Untitled 6

11 Jul

Turning off your mind

Autopilot flights

Telling northern lights

Beauty of the lack of sight.

And every five

We fight the mind.

We idolize

This idle time.

But now how will

We work this dough?

Like sturdy Rearden

Or soft Thoreau?

This water scene is seeming keen.

Sunset boughs and pinkened dust.

Abandon warehouse caked with dust.

A dozen metaphors washed upon the softly lapping shore.

But these trees have dependencies.

Conflictions arise.

Migrations arose.

Waist deep in the waterfalls

And spirals we chose.

Bauble

10 Jul

Every day

plucking at

golden thread.

Delicate.

Subtle line

from my head.

Life a twine.

Permenant.

One bad month,

a no good season

gives my nails

every reason.

Picking string

a habit now.

As much so

as breathing out.

Tracing each

glass fine line.

Immaculate.

Serpentine.

And I guess

this time next year

a full white beard

from ear to ear.

All that’s left

is memories

which we take

lives to weave.

Untitled 4

9 Jul

Scrawl

down what you need

you come up short

nameless.

Crawl

on your knees

fingers flow in

darkness.

I saw

a photograph

where I possessed

kindness

I saw

within my hands

a certain knot

timeless.

Untitled 3

3 Jul

And I’m laying in bed

But instead

I could be some drunk fisherman

Screaming the same shit at the ocean

That I did when I was a kid.

And in that wake

I take.

I could risk it all

Without much consequence, no pins

To pick and thread.

You told me everyone you know will die in your bed.

Funeral forgotten as every ghost erupts from your head.

All my friends have got a different dream

Well mine are taffy pulled in diaries.

And I’m living in my head

It said.

I’m the same dumb shit that danced on the sand

Mask donned beneath the celestial teeth

Laughing that the stars don’t know what they see.

You told me every way you know to get at me.

The floor of the fruitstand all strewn with seeds.

All my friends have got another dream

Well mine obey respectfully.

Untitled 2

29 Jun

Reading tales about the dead

Why would they care about the legacy they left?

Do across the void we carry caring gifts?

Surely love is lost after the veil lifts.

In awe the way the kinder ones persist

Projecting love through the grey mist.

The others get forgotten though.

Forgotten lives of the so-so.

The cloudy bits I left for free.

When you go and take your memory

Leaving words to some bored entity.

A whisper ripe with ambiguity.

Will all the love and hope I leave

Touch my children’s children’s children’s sleeve?

Will I give storied forests or will I give scribbled leaves

Based on my disinterest in my own family tree?

When I fail and die

Where will my values lie?

I always felt my life was mine.

Privy only to the mind that sits behind the eyes.

To be better than us who came before

Is my borrowed motto at the core.

Maybe with a little swirl

Of “not everyone will change the world.”

Untitled 1

29 Jun

And in this cold desert I love.

And if I lived on,

When this cowboy moon shone,

I’ll dip my toes in cadence flows.

Or if in that blue moon I shouted

of a glass beach and tap shoes,

Oh, I’d shout words that movies use.

I’d rally all those goosebump crews.

And when you’re cold,

If I lock eyes

when fortune’s thin

I’ll dip my smiles around you.

Or in the spirit of the open books I flaunted,

in the harvest hall I’ll tear my shirt.

Buttons scatter in the dirt.

My words they shoot not coy not curt.

Oh if I spoke my mind not with a glance,

But with some interesting and badass dance.

Oh but when I speak at all,

I say, I say, I say it all.

Not ready

15 Dec

I’m sorry I sang in an angry tone.

Your eyes low, then rose.

You spoke your prose and ran.

Sister chasing brother in the snow.

 

I’m sorry I see me in you,

Our life’s mistakes ablaze,

Upon advice we make them anyways,

Biting off more than we can chew.

 

I hope you know I want what’s best

For your life and mine tied at the breast.

I hope I know what’s best for you.

I can’t have you in this floor I’ve fallen through.

Same pitfalls and floodgates,

Watch our traps amalgamate.

 

I’m sorry I love you,

The driving force in our parting ways.

That and my striving for improvement craze.

And dissecting how our shadows grew.