Desert

The hourglass of the sun beckons
It's angry wrath upon the stone children below.
Drying rivers and lakes leaving
Sifting sands that forgot their heritage.
We string together in one line as a
Sandstorm brews a wicked wind to
Blind the unfaithful, and unprepared
Sons and Daughters of the two feet.
We creatures of the sand brand our
Mark of adaptations such as the
Scorpions' spearing tail
Snakes' assassin fangs
Crocodiles' bone-crushing bite
Enough to crush the water caravans
Built entirely of wood and cloth, prepared
By the Sweat of the forgotten religion.
We head into the city of tiers whereas
Gods wore faces of animals but contained
Human willpower as we are led
Into the Grand Bazaar to unload
Our own stocks upon our backs.
This is the place where we find new
Friends onwards to the next city full
of different wares in the
Unforgivable dunes.

How We Write

Write what you know
Or write how you feel
Like a river burst to overflow
In the words you shall seal.

Words like driftwood logs down the rushing stream
Marking the way to the mouth of the bay.
Interlocked into a little team
Molded like a pot of clay.

Sentences in the loom we thread
Linking each word in its respectable knot.
Fraught with dangers ahead
As punctuation needs to be caught.

Paragraphs split machinery in a car.
Engines revving for the reader's eye.
Lined with expectations high bar.
Only in style can we try.

Stories colored into a piece of art\
Every little detail made into an author's masterpiece.
Colors splashed together, tasty as a Poptart.
Without heart, an author's life shall cease.

Messy Room

A room, considered mess
Trash sprawled all over the floor
My fault I confess
Duty make trash no more.

First by scrubbing the sink
And Ajax in the tub
Smooth as an ice rink
Only a generous rub.

Onward to make my bed
And vacuum the floor
Remembering what my mother said
Polishing the door.

For the goodness of the house
That I have to clean
But as quiet as a mouse
So this mess isn't seen

No one knows that it was I
As I crawled back into my sheet
Because I am a nice guy
Whose guests see as neat.

Dream Home

A little cottage by the everblue sea
A marvelous hue
Of color to compliment
On the backside of my humble home

A meadow full of buzzling bees
A place to walk, a place to talk
Of eye-catching fantasies
By that little cottage by the sea

Where my children can play
Within the sunshine's rays
Oblivious of any sorrow
Another day, another tomorrow

In the shallows I would be
Those shallows of the sea
Catching fish for my family
Living by without any money

A home to come to
Stories of  the day I would tell
We lucky few
A life no man wants to sell.

Why the Bird Rises and Falls

From morning light, the crimson bird
Rises on the horizon sprouted
With fluffy feathers that soothes
The living souls under the gaze
Guided by the trees that line
The blank path, each step
Moving Forward on a journey
Full of unique embellishments
And sights to behold.

The rise has finally lit up the sky
Giving new light to the
Staunchy elms, whistling warblers, wrecking
Woodpeckers, and hungry hawks
Keen for the next meal that will show
In the opening above the stagnant
Pond that sports poisonous copper triangles
And outrageous otters whose swim
Matches the backstroke's masterpiece

It was six miles they said
But I saw something more
I saw steps until the
Bird returns to the nest
And the world falls asleep.

Off To College

Classes start today
As a new Florida shimmering ray
Dances upon the dull concrete
Vibrating to the students' feet

I was mesmerized by the sight
Of a new day and night life
Another day saying I was free
To whoever I wanted to be

During the day teachers give us homework
During the night I learn to cook pork
It was different living alone
Like an instrument with it's new beat
A soothing but somber tone.

Who was I?
When did I last cry?
Family was important to me
They were my belaying stone

But now like a little bird
It was my time to fly
Away from my native nest
I promise I'll do my best.

Spirits (Poem)

Lain upon the floor
With Spirits in hand
Joy on the faces who drink
The magical Elixir
That loosens locked tongues
Releasing our hidden emotions.
As a witness of such events
Man and Woman alike are bound
By the bottle and cup.
Tongues flared to new tastes
Hands danced upon games.
But like a flip of a coin
Hearts can break
Terror of future lingers
Upon the recovering body
Wistful flowers slump and cry
Wailful songs as they
Are consumed by the Night lit sky
Starting their day anew
For the next ticket
Back to the joyful ride
That lifts the soul
Into brain oblivion.