A home is not HOME
Unless you choose it to be
Even if you had
At one point in time
You must again
Or it's just another USE TO BE

It doesn't hurt
To not be valued
By those who do not know your worth

No...

What hurts is when the human heart
Desires the starlight
Beyond its own earth

When the silence grips the arm at length
After a great outreach of heart

Take hold of mind, letting go of hand
Hoping it will not longingly stay

And all a young man can do is not think
Not think about it and pray

So confident when signing up for it.
So comfortable once in.
So awkward when outside the door.
Am I the me who wants to be in?

Trees over rivers
Dew over blades
Water over gravel beds
Warm clouds rain over Western plains
And I
Trust in the inevitable over the doubt
Seek courage over the fearful flame
And think over and over abundantly
Yet over that in time I will be
Or so I proclaim

It's not how quick your feet are
Or how fast you can run in an attempt to fly

It's none of THAT and all of THIS
How you fall with the imperfections of each inevitable try

I'll tell you what it is, IT IS, right in front of you
In the face of the breath which has yet to come

It has nothing to do with how many times your feet may falter
When you fail to fly

But how quickly you can defy and overcome
Which defines the true heart inside

I'm so full right now so very warm
Like a coffee cup overflowing with ideas
I cannot wait to be off this road
I cannot wait to be onward with this journey
To create again and to let my words flow
Outward and into the microphone
How I cannot help but overflow
When the questions stored up inside my mind
May be answered so I might finally know
That is why I actually wish to overflow
So that in time I might just know

As if anything you say or do could impact me
Dear innocent girl
You keep your puddles
And I’ll be happy
Especially if you ever decide to swim with me in the sea

With heavy parchment and parted ink,
My pen calls out to your wandering mind.

Breathing in the dark of night,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fire burning in the dark,
I cut the heavy fog of time.

If only with purpose would beat my heart,
Your oxygen would keep me alive.

Before our dawn could even start,
We reach the end of this cotton line.

Although in time we're torn apart,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fleeting wisp you were to me,
Like a curl of smoke from a bed of pine.

Yet until this letter I complete,
Your oxygen will keep me alive.

Who is this?
The way that is
Straight and true
Once born
And yet
To walk this way
In a hurried day
I desire that speed
No more

The other day
A match struck my roughness
And anxiousness took me to be freed by fire
As I burned away all of your rusted memories
Which'd been stored for yet another day
Which turned out to be today
In ashes your words
Cast, burn and floating away

Paper
Yearns for the trees
No more than I
A humble man
Yearn for the pride of my prior youth
For once you have begun
You can always begin again
In some respects

Isn’t that write?

It's not that I understand eternity now.
The luminescence of the heart and soul.
I do not.
No.
Only now do I understand the complexity of it all.
The size and scale of the scope and whole.
And therein also my tiny this.
My role in the departure of these lives old.

My mind is flint
My tongue the tinder
A spark that is
Just let me die

These were the passing thoughts of mine

I can feel the light on my own skin, soaking into the eyes and bouncing off the cream-colored walls of old. The light, evaporating into the hours as if planned to pass gently by. And then within them accordingly. So also am I.

With growing mask
And similar shadows
A quick response
To light, to shrink
Instead remain
Both steady and calm
With outstretched hands
And don't forget
That always with each end
Comes ending ways
And that these present days
Are such moments but a single blink

Patience is no freer than sky
No further than breath from within you breathe
No more mapped than oceans collected cold
And yet warmer than the touch of summery springtime bold

Patience is cost
Patience is free
Patience is you, still
Waiting for me

No happy man ever said to me
"Because I'm happy it will always be so"
For in reality
Without the highest of highs and the valleys below to balance them out
How else are we to take in the sight or learn to see?
Without first having discovered both the lie and the mystery
Within such peaks and valleys
The highs and lows
The mountains and holes.

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

We remember heartache for a spell
Not because of the significance of those who have cast us off
But because it's the brightest color red
On the first of many canvases
That is until
The permanence of togetherness
Bring together both pen and quell

Raptures here in such
Open mouths, discussions sweet
As peppermint dreams,
Therein began still sipping
Less this noisy unknowing

In the clutches of envy, or judgement, or denial
With eyes turned outward at another life
Don’t hide when the inkwell turns up dry
But accept the death which comes to life
And lets you pass by this windowed world

Fly
Fly into the perfectly natural
Die

Searching for the truest of words
The quest of me
Is a sermon for an audience of one
Or two perhaps?
Maybe

Signing up for this certain road
Foreseeable or not
Be it windingly long, or deafeningly smooth
Makes no difference to me
Because to get to the end of it
To the end of it all
And to drive on like this
Is to get to be with, and be beside you

Learning to be selfish
Unlearning how to think
Aware of the ocean bottom fear
I am not
But still in my mind
And steady my will
Lord strengthen my prayer
My resolve
My being

Someday I'll play this song for you
Someplace where only you will hear
And only we will see
Appearing suddenly as a mountain fog in the morning Spring
And you'll know the breadth of my thought breathed for you
The gifts I once created too
Long before we were we

When the inevitably of the morning wakes
And anger insues
At the realization that life did take
Just to catch yourself on another day
That is when you need most to praise
Since all has being has been created
Thorns and all
In a beautiful way

The speed of a breath breathed out
That is how fast my mind doth fly and flee this earth
Above the clouded sea filled sky
Until the only thing left of me is this
This perspective of mine

Eventually you forget how to escape
To open the door at the back of your mind
And walk on though it
Into the new
And that is why we should value our innocence
And our children in such a way as we do

Having children of my own, somewhere, someday.
Will be to me, the most phenomenal distraction from self which could ever be...

Shooting spree
Fatal none
(that I know)
The camera man once me

This is the path before my feet
Which I'd like to share

The wet grass, the grey clouds, the pine trees
Poking the sky to run their fingers through its hair

Surrounded by the kind of limbs which always thrive
But do not necessarily care, about a man's feelings

How they have listened to me throughout the years
Until my voice is my own in mind

How their echos and their shadows, have carried me in the past
When I was there, and had more weight to bare

But not this time, which is exactly why
I hope you could see both here and there

Beside the talking pines forever
How I hope to walk, without care

I'd describe it for you if you'd ask me
*With a piney laughter in the air

Your emotion isn't poetry
But your poetry should be an emote

The worst illness available to man
Is not a fever of sorts
But fame
And the expectations stored within
That he has been solved
That he has been called by his true name
Which, ironically
Is never true at all

Because it's better to live in a house of wood
It's better to build without a name inscribed
Than to be called by all
And requested at all hours of the night  
Because what then becomes of life?
When you suddenly have
All of that which you have wished for?

When they curse and cry and weep and wail
When they try and throw you down like a stone
Don’t sink or slurk, but float
And that alone will be enough, to know

We see the results
Not of what we want
But of what we do

In the quiet hour when instead of reassurance
Our heart wants pizza
And we are in need of all things renewed

This plastic fire burns
Into a melted mixed bag
Of ***** and strikeouts

When God
Reaches down
And wraps your voice
Your arm, your mind
In a gifted shroud
Nobody cares about your small, petty, human politics stupid
Just go out and wow the crowd

You can't play a game of matters of the heart,
If your heart isn't available to be had.

Would it be rude of me?
At such a far proximity
To not breathe breath back into our being?

Cold and quiet as the morning
Laying still like the undisturbed sheets
Windowless without sense or feeling

Would you consider it mean?
If I chose to not let this proud chest beat?
And collapse in a time like the hills into a cavity

Just as riverous words cuts the valley sharp
And the tongue softens both pen and quill
How rude would it be if I didn’t care about our relationship lying still?

No monument of me be made
Or carving placed once I am gone
But please instead
Let my borrowed words be but a memory of mine
And if you should find yourself compelled by them
And must appreciate them based on a similarity of mind
Letit be done so, quickly, quietly, personally
Don't ***** out a single stanza in the name of me
Thank you
I'd appreciate it most greatly

Lay me out like tiles on a floor
Thrown down as if my order didn't matter
When really I am, the plan is me
A succinctly styled corridor
A path to walk down beneath the feet