We will all just gaze upon forgotten stars
remembering how we felt that night true.
Our mindless memories will find passages through our brains,
but not to haunt-
for we don't know how to haunt anymore.

We are carelessly dancing inside delightful bubbles
but, do remember that bubbles burst
and we as people burst along side with them.

Tiny people burst along side forgotten shores made of giant waves
along the shores of our mindless memories
from the stars that made our very lives feel true.

heavenly places spread along the depths of my mind
as I subside from a space left alone and dignified
oh how the colours turned to see the vast depths of the sea
oh how the stories of our lives intertwine with the fury who lived inside of me
how doeseth the sunrise do it all the time?
the orange with the yellow beside the red light
it was flourescently graceful, so thought the moonlight
so graceful that when we leave
we will have come and left as one
always existing
along the depths of the mind of the sun to someone.

That's not true because I don't always win
I reciprocate, bounce back from
(and then)
I see the light of day in a distant facade
where one meets one and two stays the same
I become blue; very unified with the moon
and its everlasting (or so they say)
the whimsical feet on the streets that play
for the children who sang in rejoice on sunday
for sunday
for sunday
but somehow I fell into today
(a daze) it might have been, I say
I tripped and lost my eyes
and my, I couldn't speak about the things
you said last night
but, we keep on keepin' on
bounce back from
(until then)
the earth begins to tremble,
but be reminded we are not weak
we are all just trembling
to the things that we think.

" who knows if the moon's
a balloon coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should
get into it, if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing away and away
sailing into a keen city
which nobody's ever visited, where
always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves "

- e. e.