little i lamb

little i little am
a little dye for a little i lamb

Who dyed this sheep blue as sky?

Sheep come in two colors
Sure the white ones are often dingy
And the black ones gray with wisdom

But who dyed this little ewe blue?

it isn’t dye, says a voice,
the white paint wore off
this is an indigo sheep

There’s no such thing!

says you! The sheep rears up
And climbs the great blue,
Invisible except against clouds
a little i lamb named me

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Dreamers Light

We are the dreamers, we are the light
A thousand tiny pieces preparing for a fight

We bring an opiate of hope to a world on fire with pain
A red cloak holding bitter truth: our lives are but a stain

Oh, we'll back down, you know we always do
In the din of greater wisdom, and things we know untrue

But if you see a fury glint deep burning in our eyes
Remember that our dreams pass glory 'fore they die

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Dying (to the flesh) - A Poem

Here's a poem I wrote October 30, 2007. Enjoy. Or don't. Note: Despite the fact that this post claims there is more to read, there isn't. Unless you want to see the comments which thus far no one has written. If you'd like to make comments so you have something to look at when you click "Read More," that's fine.

Dying (to the flesh) -slowly- on a Wednesday;I
Am what you make me

a million (shiny)tiny dreams in the
the purview of the divine comedy(
make me whole again)IMMENSE AND GROWING smaller with
every passing breath you (i am immune to love )amaze me
(don't waste yours on me)

dream of men dream of sky in the wandring by and bye


Godshe's
        lookingthis
                   way

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