There is no place
Like a smiling face
It sets the pace
It makes the case
For a happy heart
It’s a cinnamon tart
All spicy and smart
No frowns allowed
Said the sign on the door
Tis not a place for disgruntled souls
All we sell is happy inside
There is nothing to hide
Your face much prettier
When graced with a smile
Your life more buoyant
Times more enjoyed
Yours to unstitch
Come comrades, come
Lift up those jowls
With a mighty howl
Let the world delight
In the jewels on your face
For this is the place
To enjoy the art
And relish the poetry
Of those smiling faces
Standing in front of you
Wait beyond the earth is doomed.
Sun grew hungry, thus consumed.
Further wait until time tires.
Watch as all motion expires.
Unstitch all that has been sewn.
Witness that which can't be known.
Mould a shape that's yet unseen.
Remake all that has not been.
My suit of self-loathing no longer fits
The mirror of compassion tells me so
Years of bad-intentions held back growth
After a time, the length of my sleeves bind
I didn’t realize I’ve become over-sized
These angry pants are fit for a small child
How silly I look with cuffs choking wrists
How I’ve loved my painfully straight jacket
Like it or not, the right suit still waits
No one other than I can disrobe loathing
The best cloak is the one from the womb
It takes skill to unstitch a childish blazer
It takes care to unhem pants outgrown
It takes love to go out in my birthday suit
Let tatters of anxiety fall down the chute
Self-loathing keeps me from disrobing
But, I’m not ready to shed my suit yet
The manly scissors that cuts are too heavy
After self-loathing is bare understanding
Forgive the man unstitching childishness
Let go of short-comings without clinging
Take the macho suit off the rack with care
Try on that fitted suit made for just me
Wear it till love fills the over-sized space
Take it all off till nakedness feels nice
Matthew 24:18
"Whoever is in the field must not turn back to get his cloak."
We've got a short time to make it to the top.
To climb the neck bones of our elusive God.
A short time to scribe, knead, travel, paint.
Crash land into a true soul mate.
Elevate to the next consciousness.
Build your own rose petal nest.
Life is a fiery sprint,
a taste of earth, a splash of mint.
Where's the synergy of heart + soul?
The silver sheen of youthful shoals.
The antidote for hopelessness
The patch over the sinkhole of the mind.
The neck bone staircase has vanished into the clouds.
We've a short time to unstitch the light from the shroud.
To leave something profound, everlasting, behind.
Something more than selfies and a jar of forgotten ashes.
Such a short time to escape from the stall
The dream is swifter than the dreamer after all.
She was his muse
so beautiful, a true
angel on earth
'til she revealed
to him her many scars
Disquiet at first filled
with concern
then slowly proceeded
to unstitch every one
of her wounds
as if they were buttons
of an old blouse...
I sit in this dark room and empty the soul I call mine
Into the void we call time
The void slowly sips it down, burning like hard liquor
Then hammers it down quicker and quicker
The cursed soul begins to burn and time now seems sicker
Until bursting into flames like a fine whicker
Burning bright through the black of night
His feelings lie, except in his weary eyes
Where no one looks, no one pries
Simply by disguising cries with laughs, by hiding behind broken smiles
If he wishes tomorrow won’t come, it always does fast
And when he wants tomorrow to last it will pass
Reminded of yesterday by the pain lingering today
Diminished to ashes and flashes of pictures burnt in
Seeing doesn’t mean your not blind
Because we all search for the thing we can’t find
So bind my hands, unstitch my lips
Take the last sips of curses
Because I’m done with these dark verses
Ash to ash, Dust to dust blown away in the silent hush
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