Most quiet smile
There is a strengthening
Of soul
When not speech
Prevails
But instead
You hold
Onto the words of in
Without care for other men
But for yourself alone
You write not as whole
But in part
Blood and leaves, a tanka
Regardless of these
Blood vessels alive inside
Bleed red perhaps yes
But it is green in which this
Spring blooming always resides
A heartfelt ask
Here within this quiet hum
Of all things unmade
I ask
You to make me anew
Show my feet where to move
And mind how to be
Quiet and at home with you
Once again
I’m am
And asking
Please
And then he was sent to prison
Falling from a gracious freedom
Is never a beautiful thing
Instead
It is the breaking of limbs
And the bruising of bones
And the shattering of family stained
Glass or not, it ends in a fall
And we are skin
In metal and plastic shells
A worth or a spell in youth
A worth
And an negotiation
Are not the same
I find
In forming
An understanding of value
Which is shared between
So few
And negotiated so scarcely
Since
We are obsessed with what we are doing
On average
As compared to what it means
Or meant
When we did
Be it for a time
Or spell
As we were then
The embodiment of
Of it
The what we did
When we were young
Lone, a tanka
Given time to be
At last alone with the self
May provide no more
Than an answer of knowing
That you’ll never know itself
Probably Unheard
Unknowing is this
A constant wish
To say more than goodbye
Or at least to understand
When the final one was
And the words were heard
As said
As is
As was
Goodbye
I love you
In defense of future self
Advocacy
Is
Such a
Hard fought thing
Even to
Understand
When it’s
For you
And your life
Which will be
Someday
Eye creases
Smiles fade
Back into neutral each night
As we rest
As we reset
And in our youth
Fade back into eyes
Both of rest
And of hope
And of memoric surprise
When we later look back
With both the same
And yet different
Eyes
All and yet one
There is a valley between
All those sensory beings
Who sing beneath stars
And whisper to trees
Just a few miles betwixt
And then there is me
Who wishes soundly for voice
But can only hear songs and speech
In my own sky of mind
This is me
That’s them
And we are we
My friend, so choose
The beauty of humanity
Really is the choice
To walk or run
Or to turn towards truth
And embrace its grace
This is my cause
My calling attentiveness
To choice
So choose
My friend
A futuristic, unpresent, me
Contentment with self
Is a weird topic for me
For fear of being accused
Of complacency or worse
I often find myself lost
And unable to appreciate
All that which, not has been,
But in that moment was
And is
Which was me
A thankful heartbeat
This heart of mine
Beats thankful at
The strong stability built
And over time felt out
In this sharing existence
Of us neither new nor old
For I am with you in heart
In body
In mind
And beside in soul
My Saria
Operating Table
It’s impossible to feel
The true coldness
Of an operating table
Until it is you who is laid out
Laid bare
And cut deeply
By a goodbye
Betrayal
Or other such loss
Of warm heart or breathed air
Until then
You do not know coldness
Or metal bearing
At all