Over The Trees

We take our tails over the  trees

Free the seas of blessings in we

We are kids— we are pissed—

Sometimes, we are kissed

 

Out of boredom drains our blood in rains

Can’t kill the swash before the sea

Rather would we kick the skies over the trees

We are pouring peace this dawn

You can miss your sleep bus and meet us at morn with a Y car

 

Just by the crossroads of angels and demons

We are free like birds

We are birds flying over the trees

Cracked Cloth

I reflect in a cracking sac cloth

The mirror is me

Embers hook my feet in the dew at midnight

O’ i feel me in two’s and three’s

 

It’s not me I see by this cloth of darkness

 

The night is a battle field within me

O’ me again and again in pain— wail not

For I pray to Thee: He shall heal the living

 

O’ thee

Let the shadow in me slide freely

Rainy Day Saturday

Gold dripping from the world above

It’s a saturday by 2 after the sun

I feel the day back at 5

Sliding by the river side

Nature got us by his side

By heart i pour a free write

One Dime

Twilight can’t fail her day

The clouds shall gather a mood to pay

Give me one noon to trail your way

I will not go blank with no dime to pay

 

Your heart is a way of a treasure island

A man

   becomes milky in thousand steps to stay

I have sat you before this jungle cave

 

Feel no same— smile no shame—

Good luck I do aim: for you and it’s no game

 

Just remind my heart for one dime

It is a symbol of the stain after we dined

The Spirit Summons

The gong summons
at twilight
It pounds the heart
of village Masters
It is a call to the palace

The crown walks
It walks to spits from spirit
That,
Ears
Shall tingle to vigilance

The tiger roars in vain
The ant
Captures the earth
with fear
Children
Thirst insane.

The Spirit Summons

The gong summons
at twilight
It pounds the heart
of village Masters
It is a call to the palace

The crown walks
It walks to spits from spirit
That,
Ears
Shall tingle to vigilance

The tiger roars in vain
The ant
Captures the earth
with fear
Children
Thirst insane.

Footprints

He sits on balloon hill
The eyes
on evil footprints
It is a taboo
An ancestral symphony