Shattered pieces of that summer sun tea jug, perhaps we are those pieces. Perhaps that is our peace or at least my peace.

From the deepest depths of hell to the tallest radiant flower.
Three blessed innocence lingers,
bodies with souls,
bodies with spirit,
bodies with wear and tear.
Abandonment beyond torment.
Desirable lusting,
milk and honey in my comb.

Throbbing sobs of SOB nature.
All is peaceful, All is war.
Merely perceivable, inevitably believable and
no one really gives a damn.

seas crashn' in,
blood swirln' drain,
busted in tattered glass mess.
Tides come in but,
"it is well in my soul."
Disenfranchised thine eye.

Bursting through seams,
selling nations denim jeans.
Destroy icons by making them icons,
deliberate fundamental image-less.
Turntables booming loud meaningless.
All amplified, All important.