You’ve yet to meet a decent poet

Good poetry is not breathy

But like breath it breathes

And speaks new life into the world

In both a manner and way

Which could never be displeasing

For when a person is on

Such good terms with words

You should let them share

And speak their love affair

Most freely

Trust me

most beneficial it will be

(to see)

A Dark Winter'sTanka

Slowly approaching

Is both the winter and you

My bright springtime love

And I wait like the nighttime

For this dark hour to be through

Responsibility

I no longer know

What a youthful wish is

For I am trapped between

All ages and scenes

And have only the imagination to dream

In this one most particular way

For I am neither the sight nor the seen

And want more than anything now

This responsibility of you

To which I am most happily new

I want

Flight

A caged bird

Knows not the height of the sky

But dreams of flight

Be it only in the room beside

Some wings just weren't meant

To be truly free

Some birds are never given the chance

To imagine what could be

Morning love

Soak through the ground

Like the dirt you know where my heart is found

Beneath sky, and storm, and morning dew

Around is where such begins anew

My love for you

Your hatred is your worldly weakness

Love concurs

And fells walls

And builds families

Up and up

But as for the down

The lost and crooked limbs

Which also grow

Both round and round

Don't hate the twisted arms of fate

But know and never

Underestimate the hateful heart of man

Which falls and falls

Only God provides the suitable

Downstream

The measure of a man

Is not what he does or fails to do

But who he is

And the greater of these will always be

Like frozen snow on the mountain peaks

The prior, and never what we merely see

Downstream

Broken brush

It's like I'm a painter

Who can no longer hold the brush

Is no longer fluent with the colorant stain

And through certainly there are other forms

Of acrylic and enamel and oil

All of which are not and the same

It hurts the soul most deeply today

And with great force I am hit

By the understanding that I can no longer paint

The young man in me remembers still

But I am not the same

Never the same

Embodied Dream

When you meet your dream

Embodied and full standing there before you suddenly

You need to be reminded

That it’s not

That she is something else entirely

Saria

The wind and weeds

Goosegrass grows

In the wind which knows

How its own voice would be silent

Without such promiscuous weed

Such a relationship is ironic

No?

Haiku of stone

For this I am not

A man of brick and mortal

But of words instead

A sound to soak in

I await the day

When your harp voice calls

And aloud

Sings our newly sprouted flowers

(A song)

As all voices do

But especially yours

Will be a wonderful sound

Which I will soak in most long

And until then longingly

Saria

Saria

Horizons, a tanka

I no longer wish

To see the other side of

These hills of my own

Instead now I rest in this

The valley which calls me home

SPF

Sunshine

Is something

Most wonderfully free

And full

And warm

And soothing

And powerful

To a kid

This heat

Is nothing more than to see

And yet to we the adults

How we hide

How we SPF and forget

Just how soothing this sunshine

Can inevitably be

Stuck in a meeting

I may volunteer my body

And my presence

My time

And though you will it

Or know it

Or command it by grace

There is one thing unstill, always

Which will remain, this, for

You'll never control my mind

Just try

Builders

Everyone respects

Both the builder

And the architect

Not for their personal life

For their drinking habits

For any number of ordinary

Or unordinary things alike

No

Everyone respects

For the tall towers of humanity

Which they aspire to and directly direct

And erect

To the skies

It is

Its hard sometimes

To remeber who

And who is who

And the you which is you

Standalone and tall

And to nothing else hold

For you are more than any world

Than any song or word

You are more than that is

You are are not what you do

Though it's tempting for sure

It is

Of smiles

That moment when

You realize this

You smile alone

And know

This is special

Because it is

Heart for hearts

Your heart
Is not required to
But really ought to have
Its own heart for the broken
For those lost and unknown
For they are yours
And in your company
Just as much as you are your own
And someday, perhaps
You will be there also
Be it old, or hurt, or forgotten, or alone

Do not think you are immune to such things
Do not worship that which you currently own

Because nothing lasts be it good or bad

Thoughts, unending waves

Even the ocean waves

Though precarious in nature

Take their breaks from breaking

Reserve some time for unwaking

And sleep in a subtle

Surface tension leaden peace

Which can only be described

As unbroken

And so also my own mind ought to be