Learning to see

I was sitting alone on the couch as I felt the drugs
begin to overtake my senses. The music on the stereo
began to overwhelm my ears. I closed my eyes and
listened. Beat by beat I began to drift off into the
world it was creating. My eyelids closed and I fell
inside myself. This world was alien but familiar
enough that I could recognize the contours of it at
the touch of my hands. I steadied my breathing to
center myself. Remember, I chose to come here.
I came here to see what I needed to see.

Color. I could touch color. The feel of purple was
so much smoother than touching black or dark blue.
Yellow and pink felt like the smoothest colors to
touch but blue and green felt the most comforting.

All the years of my youth and school came at me
suddenly into a blurred continuum. How quickly
I let the years pass me.

Love. Receiving it. Giving it. Learning that it
must be given freely. It can never be a forced
emotion. It must simply be.

Waves. What beach is this? When is this?
Looking from side to side I can find no end.
Just sand and waves stretching vast before me.
Walking does nothing to make the distance
lessen. The Sun seems fixed in it's brightness
overhead. I walk into the water and feel a sudden
cold that melts into a cool warmth. I make my toes
squeeze the sand. The wind picks up and begins
to muss my hair. I walk further in. The water now
comes up to my waist. I go farther. The water is
now at my neck. I let myself go under. I've never
swum in the ocean, I suddenly remember. I am
not scared. I am ok with this. I feel safe. I begin
to swim and plunge deeper into the water. Coral,
schools of fish, none pay me any attention. I'm no
longer breathing in air. How long has it been?
A minute? An hour? A year? I swim farther out.
a shipwreck comes into view. It feels ancient
but it cannot be more than a few decades old
by the looks of it. What does it matter?

A faint light seems to be coming from near the bow.
I swim closer and it only intensifies. It seems to be
coming from the bridge. Light fills the water. Warmth.
It feels warm. It feels as though it has been waiting
for me. Has it? There is a door into the bridge. I reach
for the doorknob. It is not stuck. It moves easily
beneath my fingers. I open the door and the light
explodes and overwhelms me. I close my eyes but it
doesn't matter. The light is there. Is my body dissolving
into the light? Warmth. Warmth. I relax. I begin to
submit. I inhale the ocean water but I can't taste the
salt. I look for my hands but I cannot see them.
I cannot see any part of my body. I have become
the light. I am no longer in the ship.

Millions of light years away I am fire incarnate.
Fixed in the heavens I send my light into the darkness.
I can feel a distant call.  A place that had once
been home. I am now home everywhere my light goes.
There are waves I can no longer see but I can still feel.

Can you hear me?
Close your eyes.
Close your eyes.

Dreaming Into Reality

Dreaming of morning
you soon awake

Waking and living
through the day

you day dream
and wonder of all

the possible paths
yet untaken

Concentrate on now
Create the life

you have longed for

Reality Not Myth

You wake up sober
because you haven't been drinking
and you begin to feel bad
for all the writers and artists
over time immemorial
who have fallen to the false
promise of drink
and built their myths
on the power
of this escapism
Fuck forever
Fuck immortality
Give me a good nights sleep
and feeling alive
at the hour of my waking
each day

You woke and said
it felt as though
this were still a dream

I pulled you close to me
and let you decide 
for yourself

Creation and Existence

Is your God still breathing 
Or is She still seething
With disappointment 
In her favorite creations?

Crucify your faith 
If it isn't strong enough
Live among the godless
If you've had enough

Imperfect world
Infinite being 
Free yourself
From expectation 

Imagined Reality

I'd crawl into your skull
But you're still alive
And I'm no ghoul
During the day

I dodged a bullet
But brained my head
Against that brick wall
The bruise is gone
I can still feel phantom pain
Or are my memories
Tearing apart old scars

Disconnection enabled
As only familiars can
It's fine to be this way
Out there alone
I'm drinking again
Are you home
Holding a book
Staring out
Your bedroom window?

fathomless dreams limited only by ambition and ability

selective vision

what is there for us to see

could we understand

William

I pulled up to the gas station by my house
when I saw a man about my age
start walking towards me
with a squeegee in his hand.

He looked at me with the sense of recognition
that takes a moment to load properly
in your mind. He said "Hermosa?"
I looked at his face and remembered.

Some time back I was walking back
from the Hermosa Beach pier at the end
of my lunch break. As I made it through
one of the side streets a young looking man

walked up to me and asked if I could let him
use my phone to make a quick call. I said yes.
When he was done he began to tell me of how
he moved to the area and was trying to find work.

He had no place to stay except for the hostel
he was at that night. He asked if there was any way
I could help him out with some money. I'm not sure
what compelled me about him or what he told me

but I opened my wallet and gave him all the money
I had- forty dollars- and wished him luck.

That night at the gas station I could see the struggle
in his hands, in the way he spoke so as to sound
most kind. Before I left he asked me
"You've never been homeless, have you?"

Springtime Armistice : 7 Chapters To A Better Everything

Chapter 1
Answering Questions No One Thought To Ask


Chapter 2
Imaginary Conversations With Real People


Chapter 3
A Life Without Shadows


Chapter 4
Noontime Ice In The Desert


Chapter 5
Every Apology Given, Forgotten


Chapter 6
Preaching Truth, Dismissing Falsehoods


Chapter 7
Walking With Braces and Crutches


Post-Script
Thanks and No Thanks

Afternoon Rest

You sleep so much 

you wonder if 


you have ever 


been awake.

Other Selves

Write about sleep before you go to bed

it will bring about an easier rest.


In your dreams keep silent,

watch with precise intent.


Some think dreams are entry points

to parallel lives we lead in other worlds.


Would our other selves recognize

their faces when we look in the mirror?


Twisting in sheets, tangled thoughts

flail like limbs.


We wake to our world

and always expect another.