So beautiful, so very fair.
On a man made breeze wavers golden silk.

Extravagant each strand of hair.
So intent, with soft intense.
A gentle look to show how quietly she cares.

For or not for me remains to be seen.
And yet beautifully she looks at the silver screen,
In such a way which is beyond compare.

Her eyes of blue as summer streams.
Her thoughts obscured,
But her smile maintains a certain air.

Quietly I catch a glimpse of the unseen breeze.
Ever fading, hard to find,
And beautiful beyond compare.

You shake me, because of you.

You hold me, not with arms available, but in captivation.

You fear me, perhaps not because of me, but because of who I am becoming.

I respect you, not only because of him, but because of a gentleman's decorum.

This is... Nerve wracking.

This is not yet... And yet more so for me.

And I thank you for that.

But what is this for you?

Nothing perhaps.

(:

Like a thousand tiny pencil tips,
Scratching out their little lines in eagerness.

Like the rustling leaves of the many trees,
Just beyond the meadow devoid of mist.

Like the tapping thimble of a seamstress,
As she scatters a cup full of pins to *****.

So the rainfall here is near to me,
With a sound I hold, above all else, most dear to me.

With mind turning ever slight
Hands on the wheel
And no arm of yours in sight
To be wrapped around this old arm of mine
I will drive on out
Into the night
Into the unknown of the next good day
As I praise his name
And drive on by
With a questioning mind out loud in my
Ever turning inward sight

BLACK
Is the darkest singular star
Behind the sun in the known night sky

BLUE
Is the sea in the sight of it's beholder
And long as the day is young and green

BOLD
Is the order of man unknown
Tall, as it shoots and sparks into the fall of being

COLD
Is the starlight and seabed alike
As awakening grasps at the spark of meaning

Think as if JJ Abrams is watching
Speak as if alone
Be true to you amongst all the sounds
That way your presence will resound
And to yourself, you'll always be known

A pendulum, rocking to the heartbeat of eternity
In time, in tune, in step with the world
Inside of the footprint of this city street

Like a whisper in the passing wind
Or a whistle nearby yet unseen
Striding forward with a massive force
Unstoppable as the former me

This is the essence of my own demise
And the love which grew too strong and too quickly
In order to keep my song alive

And yet through this I've become an entity
So I will rock for eternity, back and forth atop the hill
And also in the flatlands in the east
Where the whispers were first heard to me

Don't challenge me, I am not a machine. I am flesh and blood and a heart which beats, twice as fast as the former me. Hence why these words speed rhythmically from within my cheek.

One day my friend, one day maybe, you will spit my name from between your teeth. As I show you just how many mysteries can reside inside a man such as me.

Young wild and free, with intuitive eyes I often see, what others can only try and perceive. Attempt to hide, and shroud your mind in structured subtlety.

Overt your eyes away from mine, if you do not wish for me to see. Because this is the gift God has given me. And to not use it is to deny both the former and the present me. Like the blue in my eyes, know this. I see.

They are dying for it, they are bleeding for it, they are begging for it. And yet it will not come.

Like pure water from a well of mud, I dig for those who cannot drink, and wait with those who thirst on their own.

I am disgusted by those who flaunt it. By those who pour their wasted water out and splash it down upon the stones.

So cold and careless. They care nothing for the crowded rooms, filled with those who stand alone.

Her waist a stone laid wall I know
Beside a path walked quietly in the dark

With hair sudden like crashing waves
Informal as a Christmas morning
Full of lights, full of sparks

Persistent as the cattails in the northern breeze
Steady as the trees
And cool as stars, almost unreachable, untouchable
Unbearably far
  
Yet softer than the flowing mane
Of the mare untamed
In distant field that was once up close

With a breath of steam for a cold grey world
Hang on through mortal comatose
And wake

Old buildings weather youthful storms
And trees bear more children than we’ll ever know

Humanity is not a curse
But a whisper down an empty hall

No shadow lies without intent
Or climbs beyond a human’s back

And though we bend and break with age
We are born again just to take it back

How needlessly we weave between
The bitter roots, the grass and trees

Sit at the base of life content
And remember all which you’ve seen

Because we leave our better trees
To depart the earth into the soil  

And though we hope to forever stand
No building will ever endure

No, in the end
We all will break and fall again

The noise is not the trees.
Instead, I understand
And stand where life begins
And questions end.
Now comprehend,
What shakes therein.
For that sound is not a noise at all,
It is the wind.

When the water boils
The pasta spine breaks
And the sizzling bake refuses to stop
I lose myself in the aroma around
Cooking like this
I am
Soundly simmering within the not
And at the same time
Lost
In the time which stops

It’s like an echo off a cliff
Quiet as the hissing wind
Which hums over the wingtips of a gull
Lost in a sea of sand
Beneath the feet of a Castaway
Are the memories of bygone times and days gone by
They are washed away
As is every hope and happiness
Which once was brought upon, by the comforting rain
Though the trees connect his head and hands
To the barren sky above his head
No firelight can catch a glimpse of the looking glass
Or signal back, beyond the reef and its crooked back
For his is only in his heart inland
That survived the falling flights decent
Out of the sky above his head
Where the wings of changes could carry him back
Home to her arms, at loving last

When I focus, I can pull the walls
And create the shadows that only the artist sees

Like the distant corners of the dreary hall
Nobody knows internally what is happening to me

Whenever I focus inward, and throw the ball
Precariously, towards another

Because when I am focused I am me
And I am never afraid to fall

That is the secret within me
That when I try, I pull the walls

Inward at a unparalleled speed
Until the path is known to me

And it narrows out like the distant hall
Because when I focus, I can pull the walls

Quietly justifying
The existence of the other
The lines of his jaw
The turn of her hair
But not in hand
For its beneath the surface
Of the conscious mind
That the search began
And there it will end
There it will end

Life is grain broken
Barley thrashed and pulled apart at the seams of bread and beer

Grapeless wine
On tender loving vines in a budding vineyard still

Intent on being our sustenance from the start
Such things are born at the hands of man but by the will of Gods kind heart

When they curse you
And they blame you
When they passively
BOLDLY
Begrudgingly
Or in all other ways
Attempt to shame you
Into fleeing as if
You have nothing to be
And no reason to exist
Or to write such things
As these and this
When they try
And try
And YOU find yourself
Your world
Suddenly spinning
Upsidedown
On brand a new axis
It is then
In that moment
Of parry and precaution
That you must decide
How it is best to be
How you currently see
And can share such things
Beneficial to those
Who WILL always stray
When you hoped they'd stay
But as for me and my house
We will ardently seek
And oftenly pray
To show kindness to those
Who cannot
For the truth of them
Or the life of them
Or for the anger they store inside of them
BEGIN to see
The ways in which
That the sacrificial lamb
Has blessed us all
With this
A BRAND NEW LIFE
Within EACH DAY
This my friends
Is why I say
Be strong in this
And we'll walk that way

Who knows where the heart of a man resides?
In the mountains?
In the sea?
In an empty chest like cavity?
Be it hers or mine?
Because who knows where the heart of a man resides?

With every month that fades away, don't live in fear of what you're forgetting. But try anew as you always have, to find the truth of you, in each new setting...

As if every coffee cup ever filled was an ocean
So every drink ever drank by humanity was a dream
A beautiful dream with an inevitable end
Like a swirling coffee steeped in seeping cream
Forever mixed are our drinking lives with dreams
One and the same once turned knowingly

Reflected rays
Reveal the truth

Once read aloud
Between the lines

That words remain
Longer than footprints

And with illuminate truth
The moonlight shines

I wish you could see these reflections of mine
In my eyes
Like when the snow falls freely down
Careening now
Onto the ground
Past the autumn remnants of my life

If I could ask one thing of you
Make one wish
It would be that one day you would see this sight
Exactly as it is
Just like this
Standing atop this former mountain
Looking down into the valley of change
For miles and miles
Just to witness it
To view this world
Not as it once was or could’ve been
But for the beauty of the fading mist
For the aching, moaning, weeping wood
Which cries out for eyes
Which slowly degrades as the hilltop fades
Beneath the last few rays of light
As the day succumbs to the edge of night
Know that all that I want for you is to see
What it is, what it was
And what I suspect that it means
At least to my eyes and the likes of me
From this hilltop I wish you could see

It's easy to be most confident
When the action is present
When the purpose is known
But give yourself nothing but time to see
Nothing but quite days of drifting snow
And there in the waiting you will find
That the precious thing which you wanted most
Was just another line of string
In a wrapped up life slowly being unrolled

There’s an emptiness about it
Just words on a page
Just thoughts on a screen
And nothing more

Although there was a time, when I really let myself hope
I’ve kind of moved beyond that
Although she is as beautiful as the sun, the moon or any sort of imagery I could depict
I know that it’s not for me to see
Her footprints are in front of me
Moving out into the darkness of this good night

You just know some times, because…
You try, and live and breathe, and get up every day and, try again
But some things no matter how hard you try, just aren’t meant to be
You can’t even ask for them
She is one such thing

I’m really thankful for her, and I don’t tell her but…she’s often on my mind

I wish I knew her
Better than I know my own mind and my own person
Because she is
Not just worth knowing, but worth memorizing and understanding

Time and time again
Because she is

Catch me
Like a Firefly in a glass tomb
Like a candlelit flame in a dark room

I am narrative alive and well
Time reincarnate
And I give myself most humbly forward

Charred and broken at both ends
Until my own ashes turn lie and truth
I burn on every living tongue for you

A clanging, banging, colossus
Creating cavital void until glowing orange apricot
Bear no more at this youthful age
Before fate of day lets fly another
Don't wait and fade
Strike hot, hot
It is the iron and the sound away

Did he know?

That the stories he'd create
That the characters which he'd sow
Together all at once
Would so quickly grow in the minds of those
Who would follow along and fellowship
Together on this ever winding road?

For wherever there is rock and stone
Or root and earth
Be it on mountain tops or in the valleys below
How his stories over and over again
Will ever accumulate and flow
Through the minds of many so and so's

Did he ever realize the significance of this though?

When a child hears a storm rolling
Or an old dog howls in the dead of night
And the thunder is crashing
The lightning is striking
And the heavy rain spouts outside are unfolding

That is when I
At the age fifteen
Would look to be out in the thunderous storm
Instead of inside beneath the crown molding

Such storms were the reasons why I would be smiling
But also a reason why I would get scoldings

“You’ll get struck by lighting”
Said my mother to me
And then the voice of my sister would sound out with glee
Screaming “With Mom and Dad gone, you better not die on me!”

But I didn’t care
Because out there I was free
To jump high in the storm
And even flip dangerously
Because I was a storm jumper
Destined to be

Prestige with me most humbly,
As I paint you a picture never before seen.

Hear my words before I speak,
And gravitate ever so slightly towards the edge of your seat.
Such magical words do not come with ease.

They are the result of craft and timeless tries.
Again and again to coincide,
Within the lock and key inside.

Yet I escaped like Harry the great,
Call me a magician by twist of fate.

So I shuffle the words for all to see,
And deal them out most graciously.

Captivating the audience,
I line the Jacks in rows and stacks.

Only to quietly turn them back,
Into the deck where I escaped,
Into my hand which hold their fates.

And hopefully by watching me the crowd escapes,
Into the the purely predestined fate,
Into the magnificence I create.

What threatens and congests my chest
Is neither feeling nor felt
But frustration at the April snow
At the frozen tendencies of me
Which move so slow
And yet, never for the life of them, seem to melt
Frustrating is this man called me

In that moment I am gray as a the clouds until the sky falls down and there is gray all over me, all around and on the ground.

Do you ever feel such moments my friend?

When you feel like you are one with the clouds?

I Am Comprised
Not of stars
Or of seas
Or of trees
But of leaves
Because I fade
And will Fall
To these
Winter winds

Like a purple gem
Found deep within the Earths dark layers
Smooth as sandstone beneath rivers running
Warm as blackened pavement beneath summers sun

So this drink is to me
Most teasing of every sense and self
Which is why this cup cannot be
Most tasteful or worth

She made for me
The Best Raspberry Mocha On Earth

Cold caffeine
Warm room
Rain outside my windowsill

Quite chill
Somber tune
Waterfall which turns to snow

Hissing heat
Radiates
Truth until it’s known to me

That underneath
Every tire
Grinds the morning words to speak

The mountains and the valleys, the rivers and streams of my childhood call out to me and tell me to return to them and swim again, down below the underneath.

My father loved the meadows. Loves the wildness and the wilderness and the winters growth which is yet to be seen, in both the deer and the withering trees.

And part of me remembers still. Because part of him will always be me.

A river flows beside a tree
Which grows upon an earthy hill
Both strength and beauty can be seen
No need to hide
No want for veil
And the word of God flows underneath
As the river runs
To foster all which growth entails
So enter in lovers embrace
And share in the water
Drink it deep
Both when it flows and when it speaks
But especially when it stands still

With eyes to weep beneath the night
Neath trees which ought to've lasted ere
How sad it was for me to leave
Before such fullborn youthful tree
I'd turn myself once more, I could
And cry her name fullborn aloud
To catch my breath, and see her all
Before my Gondolin did fall

You’re right about that
There's no turning back
Once you’ve taken your eyes off this good track

Yet in light of that
How I love to drive
And to think aloud until my quiet thoughts talk back

About the process of understand things
Like how my mind survives
And my soul will ultimately outlast

Which is why in life, my fleeting friend
You should always keep your eyes on track
So that one day you’ll smile when you look back

I thought about me, long before I became me. And though I am here, I believe, this is where I was meant to be.