Feeling is just a matter of time
as we are all caught
(one and the same)
running

Hoarfrost hugs me closer than
these sounds of something
in this quiet night
And the sky, the sky, shines brightest
beneath these trees in reflective thought
In looking I am reminded
of my being alone and alive

When when a man
In his own way tries
To make the stars align
And without so much as a twinkle
You, refuse to remotely,
Like young Torrence, shine
Than dont be surprised if
He, doesn't bend his back to mountains
Or sets foot in the great ocean divide
If you, in your own eyesight up
Didn't want to see his time

Apart is the tear
Of myself and yours a piece
Every time I hear

When I click, or scratch, or dial the wheel
or breathe out slow smoke, one, two three.
When I kick and grasp at nothing, and something
which grows high as the sky, and slowly as the trees, you see?  
How the ink runs dry
and the intent an ocean quells.
That each time the clock unwinds
another mountain flood, rolls itself down
onto an unsuspecting parchment town.
Little this is never free; the known things,
And why I send to you these things,
each time alive when I am found

can we just stare into each others eyes again
and not know all of the things which — seem to be
but — have always been?
















it's 3 a.m. again, friend.

Maybe today
My words will change
The face of the earth
And make her smile
Smile again

Whatever imperfect things
We could possibly share
They will not compare
So long as I have
And hold fast to the hope
Of what perfectly could never be
S O M E T H I N G

Finding your memory
Lodged deep like a bullet wound
And in reaching past ribs, I heal
And turned out your used-to-be onto the street
And now only its recollection collects
And makes me money

Yawning breathes out sky
Inhaling questioning earth
Breathless we will try

Familiarity follows those
Who have gone out already and found

When you love them more than you love you
The happenstance will've already happened

And in whistling through this life of old
Remember then the better, bitter, end

Are you breathing for alive
Or are you just sleeping through sounds?

Different isn't an alter to bow
Nor change a prayer
Or a party anything less than a high

No all of THIS, that is human, is only being

Our faith is living
And in living it out
A M P L I F I E D

I recommend you go higher, friend

Sometimes I ... want to keep you, still. to stop the earth from breathing, the seas from braking, and its foam from reaching his conscious shores. sometimes aligned the night wishes, upon us, itself not to end. and the dawn away from us. because love is love, and heaven is held, here as far away from your thoughts as hell. sometimes I find ... that I just want more, and more of us as well.

Stars burn far as sands
From head to foot underneath
And the moon looks down
In earnest reverie at
The wonder of why we ****

Look at me in turn
And see only this second
Passing eyes meet

I had a thought
the other day
(in the shower).

And we
(in our fooling around)
both slipped and fell
on a bar of soap
called reality.

Painfully fun it was.

The human heart is trying
Though it is inevitably
Foulably
Undoubtedly
Corruptibly imperfect in nature
Lying

Though never the less trying

Inbound thought.
Outbound prayer.
Are you well?
Are you versed?

The greatest mind above your clear life
Born in openness and bright alight
Is the darkness within but a wink
Passing fast, her being free of time
And with loving eyes obscured, the sky
(is she and looks out, not down on us)

..Hug the world and..
E   M   B   R   A   C   E
You don't have to love
Lose your steadfastness
Or even change the un
Be true and moral, grace
Tolerate, don't cheat or hate

Revelations isn't tomorrow
I know because in knowing means, I don't
Don't tell me I don't care for today
Or know what it means, when in reason won't
Fast held in gossip, I'm telling you this
In the nothingness found only free
Don't sacrifice freedom of mind to less
And lesser things from revelatory such
Wants of being in the know you think
I know this so, in this so so world we do change but don't ever grow

I've since discovered — that the hardest part of seeing (with such unique perspective) is to see — what the person or pleasure actually is, and not what you think it is, was, meant, or could quite possibly be.

You can lay out the road before them
Paint skies
Crush nights rock into glasses
Grow forests in days of young
And refuse to drink the seas before their very eyes
You can do all this
(in a few days)
But only they can decide to walk