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

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

For old times sake
Old minds sake
Rewind and scratch the sidewalk
With a wingtip gliding by fake
With old kitten lips pressed to the reed
And the quiet patter of kickdrum feet
Would you play it one more time for me?
With the chattering of Ivory teeth nearby
Would you let the Cool Jazz river run deep?

Erupt
Explode into a blue crater
And mushroom cloud
Into a condensed atmosphere

Turn no more
Than a morning clock
But simmer still
In firey fear

Warm heat
Cold whisps
In a circling mixing
Upward fall

Dark coffee
Napalmed into cream
To the taste responsible
To call

How deep is a puddle?
Underneath the sky
Atop the earth
And soaking into the dirt beside the rugged asphalt

Created beside the hand of man
How it reaches in
Just to stir itself into a frenzy

How it seeks to meddle and mend the crooked stream
From its own perspective  
When the preference is not to wind but to align

For this I say
Unto the man
Who holds the line
With his elbows locked and intertwined

That a winding way is not a way
Or a challenge from the immortal hand
It's just a steam of the natural
It's just the earth trying to begin again

Pulling the water back to the sea
To grind the eternal rock to sand

Ever so slowly

And this is why
Directly beside your creation
The puddles began

No soulmate exists
For a man such as this
No soulful hands grasping to find

For as long as such choice
Has been given unto us
Noone trusts souls enough ere to find

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

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

Dispell all fears
By writing them on rounded rocks
By crushing your own selfish doubt
And walking on the pieces beneath
Until the uncertainty stops

This is how you change the eyes
First you change the mind abrupt

A surgeon reaches down a path
And walks out with the heart of the woods

Be it beating slow or beating fast
The hikers pray
That the woodlot surgeon puts it back

In the heart of it
Where the woods still belong

Strong...as they once grew strong

A minds way is but a clouded fog...
When you let yourself lose self in full.

When no path is left to be tread at all...
A right way in past is awaiting you.

Falling is either a joke
Or just that
A fall

No tripping or catching
When you fall
You fall

The best secret place
Is built so as never to be found
By anything but a path shown
By leaves brushed away on the ground

A tiny bit of me
Still believes
In the ounceless weight
Of our slowly dying dream
Falling like the stars
Occasionally in mind and eyes

Say not
That I let my emotions seep
Like a sidewalk stream
Down a sewergrate
No
Instead let it be said
That whatever I felt
Evaporated clearly under the sun
To return to that cloudy head of mine
Up in the sky

I’m afraid of walking down this road.
Terrified that one day I will not be able to go back and smell the flowers.
That all of the beautiful scenes of my youth will have passed.
And that I somehow did not designate enough time,
To hold them close, to see them clear, and somehow make them truly last.
I’m fearful of roads, because of that.
And I fear how quickly underneath my feet they seem to pass.
Created by these human hands, designated by men, and traveled by kings.
The fear of walking down such roads too quickly,
Is most definitely a haunting thing.

A home is not HOME
Unless you choose it to be
Even if you had
At one point in time
You must again
Or it's just another USE TO BE

Herb
Root
Stem and tree
More beautiful is the turn of your hair
The bend of your neck
Than a winding lane
You are more than these

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

Emerald eyes
Consuming flowers
One crowned with white nobility
One being still
Endlessly
Taillessly
Timelessly
Devoured

From the moment I wake
And stop breathing haste beneath ceiling fans
How I wish to create
Though I cannot always due to morning fog
And its mind over me
How it strongly takes
Two cups at least

Green
Growing
Not like the heart
Red with eternity
Ever slowing
Dying slowly
Like the sun
Is the knowingness
Of the dead leaves
Be near to me
Be evergreen
Growing
*Knowing
Thinking of these

A touch of gold caresses your hair
Yesterday's youthful exuberance
I cut a few locks from the world
And linger in your presence, still
Wishing only that you'd stay awhile
To bask in our mutual reverence

All I have to give
All I have to spend and invest
All that is left
All that has been
And all that has past
Flows by me like a river now

Listen as you may and may try
Though you may never hear it howl
Because like death in the night
It smiles wide at last
As it takes away with a cold hand
The moments as they seemingly pass

Because we cannot bend nor deny
The inevitability of the next day
Though we can regret and fondly remember
The memory of those days gone by  

Why you may ask is all of this
An inevitability and not such a crime?

Well that would be because we are human
And it is the inevitability of time

It’s existence just like yours
Is no crime upon humanity

It simply is like you
Passing into eternity

You
Decide to start and never stop
And years later
When the memories of life pile up around you
Like the books beside a crowded shelf
You learn to be content with where you are
As compared to where you could be
Because fame is not to be desired
No, fame is to be pitied
Because you didn’t start for fame
And you didn’t continue for fame
And if you did you are a fool for fame
Because you became what you became
Because you already were
You

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

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

It can pierce a veil of darkness
Unravel like the extension of an arm
And seep, deep into folds of the extreme
Coloring the simple walls of where we've already been
And in your eyes I can see it still
Like the warming sentiments of summer
As the winter ground reflects it all around
Because inside is where the light bends
And without break it begins a sound

She is a portrait in my mind
A canvas of flesh and blood
With an ink stain upon her chest
Where her heart still beats steadily
He life turning like the ocean
Her eyes as stead as the water underneath
She is a portrait and yet a friend of me
And by the sea she will always be

No rain has left my eyes like this
For many present days

No water puddling beneath
No need for mist

But today...
Today one raindrop fell to my right

And for the life of me
I couldn't wish it away

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

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

Ask me not
The question I most want to ask
The letter never sent which flies
And falls apart between the lines
You think I'm scared of you?
No, not scared...
I'm terrified

The wild sigh
How it wavers and whips
Through the freshly cut sky
No man to see
Or to follow it
As it flees
And it fly's
Like a harvest scythe
Beneath the gentle breeze
It cracks
And whips
Stiring the sleeping mouth beneath
With it's shadowy eyes
How the fisherman
Doth crave the catch
So also does escape
The fly

Pencils pray not to be picked
Brushes roll away and hide
Conversations intentionally aim and miss
Ivory keys pretend not to be alive
The original concept grows wings on the wine
The original truth tries it's best to lie
And I am the one who is for want of all practice
Never let it be said that I never tried

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 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

Contrast
Is a fine line
I walk everyday
Goodfellow and me
Precariously

There's no back and forth
Left to be found here and when
All around are done

Echo
In an empty room
No sun is there but you

Smile
At a day of gloom
No cloud escapes the moon

Wither
At a daily pass
No dream was meant to last

Wild
As the dreams may be
No one will last for me