colors bleed in memories
like submerging my mind underwater
swimming in an ocean of tears

is it haze
or does the light not reach
this deep?

Sharp memories
pierce the mind
sunlight pierced a cloudy sky
the wind blowing swiftly through my free flowing hair
it would be a lie to say i lived without a care
but you were there
and I was happy

we’d walk
no day too hot or cold
just to breathe in everything
we’d become accustomed to the company
of one another’s languish

though, stuffy it could get
within the confines of each other’s
hot heads
full of pressure

venting fumes into the atmosphere
surrounding our bodies
pressed tightly to each other
almost fusing

now, liquid pale reflections
in a bucket full of silver
when the spirit slips
a viscous wisp

into, white blue
pools of you
i trip and wobble
surface tension breaks

i dissolve
in reminiscence
sunfire reverie
cautiously swallowing smoke
i hold my breath

and seek to saturate my blood
with the fading echoes
of an ancient, timeless reunion
thereupon the rolling ghost

in silent semblance, reflection;
an interpretive dance
of two flames flickering
in tandem



to imitate the birth of the universe
the swallowing of nebulae in
whirling, cataclysmic implosion
we’d inhale the gasping sigh of spirit

how fragrant, once, was emptiness
now I see the difference

Consider the way the soul hovers
when out of body
The electrified air
before lightning meets its mark

Consider transit to another realm
in every forgotten dream
The way the mind breathes
when it is consumed in its silence

Consider wells of water
as your very emotions
Consider the rain as its source

How we find ourselves
pulsating in recognition

of our surroundings

Consider the space
between two atoms
See the universe
from afar

Consider the size
of an ant to a star

Consider the first breath one takes
when resurfacing from too much time
spent underwater

Spiraling

a vacuum in my sternum

drinking in the void
gasping for air in the emptiness



I reminisce of distances
leapt
in instances
kept
in memories
forever, lingering

How heavy can emptiness be?
Who am I who sees
not me?

Who are they

who could not stay
and did they ever know
my disarray?



I am

an erratic notion
of emotion
in motionless

vastness



I am spastic
jerking and tumultuous

in the openness 

of this
cosmic
loneliness

the endless
hindrance
of the intimate
i n f i n i t e

I take a step back

and I hold my breath

and I cherish it



I exhale

and I let go

and life ebbs

and life flows



I breathe it in again

believing all is real

in this temporary moment



A blurred snapshot of time

not beholden to memory

a simple blip against

a backdrop
 


swallowing 
me



And I exist

in those high-speed moments

when fear sets in

fully immersed, yet

unaware, 



when soft light pulses

to a beating city heart

on thoroughfares

in summer nights,



that we are

preciously enlivened

by that hurried energy

in a vast and eerie

cold, dead

peace

There, where the turning moon would then subsume, should I subsist
The new year births and I’m unearthed to linger yet persist
Unencumbered by my hunger; wonder what will die
As every day’s a new engagement toward a life aligned

Your leaving gleans a hope of breathing in the winds of change
For never more shall I abhor and be eclipsed: deranged
I’ve buckled since your resonance has likened me to death
As you depart, I hold my art to act where I’m bereft

I’ve left my heart to hold the old unstructured things I hate
To come and form upon new avenues allaying fate
Where once our coalescence was the essence of renewal
These cruel begotten, ever rotten shifts rend us in duel

I tether there my heart to severed parts of what was whole
I lie beneath the moon and am reborn, alone and full
To curse the moving ether would bring deeper separation
So by the rising tides of mindless time I find elation

Eating grapes from the vine

recumbent, regurgitating anachronistic archetypes

-who would have known hedonism to be so iconic-

repugnant, slow creeping dribble down the chin

such sultry stench still lingers

in the mouth of the pig

a torrent of fluid ‘something’

unclean

as is apt of this ritualistical endeavor

to stow away one’s unease

immaculate indulgence, defying the sanctity of spirit

When confronted with the inexplicable,
the human mind seeks to rationalize, 
explain,
and fit information into an established worldview.

When confronted with the incomprehensible, the mind recoils. 

It shrinks into and attempts to consume itself.

You cannot wrap self over self.
You cannot become the outer and the inner.
You are but a superposition of the visage of God;
a superficial reflection of divinity’s affection.

You cannot become the subconscious
of your subconscious.
You cannot become the intuition
of your intuition.  

You can shed the mind and be present.

You can breathe and connect
and form a circuit between;
be a conduit for varying information
of different vibrations and intensities.

Form a loop that spells infinity.

This transition is the interstitium;
where information acts synaptic;
where transference relays occurrence
between two spaces with different interfaces.

It is elastic.
It is magic in liminal plastic,
snapping back and creating
the dialogue with self.

It is a circuit of convergence
where purpose meets inertia.
It is neither beginning nor end.
It is betwixt real and pretend.

It can upend the rend
of space and face;
time and place, and waste and worth.

It interweaves the world with dreams
and breathes new life into your needs.
It knows you without knowing anything.

It knows your feelings,
and the concepts you can’t speak.
It is your mind not minding.
Infinity across dividing.

The sudden epiphany of absurdity

when reality has a way of mirroring us

like a funhouse



That explosion of laughter

and the relief that comes with it:

that it’s not so serious



I’m talking to myself

of taking the plunge

Jumping off the cliff

with not a doubt in my heart

that I will fly



and I’m listening to 
root chakra frequencies

but I didn’t even realize

until I saw myself

in the mirror



The truth?

I want to hold a hand

as I soar in metaphor

My feet still rooted to this land

for I know there’s more



So much to explore

but

I can’t do it alone

I won’t



All passion pouring

out of a hole

in the bottom 
of my sinking heart



I was always willing to drown

dissolve

become an ocean



before

i find myself moved by the beauty and ubiquity of love
eternally grateful for this life and all its feelings
to intimately coalesce with many layers and frequencies
of vibrations of consciousness
and to expand alongside them, relax and welcome grace

i believe that is what it means to be a healer
i am not manipulating energy
i am loving it and seeing it
simply opening myself to be there with it
and experience a transformation to openness

i will not spill or pour my heart out
i will leave it open;
live like a river flowing to the ocean
i will hum with this universe’s rhythms
dance in the elegance of its motions
i will commune with it

i have grown this year from seeing tremendous beauty
in an overarching force of pristine divinity
emanating through the Love vibration unto me,
and feeling blessed to be loved by Love
to finding that very feeling in my open heart,
expressed to this whole, vast and wonderful existence

I will be there with it
I will be there

Storms are not born
They are old as light
You cannot have power
but it is harnessed

There is no such thing as a river
but it shapes as it flows
You can only hold your breath for so long

The mind is a sieve
and a lattice
The heart, a prism
and a fathomless ocean

The world is a pebble in that dark;
a nascent dream
There is no loss of innocence
We are eternal, spanning across time

Only the eye knows,
before the mind’s grasp
All else is distorted

Once a flower blooms,
in that moment, it exists forever
There is nothing in creation that can change it
All is forever changed because of it

Power is but a ripple, or an echo
There is only embrace

From the start, we are entwined,
integrated solely with truth
All of life seeks to replicate this intimacy,
but only death can

I am an auric legacy of inexplicable secrets

of nearly saying what I mean,

but not quite having the words to speak it


I am a haze of feeling that fears the density

required to express the things
that truly make sense to me 



I am the internal rambling of a mind maddening itself

and the breadth of peace found in spiritual wealth

I am an analyzing inner voice without a choice

but to spew, spew, spew

just to observe the words as they keep flowing through


and I think that’s what I’m supposed to do 


I’m not attached to me or you;

it’s all just passing by

like gems of light as ripples on the blue



They never hear me clearly

they’re too busy pondering what they might say

and most often interrupting me
before I’ve had my stay

so I’m forced out again,

back into the echo chamber:

 “thought prison” 



Ironically, more liberated here than I could ever be

in someone else’s ear,
at least that’s what my ego’s telling me 

but so alone when I’m unheard,
no place is home amongst the herd


My thoughts are spurred in too many different directions

to understand the single minded group inspired predilection 

spreading through the collective like an infection

but it only scratches the surface



Deep beneath, I know the verses
,
hear the rhythm, feel the flow 

I know it grows
 like starlight
in the night, expanding


Such a natural thing
,
so I’ll just keep listening

I’ve spent some time just dancing in the wind

Twirling to and fro without a care

The breeze and me, we’ll always be akin

There’s something ancient lingering in the air



I’ve always been a decent acrobat

and always known the breeze could sooth my soul

The wind’s my oldest friend, I’m sure of that

When scattered in the sky, I find I’m whole



It started with my hands just mingling

tickled by the passing gusts of breeze

and in my finger tips a-tingling

I’d drop my woes and find myself at ease



Now, how I’ve grown, to write an ode to thee

wind of my mind, and nature’s levity

Once,

the sky sparkled with magic;

the air crackled with immortal flame;

the world trembled in the presence

of a living god



There,

in the awareness of the air,

the spirit of primeval man condensed

in resplendent metamorphosis



Once,

when the earth was tinged with memories

not yet transpired, but ever being,

and time combined itself with minds

collectively surrendered 



The timelessness of energy,

erected in its synergy,

bloomed flowers in the desert;

stars in the sea



The shimmering began

from deep within the eyes

of the holder of a welling heart,

and erupted



In this plume of genesis

converged the waters of love,

and the space of knowing,

and the fires of passion,

and the silt of growing



A cataclysmic schism

set aloft the birth of night,

and the sea of energy

wove from the darkness light



wrapped itself,

through dimensions overarching

enmeshed and ever-pulsing

blossoming into new worlds

entwined with all things


A cosmic resurgence

of doubt’s consuming

set aside the likes of mind

akin to never being



Sphere-struck

the Eye became many

a window to a woven world

now set apart from any

Know other, and thus

know thyself.



Know what thou art not 

and thyself shall unfurl

before thine eyes.



Yet, know thine eyes as thyself, 

and know no self before another.

One twine of thy spiral 

unwinding, whence

thy center point 

diverges, vast,

in multitudes amassed 

betwixt thee; the eye 

of the spiral of unwinding. 



Thy sleeping self, 

merely asleep

to life within a dream; 

awake to All 

aplenty.



Alas, in tangent vortices

all aspects of thee 

exist in mirrored reiteration.

Fractalescent bodies of one name.



Above the vortices 

converging round the center:

a greater maw.



A many weaving being, seeing
everything expanding in concentricity

round compounding sound,

the endless symphony;

ubiquitous infinite 

vibrations of eternity,

in resonant helical geometry. 



But these are just the roots..



Somewhere, 

amidst the canopy, ever-thriving

disseminating light,

crystalline dimensions break the mind

splitting time in two.



And there are

infinities in every inch…

every inch of me

and you.



A billion years of histories;

a billion people,

a trillion different views.



All, interconnected

through the dissection

of light projected dimensions

of intention wrapped, 

and woven endlessly

around a gaping space of emptiness

chock-full of energetic collectives.



Each an individual unto themselves.



I think, maybe, that’s what angels are.



Accumulations of many universes;
pulsating orbs of holographic light,

teeming and erupting with the knowledge

of a love that cannot be contained

by illusory space.

I wake this morning to soft white,

welcoming overcast skies

the wind surge goes to and fro 

misting pitter patterned rain

upon my window pane



Each thrush and intermittent hush

coaxes my heart back to sleep

and after the rock tense stress of yesterday

it’s a well needed reprieve



For someone so prone to noise sensitivity

I sure do love birdsong, and the static

background, whispering wind


even the humming, mechanical noise, in the distance

contributes as an instrument in an unscripted song

and the cars passing by on the road play along



I think about how poetry can be

struggling to unwrap yourself

when you’re all wound up with rope

and ending up tripping

because every one way ties you up another



Or it can be rhythmic and enchanting;

a magical dance with fate and space

where the mind locks in and the heart beats

in tune with passing waves above, around, within

and everything is beautiful til the heart sinks



because it’s frustrating, knowing

some days the ocean fills you up

and you’re levitating

and it’s POWER in its most essential form

choosing you, flowing through you

and nothing can stop the poem from being born



other days, staring at a page

eyes glazed over, heart full of rage

wanting catharsis, fearing art has become

just a sensitive kid who’s afraid to take the stage



don’t look at me, don’t see me, please

if you don’t care, don’t fake it

i miss the days I’d freely say

whatever stole my heart to break it



but don’t forget me, please forgive

i can’t do this alone

i’ve given everything to this

i’ve made this place my home



all the while the funny little mind wanders

casting prismatic pebbles in the dark

for just a glint

whilst the great cosmic laughter erupts

and the hologram blinks

exposing everything
as light

this poem is intentionally bad on purpose

Thou, shall I compare, then,
to a sunmer day?
as that it is that thy art splendiferous in a way of which
i cannot thee abate

so bright is your effusion
that it shines
and they say that it’s light that’s divinely fine

if a red rose can’t be sweet without it’s thorns
your complexion around which all beauty dost be adorned
girl you make me feel so incredibly warm
and fuzzy inside
i don’t need to watch ****

id rather talk to you and i can tell you that that is true
because before we were one and now we make 2
but im so close to you girl i think it might actually be true
we were one all along but now were won that’s new

i know we just met on tinder the other day
but bae
please tell me forever that you will stay

Being, freely being
to manifest in purity
align with authenticity

Embrace my abnormalities

to coalesce with clarity



because truth

is where I’m meant to be;

the meaning of life

breathing life into me


A reason for believing

when I’m born to be achieving
Me



I’ll trust in the touch

that touches deeply,

bleed into the energy

seeing me perceiving, 


when I’m gleaming with integrity

as is my integration 

with vibrations of eternity



I was, and will forever be

exactly as I’m meant to

I trust in my essential being

and surrender, as to bloom



I am Love in full expression;

no digression, lest I suffocate

In being born, and all Life’s lessons,

with truest self, I integrate

my heart yearns
in shouts that span the sky
but i found love stumbling
into a hole in the wall

in a momentary interaction
vanishing

maybe there is hope for me yet

Dark falls
I am mired in sludge
The wetlands shrouded by fog

My mind entrenched in haze and solitude
I grow weak  
with each step I seem to falter
exhausted in the task of moving forward
alone in the deep wilderness
covered in mud  

Ever shall I seek the sun
Forever til I’m warmed
Oh, golden rays,  
please supplant me my cold  

How uninspired
when water seeps
into coagulated dirt  

Once, there was bounty
art, in the higher reaches
of the atmosphere

Forever gazing upon the sky
into the beyond

Now all around me
there are shadows

Density of overgrowth
upon the horizon

Death where my feet meet the ground
This drudgery, though necessary,  
hurts  

I keep looking up
only to realize  
I am taking my gaze away
from my surroundings  

I’ve forgotten where I’m going

I am in hiding from the unabashed sun

The clouds drift overhead and shade my view

But every time it peeks out from behind

I rear my eyes, I stay inside, 

but through the windows

It tickles my face

Licks at my watering eyes

Laughing at me



I am sad on this beautiful day

I am alone and cherishing things not had
Wishing for a friend

Lively conversation

Beauteous, poetic, saturated melody

To serenade the natural landscape

A sprawling painting

A perfect illustration of untamed uniformity

Alas
I am
Fettered in a box

Rotting away

As my eyes gain weight
but never alleviate

Their dams and turn to drying

Alliteration is hard



An amusing affectation afforded against all authenticity

Living lies luxuriously, lamenting in my lowly lacking

Leering lackluster; levity lost loquaciously

In interest inimitable, isolated in illusions illustrated incoherent

To take triumph, tackle tumult; tie treaties toward the torment’s trite theatrics

Elevate exposure, even entrenched in evanescence; expectation eventually ends; elation endures

Revitalize, remember; roaming rot relinquished retroactively

Again, an avenue against accustomed aggravation; art alleviates

Traveling to taste time’s tales; a taxing task toppled

Indebted, in individuality’s internment, innovated; inundated in insight

On overarching opportunity’s offerance, one overcomes oblivion

Nothing neglected, new nights near; nidificate nuance, newly niche November

My mind rambles

until it’s time to write



Maybe I should meditate

on an empty page