Archive for January, 2016

My Sorrow, My Sparrow

It makes perch upon my shoulder and digs its needles through my skin.

Sinks beneath my being silently to let it in.

Beacons to the shadows growing strong with dim light.

Scarcity of nutrient, cloaking darkness over sight.

Its gaze can see in front of me, its eyes aside my own.

It knows the past behind us. Hollow as its bones.

It walks along my stanzas unknown to ever rest.

It plays me like an instrument with reeds that know me best.

It’s silent on my arm except when pecking at my soul.

Its claws are born to ridicule and turn a body cold.

My sparrow soars through wind and flesh and digs between the seems.

It lays its eggs at night to haunt tomorrow from my dreams.

It’s light as half a drop of rain but perches like a rock.

Its pupils soak in glory stole from time, it bleeds my clock.

It holds the present captive weighed in stone and built from ice

And stands upon my body never interested in flight.

My sparrow’s healthy as a sunrise with its warmth to glow and spread

But it’s dark as night in color wound eternal is its thread.

It feeds and breathes and grows its grip and sinks its toes persistent

It leads from its tumultuous heart unknown to be repentant.

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My True Joy, My Blue Jay

It rests upon my shoulder and holds tightly to my skin. 

Sets deep into my being quietly to let it in. 

It casts away the shadows growing stronger from the light. 

Abundance of enjoyment, taking darkness from my sight. 

It flies through sun and glory and offers it to be my own. 

It’s weight beyond existence light as feathers to the bone. 

It sings along to stanzas unknown to take a breath. 

It plays me like an instrument with reeds that know me best. 

It’s welcome on my arm with songs that illuminate my soul. 

Its feet are warm and radiant that turn me from the cold. 

My blue jay soars through summer breeze and nests along the stream. 

Its eggs in morning slumber rest at night to feed my dreams. 

It’s light as half a drop of rain with veins as strong as rock. 

Its pupils show me past events hung sweetly on the clock. 

Its back as soft as cotton holding colors blue as ice

and stands upon my body while it’s resting from its flight. 

My blue jay holds a miracle that’s bound to glow and spread

with loving mercy drenched in color strung across our thread. 

It feeds and breathes and grows its grip and sinks its kiss persistent.

It leads from its abundant heart displaying life’s incentive.


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I got 10 digits twisted around the sum of my accomplishments

I’ve counted every mountain where the summit shows my signature

Higher than the clouds without assistance of intoxicants

I’ve mounted every doubtful outcome shown throughout the literature

I’ll never reach the peaks beyond my natural capacity

cause actually I’m boundless in my reach to grasp heights

My effort’s never bested by an ailment or a malady

higher than the ceiling feet are standing on stalactites

I’ll examine any planning in the conquest for ascension

I’ll build my own equipment if the tools are not invented

I’ll elevate the pro’se and con’text with better diction

My targets more like comets than a star in your dimension

I carry medals from lesser battles strapped in leather sacks

and add them to the weight I’m proud of having press upon my back

I shift from precipice to precipice and never rest or finish

cause what’s a precedent that doesn’t press the others to the limit

I’m an ardent rider hard survivor climbing for the atmosphere

to rest my brain amidst the rain when there aren’t any cabins here

My footsteps more like meteors that pound a crater beautifully

I question answers to the test and sentence thoughts to greater scrutiny

I warm my feet by embers from the king of the hill contenders

and all the second place performances that nobody remembers

I’ve realigned tides to rise in sequence to the weekends – see

the swells collide in time & readjust the season’s frequency

The hill’s alive from where I stand with music as my favorite thing

the bells beyond the heavens shower blessings when I make them ring

I’ll serenade the spring until I fall on summer’s innocence

and carry blossoms to the mountain in the winter of my discontent

Stand on tops so high my knees are sunken into freezing snow

above the island seas I watch the tropics in the breeze below

My looking glass is focused on the farthest planet’s coordinates

I hope its huge with mountains grown abundantly proportionate

I’m running out of anything to challenge destined escalation

It tests my patience waiting to advance the final destination



I’m running out of virtue, my patience is getting thin

and from these pages, if the word’s true – these stages is giving in

letting anyone in the ranges come to grace it’s planked construction

I’m pro-human life involvement and blind from blank consumption

Keep your water buckets handy this disease needs curing

ensuring wording going deeper and darker than your Keurig

I spit the spark that split the crystal brought the Mystics out to venture, shift

the dark and shared a light they’ve never seen because of censorship

I’m the best to press the pen against this world of cells and chemicals

and conjure up a spell creating life between the syllables

Ya wanna bet on innovation not accept the simulation

my success is not a threat it’s a pending situation

Put words into the canon like a puddle on the tide

cover carousels with clover wish you luck along the ride

I’m a house divided from the attic with academic papers

and the basement where the bass is sent through psychedelic vapors

I’m tasteless in pursuit of who’s the freshest on the avenue

cause flavor’s just a part of what I’m bringing better after you

Any star can shoot the moon and get a minute of attention

but few can steady carve a path committed to ascension

I’m a 49’er rhymer dropping nuggets out my pockets

my budget’s like the cockpit, don’t ever try and top it

I’m digging gems and dropping wisdom from my golden ground deposits

my shine’s applied to true letters while their hands are glued to goose feathers

I’ll battle the Bell Witch without the bayonets and helmets

my saber rests embellished in the blood of those who fell quick

And life won’t say I’m sorry for the hardships you’ve uncovered

that’s why your heat continues even once your fire’s smothered

So I leave ’em looking clueless standing lone and holding papers

and there’s nothing else in evidence than holes and smoking craters

My speeches show the weaknesses that makes your columns crumble

with the knowledge of the greatest minds that keep your college humble

I’m the first to burst your bubble and walk away with goals accomplished

while you’re waiting for your turn to bat I’m on another conquest


I chased truth down a rabbit hole and stole a pelt for honesty

my Wonderland beneath assumptions functions from the oddity

I thought that if I kept it there’ll be hell to pay eventually

but knew the path to happiness is built upon simplicity

I’ve never bested challengers with fire from my verbiage

but I’ve shrunken mighty fighters with some words of chosen purpose

Some think your violent furnace is accepted with a warning

turning wedding cake relations to a case of global warming

So I never break the paper wrapping presents for the morning

til the pressure’s off the rapier that the fire poker’s forming

How’s a crucifix addiction measure up to common wisdom

if mother nature naturally would go against convention

Is there life beyond existence when the seconds get to millions

is there hope for any future if you’ve second-guessed the children

There’s opinions when I think and breathe and anything my tongue hits

I’m biased when I’m done with judging other people’s judgements

The same song repeats and turns in circles as it plays on

if words are worthless than I’m giving yall the finger all the day long

And if that’s the case no feelings were ever hurt in my performance

cause my rabbit cut the chorus growing rapidly abhorrent

I’m the spokesman of my company for the times that we’re enjoying

reinvesting every earning taking care of my employee

I’m sweating from the mission, bleeding love and dripping intimacy

or is it vision vividly perceiving wicked wizardry

eclipsed with bickering literacy

and masked in sibling idiocy

No man can be an island but from the end of the peninsula, you wouldn’t know the difference

-so I know your mental image

and if it’s isolation any islander desires

don’t blame your fellow countrymen you’ve sunken through the mires

Better beg for silent mercy, bend your knees and what have you

but only once you’ve found the truth can life be truly valued


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