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

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

There is nothing more peaceful
No place more quietly filled with solidarity and truth
There is no smile brighter
No sound more solemn
And no such expression wasted solely on you
There is more than expected
Midst this endless perspective
There are labels which cannot speak ounces of truth
There is more than that which appears to all else
In this moment I find
There is more than just you

With your smile being sunshine
Pure and unrelenting
Don't tell me that the night will come
Before our time

The ocean is grand
The woods are wild
And my eyes are as shallow as the puddles in the summer's rain

But my words are insufficient
And my words are inadequate
When it comes to expressing such things

The trueness of the heart and how it beats  
The clearness of your words and how they ring
Endlessly in my hollow ears

Having children of my own, somewhere, someday.
Will be to me, the most phenomenal distraction from self which could ever be...

What can I say
When things are this way?
Not much I’m afraid
Make a comparison to the difference, be it night or day…
Cheesy
Tell you that it will not always be this way…
Untrue
Because only we as a race can say
And determine what it means
To be loved and to love
At least in this, this certain way
So what can I say?
When things are this way
Just be wise and be true
When you question that way

We love the rain
We love the night
We love the heart
We love the sea

We love the snow
We love the sun
We love the quiet
We love the trees

We love the dawn
We love the song
We love the sands
We love the birds

We love the warmth
We love the cold
We love the girl
We love the earth

How we love and love
And for a short while, our world

Walking down a road
Without a sight in sight
Isn't knowing
It's trusting

That at the end of it all
When it all has fallen
That it was worth the walk
Because if not I'd fall

With that
A weariness crept up close upon me
Without a word or caustic look
More silent than a shadow stalks
More lonely than an abandoned Rook
It jumped and I fell fast asleep
Surely as weariness, consciousness, and companionship exist
I feel, as if only one of these can be
Whence awake

Miranda
I will tarry here
For a little while left in hope
Until honesty grips me by the shoulder blades
And bades me back
To walk the lengthy line alone
For a little bit longer
For a while, I go

In the sky, a star hovers, while another passes by

We spend our academic lives...

-worshiping ours, or
-regurgitating someone else's

When words are meant to be neither of these.

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

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

College is
A peaceful mind
Because it's years
And years
Of nonthinking
Thought

Free of judgement
And greatly
At a price
Often bought

Poetry is a smooth stone slipping
Wavering back and forth in the water beneath
And the fall of all in a slow transcendent arc
Until it comes to rest
Finally
Like all poetry
At the end and beneath

You speak of stars
As if on first name
No closer you are to me

Yet I am in my own atmosphere
Just waiting to breathe
And fill my lungs with thee

Forget, no don't
The memory in mind
Of when tingling spines aligned

No starlight impedes
Be it out of reach
How your words once made me shine

This poem needed an outstretched hand
To save it from defeat

So I laid me down on broken cliffs
And simply reached

To save these words from quiet worlds

I... will not... delete

Does a paintbrush try and press itself? Or a fisherman cast to feel his own strength?

No.

Likewise, does a moon know when its been idealized by the idealistic pen? Again and again.

Not likely.

Can you see through the colors of your own eyes? Or hear the kissing secrets of the wind on its lovers lips?

No, thankfully not.

And in choosing can you pull thought from mind? With an ease which sets you free to be taller than trees and freer than snow.

Sadly it is with me, when I say no.

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

High ceilings breathe better
Walls of nothing or all
Speak loudly without ever having to scream

With balance hinting at perplexity
And a defining edge to rest your head
Surrounded by most of these

Just as the minds eye needs a self reflection to see
And the breath within needs also to breathe

Outward
Honest
And openly up

And such high ceilings are perfect for these

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

Your song is like a clover field
Lucky
Peaceful
Always at ease
Rolling like the streamless hills
Your body right here next to me

Within the grass
And on the wind
Ever is your voice to be
And even when I’m not in sight
To see your jawline ever slight
As you sing a clover field to sleep

I know your voice
As I know your eyes
And the way much like your song implies
That you are peaceful and at ease
Like a field of clover
You’re lucky to me

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

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

How could people die, I'd ask
In the springtime of youth
Most ignorant, find

Now I know, why people die at last
When the aches and the pains
Persuade, the mind

For they pass
And pass
As all do in time

And the new want of me
Is mine
This time

Because now, there is no one
Who remembers my ask
Noone outlives the time

Sweet as fruit
And looking too
Until the sun crashes down
Upon pale skinned youth
And reveals the burnt, the blunt
The obtuse truth
Give me anything but such a sign
I've no language left for you

All we see, when we look at the bright blue sky, is the effects of the sun
The results of her radiant all being purpose
You must look closer to find
That the stars were never on hiatus
In the first place

When the sky opens up
And waves to us
With a rain pouring down
In a heart felt sound
Be you sure and smile back
Till the sky's collapse
As each rain is a drop
In a wave quick to pass

Sometimes I just want to escape
Not that the life around me is profoundly filled with bars and chains
But that doesn't change the fact that I
Still wish myself away sometimes
To where no one knows my name

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!

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?

The warmth of these walls welcomes me back
It's been awhile since I've been
Alive and well and in this place
When all around me was a buzz
I found myself alone at last
In a memory's cool and calm embrace
In love I once was with this place and still I am
For she is far more welcoming to me
Than all of the others
Who never cared for anything beyond the smiles upon my passing face
That is why I'll always love this place
For the role she played in my former life
I simply cannot pass her by
Without returning her cool embrace

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

Doors close like conversations
Cold as attics below basements
So we are an abandoned home
Until I light a candle and rekindle
Always me

I could fly
Though I can't

I could sing
Without sound

I embrace
The dancer named exuberance

And follow her here
Amidst the internal

Spinning like the clouds
Round and round

When you first meet someone
And they meet you
Looking to see all within
A vacuum is created
Your first touch a new universe found
With colorful smoke inhaled, contained
And your newfound faith and willingness to be
Exceeds anything felt before that first breath shared
Before and after
We and me

How can a human being be so good?
Have such good parents?
Have such a good upbringing?
Have some good friends?
Get a good education, at a good institution?
Have good enough degrees to get a good enough job?
Have a good enough mind to problem-solve?
And everyday continually subscribe to a method which means that they will thrive?
And with every success still remain not a snob?
How can any human being be so good, so well brought up?
And yet still after everything, be so messed up?

You know
There will always be
More smiles
More good people

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

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

Better than any disconnect
Any night of sleep
Any day of unease
Better still is the pouring of water
On an eventual seed
Which will turn with the sun in the sky
Into a creative tree
Which grows and thrives above my eyes
Better it is than any of these

Your mind — Full of itself
Your heart — Lying
With all ambition but a distraction
Don't try of you will lose yourself
On such small things
Relying

You taint my eyes,
You stain my heart.
You turn me like a bottle of wine in the darkest cellar.

You sound like me,
So quietly we drift,
Like the tides apart.

Like a somber tune for a sober sight,
Devoid in fact we are the light,
The tinder waiting patiently to spark.

With only the trees to reconcile,
Dark is the shadow at the back of your eyes.

And yet gentle are your fingertips,
As you caress the quiet strings.

Like the whims of the willow and the harp.
You color my tainted tear stained heart.

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.

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

BE, like a quiet wind through the cattails. BREATHE, like a cloud in the minds sky.

SOUND, like a hallway in the grandest library. And TRUST, like parachute lines.

HEAR, like the rustling deer in the bitterroots. HUM, like it's noone you'll find.

SLEEP, like the deep pooling waters of green. And SIGH, as if he were only there in mind.

The discovery of true words
Is but one of the many mysteries we seek
Both under stones and under moon
And in the volumes of our histories, we find
That no two words were ever successfully left alone
No sentence of the mind was ever so perfect as to be
The word of God without inspiration
No, mere mortal words I find to be
The loneliest of lonely things
But true words are of a great ideal
And ideals are often shrouded in such mysteries
And THIS … Is where you may laugh at me

(: