A night of warmth, the day is here,
my beans now grow a race is clear
the soil erupts to let them through
a sea of green to feed us seen.

The nighttime heat, summer is here,
it is so hot I can't see clear,
my face the sweat do sting my eyes,
I cry dear sir please fix the air

A city awakens brushing
suicides and junkies flushing
with her human bone comb snagging
drones watch football huffing, bragging

Life never seems simple
Every day I fake dimples
To bury a secret
So no one can read it
If I could
You know I would
I am about to break
And you just take and take
I don't need peace
When you take pieces
Of me
Please don't turn out the light
Everything is not... alright
Life is a race
I cannot keep the pace
People ask what I am doing
But I am not sure where I am going
People think I am flying
On the inside I am dying
This is my knife
Deep into my life

This.
And that you love me.
Even just that you are.

That you see softness and then it is.
That you lay down and I sleep.
That you are happy and so, I am.

You are.
And that you love me.
Like this.

Your voice calls from the Dark

Whispers that haunt

                each flake of Snow

The wet kiss of the ice trails my cheek

The only truth,

                the ground with each step.

Your tongue darts the mind

Thoughts tortured

                with each stab of the Arctic wind

The warmth of my palms partially melts the ice

The true rest,

                The completeness of the Dark.

The wind marries the Dark

A silent Blizzard

I am nowhere and everywhere

All that wishing,
Never doing.

All that frustration,
Keeps on brewing.

And the tea of laziness
Is never sipped.

~Is Inaction Too An Action?~

I surrender my Faith to your protection...

Your Faith is as an honored guest in my home...

No matter the vibrant or rain soaked things
happening outside my window
or between the space
where floor
doesn't quite
meet door,
I linger in my own soft breeze.

As I be breezing,
I be fluttering.
My lips be muttering.
My poetry stuttering
desires I keep
just for you

Neopoet Renga 5

Ethnics soon sunder
our forefathers origin
tumult from terra

Gods fight for control north, south
new race emerge to power

Two sovereign one God
appear from the aftermath
the red white and blue

Blood stained forever now
but new ideals bring change

Irishman no stress
it's always dry in the pub
amused by panic

Guinness slow to settle down
Waits to quell the thirst of man

That all nations die
Not knowing our present
Stops all the worry

I think of women,
Ancestors of my sisterhood,
Centuries before my birth,
How they were oppressed and suppressed,
For their sex, race or ideals,

I think of women,
Who struggled with infirmities,
Who were called crazy,
Branded witches or harlots,
For their desire to be independent,

How would I have fared in their eras?

Those stifled out by society,
Those hushed by authority,
Artists and dreamers alike,
Punished for their fight,
Shunned for their light,

I greet her. She nods, Slowly, Imperiously.
Familiar, yet restrained.
I know her moods as she does mine.
She inclines to my touch.. softly...
We sense the change that is each other.
She is constant, always welcoming,
But with a newness, a freshness, that makes me smile.