I'm not at sea
We're not at war
At all more happy about what's been
The ships which set sail over again
On the same old breath of tired wind

I'm a man inland
And as we once were here
So long ago before we stood
Watching the storm creep in
Sweeping softly over limestone cliffs

And with this I remember
Like the clear day fore Michaelmas
Before the storm sets in
When we were back then

Again

If the tides of hatred ever crashed, over my heart with such ferocity, that I cannot swim or dry off their lasting affects therein. Then I will quit this concrete race to the death, and die on my own terms further within. Though my only friend be this inland wind. Somewhere there where the spray of a freshwater fray, is more friendly to me than a million duplicitous greetings beside. And so away from the edge of the earth I fly.

In this prominence
Om·ni·pres·ence
On a cathedral I stand
Beneath the oceans breath
And fly without thinking of these stars
Which are but fireflies in the meadow around
I am bigger than galaxies
Older than thoughts
And more aware of being than we've ever been

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

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.

When everything is in order, set
And stones are smooth as rivers run
It is then, and in, I expect will forget
The endless coming of undone

But no
Not yet
For a hundred years more
I will remember, learn, to just let the coming of set

No order will ever
Last

Nothing demotivates the soul
Like safety
Keeping you from the wind beneath your feet
The wings beneath your shoulders felt
Just as weeds, the weeds, grow ever still
In their moving way they never break
And our human plot of life is to take
Our hands to the earth in constant misery
Knowing that all things will grow
Both around us and through
All things inevitably will come due

And the earth will continue on, probably long after me
Spinning

Hear my voice when you read me
For when I write you I see words
And in knowing such, share
Being delivered about a week later
By a parcel service called self aware

I knock at my own door
For more than me
My closely held tiny dancer
I knock knowingly
Allowing you to listen in and answer

Hear my voice when you read me

Its shoulders back
And back bent
Until time breaks will
And perpectives are know

It is more than talk
Or act or deed alone
It is more than anything
Which could ever be

It is trust and in trust
It is faith within hope
It is family over honor
Facing known and unknown

And in due time
It is the requirement
That both father and son are willing
To let go

Among the many things which I welcome
   Your legs over mine
   My head atop yours
There is nothing more valuable
   Than that which I can give
   DAILY
   Being then myself
   More than time itself
Along with all that which I adore
   Comes me

The night sky lays out on its trampoline bed
With all it's stars and nebula friends
Looking down into eyes
Streaming looks pouring out
In admiration it is thus
How the night sky wishes upon us
That it had such strong feelings felt

The sky envies my friends
It told me so

Howling on the inside
Moon above alive
Tonight in luminescent essence
Amongst the ever ending happiness
The will to be there for
And therein search of her
Tonight
I do not have a lover
But if I did I'd be missing her

Ilsa didn't see the stars
She . was . the . sky
And held the starlight gently in her ever glistening eyes

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

when doubt turns back
from gray to blueish hue
the earth itself stops son from spinning
and in directional ways found
bounds down like fog over the mountains
(anew)

turns on its end like the books overthrown
by shifting night and confusing gloom
you were there and saw
the night when it first went missing
(the moon)

and if anyone besides me heard it first
(it was you)

Cackling above the trees like a crow
Above the earth
(which will not grow)

the look beyond
which turns away
is there
(at the end of all our exploring)

Perfectly, flawlessly, lost
Still lost

Quietly, solemnly, sleeping
Still wake

Notably, publicly, making
Still waste

We are dying, arriving, and truly
Too late

Guided like the steady light
Which call out
Over the vast ocean darkness of mind.
Clearing clouds in a single bound
With skying hopes
And ever leaving leaves
Falling out of favor now.
And down
Quickly towards the earth
Where I am brought back  
When your night
It ends.
As with sentiments drawn
Renewed embued.
Are you more than just the light persistent?  
Hiding above the sun's inevitably found?
Or are you the guiding
Winding
Downward stars?
Don't leave me now
My heart abound.
Without your light
I'd be in lost.

Tampering like a kitten string
   Like a ball of yarn, I am, unwound
And in sinking now
   Into a bath of bygone grace
Of comings, and goings, and beings, and nothings
   As of made last night, late decisions by candles, unsound
Here in my weakness, drying, stretching out
   My tired mind unveiled to you
Go ahead with enjoyment
   My indulgence, go ahead
And have fun with me now

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

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

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?