amaranthine

nothing’s more than nothing less

and the song the birds sing echoes the sentiment

of the violence of the thunderstorms on the horizon

just beyond temptation.

colored-

fading to black and white or

some sort of grey

that perplexes the bartender but

pleases the soul.

 

nothing’s more than nothing less

because in the scheme of always and forever

the soldiers get lost in the now.

solitary beauty

pierces the fog

while grasping at straws and

heaven’s last attempt

at making something more beautiful

than this.

 

nothing’s more than nothing less

perception bursts into the room, guns blazing

and handing out lollipops and cigars

in celebration

of the birth of everything else.

chemicals mixing, marching

showing true colors in a world

that is nothing more than what

shifting light allows it to be.

 

nothing’s more than nothing less

and we’ve been here before in the not so distant future

and I said the same things to all of them

that I plead today to you:

because nothing.really.matters.

arrogance and compassion, and faith like feathers

and dreams and hopes and dimes wasting in

wishing wells all wind up,

sooner or later,

on my lips.