As sure as my blue-eyed skies are blue
That will never be normal
Nope
It will always be you

I am the rolled up sleeves before it's socially acceptable.  Before 3:00.
I am the rooftop climber and the moonlight gazer.  Swinging in the bitter wind.
I am the patient one.  The tag along.  Often kind but on my own.
And always off in my own mind.
Completely different.  And yet the same.
I am one.  *One of a certain kind.

Welcome change
Embrace its embrace
And you will grow new
In spite of the length
Of your shadowy face

Because long is the short
Of the time in this place
And though changes are made
At a self-perceived pace

We are meant to endure
We are meant to take place
Would you welcome the change?
In all of it's uncomfortable embrace

Such a person will flatter you and charm you
And try so hard to be what you need
But then again, they’ll never be a true mirror
And they’ll never be as reflective as me

You are the twist at the corner of your cheek
Like a youthful expression from the past
Meeting at an intimate place, which I’ve yet to know
But hope—beyond all hope—that I could meet

When a young man grows
And thinks not of of himself
He will find instead
Much thought
Of the framework which he can provide
The direction in which he will strive
And of the quality of those to reside alongside

Fragile as a city streetlight
Quiet as the flickering night
And falling like the pale moonlight

My love will breathe its final breath
With an exaltative hale
And hiss

My words a mist
Will die with me
In a bed that's not my own perhaps

This layered earth my pillow rest
And with a quiet mind
Lay me down to be

For I am no longer here you see
And these words once left
Remark so little of me  

To my fathers' house
Go the most perfect and unexplainable sounds
The voice I found is free

Why would I spend any amount of time?
Trying to sound more like an old man?
When I’ll become one of them soon enough I think
And sound like them
It'll even be easier then because I just "am"

Let the future be your motivation
Your drive to make it down the road
Remain focused, remain persistent
Although the direction therein, you do not know

A clock is not a muse ... you stare?

A door is not a hallway ... you stretch.

A meaning is not a life ... but temptation.

And a cause is not a just ... personification.

A thought is not a word ... once spoken.

A hope is not a hope ... once shared.

A truth is still a truth ... midst ignorance.

And a muse is of your own mind ... you care?

This song
Your sound
Is like crickets or grasshoppers
Their unfathoming fate
Happily found
Although I can't decide which
Or where they would be

When I used to think about you
It was was with the warmth and intrigue of a friendly fireplace
The distant respect of a nightlong star in the bright sky
But now it is only the cold ash and glowing cloud
Which consumes my night in the direction of you
For you are no longer in mind of mine
And I am no longer am to you

I used to run across the Moherian cliffs
And jump to catch the first sunlight nether wisps
As they twinkled like dawning fireflies shone
In the jar of a hopeful wish
For as just as in your hand there mine own exists
Con·tent·edly

The wind in the trees
Blades of grass catching raindrops
And you in my ears
All of these with an open mouth
I hear
I breathe
I still believe

No more shadows reign
No more the dark running waves
For they have crashed, yes
And will pass inquisitive
As no darker means will last

The government has it's secrets
And so do I
We all are deep and in depth creatures
Capable of living both very public
And yet very private lives

And yet every once and awhile in time
I'm astounded by what is that I find
In my own life

That I've been trying and far more confident
In the standards which I set for myself
And now that I'm there without sense of self
I no longer wish nor want to comply

I cannot see outside of me
Just as I cannot see the other side of the other screen
Or the person who might admire my words
Or just how they might even appear to be

But this is fine and alright with me
Because foresight flows most equally
Both to and from the truth within
Until such truth is know to me

And just as I might never see
The person who reads my poetry
There is something refreshing inside of me
Like an inherent truth reminding me

That only the readers who I let see
Will ever get a chance to be
Within that certain sight in question
First and foremost, as it appeared to me

As a lover says I will return
Just before the extended loss of stay
Be it echoed over mountains past
Or etched in stillness contemplation
The tongue in all of its self-proclaimed wisdom
Finds no words less, no more deserving
Then the faithful say
And cry on high
Saying Maranatha – Maybe today

TBC

With keenest shine and subtle glance
Such chaos between depth and height
His sheen a reflective mirrors pass
Her shadows crashing with shallow bite
Like light splashed sparingly on a neck
Or an elegant hand outstretched in white
Within watery muse she finds each night
A bit of herself reflected in his Atlantic eyes

You sing your Iris and I’ll sing my Creep
Hum Yellow to my Yellow Lights
So that all the night can see
Such unchained, unchanged, melodies

Prop upon an elbow
Look beyond a lens
Stare into the memories to be
And pray
Whispering quietly
That soon it will be so
And that it never has to end

There is more meaning I find in the Me of You
Than there are words in all of the pages transcribed by man

And no promise, dream or lie will ever suffice
In communicating what I cannot

The importance of your existing to me
Be it only for this short period of time

Just once in a bitter little lifetime

From the gentle curve of her subtle wrist
To the slenderness of her hand
Placed within
My own already hers in mind
It is there within the frozen moment
Which I am reminded of the absence
The lack of time
To communicate this distant feeling
And the stillness within this state of mind
For a centimeter is not even a half of an inch
But an eternity
Which is no small distance
To be separated from such a mind

Cast out the mind
Of the thinking self
Splash and reel
In the quietest version of life

So confident when signing up for it.
So comfortable once in.
So awkward when outside the door.
Am I the me who wants to be in?

I Am Comprised
Not of stars
Or of seas
Or of trees
But of leaves
Because I fade
And will Fall
To these
Winter winds

Clearer than a whippoorwill
Quieter than an ivory key
More subtle than the raindrops still
Than the rustling fingers of the leaves

As an echo off a distant peak
As close as fireflies unique
And wide as the array of canvas oils
Which their stretch their colors etched beneath

Spill out by these aesthetic stills
By the gentling ripple of the wandering streams

Call out for where you can hear yourself
For there you will also find this me

Iron
Wood

Oak
And stone

Ash
Glass
And wax unwound

How all will melt
And all will burn
Long before his heavenly throne
Reveals itself forever more

Because we are the human
And he is the God

He reveals himself in ways
Most unknown

His structures are that of pure existence
Carved out of matter we cannot imagine

He is unlike us
He is everything
Beyond our frail and fragile bones

No bound amount of times compress
Could pressurized this want in me

Leaving other lovers not by the wayside
But with a future of their own to be

Arise and fall, my beating chest
With a breath anew and deep words to breathe

Let me not invest in unstanding still
But in a redemptive song bursting forth, wild and free

I can see myself
Like a tree
Twisting and turning
Growing
Into an adult me

When the realization casts itself like a line or shadow in between
Be it falling fast or stretched out in front with steady meaning
There is no height too high, nor fear too great
No better time or opportune place
There is only this, the height, the fall
And those opposed who choose to jump from such a height
In truth, the fearless never notice their shadow
The fearless jump, they never fall

With a song in my ears
And a smile on my face
This is the small window of change
For me
Where I can be charming and unafraid
Truly comfortable
In this informal space alive

Hi!

Flying through the crisp air
Waving like my freedom fine

In declarative mind
This is for you
Because I believe the opposite
That somewhere between your extreme and my distaste
Lies the truth

This is what I find

As eyes see surely
Blue lylac on a green hill
Wavering with ease
So also these yellow sails
Grace the white canvas born free

Cold as moonless sun
Close as stars
Far off as city streets
Swept apart by the combing of the beach

Mere steps away
From the sandy sea
Is the salty churning stairwell down
Into the depths

But there no answers are to be found
Just like here
Only sounds
Are the words to me

I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't come back. Why? Because I'm here, and I'm a most formidable threat to contest.

If I could carry you between my ears
Record my thoughts, my mind, my ways
For an entire day
I would do so without hesitance
And send them your way
Just as I write
That way I wouldn’t have to explain and tell you so
In that particular way

We spend our academic lives...

-worshiping ours, or
-regurgitating someone else's

When words are meant to be neither of these.

Like a spotlight on an empty stage
So the clouds part ways with their Ominous hopes
Separating themselves from truth
They wish to whisk my joy away
They wish to banish me to the darkest corners of a shadowy grey
To someplace where there is a more active role which they can play
And yet today is not such a day
For the shadowy clouds which I abhor have been whisked away
And hence forth they shall hang over my head no more
When the light of my life has pierced their veil and come to pass
I shall dance around the darkened clouds like a matador
Let not the darkness overhead **** the candor which self-pity abhors

I am the jackrabbit on two legs
The half moon hanging overhead
The eerie branches in the dead of night
And the midnight snack
On which you wish you might just be able to bite

Ask to find. Don't run and hide.
The person is not the pleasure which is in mind.

Just as fears are never lasting, ever fading fast we die.

So also should our conversations be more just than that in mind.

And yet I find...

That it is the pride of self expression, which comes most before the fall.

Perhaps our story has been recanted. And I did not share Me at all?

Straw hemmed down
Crackling beneath collapsed feet
And folded underneath
Like a prayer
I'm bound to you and to this moment
Like a song
I wait for the inevitable record scratch
And the crackling repeat
Of whenever we roll
Over the breaking backs of the strawfall down
On the bed we made
Where our young bodies first did meet

Long walks
Cloudy eyes
Quiet thoughts of you in mind

The Atlantic turning like a phantom fog
With dark words beneath, and even brighter skies

To illuminate the hopeful flame
Of the flickering all, of all once kind

Know that these waters turn for you
And in hindsight turn, for me and mine

Envious
Is a deep word
Meaning more than envy itself
Envious is craving your feet on the other side of the world
Where no road ends
When the same rain falls
And when all things turn inevitably
For better or worse
We are all on the same green Earth

Artists live as prisms
Captivated and thus torn
By the light through them

The smile which brings these crows to my face
Is owned by something else this day
A name, a name
A beautiful name
How it brings a smile to my face
A smile so loud, it would scare all other birds away
But not the crows feet in this place

Sometimes
All the time
You have to let a storm be a storm
As if you could stop it anyway