the man with folded legs
and soggy shoes just below the shoreline
sits on my love
the wind tells the trees to breathe
as the man with the folded legs
reminds me of what one can do with so many tears
I can make an ocean for you
for the sea's make fond memories
and waves scream louder then my voice carries your name
the man with the folded legs sits on my love
plush and ripe
and buries it in sand
heavy toes write a eulogy on my burial site
as his folded legs walk in lies
where to the sea he falls

I sit beneath
my wide-brimmed hat
below a sky so grand,
I wonder how far away
tomorrow lies.

Certainly in that blue expanse
there is born one place
where the slightest moment
crosses over into what is yet
colorless and untroubled.

Where you have no given name,
but are distinguished
by the way the wind
catches your hair,
or why you cried as a child.

There is a house today full of gloom
The smell of food lingers in every room
She feels sadness as soon as she walks in
He is lying quietly in the almost empty den
There is talk of life, and there is talk of death
She tries her best to catch her labored breath
She remembers the last time that she left
Now he is gone, she only blames herself
She feels her tears as they start to fall down
It will be the last time she sees him above ground
She walks into the den and sees him lying there

My conversation with the famous person went something like this! How did you get so famous just by writing and flipping pages? When I become big and Grand my lyricism will be psychedelic, moving within your system like a high repellent!. I told him I'm jealous he said " one day you two will reap great wellness!, be that diamond that you are !as sharp as your poetic lyrics that got you this far"!.