the toxins of angst

 from my taxed brain. 

Useless wars, town hell meetings,

 child abuse, greedy banks

and so many other human follies 

motivate me to cry out.

I also seek to share 
the overabundance of love, 
that graces my days, 
wringing my soul out 
like a washcloth 
over those who are parched 
for drenchings of hope, 
in their lonely conclaves.

Nature often moves me 
like a ball of dandelion seed, 
my thoughts tumbling in awe 
at the vast beauty before me, 
as I spread my fertile thoughts 
in cotton soft plantings of words.

I write to reach 
all that is untouchable, 
my black keys 
opening closed minds 
just enough perhaps to 
insert other possibilities 
left unconsidered.

Newspapers are 
my main medium, 
the remnants of 
trees executed 
so that I can bark, 
and take my leaves 
in fanciful thought.

Placing alpha-bets 
in a gamble that might 
make others winners 
in the game of life.

But mainly because 
some higher force 
fills me with an 
enlightenment, 
I am but one 
of many candles 
graced with the fires of 
heavenly thoughts 
illuminating the darkness 
that grips our world.

I condense thought 
from the evaporation of tears, 
and in the brilliance of smiles spread, 
I fingerpaint my passions 
with frantic digits flying 
across a rectangular stamping pad.

I rant and wail in coffeehouses 
blackening even the palest lattes, 
I recite whispered bliss in love's ears 
and stroke her needs 
with my tongued endearments.

I have immortalized death 
and obliterated life at times 
having been baptized in its essence, 
I have cradled newborns, and dying men 
in my arms, each set of eyes full of wonder, 
but I have yet to touch the bottom of my soul.

The well of thoughts 
and dreams that puddle there, 
are not yet drawn to slake my thirst, 
to capture life's intensity in a splash of ink 
define the true beauty of it all 
and become at long last--- 
po-ethereal.

ArtWhimsically Yours Studio 
MFB III Productions-(c)-2010