a tacky canvas that
pitcher-dribble reaped,
like an infant in the highchair,
no cherrios to eat.

mundane messes like
blood on your knee,
gravel in between;
bend, but grit your teeth.

white was so boring, though
color cannot be undone,
until a final draw ends,
and entropy starts to run.

watercolor, was it?
the dye won’t wash away.
don’t you see me,
****** by graffiti

like the coffee stains on
my tie, the ink at the
top of my naked sleeve;
leading edges that bleed.

if you shudder at the unholy
messes, the incongruent seams,
i took too much of your time
already, ask once, i’ll let you be.

Birds Dont Sing and
i know you asked me why;
you said I never knew
the places that you do -

corner store with the
Corvette Cassette, or the
urbanite Chinatown,
Origins of your youth.

i may not know them but
i do know Lovely You and
Lovers Rock too, where we
spent an hour washing the

stone with tactile tips.
a Lilly of my day, as
at night, or, oh-no, Oh
Devil in disguise.

when i look with my eyes
i see So Many Details,
strings from Kites zigging
a bedroom span, zagging

back across, No Rules,
like the rivers or roots we grew by.
attempting to Think Feel
my way through the space -

no not forever, but yes
Everything Goes; like how
You Hear Colours while
i try to draw them out

of what i return to you.
like light, only of a kind
before the reflection, a reply,
now i'm Giving up that Feeling

i don't know how,
we broke something inside.

grey-blue
my day’s first sight.
the chest lid opens
for a moment;
through my ungilded pane,
golden light.

covers not of cotton
hold me in a sleepy state;
alarming sounds outside,
mechanical monsters
speeding by - i should
charge a different rate.

washed and dressed,
the coffee steeped.
brown stains spatter
the porcelain platter;
a tacky canvas that
pitcher-dribble reaped.

your scent-leavened my room;
now i’m just citrus and oak.
(a lonesome, near empty glass,
speckled by dried bubbles)
like spindrift from waves,
hazy memories, smoke –

i return to the edge of my bed
rain filling the gutter,
sounding the roof
pans of metal, mossy
cakes softening the tap-tap- tap.
– lightheaded, I shudder

what were the last words
you wept? a final stinging truth.
filling the void of a clear-cut
heart is now overnight trick;
succession may give me roots,
like my hemlock and alder youth.

here is one possibility -
the adoration is rooted
in your fresh quality.
i've never met any one
quite like you before.
that novelty is inspired,
held internally; hopeful.

it's the fire inside,
if what i read is truth.
constrained by
steeled sheets,
the chains wrap
clockwise around;
a shell to weather
the storm, inside.
thick skin,
leather shoes,
words that drive the loop -
if mary ever
left her room,
color would play a tune.
every item studied
makes us die; bite
the apple then
taste the lies.
living on the inside,
a hope in favor
of saferseas.
always playing
hide-and-seek,
as if soaking in
truths might flood
tubs, never
setting me free.

the chains of our
youth did not exist
as you may recall;
decisions made by
the flip of a switch,
seconds before hands
rose towards the sky.

novel textures fit
between fingers; smooth,
crisp – colors perfected by the
unwieldy and wild.
all a respite for
a world upon which hands
lay straight lines.

pouring sazerac at sunrise,
while the echoes fall in the west;
your demeanor was cliff side (disorder)
scrambling like the ocean tide
all was hidden, through day's light
a shadow's play, a lover's disrepair

its a matter of time,
but you can't stay here
who do you wanna be
what do you have to fear

is this reality
only mine to wear
shedding light is a crime
shed a tear, i cant bear

and when time, is running out
well who will you will me to be?

do you remember the night
back when we first met.
fires turned to hot ash
then firefly silhouettes

used the car, burned our cash
glowing sand, naked feet
silent howls; moonlight
then my heart skipped a beat

but when time, was running out
were you the one here to see me?

Citrus hues and cerulean blues
The question was never why we were here.
The sound and the sky palleted one another,
paint brushes older than time itself.
The people elated with the sense of the place,
Pulses bumping, in line with the tempo.
Through our translucent flesh, the feeling flowed;
We were one; then, in a moment, we were gone.

Were we lost?
How much time did we have?
An ounce of hope on the horizon ( the only thing i worship)

There was temptation,
There was friendship,
There was modesty - or was it self doubt?

We listened for answers;
In whispers on the wind,
and clatter in the waves.

The trail was warn near the edge,
But there was no fear,
Only Life.

Perhaps stronger waves lie in the ocean,
Inconsequential on any other day;
In need of a shock,
A cold on you skin,
The sea breeze just isn’t enough.
Depart your shroud, your husk,
Become a shadow of the day,
Fall, downcast, in fluid motion.
Give yourself over to absolute absence,
Swallowed by the depthiest  of bays.

Do you ever stroll into the woods,
Wander and wonder and speak with the trees?
Wind whips up and whispers words in you ears;
Close your eyes till they open,
and then you stand still.
You have lost yourself to the world.
Can you be found?
Do you need to be?

I rifle through the contents of the room,
Searching for secret words,
Hidden in gloomed ink
On shreds of yellowed paper;
No, antiquated shrapnel,
Plain scrawling on the side.

Now they seem mythic,
These syllables tightly joined,
Hidden in books and under shoe boxes,
Paperclipped to the pages of my past,
Leave me only these remnants,
Still I will cling steadfast.

The burns, they will last,
Rope slipping in tight hands.
My feeble grasp shan't release,
Feeble hands of a feeble mind,
For love is a fool's errand, (hush!)
Or so at least says the cynic.

I am Glass, fractured,
Perhaps everything short of shattered.

Blinded by the color of this world.
Even when purples and reds and oranges swirl,
Greens and blues stand apart in their light.

When the crisp yellow notes tremble,
And the warm red droplets splash,
     Crashing like the glass,

I will not be the same;
Nor will any other.

You are the most extraordinary person I know,
Because when you dream so big,
It might just happen.
But you have to start now,
In this moment,
Don't hesitate.
It's time to sail.

My eyes lie to me
So I grasp and cling and feel-
In fear of falling into the sea;
In hopes of finding what is real.

To my dear friend,
     Maybe you never heard, since we weren't that great of friends back then, not until after graduation. Had we known each other better before you left for college, you'd know that almost every teacher, instructor, and friend, as well as nearly everyone I grew up with, up till and even through high school, has at one time or another told me that I was going to do great things. Friends, family, acquaintances, parent's coworkers. Now that I myself have gone off to university, I still hear it, from professors, graduates, even the folks I work with in the research lab. It's like a sempiternal memory.
     For a long time I just thought everyone said that to one another.
     "You are going to be a star."
     "You'll change the world one day."
     Senior year it was clear that wasn't the case, and it became lucid just how much belief so many had in me.
     It was, and still is, one of the most genuinely sickening feelings I experience; like vertigo, it causes my stomach to flip and demands that I run. I know that sounds ungrateful. I love all the people who have such faith in me. Letting down so many people scares me to near death though. I never made the ivy league, I didn't graduate valedictorian, I gave up on the career I wanted as a child, I haven't received a single scholarship, despite my "over-qualifications," and I honestly no longer wish to be here at school.
     When I look back on it all, all I see is a two decade long timeline in which I have yet to do something worthy of note; worthy of saying hey, that young man has left his mark. I never made the news, I didn't win a trophy for an athletic team or club. I can't play music and my youthful creativity has drained out of my mind.
     I have done nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary in my life.
     The only thing I can lay claim to in this life is being the kindest, most loving person I can be, working towards a greater capacity for compassion and understanding on the daily - and in this world, those things are hardly ever appreciated or recognized.

     My point, and I promise there is one, is that it doesn't matter that anyone remembers me in history books, or that I have some theory or technology or technique named after me, or a monument or museum in my honor. Helping other people stick it out on this planet is the most valuable asset I can have. I don't say this because I see slivers of it in me - I don't, despite what so many might say. I say it because that's what makes someone different than every other person in this world who is focusing on the progress of themselves and those which they selectively choose to assist in moving forward.
     And let me tell you - I have NEVER known of a more concentrated group of individuals who has these invaluable and critical characteristics. These qualities are what make us so great with one another. It is precisely why even though we feel lost more often than others we know, this core group of friends has become a family, loving and supporting one another, demanding that we stand and fight, shoulder to shoulder, so that we all might have a brighter tomorrow.

     A last thought : that uncertainty? Not knowing what it is you want to do, where you want to be, how you can possibly get to your goals - it's always there, and there is a reason for that! It means you are thinking about things. It's terrifying and nerve racking, not knowing where you are headed, but its probably one of the best positions you can be in. I wouldn't trade it for picking and sticking with the wrong tracks of life. When the right choice presents itself, you might not be ready, but I guarantee you'll know its happening,  you just need to observe, and when you recognize, you need action. You're a stargazer, and you see the important stuff you need to, when you need to.

With Love Eternal,
     The Hipster

I was nearly there.
I just had to jump.
Everything was in disarray.
In this moment,
I was older than I had ever been before.
But impossibly,
I felt the youngest I could remember.

The wind pushed me toward flight
The water called like a siren,
And I stood on the edge,
Scared, but not as I am next to you.
With you nothing is certain,
And I have no choice like I do here.

You came in with the summer wind,
And you disappear but never leave.
You pushed me around without
So much as a shove;
You ruined me.

In that moment,
I knew what we were;
Perpetual and persistent,
Kinetic, and infinite.

You never leave and are often found,
An enigma, ravishing,
Daydreaming in air,

Red skies and gold sand on the shore,
Are the unspoken words we share,

And in that moment, you are my life.

Sometimes
           In the early morn
      I can feel your presence,
    From the other side of the
     door, more like a world
       away. A rush of pure
          ecstasy overcomes
                  me, from
                who, I know.
                  When I feel you,
                     Warming my body,
                        Your breath on my neck,
                           Then a touch behind my ear
                              A caress across my shoulders,
                                 Slowly rolls off down my back.
I turn to stand face to face with you and I succumb to absolute awe, a beaming radiance and a

hearth of heat unlike any fire before.
Impeccable beauty,
Incredulous silence,
Infinite beauty,
     in any shade.
This is how I know.
I am at long last in love.

You once confessed,
That you could talk to trees,
And that makes sense,
Since you can talk to me.
I've wished I was a tree,
Since the first day I could think,
Be steady and sure of myself,
With roots from which I drink.

I never noticed, until we met,
That wind so often spoke to me.
And I know now why it was so;
With the language of the winds,
Someone can final speak to you,
A zephyr, my love.

The cloak of darkness washes out the color,
So the browns and greens and grays can blend together,
Dull the gleam and vibrancy,
Shapes are now all that remain,
Silhouettes of the features of this forest.
A fractured perception of life,
A pretense believed I'd rather be withheld,
For despite lacking a central palette,
Perfection still lies in wait of the next light,
The next rise of the Chariot of Apollo.

And you're a liar,
But then again really everyone here is.
The words spoken,
Always sound so dull,
When we sit in this room,
And mindless words float around.

I've seen you all lie,
For me,
     For friends,
          For yourself,
And we will all lie, to
Save lives,
     Save thought,
          Save even face,

People will tell tiny white kinds,
Others will tell the blackest of all,
All in the name of trying to be cool,
All in the name, they say, of kindness and love.

I'm a liar too,
To friends or my mother,
To strangers or a lover,
But it's in this silence,
I have to be honest,
Sincere, not withholding.

In stillness, the faintest,
Sound of beating chests,
Breathing lungs,
Trembling souls,
Zephyrs come howling,
While trees stand and whisper.

Sick and tired of the daily lies,
Fall into each others love,
Trusting silence to
Finally speak honest words,
For the first time in days,
Maybe months, even years.

A heartbeat cannot lie,
With sanity on the line,
And it's a sure step up,
From that sneaky little muscle,
Slipping in our mouths;
They say it's called a "tongue."

Let these untruths of yours
Be set free unto the sea,
Cease this fabrication,
Of stories told to me;
Pergure yourself no more,
Drop down your defenses;
Show the world what you have,
Show everyone your heart.

Nothing left to be said,
Can be the greatest gift;
I write these words unto,
To attest to you to sift,
Through all the words you hear,
Because words are left to  
You to read and perceive,

They  might call us fools,
But I'll tell of how I,
Loved more, this way than that,
Saved and spent my sweet time,
The right way,
The honest way.

I've lived ways most have not,
And if anything more tragic
Than a lie doth exist,
It has to be the story,
Of the souls who know not,
Honesty, but prefer lies,
How they have been bound at the wrists
And ankles, blindfolded at the eyes.

Pies can get you lots of things,
Pies can get you through your day,
Some use pies to get place to place,
While others use pies to stand and stay,
Pies can help you when you are flat on your back,
Pies can not help you to know, I confess,
The difference between the the English word "pīz"
and the Spanish word "pē-es"

When things aren't perfect,
Music makes life just a little bit better than it was,
An immeasurably small difference,
Makes an immeasurably large impact;
So with gratitude,
I listen on, in the temperate evening breeze....

Falling in love with the night,
How I miss her so,
When she goes,
While she's gone.
I love you dear, more than you know.

Sitting in my room,
Boxing up my life,
Sorting photos and tickets,
Newspapers,
Trinkets,
Tokens of all sorts of yesterdays.

Do you remember when we turned a GA at MUN
Into that silly sci-fi universe,
And do you remember those stupid montages,
I showed in class so proudly,
And that trip to San Francisco,
When we probably passed each other's cars.

What about before those days,
When I was still in to planes and history and other's lives,
Curious if I could ever live one as fully.
Those 2 summers I spent on little league,
When I learned no matter how hard you try,
Sometimes you don't get better.

Do you remember the dream you told me about,
When we were left alone and all we need was us.
What about when I had my first kiss,
Or that time the beach lit up like a nightlight.
Then there was that night when we starred up at that sky,
All those nights with our backs on that cold stone.

Then there were those drives,
Those movie nights,
Those dance parties,
Those birthdays.
Those conversations,
That always carried us through the twilight.

So many sunsets,
From my roof and the hill
The milkshakes after midnight,
The board games, and cards,
The trees and the trails,
The ocean's cool waters.

For a long time I thought it was beyond help,
Trying to hold on to all those things,
I surprised myself today,
See, when you throw out a picture, a poster, a page,
You'll never have to say goodbye,
Oh, what a beautiful mind indeed.

Do you remember that summer,
We rolled in the grass,
Washing in the sunlight,
Listening to the finches sing their song,
     to the trees rustle as the wind pushed the cars along.
All I could smell were the plants,
And all I could see was you,
     the shine of a brilliant grin.

Do you remember two summers past,
We laid on that couch,
For hours that seemed like days,
Yet still felt everything but long enough;
     I held you in my embrace with intent to never let go.
All I could smell was your hair,
And all I could see were dreams,
     visions in my mind, now distant.

Do you remember the summer last,
We started as less than friends;
You took me places I'd never been,
Showed me the world's beauty,
     how it is held within the simplest of things.
All I could smell was the salty sea breeze,
And all I could see was the golden threads,
     and the ruby, oh so red,
     within the brightest light I have ever come to love.

Will you remember the summer next,
And all our traverses through reality;
Stand by my side and I by yours,
Just like when I woke up on that beach,
     and you held out your gracious hand
Who am I to say which way this river might flow.
If you know it will separate us, please,
     tell me now. Stay here, with me, in this sand.

Our nature is inescapable.
It will always be there - we are, after all,
Only Human.
Animals, like any other,
"Better," we reason,
Because of  our brains, our hearts, our souls.
We can feel things. We can sympathize.
We can build big, great, complex things.
We can make judgments between right and wrong.
We have imagination and creativity and ingenuity on our side.
We can love.
And it is reasoned that all these things make us special.

The truth of most of humanity
Is we give in to our nature,
Compete,
     Even destroy one another.

Two runners on the road,
One behind the other, but soon will pass.
First Place has two choices here.

He can let the Second Place pass.
He is, after all, superior in ability,
And that is nothing to feel ashamed of.
First can race Second as well as he can,
And cheer for Second as he claims the name of First.

His alternative,
With pride and greed in his way,
Is to best Second at any and all costs.
And so he begins to plot:
As Second Place passes him,
He'll ensure they'll keep their titles,
And First Place will put out a foot,
Or perhaps with a shove of his arm,
Trip Second Place up,
Maintain the lead,
Win the race.

Too few would cheer for Second Place in our world.
We live our lives under the suppression of individuals
Who do not care for other's successes,
For fear that they may fall from greatness.
That they will lose power.

We are no better than the nature we live within.
Not at the moment, at least.
Perhaps we are better,
Perhaps greatness is within our reach,
True greatness,
Where we lift one another,
Do not seek only that which will benefit us,
But that which will benefit others,
That which will benefit all.

As long as pride and greed
Are allowed to poison our minds,
We will walk these roads,
And let nature run its course.

**I wish all of humanity good luck in such a world.

Someone save me,
Please, someone, fast.
I need stitches on stitches,
All these cuts, I can't last.
Too old
          Too deep
                    Too tender
                              Too tainted
                                     burning
                                     infected

Just inside this body,
this bony, stony shell.
a heart's fire is burning out,
Life's but a walking,
                      breathing
                        ­  living
                              Hell

You walk for so long,
You love so many, so well;
But it's the loyal, ardent folk,
     who temper adversity with acumen,
That one may not expect to have fell.

I'll stand back up on these worn down soles,
Because I look around and no one offers a hand;
The only faces I see for miles around,
Are the faces of my new companions,
                                             laying on the sand.

You see, you can throw us all out,
Tell us were no good to you;
But when we wake up and look to our sides,
We see one another, hearts ripped right through,

They say there is strength in numbers,
And now I know this to be true;
A broken heart alone is somber,
Yet great joy can come from merely a few.

Hereupon I join these crestfallen denizens,
That we might serve as better lovers and friends,
For what you saw as weakness, our love?
Our weaknesses love now and always mends.
*
You know not yet, I fell for you,
     And all your imperfect beauty.
          You told me you tell no one your story;
               Even in your dreams, no one understands.

But I woke up on that beach,
     And you didn't know my story,
          Yet you held out your gracious hand,
               And you lifted my spirits high like yours,

Now I can do anything;
     Now my heart can  heal;
          Now I know where home is;
               Now, now I once again can feel.