fear roots
and
soul, and
you will perish under the weight
of
your
love.

love nothing,
and you
can
be.

love.


rise
up
stand
up
and feel
love.

freedom to
love does not make 
you
free, but be free
and you 
will know truth
and
love.

a smile
tugs at
her lip.

but inside
she rages.

words
will not contain
the fury of generations,
but
don’t underestimate
the power of
a foolish grin.

confidence, power, and grace
all
slip away,
and a young girl stands
alone,
fearful of
the strength within.

and a boy watches,
lost
and
confused,
vainly
seeking
her stolen wisdom.

eye
scent
reminisces
of a kiss
lost in
memory,
and firm resolve
dissolves into glee.

is this
what
it is to be free?

brittle chains
of lust will snap,
under strained
loves lost.

round
back to
rooted cause.

I
feel
connected.

power
to create
&
love.

magical
fantastical
razzmatazz

but
my fingers long
for the broomstick….

ashes remain

and I am
always
sweeping.

trudge.

nose to dirt for pittance;
pitiful,
pathetic, and
passion-
less.
this is the new success story.
devoid of soul
and worth.
work defines
for no reward-
but more work.


Insane?
Crazy?
Crazy and Insane?
or just a generation swimming in the amniotic fluid
of their father’s fears?

nothing
but castles
in
the sky,
laid on the secure foundation of
stability
and prestige,
and benefits.

Naw Man,
Fuck That.

peace,
I’m out.

down by the river
where nobody goes
there sits
a man and his pup.

steel and lights hurtle not
too distant;
the heeeyaw of
the city pierces,

but a man
and
his pup
sit upon a moon glistened
muddy shore,
communing with herons,
and with frogs.

time
flies away
from those
who squander love
for peace.

turd bucket candies
produce
fantastic tales of woe.
but,

where will you go?
and,
who do
you know

that will
see

you?