yes, dear, i believe it's true.

i've been here before & i've seen the rain hitting these streets

& i know the sound of that voice & the echo of air.

not sure what to take away because i left with so much already.

does it want me to take more or something i missed the first & second time?

repetition is a frightening thing, as it tells me i'm thick in the head

& can't seem to catch the right train.

so i stand on the platform & watch em go by.

pacing back & forth, wondering what the hell i'm even doing here

but knowing, with a gnaw in my stomach, that i really have no where else to be.

i didn't even pack a bag.

don't need one where i was supposed to be going

so if i wind up lost in some other city, on some other schedule

in another unknown month & year, i guess i'll just have to go shopping for new things.

the tongue is a mighty...

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wordswordsit'sallinthewords...wordswordswordswords

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...& the beauty there in.

snakes don't know they're poisonous, they're just acting out of fear.

it's funny what straws become the one's to break the back of the camel.

always seems to be the thing you never thought would land

but hits with such force, you're destroyed before you know you were even effected.

then you're sitting there, unable to walk, realizing things

& justifying things you never thought your mind would even welcome, let alone entertain.

it's a shame the wind is so strong & winter is a horrible time to fall in love.

it's a shame people lie & lie about stupid things.

it's a shame it's those things that gut you with a knife they've never even held.

it's a shame i won't stick around to see what happens next...

not really.

& that, is a shame.

in the hearts of mEn.

we raise the flags at dawn

& burn the camp within the hour.

it smells of hot metal & cold blood.

some are crying, while others wish they could.

some are dying, while others wish they had.

i'm a killer, baby. a killer.

it's what i do.

you can come in through the window.

i wasn't aware i had one, but apparently

there are things i wasn't aware of.

sorry if the floor is cold, possibly damp.

it's where i live though & can be a lovely place

when it's not alone.

take off your shoes, we can dance or stare or shoot out the stars.

i'll stand on my head to watch you rise

because upside down you stand up so right.

what is your name?

i call you by title & close my eyes & recite history,

but what is your name?

i bought a new typing machine.

to record the conversations of our souls.

upon second thought though, i'm afraid that might only

weaken the thread & break the line planted in the air.

so no, i suppose i'll just use it to write letters

of the things we ought to say on the outside.

keep the inside, in our sides

& the fingers lose, free of death.

you shine in your sleep.

did you know that?

i watched you tonight, & you kept me awake

searching for the forgotten switch when all the while,

it was your face.

i don't mind.

it's petty to fret about lost sleep over such a miracle.

take care.

the window is always cracked, now that i know

where it is.

you're on your way somewhere & it's stunning to watch you go.

keep the rocks out of your bag.

weight like that will only make you crack...again.

don't forget to come back from time to time.

i want to hear the stories you are writing.

i found my voice in the woods,

cutting down trees for you to put in your fireplace.

i felt free for the first time in a long time

when i hung up the phone & didn't think twice.

if you could sit next to the old lady in my head,

knitting stockings, she'd tell you the stories of me.

the ones you need to hear.

synecdoche

he said, "you're perfect."

she said, "i'm a mess...but we fit."

they lay.

he wakes.

she is dead.

smoke inhalation.

end scene.

trains & planes will pass by.

passengers will wave at the blur, not really knowing

that i saw them & was waving back...

but i know.

from where i stand, there is no blur.

a very clear picture of your face & eyes & tears...

waving at what you don't even know is there.

so i run home & write you a letter.

telling you that i saw you, even though you couldn't see me,

& that i waved back at you & was sorry you were crying.

i'll never know if you received it.

never know why you were crying

or what you were waving at.

never know if it made you feel better that i saw you.

but that, that i will know...

i saw you.

& somehow, that is enough.

me-ME-Me.

there's an echo with the crickets tonight.

i am an ocean & you are a boat, lost on me.

i fear the effect of medicine.

it takes a hold of your heart & your hand

& moves you into places you have to convince yourself of.

kittens & cubs roaming in parking lots

late at night with kisses & words to spare.

you found me.

you found me there!!

hiding, drunk, slightly confused.

in 4 seconds you defeated me.

no, not me.

ME, the straw man.

& in that victory, you created Me.

a man called storm & a man called peace

are arm wrestling in a truck stop

in a city hardly known just outside the state line

i raise a glass & look on as the weather patterns change

& threaten our little home

it's a sick feeling really when you don't know the words

but say it anyway & know exactly how to look

a monster will crawl back in his hole for this

he will lose his name & his pride & his dark green, matted fur for this

& then the crows will come

circle the city & sleep on the high lines

looking down on the place where the fields were cleared

& metropolis rose like the devil with a handbag

the streets will slowly fill the with faces of the nameless

who's feet move in automation towards the places they don't even know they're going

i will move quietly among them, having lost all but my soul

a bright glowing neon "open for business" sign

& this then is how you will find me

"at some point, there has to be a dose of grace,

a dose of forgiveness...then the cure of forgetting can happen.

let go or it will always be there & you'll always be fighting it."

close your eyes

turn off your head & your ears & the world

sleep sweet dear child,

tomorrow is not today

& the bridge from here to there

is only long & dangerous in the waking life

hold my hand

it's strong & old & familiar

see a world where snow falls

& we might walk light enough to barely make out our foot prints

or fields of white flowers

where we can find the pride in each other again

if just to smile

just to laugh

just to forget

for one sleeping moment

dream again

so it seems.

i feel as though we are all extremely fragile beings.

broken & fragmented at some point or another,

holding the pieces of us in our bloody hands.

extremely volatile & searching for the one that will put it back together.

we cower at the touch of most anyone.

our nerves, torn & exposed, even the faultless wind stings & bites.

we build involuntary cages of rusty barbs to protect us,

but when we move they tear their guard a little deeper.

it's fruitless labor to keep ourselves "safe"

but we have no choice if we ever want to fly again.

we stagger through the snow & fight to keep our weary arms raised high above our heads.

it's the curse of being wounded.

all of us, stopping the bleeding & cutting new arteries.

i sat in the open & looked up at the sky.

it was dark & you were sleeping.

i lifted my hand to grab the stars but quickly realized

i couldn't reach & the best i could do was to keep them from falling.

for if they fell tonight, they would not know where to land.

i found the moon. 

waning & sleeping with the vinyl.

hot & sweaty i touched her hair & sang to her softly.

she was oblivious to my presence but i'd like to think she smelled me

in the morning. 

sometimes the incompleteness overwhelms me

broken thread trying so hard to reach

swimming hard for the surface in a pool of jello

fighting against someone that fell asleep two hours ago

kicking a steel door with a shattered ankle only to find if i break through

you already left for the day

...& i puke.

this existence doesn't make any sense.

life in photographs.

i forget what it felt like.

what the weather was doing those days.

the stories we were telling & all the things we had to say.

it's just a blank page now waiting to be filled

or burned or left alone or ignored or forgotten.

i've got a tale to tell that nobody's ever heard

& it will be the best one you've ever read. 

it's just a skeleton in the closet but the bones are all there

i just need your skin & muscle & teeth & hair.

it's so thick in here.

i cough & bleed & cough some more.

we float around like molecules of oxygen

or particles of light, not too quick to invade

not too quick to escape.

we shift from red to green to blue to black,

never really settling.

never really allowing ourselves to actually

figure out which one best fits.

and we will dine & dance & sleep & die & dance again.

what goes on will fit to time like a favorite t-shirt

but be removed & replayed in different forms & fashions.

we will wake up & wonder who we are & how we got here,

where to go & how to get there.

it's all up hill or down hill or maybe not on a hill at all?

i hurt your feelings & i'm sorry.

it's raining hearts in cleveland.

falling from the sky in unaligned patterns,

crashing & splashing on the streets & sidewalks.

who would have guessed it would fall here.

a tireless journey that weaved it's way through months & years.

two feet that carried the hurt of ghosts & long forgotten faces.

names & places that crept their rotten fingers back across my eyes.

washing away the dirt & oil baked into the asphalt of my neatly paved dreams.

the sun sleeps for a few hours & the moon takes it's place in the sky.

the stars lend their eyes to you & to me, as somewhere we are both counting them

in our lawn chairs & oversized lazy-boys.

fragments & broken words still desperately cling together to form a bridge.

a beaten path that would surely crumble under the weight of just one of us.

when will we build something suitable for human consumption?

when will we realize that what we can't see, eventually really does disappear?

drag on. away.

show that sparkles last.

maybe your the same without me.

without me. 

but with simple words & thoughts & ideas...

the muscles of the tongue & surges of the brain & heart

i am proficient.

& patient.

if we want rest & fortitude, walk & talk with me.

or we can search the maze furthermore with blindfolds

& broken flashlights.

either way, i'm sitting just ahead, around the corner against the wall...

having a sandwich & a spot of tea.

stopped a train in the rain

with my bare hands & a faulty bullet proof vest.

i eat glass & fire & sharks

& swallow hard, squeezing my eyes tight.

sometimes you just can't stop the flow.

the mixture of blood & salt 

runs down the wall, smeared together

by the remains of your face & nose.

but disfigured & wounded is how i will find you.

i'd go as far as dying if i knew i could keep it up after my heart stops beating

but a dead man fights no more.

so limp, crawl, struggle i will

because i believe in all of it. (see line 49)

& i believe in you & You.

"carry a torch into the darkest of places 

& suddenly you can see all you've been missing"

i met a man in town today.

he was old & rugged & had the streets he lived on

all over him.

i sat with him for a while & we smiled & shared some cigarettes.

conversation light about life & memories & war & brokenness.

love & losses & wins & trades.

out of town & in town, good food & dark alleys to watch out for. 

i took his picture & gave him a few bucks for holding so still.

as i turned to leave, he handed me a needle & thread & told me i was

gonna need it.

i was confused & he picked up on that from my face.

he slowly stood up & gently took my head in his hands

& proceeded to thread in a zigzag line from my top lip to my bottom & so on.

he cut the ends, tied it off & nodded with a smile.

i smiled back & realized the favor he had done me.

i gave him two more bucks & the rest of my smokes.

 

i saw the things you hid behind your eyes & teeth.

much like you saw mine.

we are one in the same 

& we can't deny to each other what we scream out loud.

you saw me & i saw you & it was beautiful.

have a hope, dear friend.

have a strength greater than you or i.

have a peace that soaks into your skin 

& embraces your fragile bones.

hold onto what you know & know it without doubt or fear.

you are beautiful & special & amazing in your own shoes.

eyes & ears will see & hear that.

hold on if you need to hold on.

let go if you need to let go.

you have the answer to that & no one else.

find it.

it's speaking to you.

& tell that couch to go to hell.

character assassination.

i've packed a bag & dropped my head.

put on a new shark skin suit & one foot in front of the other.

thy kingdom come, thy will be done

& folly will be your druther.

the spinning wheel of holocaust arms & words & spit

will get mindlessly out of control here.

i'm an action hero, doing my own stunts 

& secretly hoping i'll get injured so i can collect the compensation.

i've whittled my bloody, boned out fingers to the point of 

shameless & my heart needs a bath from all the smog it collects in the open air.

who cares?

i wouldn't be a man if i didn't dare a little.

i'd wash up in a rusty old basin somebody used to clean carcasses in.

i'm not dead meat.

hail a cab or take a train,

just make sure it's the roughest ride to get me there.

the long way around so i have plenty of time to shuffle & re-count.

i'm made of grit & steel & old baby doll heads.

the kinds of things that make a place cold or strong 

but hauntingly familiar & nostalgic.

i have no enemies, 

just cowards that are too scared to really feel the way the want about me.

got to go.

the lease is up, electric's been shut off for days 

& i haven't had a hot shower in months.

if you find me or cross a path i've been down, flash a grin

because i'll already be wearing one.

sometimes teeth & muscle are your only friend against it all.

just lay back our heads & stare at whatever came next.

the night would swallow us whole

& we'd run in & out of dreams, never making time to sleep.

playing with the dead & breaking bread for hours & hours & hours.

it was so simply decadent & yet we made a way to break it all apart.

something can't be together though if there aren't any pieces to build it with.

i collected all i could from the grass where we stood

but a few got away.

i stuffed them in my pocket hoping for a chance to search again,

the cradles & airwaves that passed us along the way.

everything is necessary, i used to disagree, 

but it's all a matter of perspective i suppose.

mine has changed drastically.

"& how long would it take me to walk across the united states all alone?

the west coast has been traumatized & i think i'm the only one still alive.

don't you know things aren't getting any better?"

"Catching the fruits of our labor
And holding our hearts in our hands
Waiting for you to sound a prayer in the form of an anchor
replied by holding you up in red skies bound by love."

  

this is all so foreign to me

the cars in the street

the sound of my feet on the radio

i can't even feel your skin

the blood rushing in

have i lost the will to win

am i fighting for yesterday

these are the trees

and the sticks and the bees

that float on and on and on inside my memory

take a train to the left

this all so direct

i hate everything said to the beat of the waterways

it's good to know that i'm so comfortable

that i'm all that is needed 

when i'm all that you need

like a reflection on glass

that's what you would say to me

this is what it feels like

welcome to the b-sides

now get away from me before we both die

i am the string around your finger

the thing you don't want to remember

but you tied the knot too tight

the turning point-4.twenty something.09

i was driving alone in the country.

middle of the night, no one around for days.

a deer jumped out in front of me & i swerved

off the road to avoid hitting it.

in the process of correcting, i over corrected 

and as my back tires hit the large difference in the edge of the road

& the side ground, it flipped & rolled to a stop on it's hood.

i emerged with a bleeding eyebrow & some cuts on my left arm.

slightly dazed, i immediately reached for my cell phone but found i had no service.

i looked to my left & my right & saw nothing in the form of darkness for miles.

i sat in the grass to shake off what had just happened 

& to figure out what i was going to do about it.

it dawned on me that i was on my own for this one.

have you ever tried to overturn a crashed car by yourself?

it's impossible. 

it's nearly impossible with 6 of yourselves.

i'm still sitting in the grass.

the night has never lifted & i haven't seen a single sign of life.

i try a few times every hour to push my car over, 

in hopes that if i do, it would actually drive me out of here.

really, it's just me heaving for ten minutes & then collapsing

against it's mangled frame.

i have a choice...

keep pushing towards an impossible happening

or walk away...

into the darkness.

into a place i've never been before.

into a place where all i can do is hope i'll find someone who can help me.

how to capture a woodland creature.

tie my shoes up tight.

it may look like i'm running fast

but actually i'm standing ever so still.

not going anywhere.

i found the password.

it's a word i can't even speak.

it's not a word at all.

it's a shiny object buried in a

tree stump in the woods.

when you find it, you can't let go

because you want it so bad

and your hand is stuck in the wood

and there you are,

frozen in a tree, holding a shiny object you can't really claim.

i am a raccoon. 

as long as we hold on to bitterness,

we'll always find something to be angry about.

joy brings me laughter & peace

even amongst the thunder & lighting.

i am forever grateful for your smile

& the way you light up the night

when darkness feels way too close.

you swim inside my rib cage

& make still, the quaking & shaking of my life.

you renew my steps & 

carve out new lines;

you go before me & behind me

& lead my mind.

i bend to your feet.

i bury my heart in the ground.

you raise it up & give me reason & sound.

i've seen you before & i know you.

i'll take what i can get,

just promise me it won't stay like this forever.

maybe i am silly.

i probably am.

i know i am.

but that means something to me.

means i can't help but be that way

because i know something greater & dearer.

you are lovely.

you.

in the ones i know & don't know.

in the ones i like & don't like.

in all the ones i love.

forgive me for this voice.

it may not be in tune or even sound like a melody

you want to listen to but it's my voice

& it's all that i've got.

until the ground shrinks around me & the skies

pull themselves up, up & away,

i'll stand on this mountain top

& sing & scream & talk & whisper.

forgive me if need be.

forget me if need be.

it doesn't really matter what either of us do

as long as we truly believe in the things that do matter.

& i do. 

from a friend.

Do not fear the ghosts in this house; they are the least of your worries.
Personally I find the noises they make reassuring,
The creaks and footsteps in the night,
their little tricks of hiding things, or moving them, I find 
endearing, not upsettling. It makes the place feel so much more like home.
Inhabited.
Apart from ghosts nothing lives here for long. No cats,
no mice, no flies, no dreams, no bats. Two days ago
I saw a butterfly,
a monarch I believe, which danced from room to room
and perched on walls and waited near to me.
There are no flowers in this empty place,
and, scared the butterfly would starve,
I forced a window wide,
cupped my two hands around her fluttering self,
feeling her wings kiss my palms so gentle,
and put her out, and watched her fly away.

I've little patience with the seasons here, but
your arrival eased this winter's chill.
Please, wander round. Explore it all you wish.
I've broken with tradition on some points. If there is
one locked room here, you'll never know. You'll not find
in the cellar's fireplace old bones or hair. You'll find no blood.
Regard:
just tools, a washing machine, a dryer, a water heater, and a chain of keys.
Nothing that can alarm you. Nothing dark.

I may be grim, perhaps, but only just grim
as any man who suffered such affairs. Misfortune,
carelessness or pain, what matters is the loss. You'll see
the heartbreak linger in my eyes, and dream
of making me forget what came before you walked
into the hallway of this house. Bringing a little summer
in your glance, and with your smile.

While you are here, of course, you will hear
the ghosts, always a room away,
and you may wake beside me in the night,
knowing that there's a space without a door
know that there's a place that's locked
but isn't there. Hearing
them scuffle, echo, thump and pound.

If you are wise you'll run into the night,
fluttering away into the cold
wearing perhaps the laciest of shifts.
The lane's hard flints
will cut your feet all bloody as your run,
so, if I wished, I could just follow you,
tasting the blood and oceans of your tears. 
I'll wait instead,
here in my private place, and soon I'll put a candle
in the window, love, to light your way back home.
The world flutters like insects. I think this
is how I shall remember you,
my head between the white swell of your breasts,
listening to the chambers of your heart.

-n. gaiman

i kick the dirt off my shoes

stupid, because they're just gonna collect more.

i hang up my coat & sit for a brief moment on the couch.

there's a fish swimming in my head

& i swear i've flushed him down the toilet several times before.

maybe he just likes the water up there.

i reach to turn on the tele only to notice your reflection sitting somewhere

just behind me.

i turn in a startled realization that you are actually here.

my first question to you is not how did you get into my kitchen,

but more like where have you been?

makes me laugh inside & the fish does a fancy little tail swoosh.

you stare at me in silence with a half cracked grin

& the look that's always in your eyes.

the "i wanna say something but don't have the ability to do so" look.

i, of course, already know this so i simply pour a drink for me

& hand it to you.

i put a record on, light a cigarette & turn again to face the reflection of you in the tv set.

perhaps, then we could be real with each other.

if i spent the afternoon recollecting & unpacking with a reflection,

maybe we could hold a conversation, or heaven forbid, find some common ground 

& have a laugh or two.

this reminds me, the fish is probably hungry, so i feed him.

i sit back down, clear my throat & then it dawns on me...

"hell, i don't even own a television."

inhale....exhale

i'm broken, hurt, torn & i won't apologize or accept one for it.

my heart reels in the joy of knowing the truth is in me &

will be affirmed day after day after day.

i will give & give & give because i was given to.

i will never again doubt for one second where i stand on this

or let anyone convince me otherwise.

this is between You & me.

& we know.

i will stand inside this fire.

i will jump down into the den

& surround myself with the flames

& stitch every puncture wound

because i'd die before it was you & not me.

you never asked me to come here 

& i can't help that i am,

but i'm damn glad i am.

i wouldn't be anywhere else.

i couldn't be anywhere else.

doubting thomas had to touch the wounds & see the side.

i'm bleeding from head to toe.

we will let one another down.

we will disappoint on a daily basis.

but knowing that through the teeth & the flames,

all i can do is see the glaring glory of your soul

& the beauty that indwells it

& have no other desire in my heart than to raise you higher & higher,

makes scars & skin grafts a trophy i couldn't wait to win.

i'll be a ghost & i'll float in & out of  your lines

re-healing every time

please forgive me everyday

for the things i could never say & now can say them too late

you'll never see the tears i cry

never see the fear i hide

belief is on my side & that's all i have

it's hard to not see your face on the street

amongst the people that i daily meet

if i can't find you, i'm at least looking

i couldn't imagine you dying or suddenly disappearing

this song will be the death of me

an endless, killing melody

a rain of vision & memory

take the cemetery walk away from me

or say you'll go with me

you'll never see this side of me

you'll never see this side of me

settle soul, at the bottom of the ocean

the whale & the giant squid can't harm you here

the darkness will hide your eyes from darkness

& the silence will drowned out your mind

feel the cold water surround you

the salt slowly soaking into your skin

a gentle swirl from a passerby

the fear can't touch this world you're in

hold my hand if only just for a moment

but know when you let go, it's still there

step away from the violence of a current

free yourself from the surface's strong air

bind a rock to the things you've carried with you

lay them down & don't turn around to see

settle soul, at the bottom of the ocean

find your peace below the briny deep

i buried invisible lines

that run a current right through you.

they're down deep so don't bother looking.

you won't feel a thing.

just walk through your life like nothing's changed.

& i'll walk through mine like everything has.

maybe one day when your standing in the rain

you'll feel what i've been saying.

the current can go on forever

so time is not of the essence.

it won't be obvious at first.

a slight raising of the hair on your arms or head,

but if you want it to, it will bring you to your knees.

wrap around your mind and re-set your heart beat.

it brings bodies back from the dead

& saves the souls of things we cast out in the river.

i would never hurt you so don't be afraid.

it only bites when you want it to.

be thou my provider

a face amongst the mist

be my arm & my desire

the flight i cannot miss

run ahead of me in color

be the fold & every crease

hold my eyes from any other

& these days will never cease

i can't sit still in my bed tonight.

there is a snake running through my veins that

is purple & smells like cotton candy.

i am overwhelmed right now with something

& i can't put my finger on it...

but trust me, i'm not complaining.

there's lightning in the sky & rain on my boots

& the water's running down the street.

i gave a man all my change & he changed all the man i gave.

i wish they'd invent the machine that dictates your thoughts

for you, as you think them.

it would make writing this book so much easier.

& cleaner.

my world is a comic book. you should come see it sometime.

more like a graphic novel...but that's a comic book to most.

i put on my fisherman coat & went out for a smoke.

the lights were beautiful & sang songs that smelled like your hair

& shined like your eyes.

i am the fountain of youth.

stop looking for it.

or did they already find it?...not too hep to the discoveries of the 

last century or two.

i painted with red tonight. just red.

i call it red.

& some fancy chemical or glorified water that expanded my open sky.

the birds sing & i grasp to claim the broken hallelujahs, 

exhaling with the smoke rings.

i got one or two.

put 'em in a frame, over my bed.

they're worth seeing once.

but then you just know & never need to be reminded of their features again.

there's cats in my closet & i'm allergic.

i'll be sneezing for days.

why would she leave her cats here?

she really does hate me.

i guess ignoring the flat tires & cut window screens as proof

is unavoidable now.

mockery is a crock.

those two words in the same sentence are like my wife & i.

poetic, just right, undeniable, not making a lot of sense.

me: what's a filter for anyway?

the man who's name i believe was called curtis: keeps the bad stuff out.

me: how do you know it's bad if you always filter it first?

curtis: you're over thinkin' this, bud.

me: hell, you're right. put two on there just to be safe.

the fleece is out.

the sun creeps in through a broken blind.

my feet are dirty from the kitchen to bedroom crossing.

the smell of eggs lingers in from the stove top.

my shirt is pressed, clean lines & nice new hair cut.

the heart is rendered for the day & free from yesterday.

the chalk outline of a man welcomes me to my car as i fumble with

my keys & two arms full of baggage.

i wink at the man in the window.

he knows & i know that today is today.

something the both of us have never seen before.

something we could never expect but have expectations for.

i sit in the warmth & silence before starting this thing

& pause for endurance.

an extra leg.

i pull back the curtains, take a deep breath, & go under.

it's beautiful down here.

free & alive, quiet & peaceful.

even as a child, i knew this was where i belonged.

never really could make since of that until now.

so here i am.

we wake up & shake off the residue of dreams.

clothe ourselves in comfort & apathy

& turn to face the day with empty chambers

& swordless sheaths.

we clamber & fumble through the days

with uncertainty & doubt.

we wonder why our toes are always so swollen.

then one day our enemy toys with us no more.

he takes our arms & our legs & our heads.

leaves us limbless & blind, to crawl helplessly 

back to our beds.

& we dream. 

i walk the dark street.

the one where all the lights have been shot out.

there's always a rain puddle or two.

the buildings that the sidewalks hold up never have a light on.

i'm not even sure anyone lives there.

all the parking meters have been be-headed.

surely, a car hasn't lined the curb in years.

the king's of it's alley arms walk on all fours,

& never look me in the eye or extend a word of conversation.

the wind seems to blow a little harder & more direct this time of night.

i walk the dark street,

& i love it.

not in a million years, but if you were to pass me on this street,

you'd see a smile on my face and hear the song that resonates between my ears

& somewhere just behind my eyes.

i get it.

it's my street.

& every night, just as i turn the corner to head home,

i'm exposed to the other streets.

loud & busy.

bright with light & distraction.

i approach my front door & every time, 

realize i'm not smiling anymore.

then i close the door behind me, slide to the floor, close my eyes,

& go back there.

ambling in the dark...

not afraid, but smiling.

the wanderer #3

his eyes bit into the back of his skull as they violently tried to recoil the first sight of the sun in months. realizing how long it had really been since he saw natural light suddenly made him take measure of all that he had become over the last half of a year. going into "the den", he was a scared, fresh-faced boy in his early twenties. not really knowing what life was all about & still desperately relying on the wings of his older brother. now, as he caught his image in the smeared reflection of a rotting city bus, he saw something completely foreign. a man stared back at him. a man he would never have expected to know in his previous life; but now, in the wake of all that had occurred, a man he had watched hatch from the green flesh of a frightened boy that had to start the world over way before he was intended to. he closed his eyes. if he could still cry, he would, but he knew that that part of him had been stripped away. he had cried when he realized he may have lost everything on the surface. he had cried when the two from New Sydney had left to look for water & never returned. he had cried when he stopped hearing the faint rhythm of civilization above him, and he cried when he woke & found his brother, hanging with his belt around his neck. that was the last time. the tears shut off after that.

we are broken down works of excellence.

covered in the dust of lying & deceiving years.

rusted through with selfishness & apathy.

a piece of junk that passer's by would discard at first glance.

He awaits the spark.

the inclination in our motherboards that seeks retribution.

the second that flint is fired, we come alive.

the dust and rust shake free

& revolutions begin a slow spin.

something that took years to mar & batter

becomes pristine again in the blink of an eye.

the spark, the inclination...starts in us.

i choose.

i wake up in the morning, & it crawls on top of me.

i'd shake it off if i could.

or leave it to warm me.

in the shower sometimes i scrub so hard i bleed,

but it doesn't go away.

it's my shadow that follows me through the day.

most of the time, it's my best friend & i'm so glad it's there.

other times, i scream at the top of my lungs

as to why it's there & what it wants from me.

it's a beast that i want to tame.

but it's a beast & beasts don't tame easy.

why am i here?

why now?

what the heck is going on?

i'd love so much to see you for the first time.

i believe our lives would overwhelm us.

our bloody knees will stick together.

we'll never wonder/wander again

& we'll never have a question in our minds.

the beast sleeps & whispers answers in his dreams.

this is why i'm here.

this is why it won't go away.

i believe.

i believe.

i believe.

rain & thunder will come.

wind will tear at the roof.

lightning will do it's best but i will stand.

this house has a hope.

far from the surface of man

& far from the reaches of the storm.

do your worst.

watch yourself.

be of sound mind.

look into the depths.

there's too much grey in everyone's eyes
the structure is flexing under it's weight
find your words, open your mouth
shoot an arrow into it's heart & free yourself
there's a thorn in my side & yours too
i don't really want stand around
& watch each other bleed to death

have heart
have faith
find your strength
open the gate

thoughts.

we live in the dungeons

& we walk through the mire.

we will never know what this looks like

because we chose to dwell.

i saw the quick flash of red&blue,

dropped my hands and confessed.

i am a machine,

built for one thing.

we dismantle the cage

& carry it with us.

turn around, open your eyes,

close your mouth, clear your head

we buried the truth

and forgot to draw a map.

i am the arsonist.

we are master builders

& love to marvel at our handy work.

sleep is a waking dream.

living proof.

we see what we want to see

we receive what we want to receive

and we think there's nothing wrong with not seeing it or receiving it

maybe there isn't?

but everything happens for a reason and i have to believe if we ignore that

reason, that someday, somewhere those things will present themselves in our lives

and we will ultimately have to see or receive them. 

 

thoughts.

april fool's day. ha. a holiday just for me.

the biggest one of them all.

"sometimes we can't help but wonder, what is God? who is God? where is God?

open your eyes. He's most likely standing in front of you, or beside you, or behind you.

open your ears. He's most likely whispering to you, or talking about you, or screaming

in your face.

open your heart. then you'll never have to wonder again."

love is a funny thing.

a great whale that trulls the vastest, unexplored ocean.

we catch glimpses of it's tale on moonlit nights, 

or it's hump as it surfaces to renew it's air supply.

it's very keen at not being found too easily

and often is best left undiscovered

but then there's the special occasion

when a lowly sailor treads too close.

the great whale rises up, half of it's body out of the water,

hovering over the man.

harpoon in hand, ready to fight for his life and take down the beast,

the sailor can only stare at the beauty of the thing and is frozen numb

as the monster crashes down atop of him, mouth agape.

then you find yourself in the place millions dream of.

the closest you could ever imagine getting to such a rare treasure.

you're in the belly of the whale...the heart of love. 

 

the hopes and dreams...

let's rough up the world together

go on an adventure that doesn't end

jump in puddles and play in the rain with our shirts off

take pictures of birds and skylines and paint our emotions out on canvas

sing songs of sadness and songs of joy while wiping each others tears

write stories of new and share tales of old

give heart to you and you to me

push little kids on swings and teach them how to swim

travel to places of no great significance and make them matter to us

grow old...

100%.

i am an alien

it must be what has everyone talking

i can't breathe.

i'm a dark cloud. i didn't mean to bring you down.

i'm sorry that my touch must cut.

that my eyes make you miss your flight.

i'm a dog chasing his own tail, not paying attention to the traffic i've circled into.

i need to empty the cage and clean out the feathers.

we build a house of cards so carefully and with so much pride in what it is

only to have a tiny wind blow it to the ground at our feet

i can't pick up the cards.

they won't even stick to my fingers.

i got caught in a thunderstorm and didn't know how to escape...

so i swallowed it and became the gale.

i am comfortable and that makes my stomach disown me daily.

to know that all i do is prove you farther and farther away from me hurts with no definition.

i am lost and in the dark and don't know my ass from my nose.

you are things i never knew you were.

and for you...

march on.

hope is a slippery stone but if you can grasp it, shove it deep into your pocket. 

fight for what is yours.

know that weariness will come and sleep's siren song will call out to you.

don't give up.

waves will crash your tiny boat and leave you flailing for a scull.

the light will come and go and come and go

but know that you have to keep moving.

these things i've learned.

there's two paths in every journey.

hopefully, you get to walk along the one that is constantly set in spring.

silly boat.

when i was a boy, i played like a boy
i had a boat with a string attached to it...you know, the classic toy boat
the wonders of this string were to allow the boat to drift out to sea but never be to far adrift that you could not simply draw it back in...as to prolong the life of the toy
when i was a boy, i played like a boy
i loved the notion of sailing freely on the waves...
not the idea of constantly being held in by a thin wire
one day, i cut the tie and i let my boat float
at first i was overjoyed by simply seeing my tiny toy boat bob along,
slowly making it's course farther and farther away from me, wave after wave
but my joy slowly turned to heartache as i realized this was the last voyage of me and my boat
my boat was now on it's own...just a boat and the sea
the tears ran down my cheeks as i watched it disappear on the horizon
tears of sadness and tears of joy met on my tiny round face
i loved the times my boat and i shared and was sad that they were over
and i also knew my boat was a boat and was born for that voyage...
born to go there without a string
when i was a boy, i played like a boy
i walked away from the beach that day alone and lacking the company of my toy
but deep inside i knew i had done the right thing, despite how i felt on the surface
i learned then, that sadness is often the doorway we have to walk through to see the glory of it all
knowing what's beyond the sadness is always greater than the sadness itself
like my boat...it was finally able to be just that which it was intended to be...a boat
and for all the sadness i've felt for losing that boat as i recall the story throughout my life,
i'm repaid ten times over with joy knowing it's doing what it was meant to do
because i cut the string

theater.

i don't think i know you anymore.

i thought i did and would fight endlessly to...

but revelations come and go

we see the curtain rise, watch the show, applaud the bow

...and then meet the actors in the hall

and it's always a little sad to me when  you have to walk away realizing

who you just met isn't who you fell in love with for the past few hours.

as of late...

you're so very special
i wish i was special...

but i'm a creep
i'm a weirdo
what the hell am i doing here
i don't belong here...

shine on me.

i sat down in my office this morning, turned on my computer and found this...it was quite an overwhelming 6 minutes...much needed, much appreciated.

I was lost when you found me here
You pulled me close and held me near
And I'm a fool but still you love
I'll be a fool for the king of love

He gave me wings so I could fly
And gave me a song to color the sky
And all I have is all from you
And all I want is all of you

It's grace, grace
I'm nothing without you
Grace, your grace
Shines on me

And there've been days when I've walked away
Too much to carry
Nothing left to say
Forgive me Lord when I'm weak and lost
You traded heaven for a wooden cross

And all these years you've carried me
You've been my eyes when I could not see
And beauty grows in the driving rain
Your oil of gladness in the times of pain

It's grace, your grace
I'm nothing without you
Grace, your grace
Shines on me
Your grace, your grace
I'm nothing without you
Grace, your grace
Shines on me
Shines on me
Shines on me...

these days.

my hands are shaking

my back is breaking

from all these years i've carried you

faith is all that's left of me

but i'd rather be blind and believe

i've never needed sight to move into the truth

but where are you?

feeling like you need to be

a perfect place?

don't let the darkness suffocate

what the tide brought in.

i floated out on the sea

and met grace face to face

she was beautiful, like no one i'd ever seen

she lifted me up in her arms

and plunged me to the deep

and it was there all alone, she taught me how to breath

and it happens every time

my lungs start to rise

the doors open up

wires start to unwind

the machine slowly wakes

and the cadence begins

the angel opens her eyes

and the light filters in

 

sometimes you just have to go there.

i just shot myself with a forty five and while i'm lying here bleeding out i thought i should take the time;

if i find myself at the top of a mountain, glad to know your there beside me

i always thought it was complicated but it turns out to be very elementary

tonight i saw jesus and he told me to tell you hi

the desert sands could never leave me, the air will never get too dry

i've always been a sucker for your attitude, being wrong will never get old

i remember the days when you had purple eyes and waking up was my favorite time

i've never been short of words to say, but you, your timing is golden

i could carry around the weight of this thing, cause the other option i can't even hold

don't be afraid to chase your dreams, they're never too far away

if we could all catch a falling star...well, duh, we'd put it in our pocket

every time i sing "something happens..." it dawns on me, yeah it does

go into the light alone and don't hesitate to call

i'll be there once i patch this bleeding bullet hole in my skull

ps. i'm really ok, i just hadn't written anything dark and gruesome as of late:)

so i was reading...

it never ceases to amaze me how the spirit becomes so accessible and undeniable
in our lives once we make the right moves to welcome it's peace.

on and on and on.

just follow the path your footsteps have laid out

you know where your going, shallow hollows can't stop you anymore

close your eyes and put away the sound of beating hearts

find yourself sleeping in the warmth

we free ourselves to wander in the desert

then question when we find sand between our toes

we hold on to recollections of the truth

and turn our ears to the call of sweet repose

 

lessons from fiction.

open the floodgates of heaven, let it rain.

when you build a fire you start with a small bundle of twigs 

to begin the flame. then, slowly add more and more, bigger and bigger

and soon you have a steady burn.

The timeline of 6:

we all want to be the deciders. 

judge the world, the president, our neighbors,

the unlawful, the moneymakers and rump-shakers. 

put your mother in that line-up.

your son or daughter, sister or brother.

a man tells you to pick your 6 favorite people in the whole world.

people you love the most, cherish the best.

then he tells you, out of those 6, you have to shoot 4 and let 2 walk away, unharmed.

who wants to judge now? 

do you want to hold that decision, that wreck-less ignorance in your hands now?

i say this, because i sit high in my chair behind the bench way too often.

this scenario once played out in our own history a long time ago.

but the man holding the gun decided he didn't want that role.

he couldn't shoot 4 and free 2, so he turned the gun on himself and saved 6.

love was born.

now our world has circled back and we walk the streets everyday, strapped to the nines.

the question is, are you going to blindly, foolishly point and shoot?

or rather choose to be in line with the greater things we may never understand and

live for love? 

howdy doody was a pervert.

fragile soil makes for fragile flowers
i'm dancing with the man in the mirror,
it tells me he is my reflection but we look nothing a like
i'd love to bow out, i don't feel like dancing tonight
i'm a monster, i'm a maven...
i really think that's something to believe in
i think i have cancer of the imagination
or my creativity has several eating disorders
i am dis functional.