I pour it out
Like a bottle of wine upon the ground
I have spent myself therein
And soaked into the bitter ground
Behind the house

Because no expectation can withstand
The truth within
Which is that you can control the consumptive means
To make or break most anything

But I pour it out
Because I can

As snow descends unto the earth
With a calming, soothing, effortless ease

So you my friend should be like the snow
And settle the horizon beyond the trees

No snowflake was ever meant to last
Or to live to see the newborn leaves

For we are uniquely designed by God
As unique and beautiful as these

I am a man of little blocks
The world it tears me down
And when I'm broken on the floor
He picks me up
And gives me the support to build around

The goal is not
To write as your most exaggerated self
No
The goal is to write the least like yourself
And the most like the feeling
Which you now know

"Beneath the sky, above the grass un mowed and growing high.

There lives a quiet seamless wind, which whispers words in the back of my mind.

It questions me and my own being, and inquires as to if I am wasting my time.

Searching throughout humanity, for someone so practical and pure of heart, who I never was actually intended to find."

All I really do is stumble and walk
Kicking stones, picking rocks, skipping thoughts

And you want to get lost in the recesses of your mind? There is only you there, what do you expect to find?

To hold her for hours
And hours on end

The desire of he
Who contends with discomfort
And fights for her future
Be it not his own

These are the paths which only he knows
Lonely though they may ever be
He walks
Steadily into the good night

A light
Alone

Thank God
My sin is my own

To the sounding chill
Past the open sill
I could never compare

My voice but a whisper
And hers a symphony of a thousand crickets
All performing piano consonance on the air

Crash
Like hopes
Midst falling waves
Encircling the outer banks

Built
Like timberus structures
Known only to man
Which pass

Fall
Like Autumn
On a chorus of empty ears
In distant monologues

Rise
Like metaphors
In a cautious Spring
Learning to last

Like the hazy screen
Projected off the fog and green lights of a Sunday night

I am en route to you
Always

Although sometimes stopped
At a red light

I am weary
My eyes are wandering aimlessly
My forethought having long since lost its ability to see
Anything beyond the warm bed in front of me

O' my old friend
How I long and wish to return to you again
To pass the day slowly away
Until I am refreshed again and eager to live
Outside of this abnormality

Because I miss the normal visions I have
And this, whatever you want to call it existence
Is a much sleepier, far less enjoyable version of me

For I am weary
And yet I want to be
Rested without having to waste my time
Investing in the folds of sleep

This I know to be selfish of me
And yet no matter how hard I try
I cannot seem to close my eyes and rest my head
At either the foot nor head of my bed

Perhaps, if you'd see me, you could understand
That I am not angry, foolish, or sad
I'm just a slightly tired man

Did you ever question why it is
That I like to walk alone outside?
Late at night and underneath
The hailing Stars witch glow so bright
Do you ever wonder why that is?
Perhaps because I won't let a roof
Separate my thoughts from you
And the only way to send them through
Is via the open air
Which always seems to be alive
At that time of night

In the hours after

When the rain falls slowly beneath the stormy lights

When the only omission left is a sigh

And the duration of a breath has passed

I'll know then by

Where we stand within this life

And what was meant, therein, hereby

This is not my town

But must I try

May rivers flow into streams
And stray in whatever direction they need
In order to reach the inevitable sea

The most amazing thing
That a young man can do
Is age gracefully into the embrace of order
And out of the chaotic confusions of youth

Clearer than any settled pool
Brighter than any firework sky
Fresher than any daisy or flower
More real than any polished rock to remind

Falling fast and furious in mind
Like a stonework leaning slow built tower
With a buzzing hum as a furious fly
And sanguine light midst reflective pool

I remember it like it was yesterday
Because it was just 3674 days ago

Who knows the path most meant for you?
Who knows the meaning of it all?

Who knows how many trees bear fruit and precious leaves which fail to fall?

Who knows which way the wind does weep?
Who knows the path each snowflake takes?

Who knows the choices we wrestle with?
Who knows the trouble we ourselves make?

Who's at the end of the lonesome road?
Who's name is the only name to call?

Who knows the WHY behind the world?
The answer is the ALL in ALL.

Every time
I think that I’m really though with you

I laugh at the irony
Exclaim, but not in exuberance
My heart races, only to fade

And a headache follows
With my realized mistake

Every
Single
Time

Why do I look?

Nobody dreams anymore when they sleep
How they wake to find
That their dreams of the day are not met
Will not meet
How long will this nightmare continue to be?
Like a daily life with eyes wide shut
Squeezing tightly until its extinguished from me

I hate being human.
I hate the waiver.
Because the things that I do habitually, aren't even me.
I just learn them.
Slowly.
Steadily.
The learned yet subconscious, Me.

A gentle, delicate, beautiful hand
Extends from the Excursion
And drops a can
Ugh, what a hideous hand

When my thoughts run away with me
And I don't know which way I should go

Once I receive the insignificance I so badly wanted
And all I want, is to be left alone

When every corner of my existence is thick with dust
Having flooded my mind, this temporary home

I find his words alive again, and I am reminded
That I must decide once more to go home

Have you any idea?
What you do to my eyes?
The wrinkles and lines which you evoke?  
With delicate ease…
You do this to me
And have you any idea?

There is a glass box in the ocean
Invisible to the nautical eye

How it hides beneath the subtle waves
As the breakers and boats berate the tempest skies

For amidst the ocean of unending salt
Amidst the darkness of the currents below

There is only this
An ounce of freshwater in a box of glass

Unfound, both in and of itself
How it will ever preserve and still outlast

Overlapping like our hands
But colder, quicker
And in an uncontrolled fall
Free until splash, dew part
Truthfully
The rain drops in the puddle there
Are not like us at all

Sometimes when I look at the ground
And see it round
I want to dig so that it's not there
So that what's beneath it is revealed
Is extracted and laid bare
Sometimes when I look at the ground
I want to know evermore so
And in my desire I do not care

Some days you just feel
As man was not mean to be
Alone

When your pain is pain is pain is pain
And your only escape to mechanize ... is sleep

All day all day all day you wish
To be free from constraints and responsibilities, and

When you finally are set
And in your self contentment can stay

Complain, complain, complain, complain
Don't exist though you do this day

Feel the sand beneath your feet
See the waves above your head
Like the pressure in your heart
So deep
You’re the only one who gets to see
The sea this way
As it is
Crashing, rolling, underneath
How you stand beneath the oldest beast
Ever to be brought down upon the earth

The love of my life doesn't mean
Heart and soul
It means choose and choice
Part and whole

I'll find no rest in this old home
Another house beneath my feet
Like sands which shift on a foreign shole
I am the comber of this beach

With every night alive I wake
To wind which howls
And a bed which aches

Though guilty as my leave may be
I can no longer sleep within this place

Cars roll by in subsequent order
Aimless yet guided
Aware of me yet not
And so, gone in an instant
Though similar in nature
Are thoughts
Are cars
Are these other lives
Are these

How can you mend a bridge that's never been crossed,
In the daylight under the sun?

How can you climb beneath the turquoise sea,
And swim to the base of a mountain undone?

How can you find a way to the clearing's edge,
Where the waterless streams beneath willows weep?

And how much of you and I can be found,
Together, if to our opposite sides we keep?

After so many words have passed my lips
After being so warm
Like fire on the edge of my fingertips

I amazed by what I find
Both within me and within this
My seemingly same old somber mind

Because all of a sudden
The same old feelings
And the same old wooden stirring stick
Have broken into a dozen pieces
And suddenly I am settling in
After weeks of feeling uncommonly mixed

This is a different side of me and yet the same
With a broken stick cast at my feet

How I want to share
Because it reminds me
Exactly how I would like to be
But to be like this forever and always
To be locked in this form exclusively
Would be nothing short of torturous for me

So I’ll search for new words with this month
And try and find a way to stretch
The same old somber sayings which
Always seem to bunch up in my mind

So I’ll search along the wall of time
From here until the very end
Until I find the truth within
Where his words begin
And my words end

For only his words are perfect and kind
And enough to restore my peace of mind

Vitriol
Spit it out
And keep a more civil tongue in your head
A more round noun in your mouth

The other day
A match struck my roughness
And anxiousness took me to be freed by fire
As I burned away all of your rusted memories
Which'd been stored for yet another day
Which turned out to be today
In ashes your words
Cast, burn and floating away

If work, a sea, has tossed me asunder
Then I in two, will sit on the edge of a caffeinated cliff
And write about it, about me, about you

Where raindrops crash so quietly
Speaking soft with subtle sounds aloud
And in a language to be seen around
Like moving hands their white ripples fade
Out into conversations crowned with mist
The kind of sweeping breath alive
Which breaths itself out atop the waters edge
Just as words once hung on the morning dew
Now they wake with joy and are gone the next
As a calming way on this crustless wave
The waters return beneath and rest

When they curse and cry and weep and wail
When they try and throw you down like a stone
Don’t sink or slurk, but float
And that alone will be enough, to know

From where to draw
From which new well?
The night forever never tells

With no ear there
To hear the silence
But to speak another, break the spell

No mind to see what's in the night
Unless the dark is spoken till
The dawn it breaks another dream

With morning come a settled well

Deep to draw
Deep to dwell

The most difficult thing about knowing more
About realizing that someone is capable of more
Is that you may come to expect, and desire more
Which becomes more apparent, when only one mind adores