I knew it when I woke up today.
It was something in the way the sky seemed to droop
The way the rain was barely there, but it was.
I knew it when the sweat gathered on my neck as I rolled over, wondering what the point of leaving my bed was
I felt it as the image kept replaying in my mind as I tried to scrub myself clean of it
It was in the way the notes in the love song didn't have their usual meaning, but seemed to be the explanation as to all the reasons I didn't want to leave my bed.
I knew it'd be one of those days I'd put myself on autopilot
Trying to silence my emotions from the world
because they wouldn't know exactly what it felt like
They wouldn't know the nausea that is this recurring image
the droop of the sky that makes my heart sag along with it
The barely there rain that brings with it barely there tears.
I knew it when my eyes peeled open today.
Another day passing without you.
tempt a fool
to write the
arch of her back,
the trajectory of her smile.
They might beg
and plead with
the most Godlike of sculptors
to bring his words to form,
that they might kneel
at her bare feet
and look away flushed
if their eyes strayed
above her ankles
Played like a harp.
verbal or otherwise
might convey an atom
but for the Ionian
plucking of wind
in the hushed corridors
of her temple.
The future has been around for hundreds of years
Shadowed in doubt and shadowed in fears
But when the upcoming becomes the past
We find the answers to what we’ve asked.
We learn our meaning and find our desires,
We mend our wounds and start new fires,
We discover friends and hear their requests,
We accept new jobs and are paid in stress.
The future, for decades has been the same
A test for humans, a waiting game.
The future becomes present, and soon - past
Always answering what we once have asked.
The only variable to change in years
Are the answers determined by our peers.
So do not fret for what is not now
The future is only what you allow.
i compare school to space,
there are the mean people that you avoid at all costs,
they will destroy you one by one.
the small dwarf planets,
boring people that are basically non existent,
or concerning you.
there are the shooting stars,
testosterone filled boys,
one bright spark for a second then out,
there are the stars,
the people that are nice without meaning to be,
but can burn if you get too close.
the teachers are the larger planets,
controlling other orbiting planets.
you're the sun,
the light of my day,
what gets me up in the morning.
you shine simply because you do,
nothing can over power you.
so many people revolve around you,
because you are kind,
they cant help it.
you love with so much power,
but burn those who are mean to the people you love.
this is why school is like space
The meaning of time
A black box of secret snakes
Biting into clouds
26 combinations of arcs and dashes:
the foundation on which
we build meaning,
names created from nothing.
Generous swoops like cradles and pointed lines
that tango in a dangerous duet.
to not employ such a terribly powerful tool
is to diminish it, but this absence only hurts us more,
leaving the waiting soul as barren as the womb
of the mother-to-never-be.
An intangible monster whose strength
stems from paradox, lighter than
a butterfly’s kiss that crashes
down in volcanic eruption. A bomb
that can never be disarmed.
Love is no abstract thing defined by the constraints of the clock.
Gaining meaning with time.
Gaining power with days.
Gaining strength in years.
Love is no fashion trend or folly of the bored.
It is not cool.
It is not a hobby.
It is not a “just because.”
It is the soft whisper of breath that sends shivers down the spine;
Warmth to the soul.
It dances on skin
Like a child tiptoeing through a meadow.
It is the joy that accompanies the moments apart.
The feeling of peace.
The sudden grin.
The daydream of bliss.
Love should be measured in beautiful moments.
larger then the letter
which make them up
far more expansive
then their definition
the condensed state
of the idea they represent
far more complex
than the body
our worldly manifestation
a condensed state
of who they are
our bodys are simply
of entities and essences
too expansive for this world
fore everything is greater than it seems
It was last year. What was I doing on a day like today? Was I contemplating the meaning of my Youth, as I do now? It must have been something like that. Now it seems like I simply count away the hours until I slip into my image of adulthood. Eighteen is a powerful number when you have not the slightest idea what might happen in the next two years. After that point, well, I’m not so sure. I hitch-hike to a small town in Arizona. I get a full time job and then what? The snow continues to fall outside. It’s more sleet than anything. I’m thinking of the girl I used to talk to around this time last year and another. Within one was the artwork of old Paris and the other, I pictured in the rave scene of underground Europe. It was strange, I know. I don’t speak to either of them, now. I haven’t in a long time. I’m trying to imagine my journey across America. My longing for new people to meet, with stories about heartbreak and self destruction. Along with my own. I’m nowhere near a novelist, I’ll say that, and as far as being a poet, I’m half of one at most. I hope to meet a woman full of ideas in my travels through Youth. The grand adventure, I would call it. I want to meet modern Hemingways and Wolfes. I imagine this and pour myself a cup of coffee, lighting another cigarette
Multiple questions; quizzical words springing up to catch my attention such as "Hindrance". Who was the one hindering my smile? What force was blotting out the sincerity in my heart? Insecurity was a factor; memories long past--a warning to cease any actions leading me forward. Even through the word I sought a way out. I tore a hole into the plastic bubble subtly titled "Hindrance". I peeked past the thick material, careening forward with one eye looking out. It was hard to overcome the hesitation of fear--yet it's gone now. Hindrance isn't such a complexity any longer. I know its meaning; I know its cause.
The scientist proved the hypothesis with experimentation and observation. Now I will search for a new word to move forward with. This one will become obsolete.