One day he will follow her to the sea
By way of creek breaking through cold pine root
Through stone and sand, through outstretched hand
Through this silent land he laps languidly
Rushes relentless, rests in pools, rolling blue jewels
To the sea, on to the endless sea, meet her at the shore
The salt and the roar, the recession of wave and water
Starlight's son and daughter, mingling in the tide
Drawn out from this great divide, down into the depths

Crown Royal in a Coke can, warm rain fills the midnight blackness
Sitting on the flight deck among the tie-downs, staring into the wake
Something inside me says to jump, blind and mindless, deep into this Indian ocean


Rifles in a pile, triple canopy and palm groves
A beach made of trash
I stand in this screaming greenery, something inside me says to walk
Lose myself in this impenetrable, howling green


I wake to myself walking and talking, who was here in this body before me?
People speaking to a flipped mask
Words hollow as reeds in the snow
Something inside me writhes at this restlessness, beckons my head beneath the waves

The soup was cold
The veggies were bland
The meat, mediocre
The dessert was placed
    in a paper cup.


But my heart is full
Because I am spending this special day with you.

I love you

I'm laying on the floor at 1:37am
on a tuesday, or maybe wednesday.
the vents are reeking of that dog again.

Blanketed by only a scented candle
I see shadows, it resembles residue
a stained glass ceiling.

There is an ache between my shoulders
as I contemplate living, or sleeping
but that's always been the same thing.

As I listen to the showering upstairs,
I try to find ways to speak in words
that have nothing to do with you.

Somewhere,
drones are dropping mortars on top of sleeping men. All the while the trusted corrupt are telling their truths to people grabbing what's left. Snow storms and summer droughts are no longer an event. While the world is changing in ways we already predicted, we choose to focus on why we're not the bad guys in this story. All of this, reinforced by the woke who are telling me nothing really matters anymore.

But right here,
I'm sitting alone on a winter night. I look across the street to watch a scruffy tabby knock over a dusty jar left on someone's window sill. Glass shatters across the lawn held tight by a blanket of untouched snow. I watch the shards cast miniature shadows, glistening as the porch light turns on. It was only for a moment, though, before I continue my attempt at writing about the beautiful things in life. Attempting - because these days it's difficult; because it matters. It matters to me oh so much.

Something stirring

A cautious hover
Over a breaking smile

gratitude spills
tumbling over the reverently held ether

life lives here,

moistened with
Blood, sweat, Tears and rain

Every fall a rise
Like the breath of providence

A dip left
A twist right

the rhythm of life inspires dance,
Poetry, art, music and song  

Like air slipping over chords

Sacred Verbiage

Vibration

Your hands are never empty

There is no void,

There is only the appearance of nothing

Which by the mere thought is even something

So grab on tight!

Even when it seems there is no thing

it really is something, isn't it?

Oh what we see, be and do when nothing is impossible!

In the hollow inside my soul

Rattling around a cage

scraping yet more and more flesh

I dont go down those steps anymore

But I can feel you scratching at the door

Dragging every sweet moment into the abyss of bitter

And the salt of my tears crystallised long ago

With nothing but dust to offer

The ocean of tears still drown me

And resurrection feels neither glorious or healing

Such long tendrilled fingers

Frightened to let go

I might have forgotten you

But you won't let me

Until you take every part of me for yourself

But I still walk forwards

And every day I will get further

And you will be but a pin *****

In my new tomorrow

And despair will forget my name