I exchanged all the little things
for monstrosities.
Can you believe me when I say;
I traded in the hills for mountains,
carved my face,
and moved on with my life?
Yet I gave up the forest for the thickets
because they were familiar to me.
And in the thicket,
I found my crown
of esteem and dreams.
Queen Of The Cattails,
they say as I stand
proud in the swamp.
Where no one can see my face,
but the frogs who turn to Kings.
They believed in me.
I’m struggling to see
that the universe
is much bigger than me.
What puzzles me and I
-is myself.
Thoughts of the creator,
who was never created,
but rather existed existentially.
Beyond our beliefs,
lies a thing we could
never understand-
The reach of God’s hand,
could we all be here standing
below his fingertips?
Who knows?
My understanding is earthly,
humanitarian as I try to imagine
what that hand looks like.
Or is it a hand at all?
Is it just a wafting presence,
a glow around us?
God Created The Flies,
and the worm that ate
at Apathetic Happiness.
He was a second of shade,
which withered into Death Wishes.
So be still the anger
of misunderstandings,
and spare this great city
from spiritual darkness.
There is no Christmas in July
when it’s already August.
Rainy days surprise
-adds another wave
to an otherwise peaceful puddle.
It’s All Cuckoo Clocks
in Horror’s head.
Rainfall floods
the streets
with dread.
Fibs fill my head
as I unplug the drain,
I will not be washed
in the brain.
Now see, I know much better
than this rainy weather,
and unlike the unkind,
I can overcome
battles of the mind.