Poetry is
The earth we see
When its tumultuous and green

And syllables
Are the rivers
Carving out valleys deep beneath

Someday someone
In passing or in present
Will strike this stone with such a force
That the stream beneath will be revealed

And finally flowing
Slowing in a southern fashion growing
My river will be born

But not anew

After writing like this for many years
As a poet-try
You cannot help but grow a good bit
Like a poet-tree

A passive mouth
Should not be able to stand
On solid ground

In fact it never will
Know such a foundation

So long as passivity and poison
Anger and predisposition
Line a tiny row of fragile teeth

I will not know
Let alone why it bites

Chemical, the fluctuation of quiet in the night.
And yet, the dawning of the agenda reveals no radiant Dawn.
No truth revealed, just another dogged fight.

She is a portrait in my mind
A canvas of flesh and blood
With an ink stain upon her chest
Where her heart still beats steadily
He life turning like the ocean
Her eyes as stead as the water underneath
She is a portrait and yet a friend of me
And by the sea she will always be

That is the glorious peeking dawn
Youthful flowers in a denim vase
Pure beauty beneath, behind the face

We love the heart
For how it beats aloud
For none to see and only one to hear

This day is like the pouring rain, heavy falling and hard to swallow.
Dark as the memory of an old embrace,
Cold and mellow, like the cousin of a summer day.

Yet within this rain we are unchanged, just not the same.
I see the water as it cascades,
And floods the streets, to wipe the dogged dirt away.

It’s in my ears, it's on my mind, like a booming sigh.
The raindrops on the soggy ground.
Flooded I am washed away, but not far enough to leave this town.

I welcome your storms
Embrace your rain
Having fallen long before
In a flood
And in being
There my own being
Found
So I welcome your storm
All around

Pencils pray not to be picked
Brushes roll away and hide
Conversations intentionally aim and miss
Ivory keys pretend not to be alive
The original concept grows wings on the wine
The original truth tries it's best to lie
And I am the one who is for want of all practice
Never let it be said that I never tried

Oceans, and

I am the place by hollow shores
Where salt and osprey meet in airs
Like hurricanes turned on their heads
Like feathers in the fair duress
I fold the melting sands amess
Into being as one they sung
By rocky shoals and jutting reefs
My currents forever run

I am the presence by the shore, the waters beneath the sun

With solemn eyes I look and see,
The person I think I could be.

Not a suit nor a tie or an in between,
But a passionate man of many things.

I think, I am, I create to be,
A person who expects more of me.

Though rolled up my sleeves are not unique,
I want much more than this present me.

Gentle trees
Harsh Winters
And the mulberry sunlit rays between

Fall down on me like splintering pines
Though the winter scolds
God save the gentle trees

Presume the best
And best meaning first
It's far better than the opposite
Far more trusting than the worst

I pretend to know
How the universe and its infinite rivers
flow like dandelion fields alive
When really the only thing which bursts in me
is unknowing and being
in this reactive fall
And as the earth approaches fast below
I ask it why
And plead to fly
For myself no less to all

One of these days the world will wake up
And I won't be in her bed anymore
Stroll through the earths kitchen commonly
To no blueberry sounds or pancake feelings flat
And then just like that
She'll know and know
That I'm nothing like her
And so this morning
I go

The gentle quiet of a hollow room appeals to me
Turn off the lights and let me think
Turn off the cost
It's not at all
To be an introvert is cheap

Back when I was in love with things or so I thought
I was far too agreeable to everyone
And I often tasted the bitter sting when someone else forgot who I was
But really what I didn't understand was the impermanence of things
How my opportunities were limited
And how I shouldn't care so much about what other people think
I should've just breathed in and been exactly as I was meant to be
How I should've savored the moments back then
Before the truth of life could find me
And sink my feet into reality

Even when you look at me
Do you see me
Or do you see only
The years and years of your own idealism
Projected upon my being now.

I used to write just to read on and on
In a listing manner, with a scrolling eye

But no more do I
Write in such a manner as this

There’s no desire to be found
As those days have long since passed me by

And now I only write for myself, the ID
As compared to the length which these pages provide

And I stop flowing waters
Dead in their tracks, without so much as a whisper

Because I’m no longer afraid to speak
Or to be seen here within these imperfect lines

Succinctly
Steadily
Slowly
And with utmost honesty
Advancing towards the inevitable end
Or so I think
And hope
And pray
To be

I'm a professor who professes to teach beyond the textbook lessons. To approach the very essence of the creative self-expression,

Known as man and known as woman. Call you to a higher ed concessions, to appoint the very purpose of this presupposed oppression,

Of your eyes, and of your mind, I wish you to the other side, of the unguided and unknowing creative self which lies inside.

Cause what is life without perspective, and what are trials if you do not try, and strive beyond your own horizons, and slide down the back of the other side?

Will there be shadows on the road, yes, will you trip and stumble, a couple of times, but never let yourself be doubtful of the potential you hold inside,

To create the future, sculpt the present, and tread the clay where it resides. Because in class is where I see you, but in this life you use your eyes,

To see the self-inside of others, to recreate what's on your mind. To be the difference and the vision, you have the tools to go and try,

And share your view of the horizon, survive the frustration in stride. Become creative in your endeavors, and you’ll bring joy to me and my eyes.

Staring into the eyes of life

And to be not afraid of another day

Is the essence of a man most confidence

And to hold it confidently in such a way

So as not shake or waver within

Or to back away from the wall of change

But a change as it is, is a chance to remain

And to never break from your life's first gaze

As deep calls to deep
Earth to sky
Heart to clearing mind
Clouded atmosphere to crying eyes
So also does my breath in quiet panting
Catch itself within my chest
When you are revealed in celestial being as
And your starlight veil has come to pass

Why do we stare into the mirror?
Why do we turn away from a cosmic gaze?
Wanting crowns, but afraid of being kings?
But why?
Because we humans do not know the depth of things
Though we like to think we do

How deep is a puddle?
Underneath the sky
Atop the earth
And soaking into the dirt beside the rugged asphalt

Created beside the hand of man
How it reaches in
Just to stir itself into a frenzy

How it seeks to meddle and mend the crooked stream
From its own perspective  
When the preference is not to wind but to align

For this I say
Unto the man
Who holds the line
With his elbows locked and intertwined

That a winding way is not a way
Or a challenge from the immortal hand
It's just a steam of the natural
It's just the earth trying to begin again

Pulling the water back to the sea
To grind the eternal rock to sand

Ever so slowly

And this is why
Directly beside your creation
The puddles began

In the pulling of gravitational love, up
I need not pray for you will also find
that an entirely different universe
both warming, and cold, and burning
rests in motion there
spinning inside her beating chest

A taste can only reach so far
so take my sound

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

Puzzle me
Piece me
Try and place me
As you may
In a more human light
A more natural way

But you cannot
Just as I cannot

Tip over a pawn
Without gravitas
Without leverage
Without a certain sway  
Puzzle over as you must
To piece another way

Falcons do not concern themselves with inching worms
Nor bears with minnows
Nor I with you

Does a bent bow know its own true strength?
Or an arrow the path it will inevitably fly?

Does a tree choose to grow so as to spread its roots?
Or an acorn to fall just to avoid parents reproof?

Does a song ever know when an earworm becomes?
Or a breeze ever realize that it’s unheard of to you?

Can such questions fall slowly like a newborn snow?
And yet not meet their demise on the wet, cold, grounded truth?

Who knows of such things as this?
Maybe you?

Ask me not
The question I most want to ask
The letter never sent which flies
And falls apart between the lines
You think I'm scared of you?
No, not scared...
I'm terrified

Behind every dusty picture frame
And written on every window pane
Within this empty house of mine
You will find
The quiet little secrets which I left inside
Before I moved back to the city
To a place where I needed to be
In order to continue my life of ease

Prop upon an elbow
Look beyond a lens
Stare into the memories to be
And pray
Whispering quietly
That soon it will be so
And that it never has to end

Deep into the evening, on such a day as this,
An unfathomable amount of whispers escape your lips.

Mostly quiet things pulled straight from the heart.
Like a shot of whiskey, honest and warm.

Like a song of time on the radio,
It's slowly in time that I must let you go.

Like a dulcet strum, so I heard your last sound.
Be it far away at the edge of town.

And yet echoing as your voice is now,
I hear both your heart and mind call out.

Begging me to whisper you free,
And remember you as you always wanted to be.

Snuffed out,
Like a candle in the thrashing wind.
Your body breaks,
And we yearn for you and fade away.

Into the night,
Until the moment just before the light springs out.
We dream of you as you drift away,
Into the song.

Within this place,
A gift of sound and kind embrace.
A lover still of life and light.
Your life illuminates the darkest night.

Glowing was your every sound,
Radiant your very sight.
Your smile wider than the sun,
You voiced the passion of this life.

A candle burning fierce and fast,
Not at both ends,
But in our hearts Christina,
You will always last the night.