As Fitzwilliam was
And said
Now I've only to be ashamed of what my own have been

From a distant place
Your echo reaches me here
At this length
Like a drum in my ears
Your memory kiss reverberates
And shakes my very soul of souls
Creating in me a sound of old
Which slowly fades
And with anticipation
Waits
To hear the breath of all which once was told
Next yours my present face

There is willingness
And there is want
And the lack thereof, one from the other
Is noticeable
A sign of impending doom
And gloom
And if so, you’d best not try
You'd best not move lest you fail to pass
The test of passing time

Carousel clouds, spin

In skies of unnatural,

Colorful being.

Until onenness felt, is

Of carnival earth beneath

A thinking boy needs a thinking girl. Someone who knows some of, but not the sum of, what is in his or her own head.

It's the doubt which grows in the back of your mind
That you're on the wrong side of the road
That you're going to collide
But not with fate
But head on with an eternity of unkind

Side by side are different directions
Same road and minds

You invade my dreams
Mix with the past

Sounding like an angel
That's not you

But whatever it is
It's holding fast

The greatest trap of all for mankind
Is that of being and not being
And when there is no God
Not being begins to look awfully friendly

Desire of being
Give me your name
And a photo to match so that I can see past
The flatness of this absent meaning
Give unto me
Please
Be

Close your eyes
Stand in the river
Let all of the waters whip past you by
Though you be made of similar materials found
You are no less running
Ever moreso alive
Than the current to be found around
Let the waters pass you by

This morning
Grey thunderclouds
Fell on my morning horizon of hope
And I, half asleep still
Could hardly note anything
Less than try

So I did

My desire for you
More than anything
Is that you'd be at peace beneath these eaves
That you could sleep more deeply than the sea
And dream, oh baby that you could dream
Of the distant starlight you can barely see
My desire for you
More than anything
Is that you'd be my most comfortable everything

How quickly we confer
Judgment upon those people
Who are not ourselves

Whole people
Like whole oceans and mountain ranges

Broken people
Just like ourselves

Who are we to judge and to bestow
Such hasty blows  
Upon such people

The stars
To me
Are so close
Tonight
That I forget
The distance
Of you

You always remember the last time
Iconicized within your mind

Think back to when it was actually then
And you'll find it out over and over again

Like a slowing dance
With contented sigh
You can hear the fond memories rolling by
At a gradual pace

Be it in truth to pass
Or in feelings which last

There is the feeling of first
And the memory of last

More than anything
It's not a home that I want
Nor people within
Or stuff
Or responsibility
No
It's the freedom of such
The desire to begin
And the standing memory which I've yet to know
Which drives my heart forward
Like a turning car
Racing and ever
Towards new ends

Fog like mountain eyebrows, hovering above the area of Earth which splits between the snowy ground.

A train to steep the far side of the valley, and the other now filled with the exiting towns.

And I the traveler between the two heights. Wondering how and why this fog stays this way around.

Holding onto you
And your thoughts
Is like water dripping
Through me and my hands

Pull me out of the threads
Like a ragdoll willing
Almost excited to climb the cotton mount
And fall with goose feathers down

Sacrifice a fruit on the alter of passion
But do not deny me this one little thing
This basic, simple, moment left
To let my head fall ever down

And when I wake from such a falling out
And my time spent surfing on goose feathers runs out
Would you bend the rules of time for me?
Would you unwind the clock with parts ferocity on the ground?

Because even if you must
I beg of you
I plead
Please don't make me wakeup to this morning now

The end
A poignant secret
See

You're my type of breeze
The height of trees
Whispering in the arms of wind

Look at me in turn
And see only this second
Passing eyes meet

Just about everything you worry about
Is not about
And does not matter

It's the things you don't see
And do not worry about

Those are the things that you have to watch out for

Why do we stare into the mirror?
Why do we turn away from a cosmic gaze?
Wanting crowns, but afraid of being kings?
But why?
Because we humans do not know the depth of things
Though we like to think we do

It is the dance before the long dance
With music played for two
With one a mask, and one unmasked
We linger still
Until the truth of the song is renewed

I used to write here
Craft in these corners
Scoff at these walls
Scratch at the stars, like a lottery ticket, when the world was young
When my own structures were seemingly falling apart
How I laboured without toil
Spinning spun without thread
How tired was I, as a peice of myself, with leaps and bounds from cloud to cloud
When I was no older than the dirt beneath
How the tired me, trod this distant ground into my own history
Until it was more familiar and resound
In memory, as it is now

I dream
Of the shadows we would cast
And in moonlight drape ourselves
And make
The flowers we'd align with rain
As we celebrate
The no more of snow
And the frozen pond on which we'd skate
For no less than an eternal day
Like sunlight to hold
Close until we have our own
End of night alight
Sleeping in each others confidence
Without even being awake
And I
Cannot, will not, wait
At least to dream
Of these such things
And in other words make dreams
Of another heighted sky alive

The bare earth
The scratched skies
The predictable people midst their ponderous lives
And I live to see them over time
As they progress towards somethingness
Towards no outcome which will leave any of us
Alive

The lover on the other line
Who whispers nothings
Literal nothings
Isn't real

She's just the memories which
I'm inclined to think about
And yearn to kiss
Again and again

Experiential and sensation
Mixed with a desire to connect
A wonder regarding where its going
And very much
The fear that I'll forget
Scribble, scribble, scrawl it quick
The moment turns like a television set
Onward with the next