Would you meet me beneath the smiling moon?
Would you put on your favorite tennis shoes
And walk with me?
Not into it, but through the night

Would you drift here with me side by side
Most innocently?
Just to break with me from the daily grind
Of walking along this followers line?

Could we walk in stride for once in time?
And talk about all the things in life
Which supersede the most basic need
The desire to simply run and hide?

Let the goodness of your lovely thoughts
Wash over me and float with ease
Above the trees until the moon is really smiling
And so am I with an effortless ease

If we could meet beneath the smiling moon
Just for tonight
Would you walk with me?

How quickly the feeble minded forget
About the trials and struggles once offset
By those who have a servants heart

And in handling such people
Who slander you and tear your tedious work apart

The honest response to all of this
Is that this could indeed be considered an art

To kindly withhold with each remark
When you are parted from the comfort of their kind words
Which tend to play out on the stage

How quickly do the others forget
About everything, that is except for their own parts

Fumbling words in the night sky,
Like thunder in the broadest storm.
So you will go down in historic mind,
As not very bright.

Though the stroke of lightning might be me,
You were like thunder above the trees,
Loud, assertive and absolute,
But never available to be seen.

I'm glad such sound was not for me,
And that you passed like a summers night.
Because I have no need for rumbling voice,
Or an ominous noise devoid of light.

I love this

The stillness of a cabin just before it's inhabitants, arise to make the coffee and consume the cakes

Like a breakfast mess of scrambled eggs, so I am mixed, and stirred by this, the stillness found within this place

Like a body of water, asleep at last

Or a wooded edge on a logging trail, finally left to be and pass

So I am also alive and well, inside of these hemlock boards

And for but a moments time at peace

In a place where I can forget my more modern sensibilities

And be taken back to a different time and a different place, where the woods still held their persuasive sway

A power over me

How they'd cast a spell upon my mind, most every time, when I was not as tall as these

Outside and near a different cabin, built by the hands of my father for free

But now, as I look out through the window, it's there I see

Out back, by a semi circle cleared of trees

The stillness found in this good morning, in a different cabin, I am at ease

The truth is that although I speak
I often don't know what to say
Let alone if I ever have an impact
Like a crater on the faceless moon

Most nights my eyes are just too far away
To see the streaming rays of light
Which tumble down unto the earth
To illuminate the everglades where I am found

And though the truth is just ahead
I cannot for the life of me pull it out
Or turn the corner within myself

Because these words are not enough
To represent my heart and mind
And how I feel alive and abound

Roaming round these hollow hills
Excited to hear your latest thought
Least that is the truth as I see it now
As the faceless moon kindly smiles down

Onto the wooded world in mind
How I breathe a sigh when I am found

Rain…
Down…
Hear the sound of my voice as it
Pounds…
Out…
In the rain hear the words as they
Are…
Now…
Mere reminders of who we once
Were...
And how…
There is no time left waiting for
Us…
Now…
So as the voices of rain ever fall
Down…
Would you honor me with your
Reply?
Now?

Just a blind man can have faith
In the firmness of world beneath his bed
So also will I believe in steadfastness of my God
And that I will arise anew each day
To begin again

Perhaps I am mistaken
Perhaps you are not as you seem in the light of day
Glimmering like the Pyrite on the infinite cliff
On the edges of which you keep me, ever at bay
Because after all of the crystal
And shale has been stripped away
And the quartz, the granite, the limestone pale
Have fallen to the earth beneath
To be crushed underneath the walking waves
Perhaps then I will see you shine on a barren day
And my eyes will be better for the sight
Even if your worth is not in gold
But as I fear it might be, in clay

On days like this, I wish she were here. I wish she was already asleep in my bed.

I wish that my sheets smelled more like her hair, and less like the mess that I left there instead.

How I wish, and I wish, like the stars she'd appear, every night, before my eyes, burning crystalline clear.

How I wish and I wish for our future my dear, for a setting in which we would ever draw near.

Yet alone every night only my voice I hear. As I question myself, have I've become what I feared?

Until dusk meets the dawn, wisper words in my ear. Say I miss you my darling, say I miss you my dear.

To be alone is no crime
To be strong like oak
Or to spin like the baler and his twine
Because to be molded is to wait to be broken
Apart by the falling folds of time
To be falling out beside yourself
That is a shame but not a crime

Ours is like a strand of yarn
Stretched across a narrow gap
Though the wind berates
And the rain pours out in the summer storm
It will not break, it will endure
But perhaps in time will sag and fray
As if we let it so to go
Or even chose to cut it down
Because you have your own phone lines now
Made of woven steel and unbroken arms
As we were just a childhood yarn
Or a single strand between two hearts

It doesn't matter how sweet I am, or how kind I feel that I have to be. All that really matters to me is you, and how based on me you will perceive,

The other men, the other shoes, the many soles slowly passing by. The kind of guys which you might keep, and even ultimately try.

But I hope you see what is truly weak, after sharing such strong arms as these. I hold you now, but not in hand. I hold you still in great esteem.

If only you would esteem yourself, you'd walk on surer, more stable feet. Not into the arms of a tragedy, but into the future which you deserve. Holding tight to a steadier hand than me.

Depends upon the day, the place
The amount of light through the southern panes

Based upon the subtle shades
Around my neck and through my veins

Rolled up like sleeves, a comfort to me
With a crisp cold lip and a floor wiped clean

Oh, yes
There is no step close enough to see

But it depends upon such things as these
The none, the less, the purpose of me

Lonesome tree,
Left to stand in a field of green.

You are as free as free can be, at least as much as a tree can be.

You’re the sole survivor of a proud oak line,
And the tallest timber I’ve ever seen in this area of the countryside.

Only you have lived long enough to see the red sunrise.
The lidless moon and the eye of the storm sent by the sea.

It baffles me, that you a tree, would watch over a farmer and his family.
Your rightful and natural enemy, who pushes the plow beneath your feet.

Surrounded by a society which cuts down all of your company,
Just to build and sow with lesser seeds.  

And yet you, the mightiest of trees, refuse to pack up root and leave?
Refuse to let yourself be twisted by the progress of humanity.

Why are you doing this?

I guess no greater love exists,
Than to share your shade with your enemies.

Thank you for this, oh lonesome tree,
You are a symbol of life to me.

Desperately
Wishing only to feel I will seek
For the sake of being able to keep
My feelings alive and at peace
Like an undisturbed meadow I sleep

In the presence of shimmering lights
That have risen from flowers to be
Tiny torches which light up the night so that my eyes could see

Be it only the shadowing trees
Or the neighboring meadows at ease
My eyelids will wither and seep
To the base of my hollowing cheeks

In my ears are the rustling leaves
Singing softly of lingering peace
So like the last autumn breeze
Would you blow through my life
Bring me peace

Wake me up to the sound of the trees
Hear the hum of your heart as it beats
In a pattern known only to me
In my mind you were always with me

Standing by hoping that we could be
In the moonlight in which we could see
The bright stars in the sky and the fires of the far galaxies

Dry your eyes on the willows which weep
Hear my voice in the summery breeze
For it’s here you will find every remnant of me
Every word which I wrote on the leaves

And perhaps in due time you will see
Tiny torches afire like me
How they fade and ignite every night
Though my light never burned aimlessly

Pinwheel,
Clock work,
Chronoshift me into blue.

Skyline,
Ocean eyes,
Color me a different hue.

Liquify,
Shatter me.
Meld me out of broken glass,

Enter me,
Exit please,
Fore the present comes to past.

I close my eyes above my salad
Nobody here can see
Praying that God would keep her well
And take care of her
Be it well away from me

In my weakness
He is strong
Far mightier than oak and stone

And though I do not understand myself
He does
And for some reason knows

About about all of the things I do to distract
Just to keep myself
From the sinfulness in these decaying bones

And so I wait for this feeling to pass
Though I know the truth
I am not, though I feel, alone

Because in that moment
When no human hand can steady you
Where then my friend, are you going to go?

As for me, I know that I will go back
To the one true God
Who existed long before this earth was home

Did you know?
That greatest couple
Ever left for alive
Are estranged in the sky?
Barely glancing, never seeing
They're now just a hint
A reflection within the other's eyes

Although, back in their more youthful days
Oh boy, oh boy, were they alive
Burning with passion and cooling with shade
Ever imprinting looks on each other's minds

But now only shade is ever thrown at the shine
Because the two original lovers are estranged in the sky
And ostracized to a life on high

What is the greatest mystery known to man?
On any rock, be it this one or the next?
Making male minds skip at times, like tracks
And yet most always welcoming, whenever it is that they want you back
Never mind the initial question in mind, need I even ask?

Back when I was in love with things or so I thought
I was far too agreeable to everyone
And I often tasted the bitter sting when someone else forgot who I was
But really what I didn't understand was the impermanence of things
How my opportunities were limited
And how I shouldn't care so much about what other people think
I should've just breathed in and been exactly as I was meant to be
How I should've savored the moments back then
Before the truth of life could find me
And sink my feet into reality

As if deep in sleep, devoid of dreams.
It's the simple way you caress the words, which inspires me.

To write and reach, yet fall short of you.
Though your tongue paints such a vivid scene.

How could I not try and partake?
How could I not wish it to be?

I'd reach my hand through glass for you,
Just to give you words from within me.

The sky above him layered in
Like waves upon the shoal
And all the mountains knew his name
And he their waving roll

The earth beneath his treading feet
Turned stones like mortal coils
And all the footprints knew his path
And depth above the soil

His shoulders stood above the trees
A crown of stars his ears
And all the shadows couldn't bear to see
Nor stand beneath him in fear

Beyond no borderlings he'd step
Unless his heart was called
And with him birds would often sing
And perch on him their wall

As the waterlilies craved his touch
So to mortality, he was bound
And then off the earth one day he walked
Never again to be found

But still the memories of mid-earth
Hold fast in root and stem
For once a guardian walked this way
As a tree with a beard of men

I'd write a town into existence for you
If you'd just end my agony
And let me be
Me

Steady shadows wince
At the sunrise smiling wide
Seeing it's lover
Saying casual goodbyes
To it's famed fling named goodnight

Regarding the snow
I hope we get hammered
I hope we get hit

I hope that the wind just blows and blows
Yet cannot decide which way to go
When carrying for us the blessing of snow

How I hope to get home
And get off these roads
Be it into a ditch
That way for a moment
That way for a bit
I would be left alone
Be it just for a minute

And if you're smiling now
Then you can relate to this
So get going dear related
Before the roads turn to slick

How I hope and hope with an honest heart
That we would see storms
Of magnificent art
Capable of incapacitating the means to work
At least in part

It's the little things in life
Which can slowly crush the soul
The will to fight, the old desires
Ever changing and growing older

Be it in the misunderstanding
Or the mistreatment of others
Or the values to which you so preciously hold

I find its better to take the time
To reshape the clay
Rather than to let yourself be bothered
By the deconstruction of your most beloved mold

When Fabienne plays the harmonica
In that gently abiding way
My head turns ever so slight with memory
And my eyes gleam anew with river sheen
Walking down a path called contentment
I smile, and for a moment stay

She is everything I wish to be mine
I can attest to the aptitude of her body
Like the wave of her hair as she passes by
But I've yet to confirm the hope within
That being her true lovelliness of mind

Dear rainstorm you are most comfortably mine
Like the only thing I truly own in this world
You fall without effort and land with ease
You represent the way of falling in which I should be
Direct, inline, yet flexible
Fearless and fast whilst in between the earth and sky
Like a middle ground which quickly descends into inevitability
So my life is as short as a rainstorm in the summertime
But I will crack my thunder and lightning each night
To illumliminate the sky for a time
Just for a moment on this earth
I'll shine most bright

I'm waiting in a dark room
When it would be brighter just outside
I speak and sing, but sound nothing like a tune
And I hope that my ears, and especially my eyes
Never fully adjust to this life of mine

Because I am waiting on the receiving end
Of an empty and uncertain line
Like a phone cord wrapped around my wrist
I tell myself that it’s no crime
To wait for what I hope would be mine

I am fire.
I am fury.
I am explosions in the sky.

For now at least.
For as surely as the sun will rise, my short lived ignitive spark will fly, off into the nothingness of space and time.

Eternity.

And only the memory will remain.
Until that too dies.
First and foremost with me.

I am the arrows which once did fly, directly into the hearts of the king's enemies.

Two Things

I want to close that book as if I never looked
Like it never existed in the library of life

Or I want to compile so many kind words, beautiful and bright
That they outshine and shone any memory in the sky

And then, only then, will that book not have to be burned to die

I feel the cold inside my fingers
Trying to turn them into Steel
Like notches on an arrowhead
My joints will not yield
To the bending ways of the steering wheel

Metal and plastic, ice and ore
Barrel beneath my soaking shoes
And I the driver of this Ford
Try desperately to warm
Be it not to you

I see the way
My father’s arms
Are wearing out
And breaking down
Underneath this daily weight
And I am afraid
Of my own day
Which is yet to come
But will not stay away

Certain songs
Set off steps

Satin steps
Across the wall

Climb the house
From the inside out

Fred, my friend
You out rotate them all

Walk slow
Think fast
Tilt your head
Slightly back

Focus in
Fade out
All the noise
From the crowd

Step back
Seek out
Breathe in
And out doubt

Process
This now
Focal point
Is how

I don't say this much, but that's stupid
To waste your life creating things for someone else
When really all that I create is to learn about myself
To understand the other half, of the other side, of the other me
And to create something so foolishly
And to think that it represents most perfectly
Whatever it is that I did see
That perhaps was stupid of me

No one sees me when I smile
Wider than my eyes can bear
Cooler than the coolest spring
Which you could find within this muggy summer air
Because when I grin
There is no sense of urgency or care
There is only me and my eyes which crease
Like folded paper flying through the humid air  
For my smile is this
Not because I wish to hide it
Or even because I overly care
But because my purest form happiness
Is only seen when not prepare
Alive and well in its natural state
Most often outside and always wide
Something you might see across my face
As a representation of what's inside*
(:

If the blindingly cold winters of the north, could say just one thing to her in part.
It would be that she, a southern belle, knew not of the warmth of this gentleman's heart.

Thoughts which echo
Like the sounds of Ray LaMontagne
Through the somehow and the same
Bounce back and off these northern stars
And slowly fall
Down beneath our feet, this hilly plain

Cold meat, processed cheese, making my lunch for another day*
Rolled up sleeves
Empty sheets
No one in my bed to sleep with anyway

And at work I find no reward to adore, and after driving home
I cannot help but work some more
Mostly favors of art because I'm poor

Yet no matter how busy I like to keep
I always manage to find some time
To stray into topics too often, too deep
Like what it would be like to be with her in mind

Though most every night I see my brothers, whisk their brides to be away
*It's with every dawn that I am reminded, that my life will not always be this way

My temples ache inside my head
With a need to be without a thought
No one to speak what cannot be said
My quiet calm forget me not

A storm I carry on my back
Midst howling gale and winters plot
A weighted mass atop me sits
An eerie calm forget me not

A flame of hope inside I keep
To thaw that frozen long forgot
Until the first light left is last
A chilling calm forget me not

Though slowly do the seasons pass
These words embed like branded hot
So be it present or in past
Remember still and *forget me not

She is nothing more
Than a playlist in a database
Which I never adored

Stored away in an ancient file on an aged server
But the list remains there anyway
Be it out of respect

So you need not worry about such a voice
Interjecting itself back into my life

When the truth is that
I know the sound which a whole heart makes
And hers was fragmented
By the pain which she always put on repeat

You think I'm used to being me?
You think I'm comfortable in these shoes?
Walking time and time again,
Down that old hallway, without you?

Well I'm not.
But ironically enough
No longer do I expect you
Or anyone for that matter
To tell me how to be myself

To tell me which shoes to buy or to wear
Because I simply walk
As I once was taught
And always will

To stride alongside with a loving air
Until I find the most tolerable pair, of shoes
The most close to comfortable I can bear

By which I mean of course
A very inspiring and impressive pair
Because a man needs good walking shoes
If he is to live his life some-wear

Struck speechless
Stretched for words I am
As I have never been
This close to you
And all I can do I can do is grin