The world spins ahead
Spins underneath
As my own head turns
There in time with the earth
And tears itself apart in search
Of being what quiet serenity can be
(And whatever personal tranquility is)

Though previously known
It had to of been
And madly I go on therein
Beside my own self being in hope
Of my old returning self to be
Full and mildly free
Of this hope built upon hope itself

That I am not spinning, it's just everyone else

Perhaps if I were taller
Standing out more so in a stagnant crowd
Even as PENN DOT lines during a crooked July
Or with deep sweet swallows of pride able to drink in the clouds

Or if I could sing and lull with just my eyes  
If I were mean or kind
Or less drunk with proud
Or loud about if I could bench well over my own weight in pounds

Maybe if I cared more, or cried often sometimes
Or didn’t have the willpower to step aside
And stop fixing things for the millionth time

Maybe then, and if
I looked more like him through your eyes
Then maybe I’d be more or less, motivated to try

My heart sounds out
   And whispers  
Like wind chimes in the air
   For you

With gentle rest
   Our dancing steps
And hopes more light
   I wish you into this summer memory fair

Playing carousel dreams
   Of you
Just to hear

I'm not at sea
We're not at war
At all more happy about what's been
The ships which set sail over again
On the same old breath of tired wind

I'm a man inland
And as we once were here
So long ago before we stood
Watching the storm creep in
Sweeping softly over limestone cliffs

And with this I remember
Like the clear day fore Michaelmas
Before the storm sets in
When we were back then

Again

Lead me not to a circus
Through rings and browning trails unkept
Unaddressed by rain and rain soaked oaks

To a place where the spiderwebs could never grow
And the sunlight never weave with such seepings ease

For as long I've stood and ever known
That my feet want more of this compelling cushion beneath
And my mind it softens sight at the corners of my eyes
Just to try and better see  
Within

No woods compare to there which has been
And thus you cannot be standing beside
Unless you have such seen
Alive

In the stillness of this Penn resides the bittersweet
And the mossy trail to be left behind
Not the least of which considers me
One of it's kind

I am

Starlight doesn’t fall
It eases into atmospheres
And shines in mirrored eyes alive
Like all the sand-glass in the shoaly seas
And the crystallizing clouds in the winter skies

Just as all of this is in
Her eyes

I am not lost
Just kicking dust

I am not of starlight
But I burn

And though I'm totally
Something worthy nothing

And growing most daily
Beneath the eyes of seeing

It's in the looking
And finding next to breathing

That of me
You will ultimately learn

Hold my hopes
Regardless of how high or low
Like the towers in the distance hold the canvas sky above

Standing closer now than the reality of how  
Yearning souls alone call out to be found
With each other in their one true home

Don't leave me standing here alone
Don't leave me now

"You know me
I'm just like you"
Said the street to the moon
One reflective night
We are the same kind of vanishing day
And with a weary stroll
Against our own better judgement
We fight

I remember you    like my last breath
      Always
   And           Yet never
Fully aware

To pull your sleeves down
In the midst of summer
Is not to fear the heat
But to aspire to be
The greatest form of indoor mind
Which you could possibly be
So once they're at length
And at your wrists alive
Don't worry
Just be
And don't freeze

Is a horizon ever uneven, I ask?
Is a perfect wood floor free to fall?
Is a hope, a dream, a wish
The same old night sky different
Just viewed differently by all?

I ask the stars, I asked the moon
I'd ask the sun but it just beams
And smiles knowingly in stubbornness
Having viewed all such horizontal scenes
As completed unique

No sunset was ever meant to be, it just was

Your stormy words
   Cut through the clouds
      Dry as rain
And falling like stones

Hailing from another earth
   I feel the weight
      The desperation
Long before they reach the ground

Such weight embraces
   This trepidation

Do you feel, do you think, do you pretend for, and still hope to be? Do you try, do you want, do you wish for, and occasionally plead? Do you shine with vibrant wonder, and in dreams cool resolve to be? Free from the sake of those waiting upon you.

Do you still wish to fall?
I'm sure you do. But for me?

I love the sound
Like first of days
The kind which cuts through fires at night
The kind which echos in the hallow mountains above
And winds down with little candles alive and bright  

And in burning for me
Would you play without fear
Without self or acknowledgement of death

Play
It doesn't matter how or what
My dear

Scribble a thousand, a million, down
Invent and scratch at the surface of create
Paw at the great cats still wandering around
And wait for them to speak in jazz
But leave, and leave a man alone with them
And but a moment later they'll be in his bed
Lying all around

The fat cat words cannot wait to be heard
They are always sounding and acting OUT

I am a sand sifter
A mountain top metal detector with quiet shoes
A fly caster
Comet thrower
And spitter of flames in deoxygenated rooms

I am time once sighted
Tree tops withering in the slow sun growth
And a mere stone’s throw away from diving into the waters called home

I am the feeling of being betwixt despair and hope
As if all true sand sifting shifters know
We just go, and by nights’ allure continually comb

And a comber kicks nothing without a rake

You speak
And I hear my beliefs
Together
Is a powerful thing to be
Be it only in hope and sight

Hauntingly
Like a mist your guise
Each summer arrives
And suddenly rolls back home, in time
Through my brick laden, star studded
Slightly falling, downward town
Closing in on forward, your mystery chuff
Peeks and whispers back mere smiles
Miss Downs
And with a rolling, and a winding
Like a circus wheel turn sideling
Paddling ever through a waving sky of findings
I am here quiet and there sometime searching
Still in the direction of minding
With constant winding down this familiar lane
Of which your own haunting guise is ever hiding
Forever in your whispers, you are
Miss

"I never know if I should miss you or regret missing you"

Competence known
And with confidence found
Standing personal, leads to an exuberance in person
Like new flowers which will never know the ground

I don't grow on change
I thrive

The world spins ahead
Spins underneath
As my own head turns
Along with the earth
And tears itself apart in search
Of what quiet calm serenity can be
(And whatever personal tranquility)
Previously
Had been

Yet madly I go on
Beside my own self and being
In hope's of returning to me
Fully and free
My hope