Michael Roysdon

sing the words to your heart's rhythm,
feel the push and pull of the collective,
bright realities flowing through each vessel.
First as fire, hot and red;
...

I promise,
that when day enters night
I will be there to absorb the transition;
The heated air slowly transforming to
...

I can pretend
to have the eloquence of a business man.
I can pretend
to be in poverty as a man without a home.
...

A man sought coin in a voluminous fashion,
a few more pounds to add to his loot,
used to help satisfy a prodigal passion.
...

I feel infatuated with this crypt;
the blend of emotions i feel inside,
rip through all of the pages of this script,
and forces thoughts that had been left aside.
...

'The clock ticks just a little more and I
Feel the same as I did 10 days ago.'
Words Whispered to one who is scared to die,
used to satisfy and fuel the ego.
...

The second cycle of twenty-eight followed the horizons;
The fourteenth of these, seemed to add a hint of red to the foundation,
and each person seemed to cling to subtle smile,
little trinkets, collected as the sky collect clouds
...

One
Can
Follow
a given
...

Spring, the skies open;
The water surges around
in the distant clouds.
...

Day In and Day Gone

As day skips to night, I will breathe,
adoring the natural flows;
...

Change in time's webbed forfeit of ideals,
Hammering injustice through a crooked smile.
Admit these travesties are repressed within;
Man seeks adoration, with not concern of the voice that gives it.
...

So, the child act and seek,
A new hope on the fringes of a dead city,
Spanning the previously denied influence,
Over the masses that were denied them so.
...

Shadow of another, breeds the shadow of ourselves,
Waking form zero, and sleeping back to zero,
Add two, subtract one, and add another,
One cell divides into two and what before that?
...

Clovers settled in a basket behind a vase,
Their chemical urgencies ring in open lights:
Masquerading as obscure patterns, in a dim shadows,
Sessions lay about in uncanny rites,
...

Remember, remember, a time
When aches were just silence from adults,
When we sought a refuge from the torrents of monsters,
Establishing themselves in our imaginations,
...

I: Impurities and Purities

In rivers and gorges nature finds its bounty,
These soft and fragile verses sang in tides,
...

A rose sleeps in a shallow meadow,
the wind raising and falling on its collective,
nurturing nature, and slowing staining it's beauty.
This criminal urgency tearing the slow breathing petals away.
...