On Travel.

Tale #1

He put on his best black suit and wig. Caught a flight to Goa and watched her float.

After hours of travel he was back, and he wet his floor.

Tale #2

He was in a cage, part of a troupe. During its travel, a masked man stopped the truck.

Bang. Last Meow. Whimper.

The King never got to choose.

They Slit, I Riled

They did not talk, instead slit my throat
and I lay their muddy
dead
and irate.

They did not say, instead slit my throat
and I lay their
without a host
riled up
and waiting to shoot.

Obscurity Slow.

Slow death of joy brings a peace like no other
Ignorance fills his mind and I rumble.

I go up on to the throne
and I play slow.

No attention. Invisibility. Despair. It all comes back like
it never went for a hike
and I wish to lie alone in
my creative lair.

A New Dawn

To this day I salute:

A new word is forged,
as I lite my lighter
with strength forgotten
the ideas come collide

Dreams ride along the River of
Resurrect, soon shall minds
be torn

The hearts of wonder
rise asunder
as I talk words of blunder,

To this night I arrive:

As a new sandman
rises, amidst the picture
it survives

A length of idea
is prolonged, as a story so
foretold. 

The Simple Things

My old friends, they made me smile

It was a gradual rise as the day whiled.

She brought some news, a shocker

of change, whether it was a boon or 

a bane I didn't ask her.

Another had a new talent,

one which I wished I hadn't

not pursued.