Sit With Your Embers

Those nights when you feel lonely,
Even with all the company
Pickn’ up these problems,
Pieces telling us we shouldn’t;
Don’t touch me I’m poison

But look at the choke on you
Constraints on you, restricted
But we still want to hit you,

Take it down to the floor boards
Dancing to feel alive,
Stayin’ distant because we’re afraid to die

We all know that it sets the fire
But the drugs don’t do it,
No, not when your mind has seen through it.

Fuck, you need to burn out. You’ve been smoking for way too long, and your fire ain’t rising. Conserve yourself, and wait till the forest is ready to be consumed.

“Sometimes you reach a point when you can’t feel anything at all, just a ringing in your ears. Until like Beethoven, you find yourself pounding the keys of your life just to feel anything at all, trying to make the ground thunder below your feet.”

Oh hush, shut it. These little jewels, these sparks fallen on you, leaving tiny holes in your clothes – these are perfect, right what you need. Plenty enough to bring you back up to speed. These are the real fires, this is where the magic gets started. I’ve seen more in them than people have realized in a forest blaze. Because the fire will end, but these are potential. These are the dangers coming, just begun. Give them to me, and I’ll breathe life into them.

Quotes for Quenching – 32

“Empathy matters not just because it makes you good, but because it is good for you. It has the power to heal broken relationships, erode our prejudices, expand our curiosity about strangers and make us rethink our ambitions. Ultimately empathy creates the human bonds that make life worth living.” — Roman Krznaric

But what about that lesson to take it all home with you? Yes you are going somewhere, and really with yourself is the first and last company. You have considered taking home something rather flush, really exquisite. Only is has been left at the door, nothing further considered. You always talk a strong game, and when the night comes to the marker – well you turn head. You leave the key in the lock, but you don’t dial in.

This matter is beyond importance. It is more than a concept to reach others by way of the soul. It is the only way you will share happiness, for this life, with yourself. Do you not find self eager to wake each new second with the kiss of joy? Then no more. We begin now.

Carry your hand here. Turn the wheel, and begin to accept it. How can you treat any part with contempt, when you treat so admirably the whole as perfection? You bond to the word of another, the voice of a sweet song, the embrace of another, a touch of serendipity. You have found something in every word, so now welcome it home. Ease the hand; and the eye with which you view the sacred.

I didn’t really expect to do empathy any justice,
indeed not with so few considered words,
but that doesn’t mean I can’t offer my hands.

My Last Words On You

A body moves in this darkness,
a wayfarer of sorts pedals feet.
Travel is one all minds will meet.

I should have filled the water for you before I left.
Not that you can’t, but I worry for your wrists.
I know how you love to play,
and cringe to think how it sometimes can be in pain.

And here I am quiet,
I look up and catch your smile as you sit on the toilet.
Gross – A word that not once came to mind;
Even without a rose colored lens;
Your caring color is the way I saw you

Your hair is down, so that means you’ll wash it now,
I always like to put my hands through it and remove the tangles.
How long did it take me to remember not to splash water off my shoulders and into your face? You say it’s fine, but I fear not learning from my mistakes

I didn’t get the chance to hang the painting back,
But that’s usually how leaving turns out in the end.
Selfish at times, but I think in ways I made it right.
How arrogant of me to pen that in here as a line.
My very last words to you, I know you’ll be just fine.
But if you’re feeling it, hearing from you would  be nice.

And did you ever talk about that shock you got living in your spine?
Yes you know you’re a magic entity, and it’s all familiar lines.
A taste you’ve had, blood you’ve sowed, your palms where sprouts begin to grow

When She’s Looking Up At Me?

What is it?

Hold out your palm, Barely anything held.
Now put two together, cupping the water,
And you or I can drink as if from a vessel.
Pull back your hand, and something is lost.
Life is like this – Alone one can make do;
But two acting as one can do much more.

I am confident that the things I am doing will lead to a high peak, or perilous tragedy

Did You Know You Could Regrow Lettuce

All you need is some water and a bit of effort.
It’s not too much to ask. And I will ask.
And when I do you’ll take a look.

You do so much to be good. It makes me afraid of what you’ve done;
what you’ve done that you feel you must wash yourself clean of
What you think you’ve done or lost, has a lot more power than it should

Looking at the remaining fraction most see an end. Some might see a base or foundation. With the right guidance, we can see a beginning. I had to be reminded of this too. Perspectives are all happening. And you choose to see just one, or look for the rest.

Draw closer now, and tell me what you see. Do you see a felled warrior? Perhaps the warrior is down; down on the knees gripping to get back on up. Just because the top has been cut, doesn’t mean the roots are done giving. The roots never stop giving. They try until the elements say it’s time to return home.

I The Unseen Chills

I feel it, and wonder has it yet perforated my entire soul.
A best is that, yours or mine, best.
I wish I could have been better

Sometimes you just want selfishness
to take the last bit of air from you
and while you turn blue,
it apologizes that this time it won’t share.

You’re The Sun In My Morning

Is there light? With the shade drawn you’d never know. And that isn’t a shot at your ability to apply the proper techniques while shading. I had to say it before you started analyzing far too deep into the trenches again. Sometimes people just dig holes, love, they dig holes not to bury anything, nothing to hide. They dig because it’s in their nature; Look how you dig.

Come to me for us,
Come to me for us,
Because if you don’t come,
Something has to let up

Wrists for a powerful stature. Weak wrists can’t hold anything. Tied up or let loose.
Your hands do all the speaking I need, and your wrists don’t let whisper slip. If I were any bit of the rage I’ve decomposed I’d have a few lashings, roared up and resulting in quivers. Sage and nothing else. You are very sage.

I’ve been really a ghost,
That’s not fair to the ghosts I’ve met
I’ve been less than present,
Ive been trying to escape,
You know me I care
But I feel the reveal,
The hidden sketches
The tightest chest
Breathing is all I can do
You’ve given me so much
I admit now I can’t hold it,
At this time I don’t have a reading

All your chalk should be smeared, what essence I’ve felt smearing chalk, washed together we are now our cleanest. And smoke, just enough smoke and ash to understand the danger of this talk. What is of greater importance; What has taken place, or the potential that still has to pour out? Rain washes it away, but we go where the rain goes and that’s a long cycle to be patient for.

Who cleans the rain? Well the Earth does, and we are in part that body of land and water.

Well Balanced Between the Two Poles – A Good Place to Lay

I know you’ve been looking. This is human nature, you are nature

I’m always getting mixed up and finding myself on the second floor – The first is where all the magic happened to get carried away; Before anyone registers it, we’ve already walked halfway up the stairs, and no names have been spoken. It’s a few heavy breaths as sweat travels down the bridge of your nose and splashes on her cheek. No one wants to be vulnerable, no one wants to show their whole hand, until everything is going over the edge and your running out of grip to pull – You know that feeling of being out of time? You look at the clock once or twice and admit, there is no more to run out the hourglass for this one. It’s okay to take time to break; Give it a rest, and when you are bottomless turn it over and have another go.

I’ll lay quiet, it’s always quiet – I do declare, a sacred grove;
In which to grow; a well intentioned spot to sow these seeds,
Of all my intelligences that have yet to bear fruits to reality
From dirt to lead, from lead to gold, from gold to flourishing forest.
There comes a time in every lull to give voice to break the silence.

You want to be the Willow, but today you must be the Oak – In time you will be the Redwood