seeing the out-set with a pocket full of sticks,
coming home to empty halls with dirty floors and plain white walls.
waiting on movement for more make believe.
make-shift collaboration readies us for relapse.
pumping yellow tinged liquid, motivating war
into a red metal box for green paper.
in for a few steps, then out for a few more to follow.
crimson cardboard cups crushed mid dim lit conversation.
all leaving questions behind with answers,
and simple thoughts set on my future.
our future.
silence the sound of lightning,
and it still looks beautiful.
then its over with a last look,
left with the hook still lodged in tongue and cheek.
radio waves save the day with perfect timing,
and unearthly chills.
hope for futures unseen and known by truth.
the stacks of ticket stubs beneath the open sign,
is there meaning of life beyond the booth.
tear drops stain the inside of my eyes,
and only forgotten food escapes.
open up earths clouds; its skies,
and turn these salted waters into shapes.
left not to look forward but to look back.
think life should be more,
it just can't be that.
more of the empty days fighting for thought through walls of brick.
fighting for love and truth, and creativity,
fighting through the fog of forms and functions,
all the strapped down formalities that fizzle freedom out of the fresh.
now riding the defiance of gravity to inland islands.
spiritual sanctuary is sought and bought.
but life's stories still remain untold and unloved.
there is so much more to chase and capture,
dream and create,
love and relate.
this day ends with legs fighting to stand,
to ring in another day with meaning standing up for you.
standing up for hope and hope for you.
whoever you are.
plastic glasses with peach bubbles and well wishes.
a reverberating house with dishes.
not escaping the notion that all of you are out there somewhere.
acoustic day dreams deaf to all reality,
love to give and a fist full of rainbows.
