Fingernails & thumbs.

Being a human is a beautiful thing.

Being able to feel for others makes my heart sing.

Like a man with a horse, the fire here just started.

The way the water changes colors in the sunlight,

And with the breeze comes the beautiful bird’s

Melodies. November is a time to find yourself.

Bring inner peace. Bring love to the table and

Ask for nothing more.

two.

Spilling my soul out, for you it cries.

The many times, it has seen light.

Today it may be dark, like the Harvest Moon.

Remember the time we danced in the rain?

The first time, we kissed?

The rain brings a sense of peace.

The rain brings the mountains closer.

Having a passion for someone else, can be

Kind of hard. Watching the way your tongue

Rolls when you speak your mind.

The way your green eyes wander.

Remember the other night when I let you

Borrow my lighter?

Well where did it go?

i try, but i can't fix everything 

i keep having to remind myself i am not the mother.
the baby chickens decide to run away from home
and one ends up getting hit, well i can't do much,
i am not his mother. i can go home and cry while
i perform a burial ritual, but i am not the mother.
i didn't let this happen. the trees that surround me,
they grow ill. the leaves don't ever grow, the
branches seem weak, they break with the smallest
amount of movement. i can get sad at this sight
but i need to remember i am not that tree's mother.
i can't help it from dying or becoming more sick.
i just go home and do a tree dance, hoping the
sickness away. i see dried up rivers in the woods,
but again i am not their mother. i didn't tell them
to stop drinking the water from mother earth. i
didn't make them stop. they stopped themselves
the rivers weren't thirsty anymore for that rain.
i just walk home thinking, i am not the river's
mother, i can't make the river drink the rain
water if it does not want to. i just sit still as a
bee on a sunny dawn morning and blink.
i can't help, i am not the mother of these
broken souls, whom decide to starve.

we can meet where the green grass grows.

the evening air, is so crisp and so delicate.

we can meet under the old pear tree.

where we can dance and sing together.

we can hold hands like the night will

never end. your hands, smooth like

silk, your hands tell me you've been

here long. the evening with slowly

turn a shade darker than Jupiter and

our wine glasses will be full. we 

can pick the flowers together, run 

in our bare feet. we are the only 

two who exist. we can swim in the

river, no clothes, just you and i. 

together our feet touch the bottom

while our legs intertwine, like roots

and like vines. our heads bob above 

the glass like river. the pink moon 

shines just enough to be able to see 

your green eyes. baby lightening 

bugs gather round, just to see us

humans kiss in the pink moon 

river. 

i need a dream journal

i keep having the weirdest dreams.
i had a dream, where the sky was black
and nothing made sense. everyone was sad.
my sister got married and had a kid, that's
what a fairy told me in last night's dream.
i had a dream where my tooth fell out.
not eating almonds or an apple, my tooth
just fell out. i keep having these dreams
where i can't breathe until i wake up.
sometimes i can't explain what i see.
i keep having the strangest dreams.

dark, like the night.

Rosary Beads hover above my bed one morning.

I can see the sun, the golden peach, almost half

Way over the hill, far, far away. The rolling hills

Hug the sun, it takes only minutes to appear.

Outside, the sidewalk screams. The black crow

Follows the midnight moon. Only for one very

Little moment, does this feel right. I sit and pray

Asking for these beads to save me before sunrise.

The White Blinds.

To you, life is but a joke. To me, life is but a dream.

Try to succeed, make your mother happy.

Don’t be a lump, shut up and grab a Q-tip.

Bring all the animal bones from your backyard.

I know you collect them, you wear the bear’s teeth,

Around your neck, on a rope. Coffee brings

Memories of my Papa and front porch swings.

The smell of cigarettes and hummingbirds.

Tomorrow seems so far away, but don’t wish

Your days away. Before you know it,

You’ll be dead, and earthworms will crawl

Through your skull.