Manatees of May

'Ello all. Today I am in quite the happy mood. Not entirely sure why, but there's no point in spoiling it with questions! It is a beautiful day outside; I cannot fully justify why I'm still sitting inside plastered to this computer screen, other than I felt compelled to post. Currently in a summertime revamp phase.
"River man, oh River man, what is a summertime revamp?" you ask.
That's the glorious time of the year when I make all my plans for the upcoming year. New years’ are far too cold and busy for me to ponder such important topics, so I save it for this wonderful time of year when my spirits are lifted by the warming weather. Let me tell ya, I am out doing myself with plans. Hell, if I accomplished half of the stuff I put into motion it'd be a good haul. Really though, what is the point in only planning things you can definitely get done? Live alittle! On my list for the upcoming year: Go skydiving. Realistic chance: .0001% Do I care? Not particularly. If it is done, fucking awesome.

I want to start writing again. Prose, I mean. I used to write short stories constantly. Mostly falling into the fantasy realm, I harbored half-assed dreams of getting a novel published. The book didn't have to do well - I would love if it did - but just to see my name on that cover. To know that locked within those pages was a world born only of my mind and the various sources of inspiration I called upon. That someone besides myself could see all the twisted tales I weave in my head all day long and perhaps even enjoy one. Fucking awesome. However, I swerved away from all that when I went back to school. No time for imaginary worlds when I'm trying to learn the scientific intricacies of the one I inhabit. That's another thing on my list though: write my ass off this year.
In truth, I am a man of such little discipline that these aspirations are virtually self-defeating. The more I want to accomplish something, the further from my reach it is. On my list: Stick to my guns. Say it. Do it. Repeat.
Plenty of other junk on the list, but there is plenty of time to elaborate. For now, I want to go onward to today’s piece.

Grinning in the Face of Fate

Don’t worry, little fellow…
Picking at the cherry tree
Love will find you before you go
He is on his way I’m sure –
He is rarely late, you know.
For what he carries on his back,
I assure is worth the wait.

I have just the one in mind…
There is this little lady
Laying beside the river bank
She appears the lonely type
Tired of the lying boys
Lying –Hidden- in the bushes,
Waiting for their chance to pounce.

Her lovely gaze is skyward,
Mind lost somewhere in the clouds-
I’d bet she’s waiting on love too.
Love and his tired wings to
Swallow her whole and take her
Far away, so damn far away
She forgets every detail
of her lonely river side.

And knows only love and its
Intricacies. It’s ugly
And corroded intricacies.
Perhaps you’re her stainless knight
Aberrant little fellow
Listlessly plucking leaves from that
Cherry tree in tune with the

Song of your feeble breathing
Waiting to find a surprise
Amongst all the monotony
Perhaps, my friend, she is your
Sweet Summertime Butterfly
Destined to set your life abloom
And release you from this tree

This aging and exposed tree
How long has it served your need?
Assisted your escape from thought?
Not much longer now, dear lad
Love is surely on his way
Carrying your future in a
Quiver on his back. Ready
To uplift you life with the
Gentle strumming of his bow.