Not quite adults
Shaken are the feet
First always away from home
And on their own
Learning most of all
Their own time
Their own responsibility
And their own sense of self
To which both remove
And to keep
Such children are still children
Even if to many eyes, indeed
This is not what is seen
There are no experiences
Only mistakes and investments
Think
Ridges, a tanka
A vision is both
What you see as others pass
And what you can see
Beyond the normal hues of
This life in a valley here
The unchild is adult
To simply earn
So that others will serve
Is to deny one form
Or another
Of that which is most difficult to do
To try and grow
To return into knowing
The ways of balance before
Which your childhood self
May have actually adored
But now
You're an adult
With a credit care
And believe me
That freedom to suddenly exercise
Without exercise
Is what will be most felt
How to unsee
The strongest male gaze
Is actually not my own
Though I do try
And respect whole heartedly
Those kind and kind of eyes which know
In their bouncing way
Where to keep life in focus
On the brick
On the sea
On the sky above
And not on that which is between
The knees
The unsky, a tanka
The grayest skys turn
And in an almost greeting
Look down on the earth
And its populous therein
Just to see us frown once again
Uninspiring speech
Steady feet
In step with life
Move forward in ways
Which other sets of eyes
Either admire or hate
And that is why
I agree with the take
That people going nowhere
Always have
Something to say
Be less stagnant is life
Its more the living that way
Unshaken sound
The idea alone
That someone elses creation
Can move us in being
Time and space beyond their living
Is rather crazy to me
And yet I can still think of one
Such other composition of man
Which brings my sailboat to bear
On this great see of memory
And when I hear it I am barely
Afloat
So judge not, lest you sink
Silly self
Unaidable
You can try and help people
In their thirst for sharing
And even dig
To a certain degree
Down
And mean them well
But in the end
And at the finish
Their often line will be heard
And no stroke me be felled
And no spring may be found
For some hearts are dry
And you cannot lead
From a saltwater mouth
Out
Unbecummings
This is a drying season
Of muddy accomplishment
And stirred waters
Which leaves a thirst for salt and more
And earth and stone
And moon to hide
This eclipse of mind
Begs me to know again
A piercing sun which loves
And loves to shine
Uninnocence
We humans in being
Love our sugar
And perceived freedoms
And friends who fade away
Like lifelong days
Spent on taskes to repeat
And all the while deny
That we are doing all of these
The exact same thing
To which we wish to achieve
For as I see
No poor or rich man
Is ever guilty
Or innocent
Fully
We are
Free
To be
Inspiration
We humans
In unbeing
Are the most confusing
Of things
Which are moreso
Of the un
Than of the prior
Has been
And we
Like RF he
And EE him
Ere before
Are unlost
In the searching of our ways
And all the colorful more
In our most painted days
So, in your ageed youth
Let tongues like brushes
Paint and fold
And unwrap sights
Which breathe like the lungs
Until our chests, at rest
Are untighted and full
So it has been, let it be
And now you read
A self preferred
I consider myself
Cursed
And yet somehow beyond lucky
To be
This self of mine
Because
When it comes down to it
Noone
Else
Who I've wither seen or met
Would be more enjoyable to be
That who I am in this moment
For in these words
And realizations
I am surely free
Me
The nature of breath
Breathing out a plan
Is fun
And nice
And easy as can be
(A breath)
If and only if
Your lungs aren't exhausted
From a treacherous marathon
Of a run
Of a day
It is easy
No?
The giver, her
A process for me
Will be letting you
And occasionally even asking you
To take care
And care for
And be cared for
This me
For he is a he
Who is not used to such love
Such trust
And such dependability
Yup
Saria
Mystic minds
Show me a dream
And I'll show you childhood
Show me your childhood
And I'll show you a dream
Of one sort or another
Always
Puddles
Can you see it
That memory clear as day
I can
Just a surely as rain
Settles down and sits
In these puddling ways
And with reflecting means
Always come to an end
With each following day
And yet
That is what
Makes its all the more special
When a reflective pool as such
Can stay for a second day
And with such a gleaming gleaming smile
Be alive as such
Dispite its impermanence
With no chamce to survive
Or thrive
Still
In stillness
It shines
This is the second day puddles way
Unbroken, unbreaking, self
Taking time for self
Is like telling an ice diver
Not to not breathe
Or to prepare for the plunge
Or to not grow old
As a result of cold
Hue hue, good luck