Sitting on a mountain top
On a sliver of rock
As jagged as the pointing edge of the west
Indefinitely, is the earth beneath me
For I do not know how long this will last
But I know that I will sit and wait
For the sunrise of my youth to finally pass
Not because I fear the day that’s been or will be
But because I am smarter than the shadows
Which will not outlast the light

I know when I am kept at length
I feel it still

The distance between
The shortness of breath
The memory of such

Did you know that such things never escape me?

Like the way in which you used to be
How you used to breathe
So...openly

Just know that this change is not insulting to me
But speaks more firmly than any word
And more clearly than any crystal stream

So I need not ask if I may drink
I simply cannot
Nor am I capable of thinking beyond

For that is how you have made this to be
Quiet again
And short without sweet

And thus, I am left
Disappointed in myself
For sharing like this
So....unabashedly

How I feel like a child standing beside a rapid river
Raging onward
How it runs and swells and passes by my confidence, quickly it flees

For in my mind comparatively
We were the same in prior days
Like a mountain stream
Clear and crisp

But now, just know that I must learn to flow more cautiously
In order to be and protect myself 
Remaining as is

For this is how it must now be
Directional, proportional
Or at least based on what I've seen
For therein grows a greater distance between
And greater still

And I will not pay
I will not suffer
When your attention in such moments
Is no longer free, to the likes of me

So here I lay the honest truth
In an honest statement, without plea

The height of the stars
The depths of the ocean
The colors of the flowers
And the warmth of a summers morn
No human heart nor hand to hold
Is responsible for making you
Feel with such feelings as these adorn

Those two are like jazz
In both song and spirit
Full of unexpected twists and turns
Highs and lows
Peaks and valleys
Moors and mist

Cool blue turns calm dusk
To hopeful still and quiet
As warm well lit dawn
Arrives in full force of arms
To carry tired lovers torn

Loneliness is the realization that all of your friends and family have married. Long before you have tamed and owned your own expectations regarding reality.

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

True reflections appeal to me
Like the churning waters of the Atlantic
I am lost amidst the vastness of this deep blue sea

I think therefor I am and hope that I will ever be
A clever well of reflective waters
The kind that people always seek

And yet I search for you in streams
Because I thirst and need to drink
Your words in deep which comfort and compose the likes of me

No other soul will see you shimmer neath the snow capped mountain peaks
And so I stoop to catch your fragrance
And drink you in a draught so deep

-SS

Sometimes it’s alright to let nice people be nice
To leave your preconceived notions by the side of the road
To let your pride slowly die
In a shallow grave alone

Sometimes it’s alright
To not voice your most negative feeling heard
Or to be so insufferable
And upset at the world
  
Just as in time you may find
That unassuming and kind
Is even easier still
When you do not your worst

Have you tried?
Are you aware?
Or have you already made up your mind?
To be this same old insufferable version of worst

Drop a smooth stone in a pond
And no one sees the ripple
Skip a stone on a running river
And the ripple is consumed

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

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

You cannot see me
Hear aloud
Though here I am regardless

Consisting of the why in wind
Though I may howl
And crash upon the sudden leaves

I am still
The whispering in the hear and now

The struggles and vices of another.
Are no less genuine to them, than you are to your own.

For we all have scars, and struggles, and little selfish lies.

The kind of thoughts that say that THIS or THAT or HE or SHE...will satisfy.

When they will not. And you know it.

The nature of intensity is like an eclipse in the sky
Most memorable
Most vibrant
Most unique to others
But no less alive than the prior tries
No
The trick is in the duration
Just for a moment
A certain time
That is what in the mind’s eye remember
What makes the instive memory shine

Is there truly strength in knowing?
I used to think so, so knowingly
When really the strongest person
Is the one who does know, doesn't run
And doesn't worry about such
Knowingly

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

You are the girl across the yester year
Like a memory bound town
Vague as watery days spent in summertime swimming pools

And now, we have the same ears for similar sounds

The same ears for similar sounds

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

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

There is no green bright enough
In all the trees
Or in every sea
To tell of how envious I am of you

No matter how hard we fight...
Natures rain falls regardless...
Even if we hide.

I love the warmth of heart as a home run is hit in the July heat.
The simmer on the weathering skin by the Carolina beach.
The grilling asphalt beneath the feet of the inquisitive kid.

But above all of this, both prestated and said.

I love the old worn wintery ways, the weathery, the cold and gray.
Where the days are as short as the ticks of a clock.
And the words turn slower somehow in due time.
Like the mirror's edge, I end and yet, know that I age a little less in the wintertime.

Justice isn't yours to challenge
Observe the only change with ease
It's best to simply let it be
As when you're not involved
In the sinfulness of it all
Don't let your mind wander for even a second
Instead be free, smile and flee

A cylinder of burning flame, standing tall in the dead of night.
With wisping smoke and warming waves I radiate.
Emulating the fires of old, which charred the brick and mortar stone of a fireplace.
Like the flames which gave you first your warmth, turn now to me.
A fiery ember burning fast, a glutton for your oxygen.
My lifeless love will ever last.
Until the waters poured upon me turns the lye from Phoenix ash.
I am your love.
Your lonesome fire.
A comet in the sky to pass.

-SS

Licking the cider off my ice cubes
I'm in love with words
And the sights of you which I've yet to see

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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 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

If you are the dawn
Awake and alive
Then I am the moment of the day which breaks
And turns into the bitter night

My own masked by starlight
Your left alone crowned with a sparkling retina alive

It's to you that I turn
At the end of all things
When the day first began to realize its own light

We are young and alive
Ever ready to strive
Towards the hours invested within, without sight

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

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

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