If I Had More Life

I draw you–in–many don’t go down this road.
There is too much to do,
even with what we have we’re short – we’ll make it work
I see the world writing,
a new story everyday
poetry month, another year –
It’s me, it’s me, it’me,
With brave words I hide many fears,
fear of loss, of pain, of truth,
I am not the words I’ve written
It’s me, words I’ve always been,
how to use them, how I bend,
Yet in all this months time,
I’ve managed not to rend
words from within. I am dead
Never doing what I’m supposed to be doing,
and maybe I won’t do what I should,
but I’ll end up doing what I’ve done,
and that is something.
I’ve got more life!
Have you seen me with a fire?
Have you seen me when I’ve got everything together?
Just the right amount
The right mask,
A taste I can enjoy at my own pace; nothing moves at our own pace
To my own tune – I’m sacred
Off key and I’m still enraptured – a captive audience does not decide what it likes
I’ll enjoy this with ceremony

The Creator’s Dilemma

I opened my eyes this morning, and determined there were many ways which I could get out of bed, and even more ways with which I could feed my heart, and spill the colorful soul I’ve got within.

All day, all day, I wanted to be me & write and laugh with the people I dig. Smiling, breathing, and looking up at the sky catching some rays and not catching anything remotely sad. So I grew my hair out and moved in ways that I thought was becoming of joy.

I did my best by waking up at 5 a.m. I’m driving over 150 miles to the city of LA which I dread with excitement – while I work on a large government contract which gives thoroughly unspecific directions ambiguous enough to discuss the teaching practices of vageuries and meditative floor sweeping in a post Pythagorean world. A younger me would have considered this as far off from my true self as possible; most likely using a semicolon much sooner in this caption.

Thus I learned that making the work light, with spirit and jokes, will help to ease life’s rough edges; that someone who comes into your office saying they are all about the money probably isn’t lacking passion – also the importance of sarcasm.

What will I make for you today? 

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So what is this dilemma? You just make and make!

In this moment I lack the capacity to mold each spark into what it deserves to become, and lack the ability to give it the autonomous initiative to complete itself. Months ago today I began to create, and did not have all the moments required to complete each sparking from me. They still exist, but as I am no longer me of that day, they no longer suit my direction. They sit without review, they survive unsatisfied, and lack the train to drive them where they ought to go.

But even fragments of gems are beautiful

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.

 

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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.

Afraid to Look-

Which pixel should you look at?

I think this image speaks volumes about life. Death, at the fringe, is in the background, but not necessarily a darkness-light is part of it too; layers of colors give us the perception of shades, gradients make it cohesive.

What am I saying? Well if you’re crying, maybe you’re happy, and if you’re hurting maybe someone hugged you a little harder than you are used to. Dying, you have the opportunity to live, and if you’re happy all the time – one bad thing might put you out.

Don’t be afraid to look in the last place you want to be – the universe doesn’t ignore any door.


Previously this was posted without the image it was intended to be paired with*
Apologies, but it has been corrected now.

Afraid To Look

Which pixel should you look at?

I think this image speaks volumes about life. Death, at the fringe, is in the background, but not necessarily a darkness-light is part of it too; layers of colors give us the perception of shades, gradients make it cohesive.

What am I saying? Well if you’re crying, maybe you’re happy, and if you’re hurting maybe someone hugged you a little harder than you are used to. Dying, you have the opportunity to live, and if you’re happy all the time – one bad thing might put you out.

Don’t be afraid to look in the last place you want to be – the universe doesn’t ignore any door.