Green Eye Haiku

Green eyes smile wise
like Einstein was a pupil
Big, bright, wide, perfect

It’s Three O’ clock

It’s Three O’ clock!

Where are you?

I’m awake laughing like life is just a joke!

All alone,

not a soul to hear me moan,

and for once life is good.
Achieved without a toke.

In this mean old world,

where blue is a normal tone,
let's grasp to what we can hold.

Today,

before the cock crows,

I found color in the dark callus of night,

and all you poor fuckers were asleep before midnight.

Wrapped up in falsities for warmth.

Just think I could’ve been you,

and missed out on late life.

Well rested but colorblind.

I smile

The yawning moon hugs us to earth,
I smile at you spinning in the falling cold.

Arms outstretched, disregarding the snow.

You orbit, catching snowflakes with an open mouth;

Tongue at an, “Ahhhhhhh.”

Kissing to keep warm in the frozen sunrise,

you laugh, as I do the same.

The arctic morning chill wakes us.

Silent, as our kisses lay still in the dropped snow.

Your hair lays black in shadows and curls with the turning wind,
it whips wild, grabbing the gusting breeze.

Each dying spin, lays it straight, dawning your collar with a grin.

Stars shimmer for their last time this winter,

you swirl with a laugh,
as gloved-hands catch each other in a giggling fall;

Landing soft as silhouetted angels.

You smile,
and I do the same.

Heroes Get Roses

Heroes get roses.
Champions on horseback ride.
Give them a reason to cheer.
Let them find their feet.

Heroes win roses.
Cause applause.
Sometimes on deaf ears,
They've won a true prize.

Heroes never listen to praises
A rose makes no sound.
Hands clap in vein,
A hero knows no fame.

Heroes don't get roses
Never care to hear applause
Don't need a medal to rise

Heroes Get Roses

Heroes get roses.
Champions on horseback ride.
Give them a reason to cheer.
Let them find their feet.

Heroes win roses.
Cause applause.
Sometimes on deaf ears,
They've won a true prize.

Heroes never listen to praises
A rose makes no sound.
Hands clap in vein,
A hero knows no fame.

Heroes don't get roses
Never care to hear applause
Don't need a medal to rise

Silent Night on a Hill

Silent night on a hill,
Christmas eve and I’m still;
Motionlessly waiting for peace,
Quietly in the few minutes
before the holiday sunrise.
The Christmas spirit exists
in a few ticks, it’s there and gone,
while consumed sleepers' sleep.
The street-stained snow gets covered again,
greeted with a new coat.
Solitarily that feeling erupts,
That tranquil beauty materializes,
taking hold to warm a few lucky hearts.
Until that boisterous morning unwraps itself,
and that stillness disappears
regrettably lost in reality for another year.

Lies as an Extra

Couldn’t I do more than listen?

Shouldn’t I be spending my time in silence?

If all my words are shouted,

would it hurt to whisper?

Lost on falsities my lips wondered,

maybe a whimper of truth leaked

and got hungry.

Scenes dissatisfy my tastes,

I enjoy confusion.

It didn’t make a difference,

when all is cut to illusion.