Snowy Lee

Liquid Lullaby

Lower your oars and row to and fro down the river flow

Through the reeds and lily leaves, down the river flow

Ripples rise as raindrops lie right down the river flow

Rattle, creek, until it leaks, sinks down the river flow

<Turn it in, man!>

I must not procrastinate

I know that I must not procrastinate

There's a million things that can't be late

They cannot wait, cannot wait


You know that feeling when your burdened, barely breathing

on your rapidly depleting borrowed time

You know that feeling when your burned out heart's still beating

and it feels like you could leave it all behind

But in all honesty, is it really time for hell yet

Far as I can see, it's the time to fight on, hellbent

Don't follow all the ways that the blazing flames of hell went on to burn

Divert your gaze, take the path that's yours to earn

Lead as you learn

Beat up and burned

clean off the curve

Weed out the words

you don't deserve

Heed what you've heard

See what your served

Prepare for teammates'

axes in backs turned


Though the thorns

stab through my fingers

my hand lingers

won't let go

As the blood

soaks in, forgotten

how to live life

on its own


all the fire

sharpened wires

in the air

Hand stays,

remains in place

unchanged, as though its


Trapped in the Veins of a Monster

Trapped within a maze that might just go ablaze

How might I find my ways through lifeless carcass-colored grays

So dig my hands and drench them in the brittle, burnt out flesh

Blood as dry as ash and stone will lead you down to breathing bone

Now that the children tell your story

Thought I could be the one to sing the songs of our new liberty

Thought I could be the one to sing the story of their nights

But now it seems that we are yet to reach our high in history

So now it seems that I must sadly join in on the fight


Every moment two hands meet

A tidal wave of warmth crashes, one to the other

A tide controlled by quite the fickle moon

Of fight or flight, fatigue and fever

So once when the other hand is cold

And as the warmth escapes

Embrace the hand your holding harder

Wish your warmth can be of comfort

So once when the hand is frigid

Let waves of an earthquake in a sea of heat

Overcome the night sand shoreline

Until the ocean finds its calm

But when the hand is warm to touch

Do not feel so full of guilt that you must pull away

Allow the hand to care for you

As you will once the warmth of you is yours to share again

Mirror: 101

One figure greater than the other

One, mirrored, looks back at the other

Cookies of a cutter, synced without a stutter

But one is always,

Always smaller than the other


You can rest here

Spare yourself a few full moments

Pour out all that ails you




And savor all the sweet



And glimpses of hopeful glimmers

Let the words rest on the page.

Let them walk, let them twirl and dance around if they want

But don't make them run.

May this be a mosaic of moments between movements.

The Village by the Mount (Part 1)

The stone grew high out from the sea

Out from the folds of flame

Now Sanded by the sands of time

And draped in fruits and game

Dormant tomb below

Clot of rhyolitic blood

Crystal lake above

With deer ripe and sweetly sour,

Berries rich with fat

It gathers gatherer's in search

Of where to hunt their lack

The stone stirs awake

As the heat of Earth's heartbeat

Churns the frozen rock

Their Houses built upon the hills

And farms along the plains

They thrive upon the frost of fire

That aids the growth of grains

Voice of stone alight

Warns the people of the spark

Burning, soon to burst