wooden.stamps.trees.being

there were these 19 feathers
all lying there
begging for me to pick them up
and place them in my hair
but I couldent
because the waves,within' the locks of my hair
love.crave.must. debut themselves each day
all alone.
I heard this sermon the other day
it was rather long and rather boring
but part of my mind reached out
up from the ground
and tried
and then,and then,and then...
my corpse
my wide asleep being
rose again
and yelped for air
ahh
a miracle
there it is,that sensation of
everything is alright,you have conquerd the fight.

swim team swim meet swim swim swim,quick quick,kick kick
butterfly stroke . hold...your...breath...freestyle.....backstroke
i was always best at backstroke
which is funny because i always apologize
after i say something I know sounded stupid
or contrived.

oh im sorry, please store your psuedo arrogant bullsh... in your cupboard of
that was a mistake
and he reminds me of a broken wooden ship.


christmas
came this year
with bells and yule tide and bows
it was silent though
and my childhood is gone
and my future has come

and I keep asking myself
if I could please keep my smile down
im waking the children
and then my mouth
tells the crowd
"no its quite fine,shes allowed"


this is how im coming up
right behind that one swimmer
who always gets 1st place
this is why,greenhouses are my life
my roots are digging deaper
my branches are extending there reach,far passed you,yourself
and far passed me
my passport needs new pages
volcano worthy layers
and my accent is no longer
remaining 5 dimensional.

the water
remains
just an aid
in getting you places
either 1st 2nd,or third place.


you see there were 19 feathers
and im only growing up because
i want to.