When the clouds hang low over the plains
And the cold wind blows across the pool,
I can just barely make myself believe
That it's the salty sea air I breathe.

Richenfeels Lullaby

Hush little fangirl, don't you cry.
Moriarty'll make your genius fly.
And if that genius won't fly swell,
James will take your doctor as well.

Hush little fangirl, don't shed a tear
Just because Watson came too near.
Don't run sobbing down the hall
Just because Sherlock took the fall.

Hush little fangirl, hold back the flood.
Molly will clean up all the blood.
She'll keep his cold corpse safe and sound
Until they put him in the ground.

Hush little fangirl, don't say a word
Or Moffat will unleash the writer herd.
And when they get their hands on you
You'll be glad that was all to Season 2.

Hush little fangirl, don't you sigh.
We'll get Season 3 now by and by.
And even if it's when we're sixty-six,
We'll still see how well Watson kicks*.

*kicks Sherlock's butt of course

Poetic Shipping

I wonder if she reads them,
The poems he writes about her.
I wonder if she feels a pang,
Imagining the lines writ for another.

Then he shakes his head,
"No, no,
"It's you."

I wonder who she is.
But I hope she counts herself lucky.
And I also hope she is the friend I'm thinking of,
For the two were well matched last I saw.

Web of Memories

A web of memories
Across the mind,
Blinking with synapses
Firing through minute pathways
That images long gone
Might be seen again.

I love the sky after a storm.
Last night,
To the west as the sun set,
The sky was a perfect rosy red,
Bringing this girl delight.

Slightly to the south,
The curve of the Earth
Had already thrown the clouds
Into purple shadow.

But to the west,
The clouds were painted
A perfect gold with lovely strokes.
Full yet subtle,
Defined yet I can see
Where the Painter has blended
The gold with the blue of the sky,
Washed pure with the passed rain.

So beautiful.

Unwanted by the
World, she must fight so that
She does not want it.

Falling apart,
Piece by piece,
That the Almighty
Might patch me up
With seamless threads
And perfect swaths of gold.

Sitting in the office,
Alone,
I let flies crawl over me.
I don't care.
I feel more dead
Than alive anyway.
Might as well look it.

Because I'm not in control,
And in that moment,
It's all I can do
To not throw a fit.
I seek to be a child,
Demanding it's way,
When a much Wiser Father
Says "no."

Teach me to walk better,
Saner,
Wiser,
That I may let things go.

888 Hours

888 hours
To August 25th
In Hillsdale, Michigan.

888 hours,
And then some,
Until I see them again,
My friends,
My peers.

That's not say
There are not friends
Near me now.
It's just I long
For what I do not have.

888 hours
Until I'm home again.

887 hours.

Drowning in music
And forgetfulness
But I forget
If I should or do care.

All I can remember
Is that my limbs
Beg to move
And long to fly.

There are duties
And responsibilities.
I will fulfill them,
Finding music in them
So that I might always drown.

I once invited the monsters under my heart,
All the darkness and sadness,
I invited it to tea.
I sat down all the tears in my psyche
And I figured them out
So that I might use them for a poem.
But now they won't bugger off!

Ocean Gravity

Something always brings me back,
Back to rolling waves
And salty water that sticks to skin.
It never takes too long.
I come flying back,
Tumbling down hills
To bury my heart beneath sand
And hide it in the tides.

(why don't they let stuff be untitled? annoying...)

A red and proud land,
Made heavy
With the weight of wanderlust
And years smashed onto years.

Curving lines
Trace water and road.
Out here,
Man finds a way
To simultaneously
Move with the way of the land
And slice through it.

A new dream is born:
To sit on these sifting sands,
And aged rocks of plateau,
And just be.

A Summer Adventure

Off on an adventure,
To journey back and forward.
To see what was
And enjoy was it,
And catch a glimpse of what
Will be.

So search the west for me,
The skies and the seas.
You'll find me where the stars
Walk the streets in daylight
And the wind of change
Blow us all about.

I shall not return,
At least,
Not as I am now.