Define Poetry

                                                               Poetry:
             To manipulate death for eternity 
             or squirm into a symphony
             or cry gorgeous dreams
             or pound at dying magic. 
             

how to: be happy

                   sleep every night
                   to remember 
                   yesterday

                   let the woman
                   live for
                   color

                   trust a friend
                   to believe 
                   dreams

                  cut flowers and
                  linger with
                  winter

                  learn from secrets 
                  and devour 
                  light

                  keep joy vast
                  and not
                  decaying

The Priviliged Child

                                       a daughter as
                   elaborate as fire
  
                   born with velvet
                   for a sister

                   happy as your 
                   porcelain prisoner

                  always delirious from
                  repulsive beauty
       
                  but haunted by 
                  you

The End

                       What would happen if the sun never rose in the sky?
                       Would the moon cry?
                       Wondering what happened to it's long lost 
                       lover?
                       Hoping that it's okay, that it didn't 
                       suffer?

                      What would happen when the world went dark?
                       If that mama and baby never left the park?
                       If that quick goodbye kiss was the last one you 
                       shared?
                       If you never knew for sure if she
                       cared?

                      What would happen once everything went cold?
                      Would you forget for a second all you had been told?
                      Would you treat those last few moments like a new
                       beginning?
                      Would you finally choose to live like the world is
                       ending?
    
                                       
                                       
                                   

The Changing of the Leaves

                         Do leaves look forward to autumn?
                                 
                         Do they twitch anxiously in anticipation 
                         waiting to break free from from the tree?
                         Do they dream of sailing through the wind
                         hoping they can float all the way through the sea?

                         Or do they tremble in fear
                         hating the idea of leaving home?
                         Do they cling tightly to where they belong
                         too nervous to let themselves roam?

                         Is autumn like the end of school?
                         Or more like the end of youth?
                          Is it something to look forward to?  
                          Or just an inevitable truth?