Finding your memory
Lodged deep like a bullet wound
And in reaching past ribs, I heal
And turned out your used-to-be onto the street
And now only its recollection collects
And makes me money

When all I try
And all I do
Falls down like sand
Midst castle molds

With knees
Red and worn

And eyes
Read and worn

I will dig the softly sudden earth
And build myself
A castle new

Never to be torn down
In this life

Fog like mountain eyebrows, hovering above the area of Earth which splits between the snowy ground.

A train to steep the far side of the valley, and the other now filled with the exiting towns.

And I the traveler between the two heights. Wondering how and why this fog stays this way around.

Why?

Because I like her voice.

Why?

Because it feels like home.

Like a ripple...
Spreads the inner arrogant statements of self
Which you'd never tell someone else
Because even sounding them out sounds loud
But you believe in them still
In the quiet subconsciousness of self
Like the echoings of an inner cavern
There is something there
Because something that once cast shadows fell

There is a cave
Within a cliff
Beside a great waterway

And I don't know
That it exists

How the ocean moves and carves it's way
Without me watching it every day

How the caves of mind turn ever in
In their unexplored and unannounced way

I close my eyes above my salad
Nobody here can see
Praying that God would keep her well
And take care of her
Be it well away from me

Our eyes see stars
Our earth her neighbors
Just as near and far are subsequently born
Of human terminology

Rare metal doesn't substantiate
The substance within
Just as the height of a skyscraper is not the sky
But instead
Be just as you say you are
And am

Sleeping soundly on your memory now

I dream of uncollected worlds
Where young girls dance at summer weddings
And foolish men take their cars for spins and whirls

I've seen you less and less, in the headlights of happiness
My onetime escape
From you I'm free

Within the dance of newfound reflectiveness, I'm free indeed

So many wait
For another life
To walk into their own
Just to change the self

When really they
Are the only person
Who can pull apart the former fabric
Who can lend a mending hand to help

Expect no answers
To come from your mind
As it knows no more
Than tempered clouds
And expects too much, of you always

Expect no truth
To flow from your heart
When it's heavy with rain
And pouring out
Of this saturation found, and moreso

Expect instead
To be and fade
Like the ends of the endless
So comes the new
The next in line, is now

Just as the day most true is in ending
Found

Your song is like a clover field
Lucky
Peaceful
Always at ease
Rolling like the streamless hills
Your body right here next to me

Within the grass
And on the wind
Ever is your voice to be
And even when I’m not in sight
To see your jawline ever slight
As you sing a clover field to sleep

I know your voice
As I know your eyes
And the way much like your song implies
That you are peaceful and at ease
Like a field of clover
You’re lucky to me

Peaks and valleys found
On every fragile mountain
Past and present young

Blessings upon you child of the rain
Who walks so freely beneath the clouds

How your life is filled with a freedom of heart
And a clarity of mind, which is unrivaled by
Even the most ill motivated and questioning eyes

Blessed are you

Because you understand the collective side
And the joy which can be found inside
When all around you is pouring down
And falling out

When so many others are hurrying up and scurrying about
Just to curse the sound
Of the falling rain

It is you alone who are not afraid
Of stepping out, and soaking yourself
Be it skin and bone, one and the same

How you welcome the storm without concern
And dance and sing without reserve
Amidst the downpour of the rain

Like a child who was never taught
Or even told to try and abstain
From such innocent things

For you are alive and always well
Within this, the present moment
Most endlessly and without restraint

How you throw your arms around the sky
Most lovingly each time it cries
To comfort it

To hug the storm without remorse
And to appreciate the summer’s day
For what it is, devoid of heat

Oh childlike, child of the rain

It’s because of you and your carefree ways
That I wish the storm could ever stay

And perhaps one day
That we two could play
Right here alongside, within the rain

Regardless of those outcomes
These comings and goings of great joy and unpleasantry  
Sing as my heartstrum stings
Bow and my base drum rows
For regardless of today aloud
Would you just be with me
My world for-unever in being
Together we'll forget the how

Be like chocolate
Not because of the sweetness
Or because of the health implications, no

Be it milky white or dark devoid of light
Be rich like chocolate
How it's void of all time

Because chocolate is always so well received
Often described as full
In the remnants of another person's mind

And to those who are alergic to it
We say how sorry we are for that
Because it tastes so flavorful richly fine

When I'm here;
      My soul does not stir.
It settles behind closed eyes
      And breathes a contented breath...
A summer sigh.

Knowing that the winter will return,
     Like an old friend.
Along with the whistling radiators...
     To hold to cold in utter contempt,
And to warm my frostbitten fingers.

He puts on his headphones and walks through the house.
Weaving between the family members, and the memories, darting in and out.
With only the Beatles, and an empty cup, to console himself.
He is happy to be set apart on Christmas Day, standing right beside the remnants of his former self.

They don't believe me when I say,
My foresight stretches a long way.
Down the winding road of time,
Into the valley of decline,
I see my age, in the faces of those who have traveled this way.

I see my future in their shoes,
I see the certain way their memories fade like the morning dew.
And yet I have arrive at the early hour,
Before the dew has time to flee.
Before the earth has time to turn,
The dawn itself calls out to me.

For it's here I see what it simply means to simply be,
A present in the presence of the bitter sweet.
The better notion of pursuing passions which never seemed to be,
A suitable means of living without ease.

And yet such fear of fear itself is what I need,
To motivates a man such as me.
To presuppose and catch a glimpse beyond the horizon,
Into the distance where I decree,
That the next life will be a more suitable life for me.

When the cloud drums sound
Piercing silence aloud
Booming minstrel singing in the collective song of time
Once again then I
Not in Eru Ilúvatar
But in the clarion voice of Christ
Be found

We are all one in song alike
We are all one

You are the twist at the corner of your cheek
Like a youthful expression from the past
Meeting at an intimate place, which I’ve yet to know
But hope—beyond all hope—that I could meet

As the trees edge the clearing, so do I reach you.

As the sound of the breeze unseen is heard, so also has been the truth of me.

Some days afire, some days rain.

And some days to lose completely in thought, and others like the clearing standing still and in frame.

Some days I just don't have the words
So I ask him to provide for me
All the pros for my failing verse
And unfailingly he does this for me
Because he always simply is
As I will never ever be
Half as clever as my God can be

The point of realization is a scary cliff to overlook
Higher than you've ever felt and lower than the lowest of lows
There is no telling which way you should venture
Or in which direction you should go
Because the fear is what makes the venture an adventure
And only at the bottom of the jump will you know
That the fear which you were feeling
Was only fear of the unknown

This is me letting go...falling slowly from the cliff of selfish desire, into the cool and clearness of the conscience below.

Of you and my desire for you...this is me letting go.

Put my ghost to bed already.
It's half past two
and we
are neither of us, young.

The clouds racing across the sky
Remind me that my chance to live
My window into this varied life
Is rather short-lived
And that one day, as I certainly know
I'll be able to fly across the sky
Beside the clouds
But never high enough to look down
At least with this particular set of eyes

Someday their skies will open up
And they'll realize that
I was always a cloud
Just never aloud
As clouds do

No sky will ever hold such elegant phrases
Or pen to carve the cursive clouds
No such dreams were just a thought to be
Not meant for you indefinitely
No, like clouded skies they were ever passing through
Just as now no memory will remain
Either of or through or of you

I fell from the sky
Ages ago
And that is why I like the rain
Because it reminds
And disguises that I, am not home again
Because when it rains
I can smell the clouds
I can even pretend
That I’m living in the sky again

Isn't that the idea of the ideal? To conflate small with big? To expect every sighted cloud to be, exactly as you see it is? Be it building towards or not in part. The clouds are no more a part of you, than you are a part of whatever dream you see.

Maybe today
My words will change
The face of the earth
And make her smile
Smile again

There is a dark side
To the brightest coffee moon
In the cup before me now
Which stands alone

Sinking, smiling
Into a napkin brown as dust
Pale as where the snow begins

The same old tables know my name

And memories felt

In feelings like young hands first touch

Return in eyes one and the same

In creation, I create

And in hopeful optimism grow

Looking continually cut

Like the flowers by the highway lives

In wishing and where is why I tend to find

That you are the foremost thought of late

The only sonnet ever on my mind

In a humming truth like a vibrant bird

You are here most every time alive

When it stirs its like a volcano
When like a geyser it does hiss
Like an atomic bomb
It tears apart the molecules of bitterness within my cup
That's where the replacements happen and meet
Dulcet and stirringly sweet
The mushroom cloud encased in liquid
Pours forth steam and radiates
The internal heat
Of coffee

Some days the lance hits home
And your chest is punched through your armor
Vibrating your heart until it's up against the cold
Yes
Sometimes when you've offered yourself to be struck
You are just that
Mere fragments of yourself within a suit of armor cold

Let the wind and rain on this dreary day refresh your mind, and seep into this, the very corners of your soul. That way we can drink in the storm together. Instead of our midweek coffee, hot, we'll brew this Friday morning cold, and sip until the weekend appears. Polite and unfolding, as the packet of paper and its peers, for the cream is sweet enough for the cold brew itself. And so I ask of you. Would you drink in a metaphor or two with me, just for a break? In order to take away, from the truth of day which has yet to grow but an hour old. Let the wind and rain suppress all thought, as we sit beside, in the room of old. Breaking, waiting for the will-less voice which always seems to sleer and say...get back to work you sleepy, seeping, sipping souls. Take your supposed spice coffee calling called cold brew and go.

The fondness of this soul building feels like hot chocolate to me. Warming this old unwilling heart to create and be. For another day. Another day.

My heart is like a snow laden car
Freezing in the bitter cold

Left to stand in a parking lot semi-alone

Clearing my windows I depart
Most anxiously to feel the need

And yet as in each morning, each winter
When the days are dreary and quick to dark

There is a frost to be found all around

And so my hesitant in heart
Is to turn over and start

Warming only by this, the end of this drive

For my heart is like a snow laden car
Covered and only to be seen in part

When cleared away the beating heart
Is too warm too late and frozen still