time
for an off day

Important answers
aren't easy-
you can't find them
in a book,
they live in your heart,
and your head,
but only if you look

The world today
changes every moment,
sin has evolved
and so should

No God
or theology
is right,
or true,
it's just humanity
has moved forward
and will continue
on to






Those Who Murder God

Faith is complex
among various systems,
with every coalition
flares variance
and a contradiction
of visions

God is being murdered
by those thinking
they serve under blessing,
while condemning anyone
who entertains
second guessing

For cause,
for country,
or leverage to seize,
live and die
with numb agents
and what they believe

Interpretation of tales
many centuries aged,
are not grounds
for crusade
or ensuing clashes

This merciless sermon
malicious deeds,
while missions
stay veiled
as their enemy bleeds

Defiance is futile,
in acceptance
lay salvation,
not warfare vowed
with those vulnerable
in nations

Killers by decrees
of a star,
or moon,
shame the heritage
of the graves
in Babylonia's dune

As symbols shatter
to prove conventions,
scorn citizens
crave bounties
via vengeance
and elections

No credo is clean
of secrets and measures,
as fanatics brew storms
the rest of us

As the procession
where saviors are slain,
more regions are poisoned
from violence
in their names





Warning, Destruction, Collateral, Aftermath

Fierce words
of these warnings
seen before
without tremor,
return in a fury
both sides
will remember

The execution of strategy
played on torn fields,
ensures a defense
will have a test
of its shields

Civil growth
is washed away
like it's beach sand,
as the earth’s salt
is peppered
by those following
game plans

The waltz of pressure
and relentless grips,
greet those affected
like a wrecking ball
to the lips

What was standing
lay asleep
now in dust,
a deceased structure
from one sonic thrust

The parallel results
from a promise
layer each road
in wreckage
and motive

Pinpoints of impact
dissolve into sorrow,
as the day
eats the night
dreading what comes

Plagued landscapes
a threat now fulfilled,
leaving no option
for exit,
just the task to rebuild






Nina and the Night Air

The skyline,
and the night air-
can’t explain the feeling,
and don’t really care

Union with the evening
as the cold
comforts me,
she sings
with a suffering,
but so beautifully

Tall highway lights
curve in sync tonight,
guiding all motion
with no destination
in sight

As the bellows
of ballads
meet the swirling breeze,
it tames wild winds
with the slightest
of ease

Spare moments
between syllables
resonate loud,
as music splits routines
of the night’s
growing shroud

While audio
washes a freeway
with flair,
all was just fine
with Nina
and the night air






Cemetery of Ideas

Ominous crying trees
act as borders,
in a crowded
cemetery of ideas

Unfinished headstones
litter crooked rows
of abrupt notions;
“ a piece about the
way things seem to…”

Muses mourn
for buried potential,
scrutinizing maneuvers
that could've saved
the tenants
of this place

With regret
they socialize
through the night,
comparing form
while their capacity
pales with time

As ghosts conspire
to find freedom
from this limbo,
new winds of verse
blow the tears
off of branches






Gallery of Nonsense

Dare we dream
or do dreams
dare we,
leading tours
through a gallery
of messages to see

Constant nonsense
makes no sense
but at the moment
seems sound,
while a suspension
of perception
ushers sanity around

Puzzles of illusions
conjured in the night,
celebrate us at a party
with company
we didn’t invite

Theories run wild
to explain
this experience,
from subconscious attractions,
to a sifting
of interference

As closed eyelids
promote mystery
that's dormant within,
the mind clears a runway
where adventures begin

The Long and Short Night

Anticipation for morning
and what it will bring,
at this moment
taunts excitement
that ruins everything

Sleep is suspended
by a working mind,
exhausting methods
to slow down
and unwind

Possibilities race
around tracks
built of promise,
as darting thoughts
sprint on paths
of composure upon us

Scenarios unfold
like new maps
in lost hands,
clasping sluggish
fallen fragments
of astray slumber plans

In the end,
this fatigue
defeats you,
as the night before
becomes the day
you need
to live through






Passed On

At any point,
but ample degrees
engineer gaps
between generations

All societies
share critical events,
constructing corridors
and levels of morality

Inside barracks
housing these crowds,
lust floods shorelines
bound by flesh,
and indulgence

Ignorance loots decades
of understanding
everything about anything,
by the short-sighted nature
of flawed doctrines

The shame is that
shallow wisdom
through too few
defiant enough
to challenge
assumed methods

These designs
perhaps wholesome
in their origin,
breed corruption,
then passed on
as if a breeze
from one tree
to the next

Mistakes made once
will manifest again,
with refusal
to cross borders
between stubbornness
and compromise

Minor moments
of momentum
shake standards,
shaping status
for the powerless
at crucial times

There is endless hope
for humanity,
that with vigilant travel
on altered circuits,
sparks can merge
into firestorms
of possibility

That glimmer
of potential
shines over crowds,
brighter than
the eclipse
shading new terrain
and it’s nuance

Whether sons
and daughters
realize the faults
or the insight
of mothers and fathers,
is nothing less
than the difference
changing the world
for better or worse






Refuel For Bloom

all it takes
is a push

Those tiny moments
or delicate gestures,
refuel desire
in desolate times

Bare fields stripped
of essence
are renewed
by lone seeds
of acclaim

As inclines level
and motivation
turns scarce,
simple praise
raises ranges
that pierce ceilings

These thrusts become
poignant memories,
in the soil
where new inspiration
will bloom







Random page,
work chose,
read aloud,
book closed

Language grows,
time elapses,
perfection sought,
grasp amasses

Spirit builds,
courage surges,
savvy sharpens,
cognition merges

Author pleased,
critic assured,
quality found,
control restored






Rush to Conquer

They're painful-
those moments
of humility

A difficult discovery
of vulnerability
can ambush
like a New England
summer storm

Bursts of concern
take hours to calm
and negotiate
between proof
and anxiety

Inflection sets
the narrative now,
as reasoning
grapples furious
with nerves

As terrible thoughts
spill a glass
cautious drops
of resolution
rise slow

Mental claims
are exclaimed
defiant to strife,
conquering cavalries
of opposition
to come






Five Words

Again she asks,
'where's her poetry?'

I respond
‘it's between each line
that I write,’
as it's the confidence
she gives me
in every creative fire
I light

A specific work
couldn't cover
the feelings
for my love,
it wouldn't furnish
the page proper,
as simply words
aren't enough

What makes her believe
I can translate
passion through stanzas,
my admiration is stronger
than a charging army's

Verbose scrolls
full of drama
can't accomplish
what five words
can do,
when they’re stated
simply as
'my darling, I love you'







Though there is stress
where love should protect,
it doesn’t mean trouble,
just a brief disconnect

Life runs down lovers
as circles bend,
forgetting for a moment
what signals are sent

They may not have intent
or crooked meaning,
just sentiment overlapping
what a conscience
is conceiving

To heal wounds
for affinity again,
sincerity is crucial,
not just a means
to an end

Aim actions
toward humility
not fingers in blame,
until a solution
is present
and worries are tame

Without confronting
such issues
relations can sever,
leaving wounds
of remorse
that both feel forever






Gravel to Grain

Initial drops fall fast
from a coming rain,
a precursor from nature
that moistens
gravel to grain

Without cue,
showers arrive,
affecting everything
that lives
to be alive

During periods
of downpour
a natural symphony
as the wind
sets a tempo,
rhythmic beads
belt the blues

Such an onset
halts stillness
from pacing the night,
splashing subtle
and erratic,
until a new morning light






The Giving Sky
Across the world
a canvas displays
art without limits,
quieting anything
we could say

Generous is the sky
in brilliance,
with awe to embrace
it's beautiful resilience

As daybreak is painted
with palettes extreme,
mornings mesh seamless
into sunsets of dreams

Vibrant gradients
allure eyes
to it's splendor,
from a new year’s arrival
to the last dusk
in December

While borderless frames
promote murals
to believe,
this studio is ample
in speechless moments
it breeds






Morning Moon

It must have been
some kind of night-
as a morning moon
hangs around
to greet the daylight

Overstaying it’s shift
from sundown
to new dawn,
now puzzled
of the reason
that darkness is gone

Nightfall was a session
where stars
disclosed notions,
a lunar envy
of sun rays
that are selfless
in devotion

Soon it will fade
to return once again,
in the night,
and the solitude
a morning moon
can’t amend










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