I'm not about to invent
Some half breed better way
To go around the cycle.
We claim some surface,
And it's big and it's bright,
And a howl wakes in the moon
To greet the semblance of
That thought. So we run
So fast and hard that the beating
Of our hearts is rapid,
Positively racing before our
Imagined scene,
And the troubling thing is
That those beautiful circumstances
Might not ever happen.
Either that, or they did and
You missed the comet.
It flickered bright,
But for some reason
You were scared of the light,
So it burned away one night.

Music like hypnosis
Climbing up and down my mind,
Like spiral staircases and elevators,
Fraught with fantasy and fiction,
Induced by liquid concoctions;
Medicinal, herbal delights
Categorized by their indifference to lucidity,
And their incumbent wake
Of me streaming in and out
Of consciousness aboard them.
I am capsized
By the constant cravings
Of everything so deeply human,
Raw and unkempt.
But I do not adhere
To any one given thing too much.
I am a creature of habit,
I am a connoisseur of moment.
I am an angler for excitement,
And spontaneity,
And physical bliss.
I have no, nor have ever had,
Any accountability
For the aftermath
Of these things.
I am forever temporary.
I am always on pause, and play.

My own mind
Is such a beautiful,
Chaotic mess.
I live with this,
But I fail to find
A bearer of such
Massive strain.
I'd drive you mad,
Like everyone close.
So that distance,
The one I often choose
To adhere, is the only way
I know how to not
Break good things.
When I'm close I mark
Everything I love with
Hardness and cold, so
They become rigid, brittle
Things of rubbed out
Affectation. Proximity
Is key with me.
Must control or I will
Fall and fold and
Become completely apart.

It's just a world.
It's simply existence.
A brief moment in
The unfathomable
Age of the cosmos.
Stuck in a rut;
Universally insignificant.
But heart, brain,
Emotion, they all make
All this shit matter in
The first fucking place.
Good to feel good,
And know just what that means.

Stark naked,
Lying on a cold hard floor.
Green and white tile spilled
With hues of the living,
Fallen from lack of strength.
Oh I feel, I do,
But my head's mixed up and
My heart's jaded from this
Mixture that we humans make.
I made this bed of coarse
Difference divided. I had to
Prove to myself just how far I'd
Fall apart. I lost heart in all.
I gave myself to the tidal tumble
Of fast and swift, effortless pain.
But this belief I hold to be so:
Let yourself lose control,
If only to regain the course most clear.
So I'll ride a wave a while,
And feel a mess, and lost.
But my heart might ache daily,
And I might feel like love
Up and left me,
Still I'll take the ride and smile
If I can. Some things will waver;
Not my journey.

Lay me in bed like a baby
And spoon-feed me a new reality;
I've been starving myself again.
If this awkward rhythm never ends then
I shouldn't bother pretending to be sane,
Rather just sink into the abyss of a stilted
Dream, one where I don't have to be afraid
About losses and gains, understandings and
Responses. Resolutions found by breath,
Sight, and movement alone.


Of course I've lost my way again.
Of course I've missed the point again.
How can so many others think of good in me
When I only know this insufficient being
Staring back that I see.
In a mirror,
In a pool of dirty water,
Used to be
A credible heart;
Now a vagrant,
Bitten by the bitter breed
Of lonesome appetite.
Better alone
Than cursing others.
Better this way.

You can't hurt
What you can't feel.

I am lone reed,
Dressed in frozen droplets,
Tumbled heavy by a breeze.

Wind cool slowly,
Drive the life inside all
But my own, so then show me

How to again
Make use of this lost heart.
It breathes a fire, it won't let go.

When the passing
Of this convalescence
Ends, I should make time to live.

-- --- ------ --- -- --- ------ --- --

"The sparrow tears the reed
But the seeds fly on
To begin again."

You were never so sweet as you were sour. And I was cold more than warm.

In the mirth and the mire,
Waiting through this patient fire,
Arrives an answer from above:
Much is struggle,
All is love.

And it were quick that
Burned their heart;
A sad spectacle, a flash, a
Ribbon, tightly lost
Inside a breeze.

This and many moments
Of purely joyous, expansive,
Intimate, felt, heard,
Awoken, laughable, sweet,
And so dearly loved.

It is but the sadness that's
The deepest form. It aches
As if you became it much.
Too much talking, not enough ears.
But love holds no limit in the singular.

Sick on whiskey, beer, and bullshit.
I spun it, you spin it,
Others grin through their teeth
With mouths full of it,
So what's the point in trusting anymore?
I'm riding solo. There's a woman
Thinks she can claim me.
There's another that never stopped.
If all of this is about love then
I'm surely fucked. Because what is
This life apart from heart and heat?
I was always meant to fail at good love.
I'm not sad, because I never give up.
I don't mind the bloody pulp. I don't
Feel discouraged with the sadness
That surrounds my halo. I'm a heart
For the world. They use me as wished;
I gift them with uplifting until our
Time runs out. Then I let them go.
Fly on, sweet ones. I didn't mean a thing.
Temporary harbor. Imperfect lover.
I shared your secrets and kept them.
I gave you all I could. I'm going to drift
Along this life endlessly. Take stock in
Something other than a guy like me.
Take stock in peace and ease.
I'm not the one. I'm no one.

You are the beauty I never understood.
I spent a long while trying to
Compromise myself to
Compliment your elegance,
But I never really touched it;
Never got that glint like I figured.

Loyalty is a kind of beauty,
And despite my wayward nature
I would follow you into the deepest
Dark recesses of anything,
Yet I feel it's not the answer, any longer.

Oh, how we broke each other so.
We parted after such a silent battle;
This is that sad treaty we must abide.
Everything will be different from now on.

I'll never not feel the you of your love.
Please always remember mine. We,
Though apart, will never be strangers.

And now the sad music plays our part;
Two lonely beatings of one broken heart.

Let my memory burn for this forever.

Routines

She's got those routines.
They get her through the day.
She pulls my strings and
I'm never around to hear her sing.

It's been a while since I heard her sing.

I took my mind away,
To get myself some sense
And try my best forgetting.
Sometimes you just remember a song.

Sometimes you want to sing along.

She's a sunrise too early
Come on by a delirious morning
With no way of knowing how
My whole life changed in a moment;

You love; you're afraid to show it. 

[Such beautiful first exchange.]

At night when I shut my eyes
I see cascading fragments over years,
They pull and push me like waves.
Tumbling cool green foam takes me

Into the despair of my awakening.

The Me I Am

The Me I am
Is strange, is pensive.
Highly sexual.
Two-faced, rebellious,
Most introspective.
Fantasy-ridden,
That is to say detached.
Where is the moment?
I lost it. Always lose the point;
Always find a way out,
Even if I won't take it.
A little tragic, a bit dramatic.
Harbor, hover, distance,
Smother. Seek the deepest
But be impatient; an
Instant gratification wager,
Always losing every gamble.
Purely mammal, not quite
Human. Feeling it all might
Be absurd. Illogical emotions
That kill me much. I search my
Own rhythm but so off time,
And now the clouds cover
Every attempt to reinvent
Existence with new purpose.
I think it's a prison, a dragging
Lifeless thing sticking
To my stride; won't let me out,
Can't let me tell me lies.
Face my mirror,
I am apprehensive. But I'm
Also playful. Joyful. Silly. Warm.
I know I can be, anyway.
I will argue much, out of this need
For so much attention. Think
I must have been so sad and
Lonely long ago. Childhood hurts
A pain so beautiful that
Every other thing in life cannot
Cast shadows over
The very firsts of any experience.

Bursts of incommunicable
Wonderment overwhelming
Such sweet happiness and sorrow.
I am not very proud of me,
But I'm ok right now.
What more can I have?
Every beautiful thing in me
Feels good and gone.
It's all mixed up, I'm all mixed up,
I know I'm not right;
Feel that absence, so scared
It might not ever come back.
I am a good man.
I just don't know who I am.

"Bless the things we do and
Do not say to one another,
For they dictate and define us
Far better than we ourselves
Could ever ascertain."

So I found the border between
Where we've been and where
We may go. There's a wall,
And I can either knock it down,
Scale over it, or ask permission
To reach that other end.
This discovery haunts me greatly.

Bless the things we do and
Do not say to one another,
For they fill our heads with
Something better than another
Day alone, even if it's so damn
Bittersweet and hard, like candy
Too long left forgotten in
The bottom of a purse.

Bottom of my heart,
Don't know what the hell to do
About any of this.
Think I might just have forgotten
How the hell to love at all.

But I'm hoping it's not true...

I'm always, always looking for that
Perfect accompaniment. Stand firmly,
Planted by me simply in whatever
Goddamn thing we're engaged.
I guess I'm simple in the end.
I don't need much to keep this big,
Stupid heart going. I just want another
Misfit to roam about with. Someone
That can save my wreck when it comes.
Someone that might let me take lead;
I won't steer the thing the wrong way,
I promise. I tell ya though, I get lost
A lot. Visceral distance brought on by
Lack of understanding of my own
Damn self. I neglect the most potential
Things for a silly whim of the innate,
Particular to my brand. We run; we can
Also very much take a strong stand.
So it's come to this: lost and so much
More confused and abandoning the
Notion of proper love as the thing.
After all, I haven't always given proper
Love to those that mattered. I've hurt
Those close to me much. In the end
I suppose I've learned the kind of pain
You could know from a firm shake of
Everything crashing down at once.
I lost myself and probably for good.
This new guy might be all wrong.

It's been hard making an impression on anything,

Walking around this town like a ghost.

Ghosts can be haunted too.

And I'm beginning to wonder

If there ever is a place that makes sense.

It wasn't in the foundation.

I feel such disconnection. 

I think I buried my life in thoughts of 

Fear and inaction. 

The past is so vivid, so fresh. 

I look at me and wonder how I lost myself.

At what point do I need to go back?

Never can we go back.

This present is a slow mess.

Walking around like some kind of ghost.

I want to be real again.

Want to celebrate the day.

Want to figure out what makes me feel

So out of touch with this physical world.

Just a sleepy ghost wondering.

Never knowing what is real anymore.

All the while life is flying by so quickly.

So that memory persists...
But I can't waver from
The feeling I get about resurrection.
How does it all begin anew
With such long history at play?
It never could. But it would take
One hell of a renewed sense of purpose
To propagate that dead matter.
No amount of endless pavement,
Nor bright lights, nor fantasy
Could create some of the moments
That were simply natural.

Maybe we just didn't know what we had.
I don't understand my time,
And you we the best filter.
Like the whole damn world
Didn't make sense, unless I asked
You first.
All that is gone now. The bitter
Memory persists, but we can't get back.
I could be closer but I'll not try.
I'll stay on the sidelines because
I'm afraid I can't take it again.
Fucking fear.

Thoughts About A Past

Hello.
You've been going in and out
Again. Are you settled in this format?
Maybe those roots got pulled.
You sort of grew up;
Took a few hundred vitamins and
Started looking for a balance.
Thought you might have almost had it.

Goddammit Daisy, you make me smile.
You were pretty much my world
For a while. We kicked it down,
Drug it around, and finally
Took a good look at it in the light.
Now we're both quiet.
Quietly wasting away the night.
Goodnight.

I know there's a good man
Buried beneath all this;
I know that he exists.

It all comes down to this:
Found is the avant-garde
Tomorrow could bring us.

When I'm losing my mind,
And the street is empty,
A flicker shines a light

And I'm awaken fast,
Rupture sieges the whole,
I am built to control.

This man is good but lost.
He works to find the path.
That one that learning's on.

Stop with the self denial,
And the thrashing at your own spirit;
You're near it but can't see,
I'm not that good a man
As you think of me.
I have wandered, head and heart,
When I thought the chips were down
And I could tell you were sad and blue.
I might not be the man
You think you knew.
I've survived in this life
By cutting through it
Like a knife. Heart of the matter;
I found it out quick,
And people are all the same, some ways...
Yeah, you see. And that is all
Just mostly some of me.
You know much, but darker curtains
Skirt the much of stuff
I haven't shown the world.
It's mine, blessed and wicked.

Favor takes all kind of help.
Dusty jar upon a shelf,
Slide into a palm receptive to embrace.
But oh so quiet and sad;
Afraid to give too much and
Be devoured by the change.
Can't shake the past,
Don't want to.
But it lingers like a finger
Rapping table top anticipation
To what ends the eve will allow...

Kids.
So esteemed.
Caught in something.
It was big.
Tough pardon;
Evaporate.

Give me a piece of bread
I'll take it.
There ain't no favor
I can't wage.
You might be thinking
That I'm odd.
Most of us wander;
Leave without cause.

Let's just burn it.
Give in to this good thrill.
Shake and shiver
Out through the open windowsill.

You go on talking that trash.
Let's see you
When you meet it. I bet this
Moment's proud
By the way you've been reading.
I've seen it,
Feel like a fool once you see.
Then you'd be like me.

Let's just burn it.
Give in to this good thrill.
Shake and shiver
Out through the open windowsill.