A nap to release the breath of old, away
In the quiet breath
And with a creek of back
You know then
That life
Isn’t in the beginning
Or the end at all
But right there in the middle
Of the very present
Breath
Performance spinning
Play, punctuate, perform perfectly
Nobody cares
Besides those perhaps who obsess to possess
Why try, and then, try again?
When the inevitability is only as clear
as the symmetry of the earth
Which spins and spins - unendingly
is how we behave
Hoping for and
not for, the
truest of ends.
The very very imperfect ones
Some days
Darker than the night sky
With clouds as soft as cotton candy
And tree whims torn from limb to limb
Like thin ice felt beneath the feet
Like broken glass and molten steel
Like where the crack and hammer meet
Screw this
Some days suck
First fever
Fever want
It's easy to be most content
When the action is present
When the purpose is known
But give yourself nothing but time to see
Nothing but quiet days of setting snow
And in the waiting you will find
That the precious thing which you seemingly wanted most
Was just another line of string
In a wrapped up life unrolled
Whatever we want, is a human want
The smile of a sunrise
Steady shadows wince
At the sunrise smiling wide
As it see's it's lover
And says it's casual goodbyes
To it's fling named goodnight
Last dog, last man, last rat.
Best is best
By either means necessary
or by gifts once granted
By another man's regret
But is less, and worst
If you're truly the only one left
at last
Last man, standing?
The same as cloud and sky
Wishes, thoughts, hopes, desires and dreams
are all the same, as clouds in the sky,
as stars in the night, as the shadow in the
absence of light,
You See,
They are made of meaning by the only one
who has seen, and can see.
and can see.
Sustenance
Life is grain broken
Barley thrashed and pulled apart
At the seams of being stitched together
Born of bread and beer
Intent on being sustenance from the start
When you feel as if you’ve already seen
And then suddenly
in the mirror of your minds eye
You understand, because you've
already seen
the sight, the reason, the why.
Because to everything there is an answer
even if that answer is nothing
The Infinite
Her as iced coffee
Would you appear to me as quick
as condensation?
And stick to my table
like a drink in June?
Until the opposite occurs,
that being the cold of me
and the warm of you?
Miss iced coffee Americana
true would you?
Her, as iced coffee
More and less
Think
less
Speak
less
Write
more
of what is true
Harp
less
Hope
less
Give
unto yourself as you hope others
will do.
Twittering tweets
The best is when
the cackling crow,
thinks itself a
songbird true.
Thinks its warbling
words of mush, compare and are
more beautiful...
Than the well composed,
creative pros, or the
nightingale's God given tune.
Hue hue...
Twittering tweets
Quiet existences
There's a quiet corner
within every earth,
where all which you want
and desire exists.
And it's the opposite
of every wish,
you ever wished
That is those which existed
during a time of
wished nonexistence.
Who, or would?
Who are you?
To tell you something?
To declare you will do
or would
or will be,
anything.
Who are you,
to say you even know yourself?
To think that you think?
Can you be anything less
than you've already been?
Frustration and existence
I think why I
Am against this
(nothing)
So much so
Is that existence itself
Shouldn’t just be about merit
I find
Nor about the breathless need for existence either
But about the advancement of something
Be it anything which sustains
Or so I find that such
(a something)
Is more worth the try
A blessing of tremendous value to some and none
Thank God for hearts
And the kind which give
So freely from
This the strength of themselves
For otherwise this
Such an existence to be
Wouldn’t be
Actually
At all possible in the least
Or so I find