when we’re live

I guess
it is toughest
to write when I’m doing nothing.

Because what lives once
in passion
is never the same

as the next moment.
And I’d rather not write you
as a memory.

Internal Flight

perhaps song inside me will be played out
it will come,
when it comes.
all
of me is right
here.
how can I help?
it is a forest
in focus,
how some standing branches
pass by the other
as you move by,
closer they go
and spread and change
only when you’re walking
past.
Perhaps my song sings out
when nobody is looking
now, until we remember it-
Oh, that was -you!-
and whatever encompasses my wrists
does not matter
because you can’t hear those
after you’ve walked past
and I’m sitting below some green canopy
of rustling mind.

golden vibe
puts money to rest
I am the sunflower,
and you the stem.
Then I am the soil
and you the thin roots
and then I am a glimmering talon
and you the feathers
all in blue-

here we are
walking past another sitting song,
voices
arch out and in and directionlessly smooth
dipping only with elasticity, saying
you are the sunflower
and I the stem,
you the soil,
and I the roots
thin and tendrilously smooth
you the talons and glimmering eye
and I the feathers
tearing at an unmeshable blue.
taddle, paddle
ear, here,

‘ere
wakes the toes of giant
buried ‘neath a sloping mountain
that must never be moved
you sing in warning
knowing all too well
it will
when it will
at exactly the right
corner of time.
Pluck, pluck
the petals of your mind
gilded only to your eyelashes’ content

Swim.
this is your song
as much as it is mine
and you know how it goes
as much as I know
how to follow
putting things
from the left
behind and
over to the right
and then nowhere at all,
our song is a cloud
on a mountain
and I let you wail
let you wail
let you wail
because it comforts us all
to know perfection is
imperfect.

and if we found it
it would be empty.
it would be a great chest
covered in the dryest blackest
dust
and when cleared would reveal a
long broken lock
that perhaps had never been
shut
perhaps had never
meant to be filled.

What have you found to love?
past fingernails?
past split ends?
I rely,
I decay,
I declare
contradictions
so

respect.
Life will find you
in your happiness-most
moments.
that’s all I can
declare.

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Break through, she said.
I’m waiting for the break through.
Third story light hums like the tides
I’m a warped ceiling, see,
the incamdescents are stuck shiny
in plastic waves or else
I’d answer to the bookshelves
again above my head. I’m carpeted, too
I just don’t know it yet
until I shut my eyes in the dark.

What a pitiful color
manufactured. beige, off-white, tan
It’s the color of indulgent boredom
feigning intetest in all the unexplored
eyelids.
It’s like closing a book after chapter 1.
Or maybe before that.
you know the story ends
except for crutch of surprise
you’re out of this place
again.
I’m waiting for the break through.
I’m waiting for the break through.
I’m waiting for the moon
and the clean morning,
Hiding from what they say again.

But why
Again and again and now
we practice pleasing the sun?
It’s alright, as long as
you think like that I’m waiting
for the break
through.

After all, the grass is always
greener in the day.

nothing?

Do not stop me
I’m
writing words that
make no sense
and this is the mood I’m in
Hey, Self
Yes?
What are you going to do
about yourself?

Nothing.
Nothing?
Yes. I mean
I will continue to live
this life
the way you continue
to walk.
The sun is bright
and golden,
breathing light in the corner
of my eyes
and accentuating curves
in the quadrangle grass.

When did the branches
become so bare?
You watched them
but the last fell
when sanity dropped
and you were worried
about the trouble.
I saw a shirt today
it said
“you thought the world was ending.
you’re wrong.
We’re just taking over.”

Stop the fight,
I’m getting out
I’ll see you on the field
ready for the challenge
but not for blood,
no, a human fight,
tongues and brains
but not cannibals,
no, a human fight
they were right
you’re zombies
and diction is lost on us

What is a man
if he fears the pen?
I ask you,
What is a man
if he draws at a word?

Yes, I understand
it tingles beneath my skin
and what will I do?

this.
I will do this.
Entangled in words
I have not spoken,
I am a man who
wishes to hold the pen
to understand letters
to eat words and
be words and
breathe them and bleed them
and leave them in the snow
where a wandering bloke
will find them and change
the world

type

All you need to do
is let your fingers fly
around like little bats
and you’ll weave life
out of letter squares
or
you have the option
to experience living
for the first time
over and over again
like the light of morning
streaming through you

rain soaked window

the light coming from the rain soaked window
was soft
as the patting on the frame
the old metal frame angling only glass
and bits of water
that keep falling
falling to the window
so full of open air
welcomed slow rivers
down its heart
just the same
as the trees
slowly losing color
from the ridges
and gently rocking in bowing wind
rain, rain
and wavy window
sparkles in the palm of the room
wish on peace
pass by here
transparent and ignited
in the soft light
of a soft day

hmmm

I will miss this softened breeze
embracing through this broken screen
and when the clouds spread thin as ice
a memory’s promise should suffice

I remember just who I was

Watching the road bounce up and down before me with the glazed morning sky unfolding, I let everything be what it wants. From the side I see everybody in their back to school rush. I remember just how that felt.
I was the smell of the inside of a new lunchbox, nicely hung uniforms and waiting at the bus stop, I was timid, blue, frightened of the new teacher, scared into silence, maybe I’d disappear. I was that top button always buttoned, hot recess sun and plastic chairs, spelling books and flashcards. I was jumpers, skorts, shorts and stressed parents, new beginnings and the start of a long year. I was a migrant, a pair of eyes without a mouth, a body for granted, thinking about my cat at home, I was applesauce and turkey rolls, macaroni and cheese, new black shoes, button downs, and wishing for the window seats. I was the face in the window of the school bus, ordinary time, the rut of a routine, smiling face, empty heart and dirty fingernails. I was a little backpack with just one book, a note, a name, and a number, I was had to pee, a coin in a wishing well, and wondering about my sister.

because I wanted to write something

A lot of people tell me

whether they realize it or not

that they are not truly happy.

Well, I’ll tell you what I have learned about it

from what I have read, experienced, pursued,

I can tell you that

happiness, joy, elation

are something you create

your feelings come from inside of you

they are made out yourself

they are the fabric of your thoughts

when you think something makes you happy

chances are

you are happy

in that moment

so to be happy past this moment

it will not be

what you buy

or what you achieve

that will keep you happy for life

no

you have the choice to be happy

instead you could choose to brood

or could choose to hate yourself.

but this leads to anger and definitely not happiness.

So how do you become spontaneously happy?

Well, first of all

know yourself.

this is nothing more than

knowing you are human

nothing more

nothing less.

a link to the mysterious

in your body.

You are unique

because you are not anybody else

beside you

That way you can

second,

Accept yourself.

This is an important part of being happy

when you accept who you are

both inside and out

physical and not physical

seen and unseen

you can trust yourself

you will respond the way you are

you will have control over your mind

because you are in sync with it

and that is third

being in control

or rather,

being your mind

the way you were meant to be

and on top of your feelings

this will have strange side effects

like accepting other people

being generous and

feeling better overall

maybe even lower stress a bit

now that you are this way

it is easier to see through yourself

and reaching out to people becomes much more successful

because

while finding happiness for yourself

is wonderful

there are entire communities

that can use people like you

unafraid to be simply happy

and you

can never love too many people

…watching my smile float by…

so unemotional

so still

in my soul

that nothing needs to come out

right now

so I’ll put this strange peace into words

the peace I kept covering over

this entire time

the non-flickering flame

still burning

in the summer heat

in the summer routine

of sunset laziness

and quiet circles in my brain

while the dragonflies finally come out

those little dinosaurs

flitting around my toes and fingers

playing in the greenest grass

a basic and free endeavor

content with

watching my smile float by

in what I see