For beauty had a possibility

Was it her fault or what

The lame finger is fresh

The sound is a loneliness

A faight like death

We are the flowers of enchantment

On the street of fairness

Time for forgetting

And deep forgetfulness

Your wishes of the sacred

Hold my hand now.

It was the life they knew

As if time has falcon wings

Your eye sharp as needles

Aiming at targets

You shoot out your missiles

I sense your tendencies

It eats the tail

Finally it is an abstraction

Too much paint

Not enough action

So I do something

Very strange and obvious

It is delicious.

My form of poetry has this

At least nine lines

And less then nineteen lines

Line length can vary but,

Structure is as important as content

The more structure the better

Over the hundreds of poems

When structure is instinctive a bit

So if you are a writer

Remember structure

Freedom is a trap.

Here we dream

Things fall from the sky

Like ice cream cones

The people fret instead

Only their eyes can see

Not into the landscape

But sizing the size of things

Your eyes melt

I can see what is true

To kiss into you

It feels like a disappearance

Then more to the skin

As if it lights up the horizon

Like a red sea

Hold me in your dreams.

OMG

Someone actually found my site by typing the word

Thoughts

Into one of the search engines

I've gone big time!

Down town

There are clowns, frowns, creeps yes INDEED

But it is also the land is of the FREE

FREEDOM.

Fear not.

I can't find the castle in the sky

But my feet are walking

As the city sleeps

As it moves

As it creeps.


You glance into my window

I am naked and half asleep

As we make love

I count sheep

As the giants wake up


There is a war

For all mankind

As the memories of life

Based on victories

Perhaps lies


The truth was in the wine

The ice cream satisfied.

Decades ago a wealthy influncial man convinced.

Or should I say brain washed the public into the idea that love is sentimental and that for that reason was a cause of "Inferior creative work" Take that!

File Apart.

I raised my hand again

Though windy it made wine

Our pain transformed

Intelligence in acrobatic form

Holds the secrets

The false alarms

Where animal friends come

I don't speak squiril

Free the humans now.

Tonight I put out a prayer to the God.

I need this one badly.

I still think blood issues within the body are a symptom of winter problems with health.