Untitled Document

CLEAR

Untitled Document

There You Stand

Garbs Of The Street

Waiting for happiness.

Remember Me Happy

Ode To You 'Above'

I Dream American, I Dream Big

Crack and Cycle Again

Ready For Attack

What Does Distortion Create

The Stump of a Young Tree

These Shutters Are Getting Old

The Halo and the Coconut

Opening the Lilies

Synopsis of Trees

High Up in the Mountain Tops

Fear The Jungle

Trouble With The Looking Glass

Trolling the Isle

Pompous Observations

Everything's Different

Dance With Me Celts

What I Have To Do

A Gentle Lapping

Bricks and Mortar

We The Living [Sacrificial Lambs]

Member or Guest

Grasps Of Bloodshed

Crap Shoot / Wall Climb

The Rise in Fall Woolly Bear Caterpillars

Stop! Spontaneous

The Final Whisper

There Was But One Monkey

Someday They Will Be Grown

Swat Team Manifesto

Amidst The Moon

Dont Touch Anything

Cut Throat Curiosity

Un-Suspecting Love

Short of Discovery

Anything's Better

Dungy Rooms and Dark Alleys

The Whole Goddamn Fort Went Down

A Form of Neurosis

Turning Nothing Into A Dream

Assumptions Closing In On Me

poem id SELECT * FROM poems WHERE poem_id = '33'

DATE		Display		Priority
Title
Body	I can see myself trolling the Isle on the cliffs edge with the water a mile down. Traveling across the hillside like the wind. Burning the grass as I stroll through the rolling farms. Pushing thoughts forward when I should be letting the next come to me. I, the wind, survey the land as if I were searching for my eminence. I heed warning from neither the men nor the objects that make-up the land-scape on the earths back but lightly pull them both. The men and objects resist their leader together they search. The earth is raw and ready. I am relentless. Some have given up and gone home, Others have given up but the feelings are denied. Some resist, for the pure pleasure and pain of it.
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