I
My blood houses the melody,
My skin the harmony,
My being the complete symphony
I am the creator and the created,
The art and the artist

Sounds creating a vast canvas in my mind
It’s painterly waves submit imprints
Increasing tenfold in sharp echoes
While floating and drifting through tandem thoughts
Stringed voices dance through my striatum
Overwhelming and audible, all I can do is
Keep breathing
Entropy decreasing,

Paragon expections
Lay heavily
Gasps form

Sweet summer breeze
Caress the madness
White sheers flutter
A cradled paradise
Unperceivable

Legions history
Form the view

Scents grasped
To swallow the fever
Paradigm inhales each thought

Tangled reflections
Seep
Unbidden

Kiss of history
Smears reason
Laying unbendable

Soft greens unseen
Sounds mystery unheard
Life unbearable

Swimming toward the other side

Thoughts of An Intelligent Animal,
(Naked Emotion Workshop)

What kind of animal have we become,
with our uncaring ways and hurtful and
so very harmful intelligence.
We like to call ourselves human, giving
the name to acts of what we call kindness
that I call common sense.

Outside I hear the world evolving, but
are we ever given time to think why or
where too.
They keep us far to busy to stop and ask,
it’s more important to be thinking, I’m
loosing my hair, what colour are you?

It has been more than just a while
since last a sonnet left my pen
and though to me they are a trial
I'll grit my teeth and try again

Eight syllables in every line
makes for bit stilted poem----
Dang! That is seven, it's not eight
can make for a bit stilted poem

I meant to make this about love
how it can bloom in any heart
a true gift sent from heaven above
wait.... but that's nine syllables