The moment when you think about
The way it must begin or end
To rhyme or flow
It’s there that you’ve lost the original thought again
For the sake of format
For the sake of style
For the sake of trying to relearn what which you already know

The more aware you are of time
The more infuriating it's implicating becomes

Who would want immortality here?
In this halfway house
I do not know?

Yet he who keeps his calm doesn't know, but enjoys the most

Bright and cheery as the sunlit gleam off the seasoned leaves
With peaks as high as the surrounding sound
And yet as approachable as the dawn which streams
Into the Meadow of the long lost wood
Where every childhood memory can be found
Pure is the light which envelopes these scenes
And pouring out is the heartfullness of each and every noted sound

Your work, your will
Both the unconscious free and purchased thrill
All of it being inside yourself
Burns fast to ash and with a flash
Is gone into the nothingness of the still

But God
Being more than free and willing to wield
The honest truth in relation to man
Is outside of the self
Is outside of the endless pleasure wheel

Though redundant as this life may be
To pass over the distant hill
It is in his freedom you most feel
The completeness of his higher will
And may you be therein

For someone who looks so fervently
A sonnet in the sky
You penned for me
Daughter nature
And trust me
Your mother has nothing on you
In this moment you have all of my eyes

First, our bones and then our homes, with fences soon to follow.
Every stone built wall to turn back to the earth.
Like a grave left open every winter, burying itself within the snow.
No child is left to grow into youth when the world turns back into its own.
A collapse isn't always an inward thing.
Just as the inhabitants aren't always meant to inherent what their parents owned.
No life or existence is completely secure.

How hard is it to soar?

When you've set yourself at the bottom of the ocean
Cross-legged on the crossing grains
To wait for different wings to sprout

How hard is it to soar?

the harp of my heart
waits quietly for your breath
breathe into me warm

A man
Falls always from his pen again
And rolls a thought into a distant hand

As stories
Ever meant to pass
Are passed by
With the hope of hopes

That in someone else's world
His words will last

Never forget
Though you will
That you are a mountain
Formed by two forces
Meant to last
Slowly moving
Clearly never
*BUT NEVER STILL

I'm not a well you can just keep drawing water from
I'm not the sky because the rain will not always come

I'm not the earth, I am the opposite
I am a man, I am alive

And I'm in love or could've been
If it hadn't taken you this long to try

I'll trade you

The warm breath of this night in June
To be replaced by the warming breath of you
Just below your fine and fearsome eyes
In such a heartbeat I could be satisfied
Instantly

I'll trade you

Try as ever you
May not be enough this time
As all clocks unwind

There is a dark side
To the brightest coffee moon
In the cup before me now
Which stands alone

Sinking, smiling
Into a napkin brown as dust
Pale as where the snow begins

A desk is a chain
And a door a weight amongst a wait
And yet men and women chain themselves
To merely familiar similar fates
On a daily basis they do base
Their admirations on those without chains
But it couldn’t be
That IT were THEY
That freedom were found in a more free way

I ache
Like a long howl
Out of the wolf of the mouth
Bellowing at a bright moon
Just out of reach
I ache

When you can see the vibrations
On the sanguine strings

When you can soak the sounds
And rinse it from the unsaturated air

When the quiet head fold softly
Falling atop the masters knees without a conscious care

That is when
And their matters not, where

Dark clouds cover cold
Golden hay shines like the Sun
And colors become
One with the grey eternal
A flood of song into one

When you ask or beg saying "please never leave"

Let it not be out of fear or weakness

But out of a desire to have no such other eternity

The wood and stone and plaster we will share
Is unknown to me at present time
But like the stars we will look up at them
And ponder all that was here before
And the time that's been left behind

The deepest thing I ever experienced
...
Was a couch most comfortable
Found in a town which adopted me
Like a native sound
...
And most comfortable now, I be

Bricks cry your shy name
With tearlessly hopeful eyes
Ceiling tiles wooden floors
How they hang unpon your every word
Hooked are they
On the frame of this room
And on you as am I

A man, searching
Finds no door or exit sign
In any amount of word comprised

Instead
He is only found in less of himself
And in more of his God, found alive

A dither of doubt
Doesn't do justice to this

To the self inflicted wound of how

Carved out like wood
And collapsed like stone

The engraving is known
And read often aloud
To a mind bent on listening
To such wavering doubts

Leave me bare as the trees
Born as the flowers
And blue as the summer sky and then
Watch the falling leaves devour the sidewalk clean
Until the ending rain beings to freeze
And falls like feathers
Again and again

I want to be able to say
That I saw you not as you were
But as you could be
As you will be, and would be
That is of course
Only if you desire to be

No amount of organization
Or busyness
Or peace of mind
Can keep you from it

The realizations
Of these
Of this
Of time

Endless and dripping
Reaching from an eternity of ripples
Beneath lakeside pines

Just as no amount of distraction
Can keep you from within
From your own mind

Swallow the moon
Consume the ocean
Kick over the mountains eternally

Fresh like coffee
Old like stars
Picking at teeth with a redwood tree

When he's like this
Standing tall and lean
It's not about HE

It's about the fire and the flames
Fanned insatiably
Finally

For as giants fall like stones in sun
So also will he wreck the earth
Until the valleys and the peaks are one

Leveled
Swallowed
Insatiably

Eater Of Life
Immense
Is he

I could tell you a tale
Of eyes like his or of hair like hers
And how such moved, or was, or is
But this is known
To all imaginations
That the retelling and told
Of an already known
Will not change your life
Though the telling of who
To whom through you
May yet remold
Your life into an amalgamate

When I breathe
You breathe
And when you look past the greening summer trees
I see
Like Julia Stone
That same essence of the world unknown
And still unknown to me

Potsu says what cannot be seen
But what can easily be felt by those around
Resting just in pace
Within the same coffee shop as me

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

Be like chocolate
Not because of the sweetness
Or because of the health implications, no

Be it milky white or dark devoid of light
Be rich like chocolate
How it's void of all time

Because chocolate is always so well received
Often described as full
In the remnants of another person's mind

And to those who are alergic to it
We say how sorry we are for that
Because it tastes so flavorful richly fine

Hurry hurry
Says the human
Grow up fast so that you can live

Slowly slowly*
Says the father
I'm excited to see you
But not that excited to take you

Darker than the shade beneath the heavy trees on a moonless night
So my heart has been when my companion is thee
For we are more different than the sun and the stars
Than the earth and mars
Never to be crossed but ever cross at the universe
For placing us this far apart
You throw me underneath the evergreens
Like the very shade of which you sing
Dark as the midnight hour and cold as the dawn of each new morn
Where not a glimmer of hope has a chance to stay
This is why we both must find another way
To tear ourselves apart from the sky
And to rotate the distance and turn away
Hence why the sunlight and the shade are not the same
For they are the inverse and the opposite
As you and I are night and day

It's like I spend my life
Speeding through rivers
With the occasional wade or float
But when I sit and let the water catch me up
My life no longer flies
Instead the world passes me by
For a change

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.