Transcendence.

You and I, we will live.
When passions be at wane,
We will live on words.
When eyesight be at wane,
We will live on words.
As deafness arrives, and mind takes a stroll,
In each other’s warmth and company, we will live.
As our bodies break and perish, till matters none,
In silence we will live.

You and I, we will live.

Beautiful Superficial.


Fret not for there is nothing more than your beauty,
Care not for there is nothing less than your mind.
Oh your heart, your heart; how much it feels and how much it yearns,
to be seen and be seen.
Cold; warm,
Shearing pangs and aches for that cannot be.
You shine and universe is sold.
Push; pull,
Dark black lines beckoning to take it.
Red’s do not part and universe is hush.
Depth and shallow; off and on.
One of another, another of one.
Care not, fret not.

Broccoli Sprouts.

Awww…you little life!
Priming yourself for the stage.
No retakes or prompts;
Scenes, a kaleidoscope of the comic and the tragic.
Movement it is and only movement there is.
From nought to nay, and nay to nought,
Entrance to exit, end to exordium.
Somewhere an obscure tune, noise all there is.
Awww…you little life, when will you turn green?

Perspective.

The closeness, one loses sight.
The theater becomes personal. Emotions high, reason nigh,
Forgetting to remember the remembrance forgotten.
The head the heart, the heart the head, the heart the head, the head the heart.

What is what, what is not. What is not, what is…
The wheels turn on and on and on; points infinite,
each not the same, but the repetition.
The head the heart, the heart the head, the heart the head, the head the heart or nothing.