Becoming Friends

There is no color

only love

Since we are born colors

into love

Blue skies and grey skies

they are all the same

The only way to end hatred

is by love

We were born a nation

one of many

Free to choose

and be happy

Free not to choose

and be strong

One to protect

and be at peace

It starts with one

and walks alone

We are always talking

but always forget

From dust we rise

to dust we lay

With only patience

for an end’s delay.

Below Zero

Into a myriad pool

I dive without splashing

spreading arms and wings

into the striking gaps

of neon blue

eyes that capture

like a lens of camera

the lights of white streaks

under the depths of freedom

where water is air

and the moon hangs

like palm trees

in a black dessert

where the stillness

of the world

still exists

my heart is pounding

and the nerves

fully alive

I am not sad

but awake

I am not happy

but finally complete.

 

Dust

I am without shoes–

it is not what I wanted

but it happened anyway

a collection of things

to attain

rusted walls may scar

a copper of airy possibilities–

we all make sacrifices

in life,

some more than others–

I walk these hallways

and on shelves are books

they are staring at me

asking me if my name

will ever appear–

the fog thickens

and I can barely see

the stain glass windows,

and sometimes

I wonder the same.

Patio

In a box

a glass box

is an object

one that you see

flying above us all

and forever

it is free, and wild

with green and blue

passion

it never dies

but it wilts in time

and the sun scorches

hands, no, our eyes

from seeing it,

but it’s always there

whenever we need it

the most.

The Door, I Implore

This hollow door

one

that creaks

and tumbles into richness

of fermented air,

it is living–

The stairs leads me into

its other world

one I pick up and listen

but I am not there

I am somewhere else

looking inward–

The depths of this world knows

time

for all the mechanical foes

drop their jaws

at the sight of my existence–

Mobility, excellence and novelty,

“are they just words?”

we ask, walking

right back up the stairs

to find the old world

new

for it is without murk,

and now, knowledge chases

the refinery of wild

into a brilliant, one accord–

Our bellies are full

conversation now calm

and our minds speak without

fault

for in the trusted question

the gold key, hidden,

swirling

within the apple’s diamond

dancing

against our ceiling’s candle,

the only answer in time

has locked

stored away, behind

the oldest maker’s

vault.

 

 

 

 

The Darkest Ocean

I send my rod amidst the darkness

as the Heaven’s gate

opens up

and there upon the boulders

and rocks are more rocks

and clams sliding down my feet–

Bare to my heart and soul

I battle humanity

and the winds send a suffering

in the rarest of forms–

Cold and pouring with ice

soaking shorts and only a shirt

while tiny crabs

and seaweed

melt away–

My rod is steady and silver,

it is pierced into the night sky

and what awaits me

is gold

a glimmer of hope

shining in the brightest of forms–

I will never back down

even with the greatest wave

smashing my tears in the face–

No man or storm may stop me

not even my own thoughts

for as long as I wait

time is coming

the brightest gift

we could ever catch.

Taking Thunder

My mist, my mountain

one that calls me

to reach forth

and take this courage

into the depths of the sky

where the charcoal fist meets us

in the dust of the wind

and there, our minds

are born, again, under

time-lapsing stones

without shadows or sun

we fly into the air-like-seas

within darkness and light,

the unknown sunrise may come.

 

 

Waves

That blue pond

Really blue in its deepness

covered by a white sheet

and I am transparent above it

colliding the atmosphere

and spotting the grey lights

as they unravel confusion

in the black sky,

the gold sand crumbles

and falls by the hand

and by the time I am there

I never leave.

Toco the Toucan King

Never had my bird been so perfect

than upon the heights of mountains

it never completed them,

The iron cage in hearts grow tall

and still we are without fruit’s destiny

to climb it

and shout so proudly about who we are

or where we have been,

where we might be going–

I’ve seen many good and bad things in life

but never before

had I danced like this,

Only large leaves are suited for my crown

and I sang loud

on this side of the world

I can see all the people here now

and, I hope they start dancing too.

 

Somber Puddles

Force a word among yourselves

and the let the Forgivers’ lot pass

Stir for me an Intercession–

a world between Rock and Grass

only a dead influence hinders us

For Rock and Moss will grow–

Clouds will go deep, like Cellos

with everyone, an Instrument,

playing cords on the streets,

and from our Iron Towers

will pour, in time, like sorrow–

rain, rain into the silver grimes

of the earth, and let the heads

see gladness in their Pond,

new birth has never been wrong.