miami beach sunrise

Houston Sky

The Plain

Feet that don't touch the ground

Image by ecstaticist via Flickr

Dangling above the bottomless precipice
Reactivated ignorance of youth
Peering into death

Sweat clears the path
For screams that never end
An imprisoned soul
Behind walls that stifle life

Stasis wins over change
Amidst the squeals of the cycle
What has passed does pass again
Despite optimistic altruism

Darkness erases a face
That's been alight forever
When the poles disconnect
And the time of light ends

A cloud family moves across the earth
Too quickly to engage in banter
Or to hitch a ride across the chasm
Other priorities in nature than mine

But their message is left just the same:
Dream of the shapes that you can be
Carry life great distances
Floods of emotion leave high-water marks

It's your choice to live
Above or below
The plain.

The Clouds' Fountains

Each day I see it from above.

Image via Wikipedia

A pattern so common it fits like a glove.
Travel away at night and toward in the morning.
"What is the strange pattern?!?" I shout, imploring.
These acts seem fraught with total frustration.
A script defining a bumper to bumper nation.
And then, on the weekends I always wonder,
What happened to the day's normal blunder?
"Oh well," I say, with a pet of the mountains.
Off to splash among the clouds' fountains.

seat w/ a view