Andrew Dec 7

I think it’s the booze that caused my blindness
The weed that caused my baldness and my father
Whom enjoyed sunsets that caused myself to write
Poetry, my mother whom showed me to be lonely
The swamp that taught me to appreciate beauty
The ocean that showed me how to love and the desert
That taught me when to appreciate water, always.

Andrew Dec 3

Down by the waves where my thoughts go ahead
There goes my brain again, down by the shells
When the tide goes out and all the earth
Holds its breath, again sweeping and sweeping
All night the moon sinks slinks against dawn.

Down by the waves a piano plays; smooth
Wind blows midnight against palms quiet
Almost holding its breath crawling forth
The souls leaps the edge, grabs your hand
Ten thousand lights lay asleep.

I took my time getting here the desert
That is. Crossed the horizon once or twice
Four years of feeling bones, cold and quiet saw
Slipped a fox down the sandstone gone very little
Rain and a few tears. (Just one desert sunset can
change me)

Andrew Nov 26

will   stars   rain   moon   desert   night   snow   time   light   day   eyes   black   clouds   cold   beneath   sky   purple   love   red   dusk   wings   fall   green   river   dark   soft   mountains   wind   juniper   memories   move   walk   air   thought   silver   darkness   mesa   flowers   days   sun   tears   edges   death   stone   dead   full   deep   dreams   sleep   blue   memory   hole   forest   man   open   white   grey   tonight   mountain   edge   sunset   endless   walking   sound   moth   emerald   spring   long   grass   woods   song   vast   bird   water   slip   window   swamp   earth   slow   morning   empty   deeper   mind   infinity   ocean   weeds   broken   afternoon   head   smile   glit   garden   blanket   sand   small   thunder   filled   body   path   leaving   eye   heart   keep   sip   winter   waves   dream   years   birds   evening   shadows   dawn   flower   tree   sad   bough   petals   face   colors   find   piano   hope   sea   poem   slowly   frozen   cross   moment   early   reflection   summer   field   wet   color   laughing   born   mirror   trees   road   valley   october   draw   heaven   laying   emotions   falling   strong   great   leaves   emerge   feelings   cloud   call   coyote   hold   room   soul   gathers   thin   high   returned   divided   beauty   blood   remember   midnight   write   veins   fish   spider   january   living   opened   god   overwhelming   times   pines   tomorrow   ancient   silent   murky   storm   listen   half   falls   mouth   stood   junipers   stones   dorothy   ground   going   canyons   cry   view   asleep   existence   close   drunk   wall   mexico   soil   quiet   lascivious   things   stillness   breeze   left   distant   web   crying   game   shadow   clay   corn   universe   horizon   silence   lies   brush   low   deer   single   star   holes   teeth   forget   dance   hurricane   layers   shattered   hurry   flash   young   brown   wave   cool   die   race   entropy   venus   sigh   feathers   prairie   haiku   emptiness   plays   fingers   blur   toes   gathered   november   change   wait   crumbles   stalks   rests   changed   smoke   standing   primrose   lose   breathe   door   started   brings   warm   mesas   drops   history   beautiful   thirsty   expanding   pulling   bend   bones   sitting   pine   beach   map   wrong   bloom   grow   trembling   shore   crept   goodbye   tall   wing   help   september   limbs   feel   orange   covered   hidden   crawls   underneath   snake   kiss   hands   front   feathered   arrow   bats   loneliness   bitch   heavy   house   zebra   space   misses   eternal   zuni   quick   reason   imagine   cough   florida   thing   disappearing   sounds   mist   flutter   final   kind   horizons   street   bare   gathering   mesquite   throat   rearranged   dancing   cave   jungle   pain   rearrange   flow   drive   gracefully   reflections   clean   shot   chopin   loved   watch   shy   naked   bad   delicately   set   burst   slanting   smiling   smallest   closed   boughs   petrified   elk   smoldering   hours   movement   april   plants   journey   canyon   three   lived   monsoons   wake   smoking   layer   fled   wound   lava   phoebe   drink   delicate   glades   mother   consciousness   flesh   moments   touch   hills   cuffs   rose   march   apart   desire   onion   spine   oblivion   people   hair   lips   erase   fox   fog   christmas   quit   choked   wept   side   seeds   tongue   quietly   fern   pink   rising   seasons   bought   shells   flying   hear   meditations   sadness   unfolding   prayer   watched   floating   ghosts   fill   dying   floor   nah   multiverse   tight   swirl   eternity   tides   stay   fell   snitch   vein   ghost   hammock   mud   moved   moonlight   songs   fawn   raining   crumpled   worms   vermilion   soften   thoughtful   skin   winds   follow   hate   youerode   vet   patches   slips   finally   sway   flowed   fax   coop   rise   swallows   misunderstanding   tantalizing   decide   forked   drinking   marrow   annihilated   wooden   leveled   ceaseless   gun   leave   dusky   dip   dilute   force   meadow   ten   bleeding   hanging   direct   waking   burger   rusty   dried   wrens   snipers   rator   anythin   poisonous   lights   haze   grandparens   pulsating   told   chaotic

Andrew Nov 26

The window would be half open to a mountain then
I’ll tell you something a window is all
Half left open before the rain; every day
Though the window has changed I’ll tell you
Something about the pain. They sit they sit
With their fingers tied, the pines are tired the
Mountains are wise. The window is wide.

Then they walk like bird and awkward is all
If the dead could talk they would say; I’m frightened
Yes the raindrops fall. Someone bends the tree tops
Tall. Someone leans and whispers in my ear. I hear the
Dirt I hear the dirt.

And then, they all go home even my lover goes back
Into the house. And then she sits upon the couch. Very
Very. Tiredly she walks they rise and touch my facesometimes
Sometimes the dead awake the window the window
And thanks for coming.

But the heart, she says It is just mine they rise they rise
She climbs inside. The hospital with grey wings I know
It isn’t impossible. But it's hope and love and love and love
and love and If I could die without a kiss. The window
would be half open then to a mountain.

Andrew Nov 26

But first the mountains
Covered in stars, the purple peeks
The emerald cliffs. The winter’s melt;
The rush and rage, oh at mid-life
That downward pull upwards.
The stream meets the river the
River sighs, red and full of clay
(I remember the day we met like that)
Full of fish and thoughts of…
First the moon, then the tide.
Onward through naked sand
Stone, full of compressed time.
The chromatic choir plays a
Crescendo, as the raven never
Really sleeps. Then the spring
Meets the summer dry and full
Of ash. How the ancestors came
Here to pass, that bridge and
All the distance. Down
By the river, covered in a deeper
Shadow, I kneel and feel
The river at midnight.

Andrew Nov 24

Not long ago the black ocean
Caught my eye the deep swamp
The lonely desert, starting on the
Edges but moving inward.

Andrew Nov 15

A dream remembered
A billion year old smile;
The river snakes on.

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