I want to want her like a glass of wine
With an endless taste, and a deep draft
Waiting for me at the end of each day

Bitter and sweet like the summer tea  
With a hint of dandelions, and her hair brushed gently away   

Although this is me...you need not see, or want her in a similar way
But it's best if you could acquire the taste.

Because when you hold an endless glass
You can sit and sip your life away
Without care or concern for those moments past

Slowly like a semisweet
A Merlot or Chardonnay

How I want to want her like a glass of win
So that I can drink her in
And be drunk on her at the end of each day

A thinking boy needs a thinking girl. Someone who knows some of, but not the sum of, what is in his or her own head.

Don't Lose Yourself
Remember who you are
You have things and you want things
You've become things and you're becoming things
Beautiful, good and decent things
Which bring great joy to the one true ruler
And honor to your rightful king
So don't lower your gaze or piercing sight
For ANYTHING!  
For anyone who has no claim
Or cannot understand the way
That your eyes tend to see such things
Designed as they were for such a struggle
Born and bread for such a fight
For such a sight
Don't lower your line of sight for anything

If you need me
I’ll be floating
Awash in a puddle of memory
Unaware in a sea of opportunity

A gentle, delicate, beautiful hand
Extends from the Excursion
And drops a can
Ugh, what a hideous hand

Homeless is the bird which flies from tree to tree.
And so are we...
So are we...

When one man says
"All the little things"
He is looking into the eyes of her
In love and drunk on summers wine
Before the winters fall
As if the endless summers were yet alive on this earth

When in reality
"All of the little things"
We do, and say, and act to be
Are but seasons we have aligned with time
Are but dusty feelings
Stirring occasionally in a field full of tempered streams

There cannot be a new being of you
Until you stop clouding the same old skies
With the comfortable grey you've known
Since you last tried
But instead
Let it rain until the rain is through
Let it rain and then
Even when it hurts and all which you desire is behind you

If you are the dawn
Awake and alive
Then I am the moment of the day which breaks
And turns into the bitter night

My own masked by starlight
Your left alone crowned with a sparkling retina alive

It's to you that I turn
At the end of all things
When the day first began to realize its own light

We are young and alive
Ever ready to strive
Towards the hours invested within, without sight

Sometimes I seek the solitude of a quiet room, just to hear my mind speak aloud. To question all that I've built in this world, and whether or not I am allowed, to act on it.

Should you ever find me doing this, don't judge me for it, and don't question it.

Because believe me if I knew why my mind requires this. I wouldn't have to close the door, or lock myself externally in.

I guess sometimes what is inside, is not always willing to coincide, with what the heart tries to keep alive. And this is why sometimes I hide.

In order to unlock the locked away inside.

Some days you just feel
As man was not mean to be
Alone

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.

With no words written on the wall
Lonely is a man's heart
At least when trying to balance out
The respect, and the desire to call
For this true
That lonely is a man's heart in all
When there are no words left for him at all

Look into my eyes and see whatever you can.
For I have passed over,
And I become the former friend.

Though before you my feet may shimmer and stand.
You cannot see the path before me,
Nor the direction which my heart demands.

Like a wanderer, I'm an invisible man.
Standing beside the traveling son,
With the comrades in their own travelin band.

The rugged, the ragged, the weary souls.
Such tiresome eyes will always know,
What the steady feet will not understand,

So look into my eyes and see,
Whatever it is,
Whatever you can.

Hoarfrost hugs me closer than
these sounds of something
in this quiet night
And the sky, the sky, shines brightest
beneath these trees in reflective thought
In looking I am reminded
of my being alone and alive

When I breathe
You breathe
And when you look past the greening summer trees
I see
Like Julia Stone
That same essence of the world unknown
And still unknown to me

Dreams are...
Like the stars
Unreachable but
Still embedded
Within existence

And suddenly with bass
The speakers explode in an old home
Like a storm blown over a country complete
As all the inhabitants of this one mind know
That this song is new
And while it glows with coals turned blue
It will newly be here on repeat

I haven't felt at home since then
Since I've woken up
No dream can last
All nights must pass
And rise again

But my realization hasn't changed
The way things are or could've been

Look back and see the same old day
Not as it was, but as it is

No amount of time can change the fact
Or the truth therein

That we are searching, ever searched
Alive within for but a short time

You keep on spitting it out
From your couch "my friend"
Because you know where I'll be

Working furiously as ever before
Until all of the flaws are ironed out
And there's nothing left of you but your mouth

Just sit back and relax as you always have
And then comment on what THIS is really about

How I did what I said, and I said what I am
When I jumped up and stomped on the top of these clouds

Hopefully then you'll discover quite quietly how  
To have a sensible song tucked away in your mouth

No paint speaks for me
My favorite words fall utterly short
And I, no song could ever be you
And yet I can see you here
Before you are known
Before you exist in this world of mine
I can see you as if you were in present time
Just as if you were already mine

Kiss this youthful day
With a passionate prose tongue
And hold her hands close
As if tomorrow wont come
Though it ever will do so

Is love a fancy or a feeling or a fascination?
You tell me
Although my mind is already made
And made up like the corners of my bed sheets

Your grandparents will tell you one thing, your parents another
And the youth amidst the feeling will tell you something else entirely

You know what I think?
Do you even care?
Will anyone even hear this little thing?
That love is a decision made every day
To let go, to hold on, to cut loose, and to cat's cradle string

The same old yarn or balers twine
Which you first used to tightly wind
The cord around your loving life

You picked your husband
You chose your wife
Now chose whether or not you'll live
An ever loving daily life

They ask me if I’m with anyone…
If I’ve found anyone in my place of need?
Or if by chance she happened to walk on by
Down the other side of the same street
Just right past me?

To which I have always and often replied
Feigning a smile of effortless ease
That they shouldn’t worry about such things
Because my love life will stroll at whatever pace
And down whatever street that it does please

Let not the stubbornness stored away within your heart,
Deny your head the happiness,
And the ease of truth within the mind.
Which is found only when two similarities collide.

Because the inverse breaks the mirror indefinitely, without reflection.
But the same eyes resonate,
And reverberate both the feelings and the sight therein.

Enjoy the memory of the crossroads where love first met it's counterpart.
Oh, how I pray that you can let yourself live to see such a sight.

Live not for love the feeling
It will let you down inevitably
Love then to live the choice of you
The decision to be
The WITH because of what is good and true

How patient are the arms of the trees
To hold out and hold on
To the weight of the weighed winters snow
In place of their own
Their children, their leaves
Which have long since left left for the distant ground
Having moved on to another town
How they’re holding on and beholden now
How kind are these?
Such winter trees

Wash over with your iridescence
And waver slowly just above the scene
Mere feet away or miles now, I cannot tell?
Though your iridescent qualities may be seen
Forever in the waters quelled