Defining the undefined one post at a time.
are you ready
to catch incoming
or are you laid back
strumming
as the scene slides by
trip hopping
while you’re busy
mopping your unused brow
pick the one
that holds you up
take her hand
sup from that cup
that we all could share
if we owned more
than just a tare
the true weight being
just elsewhere
& forgive me this aside
detour as I approach
the next chore
of aligning the pieces
on the plate
to please the Gods’
& our ongoing skate…
Baited steps into the
places I have no recollection of
Lucky streaks have kept my
dawns from going dusk forever
I awake to the
illusion of walls and mirrors
And fall into a
trance of timeless becoming
Back to, and out of, this dream
I’ve wept over bleak aspects
but have never been more enamored with
My patience for the meaning
My dawns and dusks give way to the
silent mornings I can think nothing of.
The laymen I am floats, basks,
And sinks into
The novelty of this one
I could kiss you, and leave
My unabridged walking towards this
Heavy hearted me from a
Picture frame, now ordained as the
Box that I make my way around in, indefinitely
You turned out to be
Too much, for me
A real thing despite the, usual, illusory backdrop
Our surroundings cast the shadows of my disbelief
You – in depth in fire or flames
Can you blame me?
Deep breaths, scent of the places you’ve been, without me
Scare me, because pasts repeat
Your heart is mended in ways I can’t deem myself ready for
As you stand bare, revealing something so contrasted, somehow
In perfect unity
I want you.
You scare me
You’ll take all of this, and because of this
My feeling does not change, but
These off of cliff’s edges steps, you accompany
So I, return, this favor.
Forget what I have thought, and try to only consider
What you see in me
What will come of this
Flowers, life and oblivion
If we are fortunate
Dreaming only within its own territory
is not enough, never was
Beyond parameters of
Imagination, mainly, because the
Possiblities reign endlessly
In the crimson void of symmetry
Destined for beyond
To catapult is improvisational.
Landing will surprise.
The rise, the ride is it.
To fame or market’s bottom.
Who is there
For your arrival? Will
You be gladden
by their waiting? Or
Removed from all
Caring in a flash.
I’m watching those
Fly overhead without
A seeming care. Two
Minds are observable:
Those with their eyes
shut tight
And those going wide-eyed
Toward glory or the abyss.
Her shadows beckon the ultimate return
Birthed and bothered by a call of the voluptuous luminescence
Must get back where, the curves are no question
Where I am the exception
Fly on the wall not even
Just a small speck of sight that gets to witness
long legs and a fitness
Hurdling miles per second with no precipitation
Ms? Knows her own revelations
And teaches me slowly, surely, like prophecy
We know I am destined for her plateau
Mean time though, the imagination runs wild
with every possibility of places to caress her ineffable silhouette
Now I am free to roam
And we, eventually, will not become, but will be known
As one
Letters fly, away from it all
Language does best – burned and tethered
Armor lines the people’s chest
Many lines can attest for
The embargo on many actual moments
But on the brink of
Time becomes still, while we, as its company,
can do nothing but match the decorum
We are fallacies upon melodies
Take us out of time, find ourselves in space
Where movements align, morph, match, to the point
where you can’t differentiate
The dance comes after 1 more step or, one more line and
1 more song or, when you are ready
It never says ‘come’
But always welcomes
you home
Driving Out Somewhere
To come out of the haze
that hung on the street
was a deep breath released.
Turning catches corners
lifting angle glance windy
sparse grit clutters angular walks.
Tied to bullet response held
back along drives away along
avenues dimly lit hushed fever gulf.
Roped-off personal folly comes
as the mind in the humming car
envisions the circumstance called the world.
All At Once
Register will and clock from silence.
Aperitif greets the meat of digression.
Happenstance fades to glimmer blade,
bends the corners of not quite.
Once there was subterfuge in the telling.
The all encompassing let it out.
Partial explanations for this moment
will never bond with your idea of narrative.
The alpha and the omega of transport blues
parks outside the newsstand playing
for change which is transitory.
All at once the measure ends, gathers dusk to its side.
Tossed pejoratives have narrowed the field. Out back
The grass grows while stasis and beautiful sunsets go hand And heart. From the north the glove is removed.
Satellite pictures gloss the subject. A vast patina
Has descended. “And, am I glad to see you.”
Others find the fog and traffic a distillation connected
To the end times like the frost on the lawn that stretches
Away from early times. Discontent has moderated
The flow of things around the basin.
Tasks were started up and rejected
Out of hand. Perspective is a two-way street.
Dinner arrives quietly comforting no one.
A tossed narrative, such as this,
Disjointed such as it is, links the shy
And the bold in a leap time devours.
Indirectly I still love you.
This essence is not linear.
Encouraging modal tones over abrasion
Is the way we survive.