Climax?

Calvary with golden sword
Find no one was ever here before
They plant a flag in the rain soaked earth
And blow their rusting trumpets berth.

The flag blossoms into a tree of advance,
Over hills and valleys they carry their lance.

They must find something to defeat
Or they cannot go back to the shining fleet.
So they look and search the land
Finding something else unplanned:

Something was there before them
Its primal scent searching to condemn.

Fade

Hands of infinite longing held at bay
One reaching for, the other away.
Grasping each other's hands
Dreaming forever in new lands.
A moment, a switch in desire
feelings are thrown in the fire.
A whole half apart,
away, forward heart.
The hands loosen a bit,
As recoiling from a hit.
What is one to do when everything
fades like the winter to spring?

Mail?

Heavy feet on the sand
Sent to her
A simple letter
(Including my heart)
Postmarked to the end
Or the beginning
Of Fireflies St.
Because I forgot
Where she lives.

Circumlocution.
Of the truth.
Exaggerated realities,
But only
For hopeless tragedies.

"I'll just wing it"'
I said
And put
the blank letter
In
My
Worn
Mailbox.

Raining Stars

When the sun falls
Beyond the cool horizon
And the wind calms for just a second-
Before the moment fails,
When it just takes time
To see
At two o'clock in the morning.

This vaunted understating-
Is visible only to those awake.

"What are these fools doing in their houses?"
I ask to myself,
Before I realize that this night;
This is mine.
MY WISH,
MY WISH.
MY WISH!

I'm selfish, I know.
But, I laugh and dance to myself
Under the heaven rain -
For at least one of these wishes
Has to be my own.

Mediterranean and I don't know if you are you

I am so I am so I am so I am.
You are you.
Are you?
Are you?!?
How are not the way to see?
Goodness I have many attachments.
Denied, a lot of this message is not sure.
Losing my name is a bit more about this-
Finding your help with you can be a few months,
Grinning from the other day in the new one.
(Written using only suggestions from my keyboard)

The Dishwasher

He stands behind the sink
For yet another hour
And tries to scrub the Mexican off of himself.
Patches of his worthless skin coming off
From submersion in the cruel water day after day.
The lines on his face getting just a bit harder.

The only reason he continues
Is because he cannot stop himself.
They said life would be better here.
This is what they gave him hope for?
For less than minimum wage,
His life stolen day by day to feed his family?
No.
He is not a slave.
He is a human as much as anyone else.
Why can't anyone see that?

Surrounded by people that laugh at his heritage
When his only drive is for a new and better life.

His english is faltering.
But his heart is still whole.

He whistles an old tune from his homeland,
While people,
Angry at only the fact that he is trying,
Spit on his progress.

Whittling

My thumb,
Watch the thumb.
You don't
want to cut
yourself.

That's it,
A little to the left.

A face forms.

Forgetting Oneself

Whirl in the whirlwind,

Forging the highlands with sheets of brightest blue.

Nothing betraying,

Except the mind of the essential, hopeful new.

Withstanding the essence

or the understated brilliance within me;

I surrender and hope

for the wind to take me past free. 

Yelling for the masses to no one's ears

And letting the world's hope drown my fears.