I Want To Taste It Again

I fill these lungs with just enough of you so that I’ll never quite say I had you, I watched the minutes go by, without even noticing them. The days they talked, barely did we touch, barely did we know each other’s love. The potential is far too much! For you to truly know anyone. Save that one you can.

This is the beauty of us. We show one another things we never knew existed within, lighting paths to new spaces, creating realms of wondrous joy – and then we fall. At first it might feel like you are empty. For what will you now do with all the unoccupied spaces? It is wrong to think you must remain with such a feeling – Empty. You at this point must find the perspective to see possibility beyond this supposed container. You must now grow to fill your expanded self! You must grow to meet your new heights

You’ve got to remember that the world isn’t going to wait up for you. It isn’t going to sit patiently while you get comfortable – while you get the order straight. Fuck order, and forget all that shit they tried to instill in you because what you end up finding is you spend your entire life trying to piece together some image that never does look exactly right to you. It’s magic don’t get me wrong, but you’re barely grasping what’s really at your fingertips. Until you do, all you have is a couple unconnected dots that may get you high or bring you down. And have you ever gotten high or down without a sense of direction? Talk about exhausting – only the crazy ones survive that.

Is she Real?

I see photos with remarkable composure and draw, I see smiles on the faces of those in her closest circle, I read extremely well written words with impact. I sit in wonderment more times a month than I imagined would occur over the years

I even edited her magazine once. I can dig the email up if I need some type of solid evidence. I do the things I do, and still could never imagine putting together that electric fashion show of a life she calls her day to day.

I want every line to have a purpose, there are no strays here, only intent.

 It has been so long,
you’re so young,
But I’ve heard deep things
Come and dip your feet in

Che la mia ferita sia mortale –  may all your wounds be mortal

A Real Feeling

Sometimes the only thing that makes writing good, is the honesty.

At the end of a slow crawl of a lonely day,
the nicest bit might be the cold burgers in the fridge,
and the clean unused plate set out next to the dirty one.

For me? I guess it doesn’t matter.. but I took it as a nice gesture

Why Am I Gone?

People will lie in this life to make it easier for themselves

You can’t blame them because they lie to themselves too.

But the bare blunt truth? You don’t do it for me. That’s it.

There is no lie, nothing hidden in it. You just don’t work.

It is an insurmountable ledge, you must wrestle up onto.

Go ahead and get struggling. Most everyone will suffer it.

Swallow. Again.

It’s okay. Just accept that yours is a different happiness;

Different than what you are seeking. You know the truth.

We’re All gods of Love Here

Love, me lights out,
Burn the sky down
Love, me lights out,
Burn the sky down

Lure me back with waves
Pull me deep beneath the shades;
I think I’m below
Your neck is the road

Lull me you’re the eye,
Rati your sweet lips;
Oshun I beg for a drink!

Tales of the banquet–I’m drunk all over again
I’m there all one again,
The first moon, the last full notebook

I’ve been reading your words,
And after all the pages,
Only the last virgin remains.

Imagine the last time I’ll be surprised at what you say
I don’t want to listen, what if I’m swayed,
at the end, with no more words to decide against.

Xochiquetzal, Clíodhna,
Take me on a way,
Lay me down at sea!
What vastness will I be

I’ chose you and you’re gone, and that’s ironic and cliche for a song

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To be expanded

I Used To, You

There was a time when I measured my life by the blooming of cherry blossoms

Now the train runs everything, and I am late.

In this modern age

How do you put it?
Obsolete to many?
You are very next.

 

What Should Be Salvaged Of This Wreck

Feeling like a computer attempting to execute the commands, but something in the logic is stickingxxch

The question is not whether the ship can be saved, there is no confusion around this truth.
What we are here to determine is what of the ship should have an effort made in its case.
Of all the good, and the bad, what will best serve the survived in the years after descent.
Would the lungs make the list if they weren’t intrinsic to the body?

Perhaps only what, by chance, climbs up on the sands nearby.

I think we can agree all of the collections hard earned, are perfect for the rite– A burning. Quick set the flames before any other decision is made. No moment to waste as we take on water, this won’t be complete without black skies and a warm asphyxiation. Now that things are a bit more pressing, take only what you need. Not what you want. Not what you love. Only what you need. If, when you find your way to shore, your hands are empty; you might consider yourself lucky. Washed clean of all the preconceived notions you had carefully crafted loop after loop, you can drink from the bottom shelf and feel no different.

You don’t want any drinks, but you will need one or two– just for the taste; clarity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.

Money, Notoriety, & Rivieras

Lights like how you imagine them, all perfectly lit to the evening; not to scrutinize anything, but to allow you to feel the deepest of dreams – it’s a feeling dammit, you fill it all in as you go – next time you fill it all with local analgesics from your recent trip to 2012, or perhaps color it in with temperatures from some of your Sumeria summers. These aren’t quantifiables. They are vivids of the imagination, a glimpse of you.

You can’t slip quietly through any cracks.

I had something I was writing you; it wasn’t a sonnet or anything like an ode, limerick, or quatrain-no it was just something-nothing like a burlesque, or villanelle; you know it had shape, sound and visual! Perhaps a rondeau is well in order, but not until you wait in line.

I’m a firm believer that when you work hard at something, and I mean truly work hard… You can appreciate the master work we happen upon in this life beyond what the innocent eye can see-yes you can stare for a long time and just keep seeing depths, while the others walk by only moments later because they have seen the mirrors surface, and none of the movements that brought it about, none of the steps that brought it before them.

A night with you, is always the shortest night of my life–Before I know it the sun strikes me across the spheres. We’re not anywhere near the…hush, it’s not a dream you can just leave.

You Get Ready

The gift is this; you waited for years – at times you were so thirsty that the sand actually went down nice and smooth; it even filled all the cracks in your skin to hold you together; you stayed in the sun long enough to forget it was hot; and you drank from an oasis or two in your delusions. Even though the clear cool water was actually more sand…You grew roots to every corner, and then pushed the boundaries of your vessel further. One morning without warning water washed weariness from the entire desert – of which you drank and drank your fill. With a burst of joy you sprang from within, bringing all the vivacious colors of bloom, bounty, and blessed to the surface.

You know better than anyone what’s in the phospholipid bilayer of each cell in your body… Is it something negligible? Or is it something you decide is more? I think you’ve got so much brimming within that you can’t afford not to let your magic flow with every motion. You could turn this entire valley green with just one lick of your tongue. This sky would bleed strawberry red if you laid down in the clouds. Turn the whole world purple if you close your eyes. You want colors, and you’ll have them.

 

Don’t worry baby, we’ll find a better field to gaze up at the stars from.

All is Well in Deserts

Some sheep just give more than other sheep.

What inspiration, what spirals, what a crown for life!

Shout loud that geometry really is a sacred blessing

born from nothing, something springs forward–

without; visible instruction, it churns within this universe,
and it is not begging – Life does not beg – It propels.

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Imagine if this wasn’t taken with a potato; NG national geographic.