To pull your sleeves down
In the midst of summer
Is not to fear the heat
But to aspire to be
The greatest form of indoor mind
Which you could possibly be
So once they're at length
And at your wrists alive
Don't worry
Just be
And don't freeze

The most beautiful essence of memory
is the breeze.

The most powerful beat of the drum
is the heart.

The thunder paints colors in my ever clouding head,
and rumbles to be heard once again with ease.

In all of your astounded ears, surreal, would you please?
I wish to be whole and not in part.

It's not that opinions
(much like rushed sculptures)
Are always unattractive
But it's the forceful hatred behind the hands
Which makes me sick of seeing the resurfacing you
Over and over
Again and again

And yet in this stage of life
I dont hate you
Nearly as much as you hate them

"You know me
I'm just like you"
Said the street to the moon
One reflective night
We are the same kind of vanishing day
And with a weary stroll
Against our own better judgement
We fight

Sometimes
We all shine
Be it from powered stars or reflective moon
Out of conscious or uncommon try
Or peculiarity of mind
Well all are
At least capable of such kind emergence

I know no pain
No ache or throb
Quite like the morning after life
The day after the perfect night
Which has gone into the bitter dawn

No walking coffee can salvage me
From such a feeling
Such a wrong

I am
Tired

As
a sign
Sometimes
it all goes right
The stars don't align
but I feel them nonetheless
And for a moment life's duress is but a memory
To me, as I live and burn in this present candlelight
Though sometimes the evening is even darker than the night
And I crash into the atmosphere of a more realistic Me
Like a lonely poet who never shares his paint
Like a bygone song no instrument will play
And in burning I retreat
to the halls of sleep
Sometimes
I am far
away

(Even though it seemed to be the perfect day)

Were I to be
Even an inconstant breeze
In the sails of your chest
Occasionally
I would never be lacking
In joy or breath
Or in breathing or sense
I would never be without
Or separated from want of
This breathy desire

The way you wear clothes is killing me slow

Snow knows no depth
Nor showers embrace
Like the sea at peace
Or the rivers mid run

For the coldest thing
Ever moreso than
These distant relatives embrace
Is this coffee in hand

It is happily so

[chilled to perfection]

From the day I first sat
     in that shallow class
Picking up a pen full of emotion
     to disperse
I never once thought
     (consciously)
Or planned to leave
     (this earth)
So many millions of words
So many thousands of verse

I pretend - And with infatuations paint at life
         with colors sound
         until this be known
To all those wishfully waiving trees
          who choose to grow
          in such close proximity to me  
That the secret is - I’ll never know what I want to be

I don't want much
Or need another to hold my hand
There's not much left to be found of us
(Thank God)
I just want to taste
I just want to be able to smell the sky again

How far does the waning songbird ring
How unheard of long the song which calls you home

you know?

How can I hear
Past the noise of all beings
?
If my own being cannot be
In quiet breathing
?
I can't
.

It’s been a long time since
the sound of you came back to me
In an echo so fierce like the roaring trees
and embedded deep itself within wooded mind

Albeit growing towns and in doubt maybe
You are still eternal in stillness and air
Like moth wings ever felt unseen
and mulled ciders reckoning

Like a street vendor fair
How you always unroll the sidewalks clean
and walked out of us as far as eyes could be seen
Until carnival sounds were at backs and finally at ease

How the sound of you came back to me
without so much as a whisper spent
On this, these prattling autumn trees
No songs remind or need I see

Starlight doesn’t fall
It eases into atmospheres
And shines in mirrored eyes alive
Like all the sand-glass in the shoaly seas
And the crystallizing clouds in the winter skies

Just as all of this is in
Her eyes

People forget how deep it is
Till the ocean looks back at them
Intently from beneath the cliff

Life was once to me
A slate to chisel
Frame to feign
With stars the occasional to see, unfelt
When really
As an owl
I never knew a sunrise word until I stopped seeing the morning

I just want to sit somewhere. And drink coffee with no-one. Until my thoughts are renewed, and my feet spring alive with a new thread of carbon.

With tears
To preface rain
She said
"I don't know why I feel what I feel but I feel it"

You speak
And I hear my beliefs
Together
Is a powerful thing to be
Be it only in hope and sight

Does a new wind ever blow or die?
From the same fountain of cloud which has alway given?

In a upward lifting thought of sky
Is the dream relentless?
Or is it just the same day which we've all been living

I ask because I wonder why

Is this the new beginning?