We talk about ruins. We hear the echos of empty hallways made for ceremony. And see melted candle wax dripped down the walls, and spilled all across the floors. Something grips this place; An air that stands in the way of those who wants to pass freely. It warns us with shivers down our spine – An almost familiar kiss to our ears and necks. We walk through ruins, and don’t tend to think much of it. Not everyone has the kind of grit, and righteous indignation it takes put the spirits at ease. You want to know this place, its’ pangs, what harmony it deserves to find; You step soft in reverence as if intending to compose a hymn with your innocent discovery.
Are they ours? No, we can’t claim things as alive as this; They are too hard to read. You laugh and say perhaps the dirt might glow, even shine in a jar! I too think and feel this. I can’t help but be eager to try given your childlike enthusiasm – We will have to bring a jar the next time. But I imagine before too long we’ll be picking up handfuls of dirt; Letting it run from our hands, while we take a seat on the earth, and trace the courtyard stones; Stones laid here for us to touch, in ways that we must listen to nature to learn of. We sit quiet for a moment, and the wild comes. Still is the air, but I know how fun you get when you speak with your animal tongue.
There is a spirit to it all, a mind to the matter, and none of it can be solely ours outside of responsibility to what we choose.
You know my eyes already there,
Vacation on the island, sandy butts
Sunshine kisses, Keeping us drunk
I’ll float in all this bliss it’s enough
Chicken wings during our meetings
Okay the dream is getting convoluted
Wake up, by the time you read this, shit’s different
It’s a peculiar thing. So much surrounds us, we take so much in; Still it does not see fruit
I could sit here for hours dissecting and pulling different parts of my viscerals out onto the table. We’d need a bit more counter space for everything. I don’t even remember consuming half this shit. Most of it sprouted up out of necessity. Okay, that’s entirely not true. Less than a quarter is out of necessity, the rest is out of longing. If I’m honest I could probably think back to when that seed started growing.
I haven’t always been the ideal gardener. Flowers shouldn’t be the only thing to result from working in the soil. A balance of stem and space! There are geometries to it! I ignored the weeds, and now I’m going to pay with a lifetime of tired bones. If someone grinds them up after, they would make great nourishment for the roots to start again.
Isn’t that exactly the hopefulness we come into the world seeking? Not many things can accomplish that hunt. An arrow takes a lot of intimacy before you can land it through the pride’s heart. Is it a struggle? Of course, but that kind of death is easier than most.
Our body is full of organs but we always feel so fucking empty
Day to day the little moments in which I am alive; Those little instants in which I take a breath consciously and hold it just a little longer: Even though at surface level that’s impossible. The face of the earth and all her beauty; Her light and her darkness, her softness and her necessary adamance. Her hope in the face of doubting shadows – Her desire to give when the vessel appears empty – Those who gift happiness because they would never have it all to themselves; You, yes you too inspire me most with all your growth and elements I’m still discovering.
Let me take this walk along the countryside where I will find you down by the riverside, tip toes dipped in the water running wild child, I want to reach out my hand and fall into your stream, with a howl at the moon beneath it’s glow, from the depths of the tall grass, I’ll soothe your bones, deep into the night we’ll topple walls, walk among the ruins and step down from thrones, because we could have it all, but we learned from the fall: The way we smile when we found out we were born of the stars; It’s common courtesy to remind each other of our natural wonders and here beneath this willow tree I use my will to feed on you the ripened fruit while you watch me bleed out all my tragedy; Here I wear no mask because there is no need: Always the universe was inside of me; Hiding is impossible when you are lightning – So why don’t we really brighten up, crash down and start a primordial stew for two – Thirst is an understatement when you’ve devoured the dunes, have a drink I’ll pour it out of you, fountains will flow, and mountains will move. The winds will breathe change and we’ll have already left our old ways – And then we’ll go for a run, stretch out these limbs and fly for fun, all in a day when you know how to play – Along the way to Golgonooza
Now I’m afraid of what she finds in the dark, as I’ve seen her crawling, and sprawling me with her arms.
Do you know dangerous? Have you ever been trapped in a labyrinth? Would you walk straight into the dark and trust your senses – or would you put your hands out afraid to leave the wall? I’ve got words for her that describe a horrible tragedy beautifully, and she’s looking like it. Wonder if there is any point to all this? I’m sure death could be such a point, but only for a moment – I guess the only question that matters is, “Is the grass wet?”
I’ve begun to feel that the drugs are a way to think;
I’m beginning to think that the drugs are a way to feel;
Your body pressed hard against my frame, at this rate
It seems no matter what I pick up, I can’t put it down
My reason neglects it or I’ve got a good one to abuse
Told you do it right, so your eyes change and light up
Burn these clothes off to get our souls off, awakening
Standing in the rain and I’m all lightning up, every oz,
Of love is another 28.35 grams I’ll hit of us till it’s gone
You want more, this bank is always open,
Walk through that door even if you’re choking
Want some air, there’s none of that here
Only what you need; Come and get lifted.
“Come and get lifted”
Oh you missed the hues you couldn’t see with the lights on didn’t you
Arisen from my dreaming to such an alarm, I could hear not but my heart; blood running my veins. My guide, she stood still with locking gaze. If one could give silence after such an intimate use of blade then I should expect no word from her barren lips, but the complacency of these waking dreams – I still embrace to the warmth of such a cold chance – She cut her gaze towards East. I presume we are behind and without time. Yet she remains stoically leveled. For reason I could not discern, I sense this disconcerting calm would soon be stirred. She moves and simultaneously I alert to the falling of limbs cracking through the unsettled quiet of the wood. Her hand placed upon the trunk of a massive Wilder tree, not even a flinch as the splinters flew about the air whiffing her hair. Looking upon her demeanor I seem to replicate it. It’s as if every step she takes, every hand placed, works to awaken some great image within me. I feel urged to welcome it.
There is a reason we tread with a hop in our step.
I don’t wonder about the shadows played on her cheeks,
I don’t wonder about the places we’ll meet.
I know out here in the wild, she is a killer just like me.
Designed to slice and tear; if you don’t show strength beware.
I know she could be the end of me out in this wilderness here.
I know my skin is tough, but I can’t help but imagine her deadly walk;
I let her get just close enough, to feel the dangerous rush.
I wonder how long I’ll be bleeding once I’m punctured.
All that red, all that red I always wanted to become; There is no dread.
In my eyes she is so angelic, yet I can see her darkness, Oh how I’d devour it,
I know she’d take the bite if I got close enough; I’d bite her back!
Now lay your defenses at your side because I dare you to risk this one life you are given.
Look to her steady approach as she catches your scent.
Hold out your hands with cupped palms, and look firmly into those gems with understanding gaze.
If you can’t kneel before her, and accept her incisors at your throat,
If you quiver as she presses without hesitation, smoothly from clench to bite,
If you can’t quietly peer into the distance for those moments where she decides to drain you or not,
Then you aren’t the brave she is looking for.
Yes, she will bite, at times too hard. On the days her love is hardest,
You have to know that she will watch how you act, and put to heart your patience
If you can find a way through that armor, if you even bother,
Bless your hands when you hold her – A rose is more than form!
She’s beautiful. I state it simply because there is no complexity in notion; but her smile. It casts mystery, and with that shadows o’er complexity; as her presence makes certain that she is awakened to some truth to which I am yet asleep. I shant press her to answer, as our silence in travel seems to be such, alluding to my motioning mind, liken to a light which one’s eyes can not catch, yet warmth and fire can be felt, I revel in this flame, as if it is a certainty, one that I know will come to faith if given the life to nourish to a peak and fruit upon my tongue, or hers. But I am brought to water, that she is of few breaths raised for ear. I lose train of thought, and feel as though touched upon shoulder by breath, her voice, but my body is not given sense; only perceived by the consciousness. Her voice resounds the walls of my sanctuary; I can not give word to an infatuation only given life by my vision’s desire to incept a voice as truthful as light. My mind dances between waves of aether and as my body seems free of all physical restraint, I am shattered all at once as I come alert, a body awaken; She, the beauty that has yet to give voice to quench my thirst, has drawn my blood. Awakening me from a calm, my attentiveness required. I pause in hopes of word exchange, none come my way. I perplex of a women who would sink blade to open eye all without pass of one word. To think I’ve not even spoken to raise cause and may too soon have found the bad side of such beautiful flawlessness. My body is once again at calm, but to my observable perception I can conceive no motive from her. She refuses to give me word of our direction all I can gather is East.
I hope you know I could only be here so long,
It may not be enough of me to keep you strong,
but your troubles are not for me to solve
I’m sorry I can’t be the one for you,
I can’t muster the strength for what you must do
I know you. Well that’s false pretense. To be clear we’ve met before. We’ve exchanged deep gazes with empty words. We talked on all the things okay, but not really of consequence. You know about me. It’s hard to deny; I’ve crossed a few paths with your roaming thoughts… You go out there and face all of it very well; all the while thinking of those dire hungers which keep your heart rate a little above average. Well my question now is in the open. Are you still? What signs are you waiting for? It’s an awful place considered; To find yourself in front of a great expanse with all the potential washing over you while you just stand there – Still uncertain what to do next.
Come a little closer baby, put your breath into my chest; I’ll press my lips to your forehead, exhaling, “This is my heaven.” These moment where at the surface not much is stirring, but without the breakwaters of your touch my boat would find the waves rougher.
I want to travel to far away places, and then far away places that used to be near places until all the places have been far and near – Until every place has found space in my heart.