Ash Hopper

It's an enchanting thing to bask in moonlight.
The nights when it shines so bright
That you can see everything
In that spellbinding glow.
To dance beneath the trees,
In and out of shadows
Disappearing into darkness
Then emerging again to rejoin the stars.
The grass beneath my feet
Watching the gentle breeze
In the willow as the moon
Breaks free and is seemingly
Only just beyond its swaying branches.
Almost close enough to touch.
The air filled with scents of autum,
And in the midnight whispers
Of chirping crickets and singing tree frogs.
It feels almost like a sheltered captivity
Comforting and protecting in the silence
Away from all mortal invasion...
And yet with a distinct awarness of discovery,,,
I am here...

A Literal Offense

Letter by letter, word by word, line by line, Until my inner self is spilt within these pages. ... and you mock me... This is me, here and now, a part of me, In each and every drop of this ink, .... and you belittle it... My feeling, my fear, my thoughts, Dreams, ambition, desires, all that is me, ... and you degrade it with iinsult... Perhaps in your mind poetry has messed me up. Perhaps I do live in lines of a poem. But I disagree... In my mind it is the poem that lives with me, I give it life and freedom with release, How dare you mock me... You do not have to accept me, It suffers me in the least. I would only hope to be seen for that which I am, And see you for that which you are. So why do you hide? Hiding away from me, When I am here in full view for you to persecute... Why is it,, that when you look at me,,, you don't look at me... When you look at me, you don't look at me?

A Writers Thoughts on Love

Love... an invention not yet invented yet demonstorized and terrorized by a society full of loveless entrepeneaurs Who are obsessed with it's possession.
"To own that which no one else has."