very fast quick writes on our second day of class

Greeting the world, spreading words of beauty
Covering my sins with verbal incense and pleasant ditties
As I climb cliffs to free my mind of convoluted pity
Rose colors I view my crime scene amending ponderous mistakes,
sullen and gritty

No more be grieved at that which thou has done
Smiling, enjoying a bouquet of ancient wine before I reach its dregs
The road to hell is paved with good intentions hard fought and won
Sadly I worked overtime on this Frankensteinian leg

I want to say your name
Wasn't it there in centuries of stone?
Who name's names forever known
to free our forefather's of any blame
who thought to ever try another way?
In the future this song remains the same.

the currents of people part in the rain
dancing to liquid tunes we duck and cover
why not take off our clothes together
and make magic of this weather ritual
not divided, but with one another.

There is a moment in each day that satan can not find
glimpsing sacred we whisper
a Torah or a Veda of special wine
blissful smiles the other's must endure
or be drawn to imitate a blessing.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard...
alight our senses with wind and fire
centuries of musical spheres aspired
A dance of the bravest as we let down our guard forever retired.
Breathing to the best of flowing wonder

another quick write poem based on a first line borrowed

Urban myths hold secrets only revealed
by hidden cameras mandated by the state
while also underneath lies a vast underground so cruel
Our families can try to remain hidden in body armor
or venture forth with no weapon but trust,
a mission possibly ruinous
hiding in oceans swirling in hate propelled by
imagined flippers until we disappear
or to stay behind in smoking ruins, blacking out
There is no chance without maps, our only weakness denial
As for survivors we fathom these waves chancing on treasures
or a fetid corpse
There is little nourishment but hard tack left by others
who have drowned
Their fouled compasses left revealing lost chances,
in communal ruin.
Will you venture forth to stand your ground?