Wind, a forced entry*
A wind blowing day, is outside my door
Whipping all around but don't know what for
Maybe it is to show its strength so strong
Or to make things move around, right where they belong
No matter what it is, it is a force not seen
Or ever to be reckon with, if you know what I mean
Dom*Colucci 2011
Leaving for good*
Blowing and scurrying out in the road
The trees have left a bundle, to lighten their load
Departing from their parents, out on a limb
A big strong gust from a witches wind
Now in the open air, as they did leave there home
We look at them fly by as to say, "leave this one alone"
Dom*Colucci 2011
The departure of a tree*
Autumn is here, the leaves falling again
Time for a blanket to come, like we knew when
It seems the spring and summer did not last
But are Now a faded memory, of times that have past
So until the last leaf has fallen on the ground
We will then know winter is coming, soon to be around
Dom*Colucci 2011
Letting go to fall*
A few clouds are out but the sun is all around
Wind blows softly, just to make a sound
It is autumn and there are colored leaves
The moments move on, they depart from the trees
But for one that appreciates a painting so clear
Is the beauty in such quilted patchwork, of eyes so near
Dom*Colucci 2011
Walk into nothing but myself*
A walk through a hole, I see this time
Out into this unknown and into the sublime
To be on the other side of reflection with the mirror
Obstacles of myself, to see a little clearer
Void my ticket and check me out
To leave this reality alone without a doubt
Dom*Colucci 2011
Man's law is attracting*
Conformity has made things smell rotten
Abiding by law of ignorance, to be forgotten
The mist creates the one in the veil
Endless journey in a mind filled jail
Hope with cause for reason one looks for
But missing the point from its very own core
Dom*Colucci 2011
Anger defeated with one hand sound*
Defeating the anger and its violence it does profess
One does not go with more anger to get results, I guess
For this would be objective in one's willing eyes
To become more and more blind and make more cry
For it would to be no longer with the cheeks to be slapping
As in Zen* with Jesus Christ, turning the cheek to hear one hand clapping
Dom*Colucci 2011
