My thoughts have wings;

inquiring lyrical things

they flit with the butterfly

in flight

they tarry, delicate as a flute

in the tranquil twilight

Now beating strongly to the strange

song of my heart

catching the wind with curved

and tapered tips

like trim sails on swift ships

seeking the wonders of another's shore

soaring higher to explore

peaks that only the sun has known

and at last to drift alone

in this rare silent solace

A sojourner in capacious bliss

I pause to stare

through the crisp invigorating air

at the squinting crowds below

pointing fingers that poke and sting

pointing fingers

rather than taking wing

Am I the ladder that lifts

or the chain that drags?

Is love a gift

or a word that gags?

Does my light make warm

the heart and eyes

Am I a fool in the swarm

of beggars and flies?

Where is the vision

that bids me to leap?

Was it my decision

that others should sleep?

Is this my mountain?

Shall I pause at your fountain

and when do I begin to climb?

And who is the wiser

the thief or the miser

for both have been cheated

by time.

I say we are half and half

that our godliness leans on a

human staff

but men say we are all animal

because our appetites are never full

and at that I have to laugh

because I see a preformed trinity

one part god, the two parts whole

and both make three

somewhere between lies humanity

supported by men's fleshy cane

doomed to enjoy, yet trained to refrain

they weaken our holy spirit

which prophets idolize

while the people fear it

worshipping the cult of the

fatted calf

whose sole high priest was

that lucky giraffe

who chose to stand and see

that all is possible

humanly

The puzzle to be

isn't hard to see

but it's scrambled

up inside of me

People's past

and shadows cast

The problem is

to solve it fast

For now, I plod

at my own pace

hoping the pieces

will fit into place

So many facets

and mirrors of me

A brain in a body,

a mind in a man

I feel like a stew

in a cosmic can

I could go back to sleep

well fed, educated, content

ill wed, frustrated, money spent

But they're still perplexed

while too soon dying

So I prefer

to keep on trying

I gave my father

potency

and for a time

pride

and then responsibility,

patience, strength

and disillusionment.

I gave my mother

fertility and maternal tenderness

and protectiveness

I full filled her with milk

and the phantom of possession

and the intuition of emptiness

No doubt,

they held in common

for a time

the mingled joy of their respective virtues

joined sublime

in the spirit and flesh.

They spent their best years

on the misbegotten souvenirs

of a child birthed wide and fresh

No, I shall not soon forget,

amidst the sacrifices

we brought to each other

that they gave me freely

the priceless debt

of Life

Have you ever sat

with your whole head, spine and back

contoured flat

to the many faces

on a sheer wall of rock?

And then,

having shouldered it evenly

began steadily pushing

to see who can

"not move first?"

But, who knows with a little faith...?

Anyway, now

you're exerting

all your strength

and at length

you say

"There!

I've been staring

at this one spot

long enough

so that it's got

be hypnotized

by now"

so you stand

and sure enough

the whole bluff

of rock above

that you have been shoving

against has turned to stone

So, you laugh

and dust your

hands off

turning to go

knowing for certain

that it will be

still pushing

right where

you left off

Dr., I am mad

I have visions of stupidity

in the sea of ignorance

Dr., I am diseased

my mind sees light

but my heart beats black

God, are you there?

I breathe despair

and vomit cynicism

My brothers, do you care?

I see you wasting

with the disease of loneliness

My brothers love isn't permanent

it is the plastic excuse for

understanding

Dr., I am a fool

for I have apathy toward nothing

except fools

Dr., Can I be saved?

I am living on borrowed hope

and my own platitudes bore me

I am drowning in my own

rose scented sewage

cast adrift on an instant of genius

with a death grip on shit

floating on clouds of conceit

and all the while

approaching nothing

Today

I built a stairway

to follow the swallow and gull

away from the crying cryptic pull

of everyday grey earth sighs

I learned to discern

my own features

from those of my teachers

and I yearned to find

among the rows

of similar creatures

your own face

standing out of place

poised

to step on a high and winding stair

with eyes of water and sandy hair

I sought you there

in reverie

when wind and rain

reminded me

I had only ascended

half my stair...

Staring from the long abandoned

unicorn spiral flight

of the lighthouse stairwell,

at the processions of waves

preceded by their foam alone

Those fans of mermaid fancy

approaching to encroach

on the resilient meek beach

which they seek to reform

just in reach of

the brewing storm

The beacon beckons

intermittently, alternately

guiding and chiding

from across the dark sea

of my vanity

The heavy armor plates

of years

the rusting whitewashed fears

held firmly by anchored traits

wait, straining uneasy

assailed by the ripples

of small triumphs,

for the maiden voyage

too long delayed

I bellow mournfully

and plaintively for a hand

on the helm; to be obeyed

Scornful of those foolhardy

and free

overwhelmed by the ease of their courage

I wait in this harbor of futility

for my burial at sea

Serene sleep soothing

the terror of reality

replenishing from

the inky depths of self pity

the strength to live

tomorrow in the

bleakness of the city