Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Monday, February 1, 2010


i wonder, does it shine too loud?
Does one look?
Will they come?

How do you hide fire?

Feels good,
on my soul


them coyotes,
they have the scent.
stay still, you hunted.

will your racing heart
give you away? mine did.

no matter,
life and death
12 to 12

should've gathered more.
its cold up here, high
in the clouds
and wind

funny how the shadows creep the valley floor
searching out life
in collapsed exposure.

it the ray, i the prey in this empty sea of silent hunt.

if aliens landed,
would it be real? Would anyone believe my real?
Would i care?

I wonder why sparks fly up
what do they seek? A softer warmth?

do their asses burn as they fan tail up?
perhaps they so small just wish to be seen
seperate from the womb
baby fire learning legs
I'd pet them if I could
and tell them
it's OK

The fire grows quiet and low
played out, like my stare.

i wonder if fish know they're under water.
Am i under someone's water?
Do the moon and sun explore these depths i'm blind to?
Perhaps a great hand holds these lamps,
and chuckles to my ignorance.
a thousand years but a moment in thier reality.


the air turns cool at midnight
as if it knows.

I wonder,
if a dove set sail at midnight and learned the language, could it steal the sky?
Could it steal the thunder from god?
Or is being a dove ambition enough?
and God enough?

Here comes the rain to steal my wonders.