Children of water

 In sacred pools children played.
Deciphering what freedom says.
The way water hindered gravity.
How it amplified their activity.

Parents learned to follow their offsprings notions,
rediscovering those lost childhood emotions.
It was not simply a celebration away from home.
They were attempting to create a special moment.

One they hoped to extend much past twenty four hours.
Whose events would inspire glee that never soured.
That part of who they were together would fuse or align.
Making the return to daily life smoother and refined.

Sometimes the world gets cultivated like a flower.
So that pure joy may manifest even if for a few hours.

In the blessed pools children sprang like seedlings.
They were deciphering sensation freedom.
The way the water softened gravity,
How it enhanced their festivity.

Parents suddenly learned to be children again,
Rediscovering feelings they could not explain.
It was not merely games of pretend,
But an attempt to make time extend.

A moment they longed to continue all day,
Whose experience would keep memory from decay.
That part of who they were as one,
Fuse together, under the sun

Heed, even in those hours few,
Brightness lingers, unbound and true.

She was all pools and fields

 She was looking for herself
the fields down to the wharf went on for kilometers
The deep hollow hills of ankle high grass
She ran through that grass out running me

She reached the pools
Sacred broad sunlit pools
Where the divine people were set to bathe
And their children to experience joy

Her life was pools and meadows
I pleaded that God give her everything
As she was tragically busy giving to others
very few who reciprocated

People I was too childish to forgive
when she approached life with open hands
she was those sweet meadows
She was those pools of blessing

Nothing cut her or robbed her
The sky reached her and assured her
Under a ton of pain she hadn't deserved
That she was working through
Like a gulag survivor

Using her remaining energy to change the seasons
From winter to spring everyday
naturally with a smile and a knowing
So much beyond anything I could become

I was just the observer
She was the meadows and the pools
i was lost in numbers and theories
She sought the tangible experience

The basement city project

 The basement tour was our only other go to.
Accompanied by the CIA and FBI reps
Using their jargon as if we were supposed to know
I wasn't impressed, the acronyms and abbreviations
Oversweetened and childish
Something moorish for the cornsyrup addicted palate
So into another stupid exclusive elevator we went

Into another level entrance with wirey guards dressed in black
Receptionists whose excess of make up dropped onto the register
Where we signed our names and scribbled dates and hours
All very dark and official, smitten with their own formality
We were escorted down a long steel corridor
Then down under to the basement of the city
Here only the privileged few were allowed

As we arrived the people exiting seemed disappointed
Not a tangible real disappointment
But one that had concocted en route to appear to cool for school
Expressing their displeasure at the tour and all included
How much they were expecting beyond what the experience offered
But it was an amazing whole empty town waiting for survivers 
built hundreds of meters below the city for end times

 

Dining at the whitehouse

 He was disinterested as we sat down on his sofa
We must at the very least pretend to appear important
They interviewed us for two minuted and the president blinked
Overzealous I told him of my ambitions

Ever get the feeling when you bore others, somewhere someone dies
We went downstairs to wait for the next part of the tour
The lobby was fancy and they had hired serious faced people
To walk in and out of their offices denying entry

Even with all of the documents and proof of paid permission
We stood by the large window waiting for the next rejection
It was formal and polite it felt like restaurant food
I needed a napkin to clean my lips

Blabber blubber

 My mouth just kept blabbing
But my mind had lost any semblance of order
The sound of my own voice comforting
I just forgot the value of shutting up

So i continued to talk about nothing
As if there was some point to it all
As if I was discovering something
It wasn't a discussion

It was mince ground from conjecture and opinion
The words that wobbled out senseless and feeble
Communicated nothing that mattered
Words tattered birds flapped

Our minds roughly woven nests
Low risks low stakes how successful we were
Chitter chatter, the old wise ones wouldn've cautioned
But maybe they never spoke enough

Observing Beauty after dawn

 We sat in a cafe next to the mainstreet
Dawn had happened to us, some grand entity had cleaned the sky
People were finding courage to inhabit the streets
Up and down swinging arms, swinging legs
Coffee arrived and we sank into deep leather seats
Skin like containing our first thoughts of the day
Our first observations of the street 

Tongue like thoughts that seemed to taste and think in parallel
Obsessed with our goals and achievements
Watching the people as they passed by
Pontificating about our strategies and secret plans
How we got where we have reached today
Noone cared and most of our own minds didn't care
Beauty seemed to matter and how could it?

It told no lies, it basically shouted that it was fleeting
Temporary, untrustworthy, unstable magic
In the movement of the day something wonderful manifests
Wonderful in it's provocative and illusive nature
You tell me you cannot really understand from where I speak
As you inch closer to get a better look inside the glass
At that item that you will never be able to afford

To recieve love

 He turned to me and asked me how I was able to love.
I told him that I give that, that I would most like to recieve.
And this makes me grateful.

But how do you pass their defects and still appreciate them?
I look at my own, and my own need to continue to recieve love.
How can you be sure you deserve love?

I Know that I don't deserve love,
I strive to be worthy in a tainted world.
Then how do you recieve love?

I recieve love with an open heart,
It is not a luxury, it is a need.
But luxuries are still important aren't they?

Luxuries only work when they fall on a person
who has truly understood the base of their needs.
what is our most important need?

To learn how to love.