You won’t know either quiet
Or the world
Until you step outside at 3 a.m.
To fill the void of an empty mind
With the deepest drink of sky imaginable

You are no less alive

When I look into the mirror, I am more than what I see.
I see the past, I see the present, I see the future...I see me.
I see the ideas and the ideals, the fleeting notions in-between.
I see it all within the mirror, although the mirror, isn't the only thing I see.
I see myself and my old image, I'm nothing special you can see.
I look within to see my reason, and portray a look to pretend I've seen.
But...this isn't a mirror set before me, it's just a doorway next to me.
Two sets of glass, a single person, a dual-reflection for all to see.

Would you be my stars?
Glistening comets in full admiration of
Me, looking upwards having found
The only essence of luminescent
I ever could wish to see
And in being (together) feel

Glory to the one true king
The only one worthy of my praise
And the original verse which was written down
For the final song I will sing someday

Glory to him

The God of perfection
Who far above and beyond
All of these most imperfect thing

Including myself
For I am not him
But I will do my best in everything

A silent heart calls
Along wires out humming low
Like power lines hot

Your work, your will
Both the unconscious free and purchased thrill
All of it being inside yourself
Burns fast to ash and with a flash
Is gone into the nothingness of the still

But God
Being more than free and willing to wield
The honest truth in relation to man
Is outside of the self
Is outside of the endless pleasure wheel

Though redundant as this life may be
To pass over the distant hill
It is in his freedom you most feel
The completeness of his higher will
And may you be therein

Hurry hurry
Says the human
Grow up fast so that you can live

Slowly slowly*
Says the father
I'm excited to see you
But not that excited to take you

When my thoughts run away with me
And I don't know which way I should go

Once I receive the insignificance I so badly wanted
And all I want, is to be left alone

When every corner of my existence is thick with dust
Having flooded my mind, this temporary home

I find his words alive again, and I am reminded
That I must decide once more to go home

It’s not that time
In its infinite wisdom
Healed anything or all that was crashing between my ears
No
It’s more that I chose
To wash away the sands of scent and memory
And to let you go
Adios

Goodnight father
Goodnight sun
Goodnight detestability of day and enjoyment of all things costly and fun
Goodnight to you
And goodnight to me
Goodnight dear bed frame and thank you for this, your stability
Goodnight my pillow
Goodnight my bed
Goodnight and would you carry me, over the moon and back again?
Goodnight to you, to these honest things, which I may or may not mind first thing in the morning
Goodnight my distant memories
And goodnight to my favorite mystery, to your quiet and kind consistencies
For it’s a good night I offer, honestly
A good night from another
A goodnight from me
Goodnight my father
Goodnight to your son
Goodnight moonlit stars and spinning earth
Though the turning therein has just begun
Goodnight my Lord, goodnight and please, watch over those in need of sleep
Goodnight my God, a good night to you
Good night you have been, good to me

Brush your hair back behind your ear
Pull my blankets to your chin
And kiss your cheek
Most gently
Just before I let you drift off to sleep

Because this is where the long day ends
And my loving care for you begins
And renews again
Over and over
Just like all of your dreams
Which my unbroken heart always wanted to mend

For as long as you need me here to sleep
I’ll wait for you most patiently
Be it by your side or a distance away
With a cup perhaps in the hallway
To sip until the break of day

Because I am yours
As you are to me
One meant for the other
And purposefully made
This way to be
Like coffee and her beloved tea

Yes I am your tea
And pleased so to be
Dark and rich like indian spices
Warm and soothing as a bubbling bath
To cut the edge of the winter's night
And to warm you to me

Oh dearest future
See only me
And know that I read not just for me
But for all of the stories which are yet to come
And for all of the secrets you may wish me to speak

How I wish that this sound could be more like me
Like the last lingering note
Of the lullaby we’d always sing
And I’ll sing once more one day to my kids
Which I hope one day you would give to me

And so in this momentaneous rhyme
I give you what's left of my lifetime of time
My eternity
My everything and all of me
With every sentiment and subtle though
Which ever passed through this imperfect mind

As well as this comfortable bed of mine
How lonely it's been
Here without you within
Oh dearest girl
Oh darling of mine

You're the future that I
Most every day desire to see
But must stop myself from picturing in mind
So goodnight dear future
You're far to beautiful to begin to describe

Honest buttons sewn instead
Cute, on quiet shirts in collared beds
In lime low light
Now settled and still
Neath smiling patient seen
And all I wanted was to keep
A screenshot, a memory of such
For a moment full of sleepy pixels to fill
Goodnight dear new
I say and I adored the scene

Dear world, dark world
Colder and older than the start of time
More lost than the downward eyes
Which seek the feet of man

How your crusted epicenter stands
As the foothills choose what is before
To walk the path of least resistance

And so

No more will I let stand beside
This burrowed unrest in my chest
And so now I say without hesitance
Dear world, goodnight
Be at Peace
I am at home in your rest

How can a human being be so good?
Have such good parents?
Have such a good upbringing?
Have some good friends?
Get a good education, at a good institution?
Have good enough degrees to get a good enough job?
Have a good enough mind to problem-solve?
And everyday continually subscribe to a method which means that they will thrive?
And with every success still remain not a snob?
How can any human being be so good, so well brought up?
And yet still after everything, be so messed up?

This sound is like volins more gentle than snow
Like starlight twinkling, streaking and cold
Like hair strung strings on the breezy frame of a chello
Like the earth axe tapping at copper and coal
Like the most beautiful rain on the blind boys face
Like the artist envisioning the most timeless of place
Like the linger puddle with a glimmering sheen
I find this song goes beyond all that once was serene

Beauty in a subway station
Is often called
A crime

But contained within
Such an cavernas system
No right to move
Or way to judge
The intricacies of the human mind

It's what we do
And even why
Bend as we will
Be it by purpose
Or abandoned principal

Design
In design we stand
Still

Reach into the nothingness
With an outstretched arm Inquisitorial
And pull a star down from the sky
A scar from the skin
Or the sight from within a strangers eye
Look and see
All the potential within that unique life
The marring and falling
The look of a life lived once alive

When I am in the river
And the rocks are rolling with the storm beneath
I shine as stars
Stand as trees
And dig into the earth with my scarred limbs

When all around is changing pace
Unmoved
And ever shaken
As if grooved
I am awake and without worry

When I am greased and in the groove

There is no green bright enough
In all the trees
Or in every sea
To tell of how envious I am of you

No smile is wide
Enough to pass through the air
As quickly as yours

Does the wind fear the trees?
Or the leaves depart other than because they must?
No
They frolic together in the most
Perfect and natural
Peaceable ease
And so also you should
Also
In this season of changing leaves

Presuming the best
Works best in those fields which feel
And believe in big
The kind of thing which makes trees
Grow and flow in fields of mind

You are the girl across the yester year
Like a memory bound town
Vague as watery days spent in summertime swimming pools

And now, we have the same ears for similar sounds

The same ears for similar sounds

My childhood
Born and died on a hook called quietness
In the stillness growing with contemplative reverence
Until meadow flowers and cattails calm
Burst forth with artistic being again
And now, having been adopted and reborn on the same mountain breeze
My perspective has changed me entirely
To adopt the sun as quite my own
And in moonlight see, to forgive the Father
For as dirt is dead and dies eternally
So the seed breaths quietly, living on in life and death
To reflect the stillwaters on the aspiring breeze
It ends as it began
Quietly

Either I know everything, or I know nothing
I'm never close to the in between
Which is why you seem so far away
At least in time, within this space
Because I cannot see your face
I can only hope most ardently
That for once in my life
Somebody like you
Knows everything there is to know
About someone like me

Cold strings quietly
Ask for vibrance and true song
To be strummed made live
On youthful learning fingers
Tipped with determination

When you're truly tired of it
And you cannot stand it anymore

That is when you learn to quit
To stay away

And afterwards
You learn to live with the person who's left over

Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like
And who I would be
If I dug out a grave six foot deep
And buried my bad habits there underneath
Once the freedom of topsoil was beneath my feet
Above that habitual grave who then would I be?

Telling yourself not to not
Is not enough
It's already a thought

Source, a heartthrob life
Be thought, and alone no more
In my being caught

Pain, no conscious name
Be known, but never the less
In present heaven

Trap me not in these
My old memories of mind
They are less than I

My head it aches, like a Halo wrapped tightly around my head.
Like an angel who tried to pull the wool around me, but now I wear his crown instead.

Pressuring me, my every thought, pounding beats out like a drum.
Oh metal band I bind with you, to make my wandering mind go numb.

Pull my attention back to you, you show me a hue of blue above.
On such a day when skies are gray, I crave the Raven not the Dove.

Just send me to a quiet room and remove my Halo from above.
These former halves no longer two, the pain humanity hates yet loves.

Pulling attention back to you, demanding time and time again,
That I lose sight and sacrifice my focus on the task at hand.

Depart from me oh aching head, let me for a moment begin again.
To see the morning without hindrance, and be the mind I've always been.

Powerful fingers
You will know them when you see them
Holding stars, holding planets
In between their webbedd wisdom

Hear them snap inside a thunderclap
And grasp the cup turned skywards
Hold the palm to match the desert
Each crevasse a meadow river

From the creator to the created
A hand to offer, hand to hold
So much for power and for wisdom
For every story ever told

Has been by his hands

You're the keys on my keyboard
You're the font in my mind
I can see you curve like cursive streaks
How I wish that we were aligned

I am the last hand on the earth
To compound and push down
To press the headache as it sounds
And fade it out

Away into the nothingness which awaits its new master
I am standing upside-down
Twisted inside until out
Living in the unlivable town

For I am the last hand on the earth
And as it stands I'm falling down

Convince yourself there
To be happy and then be
Where noone remains

Like a train track whine
become embodies both peaks and beams
The very best of
(kind)
If their ruminations on record can bounce
from flowing cloud to star and back again
Without falling an inch but
blooming into down an atmospheric
(ear)
With peaking echoes so gently drawn
that it can stir the cattails fur
and create rainless ripples across the worlds of
(water)

That is when good harping is best
As a sound so fragile that it’s almost human
in its death at last
Regardless of digital
(wax)

I love this sounding verse to pass
(me)

Stuck is nothing more than everything

When in eyes unseen it is realized that
There is no breath without first breathing
No baseline without hearts first beating

And in unified personified existence being
There is no whatsoever love forsaken
Without ever first the chance of breaking

Grass browned and cut with a chawing cud
Fat and round with a sun burnt down

Unlike me

Not a one of them knows a breath of Frost
Or has ever weighed over an ounce of Cummings evenly

No

We are different makers, different means
With different paths to guided completely differently

And thank God for that
And this preferential me

My eyes are weary
My mind is wide
And open to you

Would you take my head within your hands?
And set me back?
Pulling the pain from behind my eyes?

Would you be the pressure
My temples need most desperately
For a moment's peace?

Because no one else has struck a chord
As equally
As caring as me