A Pool of Emptiness

Drawing lines in sand  

                                   no one can see
Ants crawl over foot scrawled demarcation

Bluster and wind
Hollow rhetoric

Nothing more than 
                               a chocolate rabbit
waiting 

              for a bite or heat
t
o collapse

living dust

beauty can't last forever
don't deny time it's victory

into the arms of death
into the passing 
of everything

we are living dust

No Escape

violent heart beating
lungs gulping air 
feet running 
won't stop now
running until 
tendons snap
until bones break
this violence
this violence
will find you

Soft Glow

I move from one screen to another as though

this were the most natural thing

for me to do.

I feel ill and fatigued.

I feel restless and hopeless.

Poles within me shift on floes

of melting polar ice.

Settlements at the edges of my continents

are drowning in the waters

creeping over the land.

Within me

climate change is real.

Glowing bright

the screen feels nothing

at my presence

and I return

the feeling

in kind.

Recast

Cast me into the fire

              let my flesh melt

                        reduce me to base simplicity


Pour me into a new mold

              let me cool and harden

                        a new form  a new life


Life after death

             no   simply life and life

                                             and more life

On the Morning of Year Thirty-Three

The music plays beneath the quietness of a still morning
In the room next to mine
                                        my niece sleeps

I listen for the sounds of a mewling kitten

                                                                  knowing she will wake-

being mindful of such things


Until then

                I fill the page


                                      until it has eaten it's share


until

         I have nothing left

to feed it

No Dreams

I do not dream so
I do not live
I die 
more and more
with little to 
no effort
I do not dream
I do not wake
or have I been
wide eyed
all along

To Be Determined

Will I fight 
                  or capitulate easily
when Death
comes for me

I cannot know
I can  only guess

I would fight
     or so I think

Possibility being what
it is
      I drown
swallowing

that which 

 I cannot resist

Angling For The Heimlich

Nothing to say
with no tongue to say it

Words on the white page

I choke

on the silence

           between us

Lack / ing

Tangents of thought
compressed or
built upon 
like foundations 
for 
     architectural achievement

Consonants / Consonance

Syllables / Syllabic

Expression broken into



                 essential components



Meaning found / inferred

Language_____________


             so pitiful


             so lacking


in expression

or

an expression

of my 

         lack of 

imagination 

An Overflowing Heart / An Empty Bottle

Another late night
The bottle sits
               
                       empty

on the floor

The tumbler on my desk
emptied of life

as my blood heats my flesh

a bead of sweat

tr
  ickles
           down
                     my
            spine


Music
fills my ears

I close my eyes -

dream

          of better days

The wilted rose has long been dead
but how much much can it be said
that it lived if it never even had a
chance to backpack across Europe
in its youth?

Must the wind always bring change?
Does it ever tire of it's task?

Abolish God
Abolish the Government
Abolish anything that keeps us apart

If you live long enough
you'll watch the gods die.

Poles

I am sane and you are angry

or is it

I am angry and you are sane

or could it be

We are both alternating

in the degrees of

our anger and sanity

Is it not even more likely

that we are both

invisibly damaged in places

we are hardly aware of

but are blatantly

apparent to everyone else

Yes

that must be it

that must be something

close to the truth

Keepers

We act as though our feet are embedded in hardened concrete.
Is this a plausible excuse for inaction on the sins of our brothers?
Did not the bible command us to be their keepers?

Watch the news on your tv, read the reports on your phone,
it seems to be that we are caught reliving the same sense
of outrage day after day, fatiguing our hearts and minds.

Outside my window I can see the clouds effortlessly hanging
on the blue December sky. Somewhere beyond my sight
there is violence, blood, and tears, tearing into the day.

We will say 'Never Again', and yet, again always
comes back around.

Don't blame beauty for anything.
What did Beauty ever do to you?
Did Beauty lead you on?
Your expectations are your own.
Beauty isn't biased, it just is.

Say A Prayer

Say a prayer for me because I struggle with myself.
Say a prayer for yourself because you too struggle.
Say a prayer for your neighbor because it's been hard
and her job may not be there tomorrow.
Say a prayer for your co-worker because
their brother is dying.
Say a prayer quietly.
Say a wordless prayer in your mind.
Say a prayer for everyone.
Say a prayer for no one.
Say a prayer if you carry the faith.
Say a prayer if you are faithless.
Say a prayer because it is the secret hope
that our hearts carry.
Say a prayer because there is always
something to be prayed for.
Say a prayer because life
is an unceasing place of hardship and joy.
Say a prayer because you live.
Say a prayer because you are dying.
Say a prayer because you will one day
be among the dead.
Say a prayer and expect nothing.
Say a prayer because it's not what you would do.
Say a prayer because someone is listening.
Say a prayer because that someone is you.
Say a prayer because you'll ask a God
you don't believe in to be kind and merciful
to someone you love.
Say a prayer because you will know loss
and curse the idea of any kind of creator.
Say a prayer because you create
the world you wish to see.
Say a prayer for your siblings
and the ways you do not know each other.
Say a prayer because our infirmities
can only grow from here.
Say a prayer for peace.
Say a prayer that perhaps we will act
against the tide of history.
Say a prayer for our city, our state,
our country, our world.
Say a prayer because we are all we have
and this is the only home we'll know.

Why must our contentment 
be measured against
what we do not yet possess?

I dwell in the possibilities of my heart 
and yours

I cannot know
the current of your desire

though

I hope that our streams
may cross

Do streams cross
and empty into the salty sea

or do they run parallel 
like lines destined

to never intersect

There is no silence
merely an absence of sound

fingers of winter
a chill running through my neck
this land barren white

From the ashes of myself

I arise

This morning light

How many more will I see?

Ignorance is no longer enough of a reason to keep an ill-informed opinion silent.

Fear is a predator lurking within us all.

For Now

I woke up and realized
everything is not as it should be.

I asked myself "When have things
been as they should?"

Perhaps the warm pancakes
at the diner a city over,

but that doesn't really count.

Everything could be
as it is meant to be, though,

our hearts may feel otherwise.

Memory is a reincarnation of the past. 

Known quantities in the unknown universe.

We could have had something more

but we did nothing

and that was that.

To define something is 
                      to
contain it,
                      to
diminish it.

Is not every age beautiful?

Don't let the snakes back into your heart

Love is crazy and so am I
I think we'll be good for each other

Invisible History

Unseen and unremarked upon
most matters of importance
pass with little to no recognition.
The ends of relationships,
moves across the country,
a new lover, the realization
of the truly finite nature
of a human life time,
and other events so common
as to hardly be seen
as anything but mundane.
This is where most of life
is spent, where we dream
and scheme for betterment,
and hope of even the smallest
kind. This life is unremarkable
except that it belongs to me.
Your life is unremarkable
except that it belongs to you.
This is no grand statement
of intent or purpose, nor is it
a warning of any kind.
Finish this page. Look away.
Walk into the next room,
go down the hall, find the door
and go outside. You are ready.
Believe me.

If we are not in 
the process of changing
is it not safe to say
one has died?

What will you do with your fleeting beauty?

morning tides

recurring thoughts

                              waves upon sand

salinity rendering water unfit for drinking

vast expanse of tidal blue

                                         a canvas for 

imagination

this morning 

I cannot separate my thoughts

from water

                  what tide is welling within

when will it strike

the shore

the moon silently exerting herself

A life of dreaming is not a life wasted
as much as a multiple of lives lived.

When I forget myself 
I am at peace
When I am at peace
I am myself

Kiss me beneathe the tree 
under which I heard you sing.

Idle Moments

If we cannot let our minds wander idly

from time to time

what will become of our souls?

Souls are another discussion 

that would fill 

pages and pages of support and rebuttals.

Let it be said

that there is an intrinsic part of our being

that is beyond mere corporeal form. 

We must be free to wander and wonder

or we will die as inevitably

as a cut rose placed in a glass bottle. 

There is a dead rose next to me

with it's head bowed.

I can remember 

the fragrant smell

of it's smile.

We live only for one season.

Visualize

If I told you the grass is dying
what would you see?

If I said love has died
what scene would you imagine?

If I said I have been born again
what could you see in my heart?

If I look in the mirror
I see a man much like myself

one who appears lost
and found 

one who seems to understand
as much as he does not know

I was not wise in my youth
and as I grow gray
I wonder if I am growing
any wiser now.

Unremarkable

My birth was unremarkable
except for the fact I was born
with wings.
Perfectly formed, angelic
in every classical sense.
As I grew, they grew with me.
During adolescence
I gained enough strength
to be able to outstretch them
to their full expanse.
My parents were enthralled,
standing before me,
my wings in feathered white.
I could see tears
fall down the cheeks
of my Mother, my Father
was rapt in his attention.
I bowed my head
and my face flushed red
in embarrassment.
I arched my wings behind me
and let them flap forward
twice, not enough to gain
clearance from the Earth,
but enough to billow wind.
I thought of my childhood
and the embarrassment
of being found out
by other children,
inevitably leading
to showing my wings
to those who could
see, but not comprehend me.
I could no longer hide,
I had to show the world
my true self
even as I struggled
to understand myself.
Doctors were confounded
by me, almost as much
as I was. Theories were
posited, pictures published
in peer reviewed journals
theorizing on the necessary
musculature to make
the impossible possible.
I was always terrified
to attempt flight.
When my Father died
I grieved
and let sorrow fill me
until I was a well
overflowing
with the uncontainable tides.
My Mother cried into my chest
until she could no longer cry
and I held her until
I could no longer hold her.
When she submitted
to a grief filled slumber
I walked outside
to the tree where
my Father would push me
on the swing he made.
I sat until I could no longer sit
and stood beneathe
the beautiful white face
beaming upon me.
My wings stretched out
and grasped the wind.
I could feel them beating
and beating until
at last
the ground became
the world beneathe me
as I soared above it
as Icarus dreamed
but could not realize.
I kissed the moon
and came back home
to the grief
that was waiting.

Three Thoughts

I.
She is peaceful when she sleeps
I walk away
as quietly as my feet will allow
and let her dream

II.
the breeze swept through the leaves
and rain began to fall

III.
I bristle against my own inadequacies

Morning Greetings

The heavy chunk filled sounds of a jack
hammer
              pounding
                   side
                  walk
                   into
                   frag
                  ments

unrecognizable
as a thing that was once ordered

I hear the infant cry

She must be hungry

I am still sleepy

I get up anyhow

I can ignore the jack hammer

forever

but she must be attended to

and then

we'll both be happier

than we had before

The voice will emerge if the mind is opened.

season without end
patiently waiting for rain 
gray clouds gathering

There is no beauty in cleverness 
that does not enthrall

The End of Fecundity

Soil dried to dust 

Scattered by wind

Red handkerchief tied 
About your nose and mouth

Clouded air swirls like 
Dervishes around you

You walk towards the cabin

In the distance  

Barren arms of a tree

Skeletal roots
Drying out in the sun

Standing in the doorway

Watching emptiness
consume everything

Season of dust

Wake before the sun
You cry to fill simple needs
Warm milk quiets cries

My hands do not know
The master for whom they speak
Many living eyes

Nameless together
Bound by no human language
Speak without your tongue

What keeps you waiting
Don't plan on eternal life
Act eternal now

In passing moonlight
Memory is forgetful
Beautiful jade eyes

Everything has passed
Everything is passing still
Even stone erodes

The Clouds are the Mountains Above Us

Cold Tears, Warm Blood

If there is no fire
there are no ashes

If you want a revolution
light the fire
in your heart!

The city sleeps restlessly as I drive
through empty roads
across meandering miles. 
The fading night bites my skin
as I race for home
to beat the morning.

False Apparition 

Black Mass in the White Chapel

Small Town Morning

The bell tolls early
from the town square.
Standing outside
in the coolness
of morning
there is a cock
crowing from 
the neighbors house.
I breath in 
and let the air
of my ancestors
fill me. 
Soon everyone
will be awake
and the heat
of day will be
upon us all.

How strong is a stone
Water carves canyons in Earth
Accept the finite

Don't Live Forever

Die young.
Die old.
Die middle-aged.
You WILL die.
No amount of exercise
Or diet will save you.
Accept the inevitable.
Car crash,
Heart disease,
Cancer,
Shooting,
Stabbing,
The how doesn't matter.
Facts do not need consent.
Now.
NOW NOW NOW
Now is what matters
As yesterdays
Trail behind you
Like a tail growing
Without end.
Withered and spent,
Old and gray,
Young and vivacious
With a bold future ahead,
Neither matters.
One fact is certain.
Consciousness will cease,
Heart will no longer beat,
Lungs will exhale
A final tired breath.
Make your choices
And abide by them.
These words
Were written by
A living man
Who will one day
Cease to be,
Who may have been
Dead and buried
For many, many years.
It is coming
For me,
For you.
Do not fear.
Do you remember the world
before your birth?
Close your eyes tonight
and trust in uncertainty.

Moral Deadbeats

Are you someone I used to be?

Am I someone you used to know?

Question for a Philosopher

Can it be said that I am writing quickly
when in fact all I am doing
is typing 
and watching words appear
on a screen?

The withering of a flower 
is as natural as its blooming.

Elemental Kisses

If I were the wind
You would be the sea
Our kisses
Would make the waves
Lapping the shore
And the world 
Would know
How much
I love you.

On Love

It is not enough

for me to promise

you the world.

The Question

There is rhythm in your tongue
but I did not place it there.
I watch your lips in rapt attention
as if they were actors in a film.

I ask you

What language would you speak
if you wished to be forgotten?
You think for a moment
as your lips tremble.
Your eyes blink
and you have gone
so far away.

Midnight Choir

The city heats up my bones.
I sweat as I move through the night.
From the sidewalk I hear singing
through branches and leaves.
I walk towards the source
And find a choir singing beneath
lamp lit branches of a tree.
Listen. I listen, listen, listen,
until I become lost. 

I only feel good when you use me. 

Dripping with the heat of you.

No one deserved to have you
so why am I surprised you're gone?

Put your mouth on my mind
to shut me up again. 

My One Bit of Advice For My Infant Niece to Remember Me By

Never lose sight

of the good in yourself

or in others.

Didactic tomes of intent

All the lives I've led in my heart.

Fresh cut grass

          It's scent invades

my memory

Let's make the same mistakes again
To see if they hurt just as much. 

Moving forward together 
into the light of a new life. 

Pagan Sun

Let me press my lips against your hips

before the sunrise

waking to the sound of cries

sleep now little one

Peace In The Valley

The valley is filled with rustling leaves

I walk alone as in a foreign land

Listening to strange languages being sung

From high in the branches

My feet are mindful of their steps

And I cannot help feeling

There is an older order of things

Residing in me

A vestigial memory

Of a life I never lived

A memory written

into my blood

An ancient lesson refusing

to let itself be forgotten

Harbor Light

She lives in an apartment by the port.
Harbor light fills her room at night.
She's got no TV but she watches
all the faces as they go by.
She tells me to come over
but never answers the door.
She watches as I walk away.
She watches my face as I go.

On Happiness

Not everything you think will make you happy
will actually make it so. In fact, some of these
things may actually impede happiness. 

Life is a long drawn out process that forces us 
to be able to discern between the two.

A Question for Morning

The song of morning is one of 

renewal and birth

Have you ever wondered

what words are being sung

by the birds in the trees

outside your window?

Half Dream

Half awake when I saw you
Floating through the cobbled 
paths of my mind

There was no sound to your step
What words could be said
None were fit to be uttered

Watching you pass me by
Before you joined the horizon
You turned to look at me

Sedoka #1

rise to greet the sun
quiet hours in this new day
bare arm resting on covers

golden hair fields light
flicker of life in your eyes
lips taking the shape of words

summer flowers bloom
when will fall winds come to pass
ask the moon tonight

Amphora

The dream always leaves before I have time to remember it.
My mornings are a blur of cloudy thoughts and physical needs
to be taken care of. Why must waking be so time consuming?
I wish I could wake and be ready in an instant. I can't be too
cheery so early in the day. I have to work up to happiness.
Forcing feelings that are not there has never helped anyone.
During summer months I leave the windows in my room
open while I sleep. The coolness of the late nights calms me
as I listen to the sound of the world breathing slow. Sleeping
and waking, waking and sleeping, so much of life happens
between the two, though, we would be lessened without
our need for sleep and subconscious fantasy. It is warm this
day and I know the moon is in repose but when she is fully
ascended I will once more leave myself to be an open amphora.

File Away For Future Use

Sad Conversations with Happy People

wake and see
wake and breathe
wake and be in balance
and harmony

Non / Work

Do not tell me 
what does not work

Tell me what has 
despite all obstacles

Learning

If I were not broke
I would not know
what it is like to be whole.

When I am wounded
I recall what it is to be
free from pain.

When I regret a choice
I learn judgement.

Learning by opposite
effects

           can be the most
effective of all educators.

There is no shame in failure,
only in failing to acknowledge
what has ceased to work. 

Life Support

Still breathing

Don't call it living


Still moving

        and seeing

Still beating

        wounded metronome

                  keeping time

or trying to


Is that a fly

buzzing

in this still room

                   What a portent

to see


Still breathing

For now

              is long enough

Let's build a new life 
upon these broken bones. 

The Journey Begins in the Morning

I am awake because I slept for hours and hours
until my body could no longer tolerate
the restful sleep of a bed.

I woke up achey and uncertain
but certain that I was awake
because I had that at least.

I am awake and certain that
whatever is coming next
is on its way.

I will be on my way
soon enough and
I'll be where I

need to be
even sooner.

Song Without Words

Don't worry about words
There are none for this song.

Open your mouth,
move your tongue
and lips.

Those will always be
the right ones
at the right time.

Weight of a Sentence

The notebook is never empty

it only gives that impression.

Write something for me.

Tell me a truth

and I will tell you one.

Pulling at words

and thoughts

stretching them

until the sentence

is ready to fall a part

from the line and dro p

                                     off

the page

entirely.

You can only live the same dream for so long. 

In this well
are only ashes. 

Lucky in an indifferent world. 

I've got a frozen tongue in the freezer
that's got nothing to say. 

Nothing matters
Everything is worth saving

Life Feeds on Life

Something
Somewhere
Must die every day
For you to live

To contemplate the visage. 

The weighted wreck of expectation. 

Bubbles, Spheres, and Planes of Intersection. 

Daydreams float like seeds 
On the wind.

Which will fall to the soil
And seed the Earth?

Cut through the bullshit and find what matters most to you. 

I don't want to be the bad man I know I've been. 

To fall in love from a distance is the only folly. 

I want to be able to forgive myself. 

Broken Cymbal Symphony

We conquer our inadequacies or are consumed by them. 

Creative Cruelty

I'm just a shadow of myself.
I'm not the me I could have been.
I'm not the me I could still be. 

To be alive is to be in a state of perpetual fragility.

There is no growth without hardship and pain.

Even the faintest light 
can take us to where we need to be.

Stringing the Present

This desire must be fulfilled even if
only for a moment.

Pain and panic -
Thoughts of survival and triage.

What voice does your mind speak with?

My thoughts break up into digestible words
that fall short of actual intent.

The arm of the tree withers.
How much longer can it hold on?

Am I disappointed in my childhood
for not giving a more realistic expectation of life?

Coddled and safe -
I am weary of the change I need.

Your dreams are as beautiful
as I have known you to be. 

slow parade

A slow parade of discovery
with no drum major leading
the band. Music in and
out of time, rhythm
merely a suggestion.

Classifying Dreams

Classify my dreams as
likely, unlikely, 
never going to happen.

You'd be right as often
as you'd be wrong.

Things change so slow
that we forget 
what quick can look like.

I don't know your dreams
well enough to do 
the same for you.

I can guess and be as 
right as often as you were
about mine. 

Is it beautiful out there?

We have a drink
and listen to the sounds
of the neighborhood
in between brief
pauses in conversation

It has been a long day
and the only question left
to answer

How soon until we go
to sleep
so we can try this again?

Echo Park Summer

Haze of heat 
My body covers itself in sweat
The city seeps into the soles of my shoes
and I breathe it out

Walking the streets
choked full of youth on such
a summer day

I am as old as I have ever been

Nature has always made it easy 
for man to believe in gods.

La Virgen de Echo Park

I found her in an alley
painted on a dirty wall
with a light
shining upon her.
Her face was of divine
peace and compassion.
I parked my car in front of her-
perhaps - I thought -
that would keep it safe.
I am not religious
or even superstitious
but I was born on her feast day.
It could be mere coincidence
or not
but I acknowledge her
any time we encounter one another.
It couldn't hurt and
there's nothing to lose.

The proof is everywhere.

freewrite 8/6/15

Words are nothing thoughts are nothing and I
am nothing until I decide to be something when
I become something I will become someone
and when I become someone I will not be
forgotten by those who see and those who see
me will hold me in the closet of their thoughts
the door for it opening on occasion and that
occasion needs not be important or at length
merely a passing moment that serves as a
reminder of something and nothing that is what
we veer between something and nothing and
when we become something it is only because
we are on our way to being nothing again
this is no source for worry just an unceasing
continuum becoming is a process with no end
and no real beginning we can observe the rising
of the sun and its setting we can observe the
ascension of the moon and its descent we will
never see the end of their lives but they will
see the end of ours and continue their orbits
like nothing happened

The ground opened like a mouth

and swallowed me whole

I move in dank darkness

and speak and scream

for any way out

Give and forgive.

There is beauty in this world and I must run to it.

A sound as though 
the bowels of Heaven itself
were being ripped out.

Aging

My bones grow but have not broken.
My heart beats but has endured
enraptured irregularity.
My eyes can see but not without glass.
My hands grasp, hold, and caress,
but worry of aged frailty.
My memory expands as more
disappears into moth filled chambers
of experiences past.
My thoughts are incomplete
but desperate to find you.
They have.
They have.
They have.

If I were the new you.

A Mother is the beginning of your world

and for a time

is your whole world. 

The beginning of the universe was an act of hope before hope had ever existed. 

We would still be fools even if
we read all the books in the world. 

Why must I believe in anything
when there are no ideas
worth my time?

nature remembers
seasons are proof of order
ants in a straight line

I See

What does a beginning look like?
Does it look similar to an ending or
is it closer to what the middle looks like?
Is it distinguishable at all?
It's hard to say.
What brings on a beginning?
Does a beginning inevitably hasten
an ending?
What is it we're looking for?
What are we looking at?
My guesses are barely educated
they never made it past junior high.
I see, I see, I see...
there is sky and ocean waiting for me.

An Eraser That Can't Be Seen

I can't remember the first time I fell asleep.
I imagine it was shortly after my birth.
I remember falling asleep last night,
it came swiftly before it left
in the morning.

I can't remember the first time I went to the beach,
though, I imagine I was still quite young
as were my parents then. The waves must have
sounded similar to today. Why would
their language ever need to change?

I remember being a child and cutting myself
deeply on accident. I tried to cut a piece
of cheese with a knife but only cut deep
into my right pinky. Screaming, crying,
frantic - my blood smeared the countertop.

I remember my grandmother preparing the carcass
of a turkey she has just slaughtered for
our meal that day. I saw it's cavity emptied
of organs, hollowed, and offered to us
to sustain us for another day.

I remember being in my grandmother's house
long after she had died and finding
her bible covered in dust, yellowed,
marked and covered in aged brown paper.
I wished to take it but I left it behind.

I have forgotten more than I remember.

Even her beauty

was not enough

to save

her.

Rearview

One more day
One more night
Another week
Another year
What's the hurry 
Don't be in such a rush
What is there to see
in the rearview mirror?

Giving Up the Ghost

I had already lost everything
so I figured why not
give up the ghost as well
What difference would it make
to give up something
with no physical form
When the time came
I set it down gently
and walked away
I wonder how it's doing
but I haven't bothered calling
it's probably too upset
to take my calls anyway
I can only hope it can see
this was for the best
for the both of us

Weird Wolf

I often think of being young
and not being
anyone.

To Rest

Crying in my arms
I feel the strength of your small lungs

Cry cry cry
                  Little Darling
until you settle into calm

Close your eyes
I will hold you
until you are ready for your crib

to rest
to sleep
to dream

things I could not believe

where does the nest rest
in the branches of the tree
wings flutter nearby 

Glass Figurine

collecting dust on a cluttered counter
I sit and wait to be admired

Winding down the 4th

Summers burns slowly through my throat
and makes her way down my esophagus.

The birds are flitting restlessly through the
branches of the lemon tree by my window.

Fireworks sporadically puncture the peace
of the early evening air while corpulent

bodies ease into rest of a near comatose
variety. A shrill cry pierces the air as a

car horn honks nearby. The fragrance
of thousands of freshly spent bbq grills

scents the air like an army of funeral pyres
prepared to fight the encroaching darkness.

Is there anywhere to be still? Is there any
place we can go to be quiet in the midst

of so much life? If there is...how can we
get there and how soon can we be there?

I'll give you something to drink about.

I awoke to find a garden in my mind.

Do dreams paralyze
Watching the wandering sky
Learn Nature's wisdom

Destroying myself
One evening at a time
Rebuilding by day

I speak to the night
She asks if I am lonely
Your girl watches me

Anarchy by Numbers

Be careful with the words you read
and let live inside your mind.

On Change

The worlds changes because
it has to
              because
it does not know

any thing different

because 
              it will
                        die

if it cannot

How could so many years 
have passed since the last time 
your voice could sing?

Reaching for the light
outside my window
I stop my hand 

Rip me to shreds

Blood and flesh

Nothing left

Morning Meeting

The birds don't need a pot of coffee
for their morning meeting in the tree
outside my window. No one is getting

fired. The quarterly reports are
projecting sustained growth and the whole
company is expanding steadily.

Once the news of this is announced
there is a consensus of chirps
at their good fortune.

I've been listening in to their meetings,
watching them come and go in their
business casual plumage.

It's a good time to be a bird. I hear
some of them are looking for branches
in trees by beachside real estate.

carve words from my tongue

create new lines of meaning

the lark sings outside

selective vision

what is there for us to see

could we understand

you smile in your sleep

what does an infant dream of

no one remembers

the moon stares at us

gazing in admiration

our mouths are silent

I don't want to see your beauty fade 
and see you become an old waitress. 

Big heads, small minds.

Why worry about what you've done 
when you know what you did.

Let it happen

If my eyes will not close
I must close them
against their will
until the mind
catches wind 
and we reach
an understanding

What I Have Learned

We could not live without each other

but we learned how to. 

There is happiness to be found in this life

without those we love.

Our hearts have dulled to whatever pain

we once felt.

I can see your face and not think of our

separation but remember our closeness.

                                   

Even obsession fades in time.

Why do we desire beauty 
that is not ours to possess?

Loneliness is desire unfulfilled.

Temptation always provides 
a sound argument.

I steal the love I want

One moment at

A time.

Does the cage kill 

the soul

of the animal?

Until then, We fight

This life is trying to kill me,
One day I will let it.

Lurking Killer

Slipping in the shower

Landing on my back

I laugh and

Wonder how long

The shower has been

Planning this attack

Use

These words are useless
They know nothing of life
They are tools without lives of their own

Blunt instruments- 
That is what they are,
Exposing the strength of my thoughts

and the limits of what I currently am.
Perhaps, these words are more useful
than I had considered.

Consumption

When did we first learn to devour flesh?
How did we listen to the voice urging
us to take a life to sustain our own?
Has God feasted on flesh?
Is our nature cast in His image?
We consume life, in turn,
We are consumed by it.

The Impossible

We grow impatient with the inability of life
to astound us on demand.

Once astounded, we wish to experience 
the same delight, only to diminish it

with repetition. Some things can only 
happen once. Some of us never learn

that lesson. Some of us have, yet, 
we still expect the impossible. 

Ant

an ant wanders across the screen
defying me and gravity

I can not imagine the ability
to walk across a wall with ease

the ant has gone
walked off with casual disinterest

this record remains
of it's miraculous nature

Urgency

The knocking and ringing has been going on
for minutes. It's far too early in the morning to
do anything. I don't want to get up. The knocking
stops. My phone rings. I stare at it. Reluctantly,
I pick it up, wait for the dispersal of urgency.

Curves and Angles

I cannot remember most of my life
even though I lived it.

Memories have been relegated
to the dusty storage units

in the far corners of my mind.
Why must my mind have corners

when my mind resides in the
curved confines of my skull?

Perhaps memories bounce around
until they touch the appropriate lobe

when they are needed. I still can't
remember most of my life,

but up to now, that hasn't been
much of a problem.

Spring is fading fast
Summer's warmth is beckoning
Fall wanders nearby

On Language

Before I could speak
I had no use for language
Even now I don't

First Actions

Our first act in life is to cry,
Our second is to trust.
Our lives are continuations
Of both.

Change / Chance

The difference between 
change and chance
is slim at best.

On Creating

Feel free to stare at the emptiness as long as you need to.

You will turn away in frustration or gaze upon it in wonder

if there is something that needs to be said.

After the End

I walk down empty streets

looking for you and find only wind.

Afternoon sun burns my skin.

Nothing new in this dead land.

If I found you would you recognize me?

Gaunt face and weather worn skin,

aged remnants of the young man

I used to be.

Rays of light beam into my mind,

Irises constrict to a needlepoint,

Burning away a landscape 

as dead as my inner life.

Aching joints give and break.

I can feel the ants on my skin.

Such small feet pacing over me,

Mandibles tear into my flesh.

Waiting for sunset.

Waiting for sunset.

Nothing left.

Only this.

Learning at the Beach

If you wish to learn about yourself spend as much time 

as you can alone at the beach.

Do not take anything with you that will distract you

from your surroundings.

Do plan on listening to the subtleties of the waves as 

they come in.

Make sure to let the water touch your feet and splash

your clothes.

Do not set a time when you must leave. Let the moment

decide for you.

If possible, stay and watch the sunset. You will never

be disappointed. 

If a dead seal washes onto the shore, take a moment

to observe it's form.

Don't forget to take a sweater in the early evening.

Before you leave, turn around for a final look,

remember that moment forever.

You can't call God for tech support.
The number is disconnected.

Potential Song Lyric

If you called me by name
would I recognize your voice?
I don't know. I don't know.

Once Upon A Time

You were so small as to be completely helpless.
You were small enough to fit snugly in the arms of
your Mother and Father. They held you and were in awe
of your complete lack of ability. You were practically strangers
but they loved you more deeply than anyone else in their lives.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not yet speak, but that did not
stop your parents and family from deciphering each cry, gurgle,
and coo. You began to learn this tongue through the kindness of touch
and bodily warmth. You knew what love was before you knew the word.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you led a carefree and blameless life where
every need was anticipated and provided for. Your cries were a source
of concern before you had anything to be concerned about.

Once upon a time

You were so small as to be able to swim in your Mother's belly and
hear her heart beat while her blood pulsed through you.

Once upon a time

You were so small your hand could only wrap around one adult finger.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not walk, you couldn't even sit.
You were so small that accomplishing each was momentous.

Once upon a time

You were so small, words could not take flight from your tongue,
they merely sat on the runway while mind, throat, and tongue
learned to coordinate their efforts for a mutual good.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you did not know of oceans, sky, wind,
but when you grew to know them you grew to love the vastness
of the world as you stood on the beach while the wind shaped clouds
into abstract paintings hued in the pastels of a fading sun.

Once upon a time

You were so small that your body began to grow and find it's place
among people. You grew taller and wider, more confident
and amazed. You grew so much that you met another person
and together made someone new. When they were born
you remembered how small you had once been.

For my niece, Kristen

She's a fresh human being.

Blank slate. Pure. That is

Unbridled hope.

Kiss Me Like A Dreamer

Love is more than the sum of lips and spit,
of sweat and passion.

If I said to you, kiss me like a dreamer,

Would you understand?

Would anything have to be explained?

Could we hold an unspoken understanding
and build a world from there?

Dear Sunset

Must you be so predictable in your beauty?

Do you realize how common your 

incomparable pastels are to us

as darkness seeps into the sky?

Get out of your rut - 

surprise yourself, and us, sometime.

Feelings flicker through us 
like so many breathes of air.

Random Post

The Sky will speak through me
in gulps of breath

                            while Water
soaks my flesh and feeds my life.

__________

My kindness has been cruel to me.

__________

azucar

Sugar in my blood

Sweetness on my tongue

Will kill me in time

Spectator Without A Sport

Must we insist on peering through windows
others have forgotten to close?

Time and time again we look, if only
for a moment, as hearts and lives

unravel like a garment worn and loved
for too long. It's cold inside

and the breeze chills my skin. If you could
see me alone in my room

what would you make of me?
If I could see you alone tonight

with tears streaking your face
what conclusion could I draw?

Close the window before moonlight
touches your skin again.

Bookends

In the beginning...
                         
                             there was the word.

At the end...
   
                     there was nothing,

not even the word.

When nothing came to pass
there was no one to know
or comment on the complete
absence of anything.

It was as it had been long before
dawns of any kind existed.

In the stillness of the end
there was no sound,
only the faint possibility
of possibility .

Kindness and Happiness

Sell your kindness 
for a penny and never collect.

Is this happiness of choice 
or convenience?

Taking Root

If I do not keep walking
my feet will take root in the ground
my arms will become branches bearing fruit
and my leaves will rustle at the touch
of an evening breeze

Memory will drain from me
Soaking soil
the land and I become one

Nesting

Alone now but not as lonely as before
Separate paths running parallel
Streets that never intersect
Moments living in eternal bubbles

I never went away
I've always been here
when you've come back

Nesting in the safe tree
Outside my window
The bird cannot see me
staring at her

These incomplete thoughts
find temporary shelter
living here

Hold my hand as it were your heart.

Being Your Own God

Association

FOCUS on an image. FOCUS on a word.
Pick one. It doesn't matter what it is. Let's
say FRUIT. FRUIT. Have you had one
today? What color was it? How did it taste?
Did you choke on a seed or swallow it?
Be SPECIFIC. APPLE. It was an APPLE.
It was GREEN and a little SOUR and was
CRISP when I bit into it. This is FICTION.
There was no APPLE TODAY. What was
THERE? THERE was WORK. WORK
was WORK. It was harmless and mindless.
Where did my mind GO? It didn't GO any
where. It was merely HERE. HERE. What
place is HERE? It is my room on a Friday
night, ALONE. ALONE? Yes. I can hear
the WAVES and WIND only because I
recorded them a few days ago. I am in a
ROOM ALONE. I could not be further
from the WATER. WATER WATER
everywhere or so we would hope. THEY
say we are running out of WATER. We
are. We have been reckless. We PRETEND
everything is fine. We will grow thirsty
without any WATER. Running through
sprinklers will be a thing of the past to
children dressed only in their underwear
on hot summer DAYS. DAYS run away
from US. They disappear behind US as
if they never were but they were for we
must LIVE with the consequences of our
CHOICES. CHOICES are free to be made
though often we feel as though we have
none. Having no choice is a choice. FREE
WILL. Let's not get started on this. We
will be here all night and we need our rest.

Unchained Ephemera

My obligations are a bore
and I'm sure they don't think
that much of me.

I'll out last them
I'll out live them
or so I hope

______


Bending in the wind
the grass has no choice
but to relent
to the breathe of our world

______

I grow irritated and impatient
the older I get

This is no failing of the world
It is the same

Only I have changed

______

How can we speak of understanding
and compassion
when parents still turn against
their children

______

Believe God to be a reflection
of our aspirations

Know that we fail and succeed
in equal measure

______

Driving late at night
Eyes tire in endless darkness
Roosters lie in sleep

______

Parceling out my thoughts into
digestible morsels

Try not to spit them out please

______

On Thrift Stores

Thrift stores are the remnants of 
lives forever changed, whether by 
death, divorce, or any other of the 
mundane misfortunes that dot our lives.

RE: The Muse

When the Muse finds you 
you better be ready 
to take her out on a date.

Dirt

Rolling in the dirt
don't forget where you came from

Rolling in the dirt
don't forget where you're going to

Rolling in the dirt
messing up all my clothes
Mother is not around
She'll never have to know

Rolling in the dirt
when it rains the ground
turns to mud

Freewrite 4/21/15

This has to be an act of pure spontaneity or else
it loses value, meaning, but there was never any
intent to imbue it with such. These thoughts are
meant to move naturally as though they were
actors on a stage performing at the height of
naturalness.  I cannot persuade myself to act in
any manner but those I have already done. This
is a failing many of us carry. It is because  of this
the world largely continues as it does. Don't take
this to mean anything. Language? Cut your tongue
so you can claim to speak many languages when,
in fact, all you know are a handful of dialects.
Birds have begun to nest in the branches of the
lemon tree. I know this because I hear them most
mornings. I doubt they know or care that I can
hear them, I watch them come and go. They can
say the same for me. We are both free but which
of us are more free? Is that a question worth
answering? Free? Will? Will never comes by any
more. He moved away a long time ago. I have
stayed in place but I begin to question my judge
-ment. Speak of possibility as though it was a
person. Possibility would be the unusually happy
friend we all seem to know at some point. Their
mania is not so much a concern as much as when
they have been brought to the ground. Can you
ever pick them up? Are they too heavy for you?
I thought I saw the sun but it was merely a flash
light in the distance. I swore I heard the ocean
but it was only cars in the streets driving by.
Mary was always only as contrary as most of us
tend to be. No more, no less. How did she get
such a reputation for contrariness? My wings
are not broken but they have yet to learn to fly.
My heart never had to learn to maintain its beat.
My mind has worked from the start but I wonder
if it knows the secrets even I have forgotten?
It must. Why conjecture? The royal we? Royalty
is such a silly thing we have made. Are we not
all the children of some supposed god? How
could he pick a favorite line of blood? We have
been quite misinformed, and no doubt, will waste
no time in telling us upon our death. Death. It all
comes back to our lives, fleeting moments that
dull in the passage of time. Years become indistinct
as we move forward. What happened to my twenties?
I know but I forget. I don't wish to let my life pass
without effort. I am a coward but I wish to be brave.
Who said that? Probably everyone. If not said aloud
it has been thought many a time. Thought can be
an impetus towards action. In this way we are all
brave.

There is a particular wisdom
in understanding that 
we should not be happy
all of the time. 

A selfish hand and 

a hungry mouth

are not to be trusted.

Simply Enough

I woke up and I was alive
and that alone
was enough.

Everything else in this day
exists in the shadow
of that event.

Why must we define WANT

and NEED?

My imaginary life

and my real life

long to be together.

The Inner Lives of Books

What type of conversations do sentences have
among themselves when the pages of a book are closed?

Do they prefer to keep quiet as they are pressed face
to face against one another?

Are they like people? Do they find each other attractive
based on factors such as vocabulary and syllable count?

Do some sentences sneak out at night and cram themselves
into the pages of other books?

What kind of fiasco would it be for one of Thomas Pynchon's
sentences to invade the work of Raymond Carver?

It would be an incongruency for the ages.
Is a book a god and each chapter a parent

to the sentences within it's reach?
I do not know. I should open one of my books

and ask it. It would be reluctant to speak
and no doubt there would sentences in the back pages

squirming under inquisition, wondering how I
found out of all these shenanigans.

I will stop wondering as I begin to fall asleep
and hope the lines find their way into my dreams.

If you are ready to listen 
I am ready to speak.

I Remembered Her Tonight

I filled a notebook with writing
because I was afraid of forgetting
what I was living,
what I was thinking.

When the notebook was filled
I set it on my desk
and piled books and papers
on it until it disappeared
from sight.

I never considered how it felt
to be so loved
and needed
then cast aside
when my use for it had passed.

I remembered her tonight
and pulled her out from the mess.

I have to yet to open her pages
but they are filled
and ready

to tell me all I have forgotten
and what I have yet to do.

Is the wind one voice 
speaking in many different tongues?

Hardhat Area

I am building without plans

I am building without materials

I am building without a crew

I am building with pure intent

I am building with passion

I am building with wind 

I am building with measured paces

I am building without sight

I am building nothing from everything

I am building a perfect image of life

I am building upon a cornerstone of love

I am building on the wreck of my life

I am building upon what has been laid

I am building on sandstone

I am building with salt

I am building with memory

I am building a new Rome

I am building future ruins

I am building a memorial to our kind

I am building nothing immortal

I am building what will outlast me

I am building daily

I am building in my sleep

I am building with bricks

I am building by moonlight

I am building and

         I see you are building too

Fat Head

My brain has grown fat
from all the books

I have fed it. It desires
to be more corpulent

and I will not deny
that for which it hungers.

It is morning

Open the blinds

Let the light in

Dear Friend

How quickly life can tear at our flesh
and undo the thin threads
that bind us.

Stand by my side
if I lay ill.

I will stay by your side
without you uttering a word.

Everything will be taken
in time but

I will fight until
my eyes grow too tired

to take in the fading sun.

An Answer. A Truth.

She was crying in the bathroom and there
was nothing I could do. I stood in the hall
and listened. After some time it grew quiet.
I was sitting on the floor with my back against
the door. I felt tired. I felt old. How long
were we destined to do this? How much failure
and heartbreak are we meant to take in one life?
There is an answer to that last question. Tell me
nothing. I don't want to know.

Consent

Did your day pass without notice?
Did work bury your mind
under a rainfall of urgent matters
and routine procedure?
As you sat in your car
and readied yourself
for the drive home
did you roll down the windows
so you could listen to the hum
of idling engines?
Are you staring at another
screen right now
or cradling pulped trees
in your hands?
I wonder about you.
Are you ok?
Is this fine?
Can you remember
when all of us
agreed to this?