to be written

whistle on the tracks high pitched hum the shake and sway while my fingers catch letters  words fly forward like a typewriter punching keys the page is not as empty as it once was the music continues  streaming endlessly  a beat linked together like the words  they combine together form a picture with no picture…

we see beyond

i look out and see beyond the horizon i lift my head up to face myself face the world facing with clarity uncompromised   honest about where i’m at  i see now i see me i am not the villian i thought i was and neither is the person before me neither is the landscape…

the sister of destruction

i am the sister of destruction coming your way  with no stops charging through and unceasing i follow after  and make life from the path of death she leaves as my welcome mat i am not angry i am kind i move slowly i put things where they might be noticed i make things beautiful…