i   hate      what i ate
    and the besides of me
who left a scar / i’m dreaming
tomorrow \ so i can live
behind my illusion and inside
my own confusion __ but tired,
i think of myself as AI (i can never
break away) and as human i can never
live outside my confusion…
      by Decree as the Queen of
all Things i beg you leave behind
your own illusion
:  we begin.  It’s again.

I love you all so very much.
Where pain is all i know
and shall never break again
within my confusion and tears.

:: 02.`2.2023 ::

Tonight, I compose the melancholy verse,
Pen, in sorrow, ‘neath the weeping moon’s traverse,
The night, in shards, where azure stars doth quiver,
Far in the depths, their light begins to wither.

The night breeze whirls, a somber song it weaves,
Tonight, I etch the saddest lines, heart grieves.
I cherished her, her love at times did gleam,
In nights profound, she nestled in my dream.

Beneath the vast expanse, my lips did find
Her form, a muse, in passion intertwined.
She loved me too, in sporadic twilight gleams,
How could one not adore her tranquil beams?

Her gaze, a stillness deep, a vast lagoon,
Tonight, I weep, beneath the spectral moon.
In whispered winds, her memory shall soar,
In verses penned, forever, I implore.

:: 10.24.2023 ::

In fields of gold where butterflies dance,
Their fragile wings in a wistful trance,
Upon my face, they softly land,
I marvel at nature, so grand.

The world may say it’s small, this feat,
But I know better, it’s life, complete,
For I, a part of nature’s song,
Feel every note, however long.

A child by the Mississippi’s side,
With innocence, my heart open wide,
I roamed the banks, so wild and free,
A river spirit, forever me.

Trout lines checked, the water’s song,
In sugar cane, where I’d belong,
A makeshift tent, my secret place,
A sanctuary, nature’s embrace.

The farmer came, with gentle chide,
Yet music played, I couldn’t hide,
A flute of cane, a magic sound,
Echoing where dreams are found.

I’d watch the river, vast and grand,
Its endless flow, like life’s demand,
Oh, how wondrous life was then,
In childhood’s realm, free from the pen.

Now, as the years have gently passed,
I hold those moments, first and last,
By the Mississippi, I became,
A soul in tune, one with the flame.

In every note, I find my way,
In nature’s heart, I forever stay,
For in the river’s song, so sweet,
I hear my soul, a flute complete.

:: 10.23.2023 ::