The insect that man is

With the height of hallowed autumn
The growing nakedness of trees
the sudden chill in the acres with a descending north breeze
Every insect from trunk grubs to the ones the size of fleas

Pale sky dims against the bark
of haunting tall poplars and squeezed between prickly evergreens
The shady yard and cabin within the treelines, windows humid longing for people
All of the residents were out with last days of sun, hunting insects on the run

Paths that seemed so random though followed each beetle exactly
Shiny wings and sudden scuttering their eyes were aglow with love
What brought them to love lively small creatures and so compelled?
It was their farewell to light and warmth as a nearing winter swelled

It was not the bug itself that drew sway
Nor for food or medicine did they become things of play
They were just small tokens of hope before frosts and blizzards grey
Before men wore their warm bungalows everyday
 that they'd soon thatch in such caprichous methodical ways

Collecting firewood not a twig left on the forest floor
For soon snow will have the land around the rich and all over the poor
The cold mouth of winter pulling legs off mammals in the freeze
Pushing the predictable human into his ground nest for relief

Each footstep made into late october would be the scrunch cackle
of an early hungry winter
One that demands more months, shamelessly harrasing the seasons
 one that boldly signed death warrants with the arctic mighty
One that would test the gums of the boreal forest, a hungry winter quite

So yes knowing this in their bones
the humble humans picked at insects
Before the little creatures went into their subterranean chrysalises
The predictable rituals that men so pride themselves on most
Obeying daylight like slaves yet finding the negligence to boast

The humble anthophila

I picked out some new flowers to avoid encouraging the bleakness
Ones that have their bloom on and might survive the week
As the older ones wilted and the household fell cold
I'll tell you these new ones are welcome by the green thumbs that sold them

I picked out the flowers as if I gave permission for joy to show itself
To color the dining table and be the colorful sprawl on any unwanted dim
I was that optimistic monday as if my emotions belonged to it exactly
But it's all a flimsy illusion each day you wake and you tunnel through

You perfume yourself and hold yourself together
You flourish as the hours click into days
And such a short time is a lifetime that I call it survival
day work taps me on the back harder than celebration

Millions lost in sedentary habits and medication
There lot so far from my comprehension
Society masters comparison
Yet lacks an accountable narrator

So I place flowers to remind me of transforming
beyond the bomb blast mess and bloated decayed buds of society
For the answer is peaceful and keen to meet us
And how very gunpowder anxious we are to hide from it

As petals fall and aphids drool on the castles of caterpillars
I find an inkling of peace in observing the feast dish of the anthophila
Partly their conquest as they gather pollen in their productivity
Maybe we'd know harmony if we were more like the bee

learning to love

learning to love
is taking off the armour
the armour that weighs us down gradually
that fills with pests and diseases

Learning to love
is taking off the helmet
The one that stops out rational mind
and keeps the violence going

It's no walk in the park
It's a war that never seems to end
That scars us and makes us casualties
For to love is to stride into enemies without protection

Addiction the playful boomerang

There are alot of wobbly addictions
Ones that will turn you blue and clumsy
That will swell your gob and numb you
Funny the addictions you pretend not to have

The bag of feelings you've packed away for the long term
That keep falling out of the cupboard each time you slip up
There are alot of sobby fictions that come out of a few sad facts
Not glancing at the bounty but analysing the lack

There's a family of drugs many pop smoke and inject
Then to rationalize we deny, regress, refuse then project
Until you are blue and clumsy in the mouth
Others remain unconvinced in accomodating your vices

There are a few addictions some of them with sharp edges and rusty buckets
To drain your patience and your compassion
While you stare into it's illusions satisfied by it's short abrasive effect
A thousand such vices wait to shorten your time on earth

Don't claim there was never any warning
You programed yourself to ignore it
procuring scapegoats and other drugs
like a gambler and his bad luck

David spoke silently

David's here for such a short visit
He looks across the table pefect grin
desert tan and clean advice
Nor do I dare say easier said than done

A thing that doesn't know doubt
and we question did it ever
like a hand on our shoulders and whisper in the ear
you are on your way

And perfection is not found in humans of this age I raise
And with his face, less words he implies a loud okay
Where in the desert did he learn such optimism
We sat over the table to talk not a word transpired

Almost laughing he said okay, without a sound
and how he comforted me I don't know
heavy heart and over reactive mind
Difficult to grow

My excuses made cracks in the brilliant table
The one that was made for elbows, bread and wine
David came to hint he'd help for a day
but then it was on me to march forward

For all limits

When I hear your voice in my head
I know there´s a way to separate
Way to know it´s all the conditioned fabric
The net the mind is ever caught in

Nose to smell the edge of the cliff
the assailants dagger
The smoke of the blaze
that encroaches on my place

The voice reminds me
These fires and blazes are supposed to heal me
Every thousand thought without logic
reality far from you and me
count your invisible blessings

For all limits would tip you
Like a holocaust corpse
onto the slide down to the trench pile
of the next generation´s compost

But I hear you from round here
Not too fond of my doubts
which like candles flicker
conspiring to make me sicker

Then you set me straight that all of these ill things
Are hidden erroneous beliefs that in strife´s symphony sing

Back into the image

The road and the river became one
Of all confusion your way is the biggest
The strangest and most fickle
And here you are colleagues and friends fill the room

You run out to see your wagon
It´s not the one you own
wonder where you lost that piece
That thing you could call yours

It´s gone it´s being chased
That thing you want the most
In life´s rash pulsing race
Where each event could crush
each stroke of the brush

Master piece of life
It´s been chased
like the rest of the treasure
Like the lust you have to be near her

There she runs in the sunshine behind a moving vehicle
Like a huntress, a heroine that stunned us all
her eternal motion
Kissed me well wished me
life right up in my face

The mago of both sides

He was up above them all
On the strangest farm
you could hear his joy filled call
echoing through the calm

He was about 2 kilometers above us all
His mouth was a millimeter from forming a smile
It wasn´t for the fact he was tall
His face was almost that of a stormy child

Up where the waterfalls and strange forests overhung
That is where he conducts his business
The clean air blesses his shiny lungs
His lips are always formed into a kiss

He is a Mago of kinds
A bringer of happiness and cheer
Every spell cast from his mind
With a hint of consideration and a curious glare

Last falsity

Show no feeling, lest they judge you
social statue carved out of whims of a few mouths
Be as good they form you
Truth is so valuable the old say in such a day and age

not a sip of sincerity from their anecdotes that replay
When that certain subject is touched
Realness is too much to risk
stubbornness or courage one folds into the other

Show no feeling though
stale interaction springs
suppression of real sentiment
what illness do you accumulate

Truth is bartered but can give no reprieve
contrarily as it is but a thief of certainty
No mercy when your heart is half eaten by grievous pretense
No quarter when the lie of etiquette has been played till it's last falsity

Somewhere useful

Generations swell
the right vibrations quickened
Shadows subsided
And glory reigned

Reigned like a light you've never known
one that could never be measured
But eventually each epoch fails
and pales toward a contra tide

One that sweeps away the progress for a time
that leads mild hearts and minds astray
one that dampens the flame and lowers the light
The wayward wanderers couldn't unite single file toward it

And the turnover provides a better sculpted replica of the last
until death robs the scene from our eyes
Is it the pining that swells as each new generation does
to give us the shape and the color of a soul

Pining to see over the horizon where a new generation brews
One with words more fermented and fragrant than my own
And with no less honesty
A tiny step toward the some place useful in the cosmos

The soul's one

Where the grass grows longer
That is where it waits, low to the ground
Nose to the wind eyes over the furry tops
Back leg' s feet replace the front leg's foot falls
As it gets closer and closer to the preys rustling and calls
Aroma and noise enticing it's senses

Sweeping the stems
the wind collaborates as if by will
Almost intoxicated by the certainty of the kill
stalking is the only act it's soul reveres
And landing on that prey claws beared

Swirling chaos and springing panic and fear
blunt concussion sharp deep contusions into organs and lungs
The sweet taste of blood dancing on each tastebud of the the tongue
the claws and teeth burst into a mad frenzy

The carcass still and empty like an overturned pew
a weak testament to the animal it once belonged to
The grass a crimson mess, all through
A satisfied grin, the soul's one true

His ambitions

On the empty salt lake eyes ready for tears to cry
Bellion stood contemplating the foundation of an empire
His ear caught the sinister screech of a distant Strak
In his heart there was fullness even in the empty lake of lack
The eastern expanses desolation consoled him

In the circle of blueness surrounded by cloud
He saw destiny and yonder greatness strong and round
His men's chins did lift and observe just so
And their spirit's were high despite the land so low

Bellion proclaimed himself over the southern abundance
Hungry for every battle ahead, each reptillian fiend, every chance
And his men did heed the necessity for a leader as this
That foes would be felled by blade and fist
And allies embraced in arms and kisses

He dreamed the great dream which was Tukron
Comprehending the thousands of years that his name would ring out
in the ears of his future descendants, to their hearts over their land
That Wagron's beginning would be moulded by his hand

Bellion looked further east The southern Strak somewhere lurking
The blade raised glinting in the sun, suddenly alive to have left the scabbard
Fear slowly left tiptoeing away from the Wagrons who had tamed a land
More terrifying than earth but a thousand times more blessed
Their laughing rose and possesed the sand as it flew with the wind through the emptiness

Bellion looked back west tying his shield to his horse and mounting
Trots turned to gallops and gallops to thunder and lightening
One thousand desires and dreams to achieve
From his ambitions there was no relief