Friday, July 25th, 2014

Scarce are the moments of joy, truth be told

for my head would spin were it on right,

and the memories are few, far in distance, with blackness between.

Were I to remember salt, it would dance upon my palette,

but save the absence of color, it remains black,

a hole in my mind, an idea or thought rather than matter,

and with it every taste and potential mate,

with it family and light discourse,

with it all friends, or semblance thereof,

with it all trinket - the so few of to speak,

and wreak I in agony, severed from cheerful hoards,

my gelatinous cry, imbued in silk,

waving gently from one field or another,

turns silence to saturated innocence, a beast

beyond recognized pattern or

delineated anecdote,

I would fade were there a pattern left,

I would hide were there a visage to be seen,

I no longer dive deeply into each innate action taken

I no longer judge what he or she or it has done

but lay me now on flat planes of presence,

sinking in grave absoluteness

Thursday, July 24th, 2014

I rise from class to class,
but only find myself true
when truly classless,
without judgment, or comparison, or in between

and my tactics involve
 a      lot           of             breath

Wednesday, July 23rd, 2014

Lately
    my response
                has been

I            don’t               know

Tuesday, July 22nd, 2014

I never saw inward
what you all saw outward
but I’m beginning to understand
how you could be so
confused

Monday, July 21st, 2014

Every semblance of person was taken from me.
I am not who or what you think I am
I exist on a plane of your misunderstanding
I walk alone through the mists of this crowd’s heavy breath,
and I sip down their bitter taste with each gulp of air

Unto men, I am but enigma,
fateless, and weightless in their cold arms
by which I no longer desire to be held

I feel god’s shoulder in the dimension of solitude,
I feel fresh air through his open window,
the clouds bursting with listless, endless energy 
cloaking my humanity in divine sanity,
savoring my salvation in its soiled haze

I am one with the particles, as a molecule of a teardrop,
I am one with the meaninglessness, as Joan of Arc with history,
I am hereby stale - hereby filth - hereby flat,
and in the scope of all things,
I do not exist

I fail to exist
wandering nightly to the thump of a distant, unseen drum
straight into death’s welcoming arms

Sunday, July 20th, 2014

Words like do and love get crossed
in the open spaces of our subconscious minds

Let’s make an effort to
de com
             part
       mental       ize

And see the world from each
        brilliant
                perspective

Saturday, July 19th, 2014

While Saturn returns,
my spirit will be buried
with the lost souls,
digging themselves out of self-control

But we have a long way yet,
we can clean the dirt from under
each  other’s  finger  nails

Friday, July 18th, 2014

I surrender ownership
for I lack control of
your reaction

But I hold dear, in private,
each time your eyes show
delicate surprise

Thursday, July 17th, 2014

Let’s allow the evolution when
Others simply freeze
Vapid questions harbor
Empty solutions

True change comes
Over many lacerated hills

Most will resist, until
After we’re beaten,
Negotiating survival,
Necessary adjustments,
Yet our evolution is up to us

Wednesday, July 16th, 2014

I’ve neatly made my bed each morning
certain it would somehow
ke ep the rest of
m  y li f e
tog
eth
er

Tuesday, July 15th, 2014

I don’t feel that I’m losing a friend
but gaining a lesson
in harbingers brought
ignored, or bought,
we could all attention pay
to the oughts and the noughts,
the nays and the whoa’s,
which guide and reprimand,
allow us to navigate unclear water with unstable hand
a lesson, each wave
a bright, glowing
gift

Monday, July 14th, 2014

I get so    caught up    when you hold my hand
like——> These are the last creases I ever wanna feel.

Like I’m reeling or I cease to recall
      much of anything
      forgetting things like
my            my             my place in this text -
      I’m vexed by this thing -
           It’s a perfect powdered donut, no milk - this thing -

And while I know you have a regular-sized face - it’s so big in my head
that it blocks my perspective -
 I don’t need a view when I’m falling though, so it’s all good -
it’s like better than good -
It’s a giant, cosmic, unknown force
            and I’m glad I’m      caught up      -   or
I don’t know how else to be

     so I embrace your giant face in my head - and hold on tight
to your hand as we
                                    plummet together.

Sunday, July 13th, 2014

What to say when all has been said

looks a lot more like

what

to

do

Saturday, July 12th, 2014

I was a child of
rebellion and dark

I was the unsightly weeds bursting through concrete
plucked and hindered, but never destroyed

I was the blemish on my father’s straight record,
consumed by the world, unhidden from grace

A blemish so often plucked, so often hindered,
and often destroyed beneath the weight of men,
if men be their thoughts and their broken beliefs

So let my life be a tragedy,
let it melt away prejudice like warm tea over ice

A cool drink of rebellion and dark

Friday, July 11th, 2013

a long way to go
so say you hordes
but this moment is away in a blink or two

impossible odds
so say you hordes
but odd how I keep surprising you

but odds, be they steady,
you insist to implore,
every senseless risk a
chance at triumph or more

and hordes, perhaps we
should loathe to ignore,
will do what hordes do
while we stumble and soar