I sunk to the bottom of the ocean once. Though it wasn't really all that grand. Everything that I saw was either shrouded in darkness, or a silty haze. The water was cold and the currents were violent. They ****** me too and fro.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like it there at the bottom of the ocean, it's calm and it's dark and it soothes the fires of a soul like mine. The passage there however is the part that hurts so much, for before you may sink into the silky silt of the ocean floor and become neighbors with the *****, you must descend through the turbulence and the dangerous anglerous fish that inhabit the places betwixt.

I suppose the hardest part about the journey is saying goodbye to the sunshine that you grew to love, after having spent time, from the ocean floor.

Someone drags you up and you see the sun and you start to laugh more, and you start to love more and everything starts to feel warm and beautiful again. You look at that someone that brought you up and wrought you into shape and  you see such beauty. They shine like the sun, no, they are even better.

But sometimes,

They abandon us.

That is not to say we are doomed to sink back down, they do not hold us here, as we do not hold them. We are free to remain on the surface with the sunlight.

Most of us choose to jump back in, though.

Let the ocean swallow us whole once again.

Some swim back to the surface, determined to, perhaps, be more than a friendly newspaper conversation with a crustacean.

However, many just live there, unwilling, unable, to go anywhere else.

I sunk, to the bottom of the ocean once. Or twice, and a few times after that. Always finding a reason to swim back, sometimes I am dragged back. No matter which way though and honestly, how matters not, I always end up back on that beach.

Waiting, watching the ocean. Wondering, pondering the possibilities and if I should wade back out and sink down once again.

The ocean surely is a frightful thing.

The street was dark and so too were my eyes
I walked down the cobble under darkened skies
I walked down the stone, ankle breakers sets
Gamblers in the alleys watching on, making bets

The buildings stand guard on the night for their lords
keeping them safe, open their mouths; in filth pours
Light poles, with dim candles, give hope for safe journey
Dark alley ways steal eyes, make nervous muscles in our sides

Window light, guardian ports, fly catchers, laundry holes
Shines on the street, waiting for me, with it meet
Footsteps creep around edges avoiding sight
But it’s easy to see, all this going on in the night

Out of law exchangers making changes in pocket stuff
50 for the things, that make pigs squeal, illegal deal
Children's eyes are shut, in bed, not here with us
Tucked in warm and tight, not here with the people of the night

Street sweepers weep, we drink, bottles broken at our feet
Bar tab one too many, stumble, mumble, home on the street
Pickpockets delight, puts up no fight, pockets empty when drunk
Bourgeoisie snobs make prison demands! Lock them away tight!

The street, is *****, I know, I do
But this is o.k, with wary watch

For indeed

In the absence of the light
Come the People of the night

It's 2 minutes till ten, what will I do till then?
Those two minutes will pass, surely I will not notice
And in two minutes when they have, I will be in bed
Though the same can be said for the next 80 years
When the time will have passed the same, except I will be dead

I remember when time stood still
Slowed until there was none to ****

I stood in alive among the frozen
Those around me found me warm
I unlike they, still had a sense of when
From the standstill I had been torn

I looked at the birds in flight in the sky
Each on it's way to a place far from home
They do it though they don't know why
Yet still they fly and still they roam

The sun shone through the august leaves
Painting the world their ancient hues
On the river side on that eve of eves
Why time had stopped, I had no clue

I remember when time stood still
Slowed until there was none to ****
But in the same instant sprang back alive
And I guess I'll never ever know why

If guilt and mistakes are at stake
And you're stuck in a rut that's deep with door closed shut
I urge you to break open windows and take, take what you know
And put it in a skill
Use your strength and your will
For only you, this soil, can till
I want you to walk boardwalks and talk to crowds
Convey your heart and speak out loud
To draw and write the things you feel
For though it is not original, or perhaps good enough to show others
You've given yourself something that is real

If the past clings to your ankles and you can't shake it's shackles
Take the rings of iron bound to your feet and break the bindings
The past will not last in your mind anyhow and how you know that you're free
Is when you are able to stand and accept life's steep, and harsh fee
And move and go and know and live and be happy, regardless of it's toll
And if you can do this than you have done more than all the rest who feel best
And you have beaten the ultimate test
For happiness comes sparingly in short bursts
And if you're simply warily comparing the outcomes of actions
Then you are not alive, and the beauty will pass you by
and the chance for happiness will digress and leave you alone

If you can hear then you listen to songs, and words
the footsteps the heartbeats, the wind in the tree's and it's birds

If you can see then you look at the art on the walls that apart from yourself
Can still bring to you some beauty in heart
You look at the bridges in Vermont that in the orange flush fall
Paint the world their colors as they fall from tree's that stand tall

And you like that tree should stand in the wind and not bend to the fate
For when you move with the wind you'll find that happiness does not wait

So as you stare from the window in the stone house you have built
As the flowers you brought from outside are gone, or start to wilt
And you see the sunshine line the paths that you know you should walk
And the people who stand in bands with whom you know you should talk
I hope that the cold of the stone which for years you have known
Serves reminder to find the courage to walk through the door which you abhor
And find the life and light and peace that I know the world for you, has in store.

Just be honest, my love
I know why it is like this
The dull shine in your eye
The ash I taste in your kiss

I know who you are, love
Why we must be this way
Why the river flows so cold
Why the clouds cover the day

I found it in your heart, dear
The darkness that I now see
My heart is rotten, love
You are right, to run from me

Stones settle on the riverbed
The water rushes on for now, but
Someday where the river is fed
Will dry, and the river will bow

To her, o' earth so dear

And the stones will still remain
Unmoved, but not quite the same
A little worn away, some but a sliver
Having lived with the mighty river

I hate that ******* night light
It burns my eyes while I lie awake
I would be unaware that I were aware
If not for that unfortunate night light

It's prying at my eyes, open though they already be
On the edge of my bed, and no words cross my mind
There is no color in my heart while I wait
With the oddest symmetries underlying out of sight
Awake, there is me, is there a wake?

But it doesn't matter
and I sit here with that light
That night light who I hate so
While I lay awake, it taunts me
Though I am not awake on it's account

Does it ever unnerve you to think, at night, at home
That despite the innumerable odds for life elsewhere
We are, or to the extent of our knowledge, all alone?
This I find, is nearly too much at times to bear

Does it ever unnerve you to think, at night, in bed
That despite the billions of people on this earth
You rarely meet new people, because of all you left unsaid?
Due to some misplaced, and wrong sense of self worth?

Does it ever unnerve you to think, at dusk, at home
That despite both the innumerable odds for life elsewhere
And the billions of people on this earth, we still feel alone?

What's it like at the bottom of the ocean
I will tell you if you but simply lend an ear
The silt is disturbed by the slightest motion
And know one here, I know, knows fear

Mostly, because there is no one here at all
As it is dark and cold, and weighs heavy on you
And no seasons either, neither summer nor fall
And, unlike what you'd think, it's black, not blue

Down here, yes, this abyssal plain is my home
Near the edge of an oceanic trench, even deeper
And while yes, I am far from light and sea foam
I couldn't find rent elsewhere that was any cheaper

I don't mind it so much, to be completely honest
I mean, you're always free to visit, if you can
I'd rather be here, with nothing on my chest
And nothing but the cool black and the sand

I have become so still
Like the water of a pond
And will stay this way until
Come the rains, oh so fond

I have become so silent
Like the grass of a plain
This way to remain, until
The winds come again

I have become so patient
In waiting for noise, I know
Sound; as it came and went
It will come and go

You bring only rain
I said, and I looked
Off in the distance
A chilly gray day

You bring only cold
You said, and I listened
But you said in time
That you still loved me

And only then
Did I hear the rain
When it was gone

And I realized in time
That I still love you

I tried to be like the winter
Cold in my words and talks
Like my words were ice
And prose was an icebox

I tried to be the winter
An indifferent little soul
My deeds unheeded indeed
But the freeze did takes its toll

I wanted listen to the rain
White breath on my window
All I could hear was icy wind
And always did it blow

And always will it blow

The wind rushes by
With an unseen push
Of an untouched sound
In the dark December sky

The trees speak to me
In the cold raking air
Branches outstretched
Like fingers through hair

Yet I do not understand
What it is they try to say
But I find littered leaves
Evidence, found in day

The wind yet pushes by
A pressure on the soul
To whisper long lost secrets
Trapped in a currents pull

I don't feel like sleeping right now, not now
Even though, I know, I have somewhere to go
Oh so ******* early in the morning
Even when I would normally then be glad
That as I am in bed, resting my weary head
That when I woke I would have a full day ahead

Yet I do not feel like sleeping right now
I have this feeling, this creeping in my head
And when normally I would love to sleep
Away from problems and plights alike
Away from anger and that stupid night light
I want to say all I have left in life unsaid

But, alas and alack to bed I must go, you know?

The beat of moth wings
The current of the wind

What the nighttime brings
What gentle songs it sings

The slow sway of the trees
The ground covered in leaves

What an orchestra to hear
As the morning draws near

Each day as I write
For you and myself

I feel my heart beat
The current of the words

I feel the sway of my soul
Words fall down the page

What the nighttime brings
What gentle songs I sing

But only, for you.

A stranger of the past is walking in these shoes
Any where I venture, he too has, will, and must go
The stranger of times long ago to me and you
Is simply a distant and vague shadow of an echo

And when together we meet, and meet for the last
He will not be a stranger, before myself to see
The stranger and I will walk together, yet one shadow cast
As I know him well, for this man is me

The mountains will know no path, though they are mine
That I cannot scale with a new friend beside
And this world will not long keep it's secrets to hide
As the stranger with myself, comes along for the ride

I wear a watch that does not run
Stopped at exactly midnight
Or at least somewhere around there
I haven't checked in a time

I wear my empty heart in my eyes
That clings in dark circles
Making dark my listing gaze
I haven't seen much though

I wear my thoughts out loud
Oh wait, no I speak them
Right, but if I could wear them
I wouldn't be so upset

I wear my deepest desire
Most secret and guilty it is
On my voice, in it though
I can't sing such unfairness

I wear on most of all
Though I feel like stone
Weathered by drops of me
Dropping down, and only down

One day, said the moon
I will touch the earth
I wish to be there soon
I wish to know it's worth

But that day never came
As she drifts slowly away
But in the surface of our ponds
She's left an image of her face

In the dark and swooning night

There is a silence within a garden
A patience in those growing things
A gentle waiting, a caring pardon
For the pain we tend to bring

No words are spoken by the plants
As they unfurl from the earth
They do not need to, nor understand
The reason for their birth

A garden knows what has come to pass
What we have done, for what we yearn
It grows slow, but has one thing of us to ask
Some water, and a little patience in return

I left my window open at the bottom of the sea
The cold air blew in past the angler fish to me
And I caught a bug, but not in a glass jar
While the currents swept me away quite far

I lay in bed, and I stare into the ocean deep
Wondering what out there, there could be?
If I knew, then I'd know where to go, to be
But I don't, so I sit here, with the company of me

In the dark, I see you.

I see your room, dim and weird. Unusual artifacts from an unusual archeologist, digging through the sediment of life, littering shelves.

I see your face, framed by loose hairs from a lazy bun, all over a poorly fitting hoodie.

I see your hands, more aged than I remember, with your various rings, punctuating the oddities of your personality, acquired over a life strangely lived.

I see your tattoos, a reflection of choices and things believed at one point or another. People who influenced, and ideas that crept into prominence. I don't like tattoos, but they are like stained glass windows, and I can see their beauty, as you shine through them.

I see your car, on a mountain road. I can hear you loudly proclaim, expressions of grief, and through them, expressions of relief. A venting process, an opportunity to raise your voice and yell! To shake a stick at God, not knowing if he sees you, but knowing that I do.

I can see the three days we spent together lined up in a row, like photographs in a reel. A moment at the University, holding my hand, and my ever so subtle embarrassment at the notion. A prolonged eye contact over coffee that's not that great, but servicable as a context for deep conversation. A long phone call, after a short text, after a long time, from a short lived love.

I can see your eyes, looking back at me, wondering what I see in you. In their reflection, I think the same. I can see the shape, and the eye-shadow, applied meticulously or perhaps lazily, I'm not sure.

I can smell the lotion you use, I guess it's the same you've always used. It takes me back to hiking short hikes in non hiking county, sitting over an ugly creek on an old rusted pipe. Yet in those moments the world could not have been any more beautiful.

I can feel your hair in my hands, a soothing motion, attempting to smooth the notion, the conversation, that was ugly and disgraceful, but necessary.

I know in my heart , what you mean to me. I know that I love you, and feel no shame at saying as much.

Around you, I am free. My soul bared, I melt on to you, and carbonize, like sugar burning in a pan. How stuck I have become.

"Let a pan sit in warm water with some dish soap, before using the rough side of a sponge to remove stubborn food and stains."

Some cleaning advice from me to you.

In the dark, I see you. You glitter like the stars. In the distance, you dance in perfect harmony.

But like every astronomer, I too must accept, no matter how much I love the stars, I cannot go to them.

I watch, through my telescope of memory, where only in the dark, can I see you

Stand within the rivers tide
Feel the cold go rushing past
Only to run away and hide
From the stones that we all cast

Leave alone the reckless liar
And soon he'll tell no lies
The soldier with no war will retire
As the lover with no love never cries

With all the rain, comes another
To follow the rain all once more
To a flame it has come to smother
For the sins on it's soul that it wore

So much is grown from singular seeds
All that is sown are our bygone deeds

No harvest we reap, in this life or those which follow
Does not run deep, with the touch of our shadow

For the roots of lives run deep, tangled with the roots of all others
Dark rains will fall, seep, and we'll drink the same as our brothers

Our best shot for the sun, is to swiftly grow tall
But when it's over and done, we're alone after all

Yet, you like all else were born of a single seed
You, with all else, were of the exact same breed

The air is hot, these winter days
With the wind blowing from uphill
Howling on the mouths of caves
Sounds to me like the same old swill

Pick red, or pick the blue pill
We're already down the rabbit hole
We've still got some time; to ****
Before the smoke swallows us whole

I am of glass, my edges rough, fringes taper
My merits could hide between sheets of paper
Deep down, where dreams rest, far below
I am afraid that I forgot to shut a window

I am lackluster, my glow slowly fades
Like planets in the sky, who don't actually shine
On paper, or to hide, lets draw the shades
Equally distant are we though, that's fine

I was a fish, before a man
The ocean was my home
I walk, where once I swam
At the edge of the sea foam

I walk next to the shoreline
Next to bending, bowing
Blue daisies in a jagged line
Sea winds overhead howling

I was a fish, before all this
In seaweed hidden caves
Unaware of the ocean mists
And the beauty of the days

I was stolen by a kind hand
From spinning dark and salt
To dry out, reeling on the sand
As my world came to a halt

Still, here I walk, on this beach
With visions of the seafloor
This world, is out of my reach
As is the sunlight that I adore

Soon, I'll be a fish again
Waiting silent in the shade
Yet, I will continue until then
To walk as man, as I was made

I walked a path I knew
Lead to the old oak tree
Where the wind blew
On bark carved you and me

I walked a path I knew
Where our love was bound
Where the oak tree grew
And burned it to the ground

I am a field of grain
Golden to the dirt
I bend as winds wane
Without joy, and hurt

I am the water of a pond
Deep as the earth permits
Where fish may abscond
When rain droplets hit

I am a tree, ancient now
With roots wound deep
I tap the waters all around
Where only silence keeps

I wrote a song with a good friend of mine
We sat drinking tea, laughing, our thoughts we wore
In these early days of winter, the wind does whine
It makes me love life, and hope for something more

Why do we write
When pain comes
And we feel the bite
Of lost life and loves

Our words are cast
To an infinite ocean
On islands as outcasts
A melancholy motion

I feel my soul bend
Warping under weight
Monsters must I fend
As I buckle under hate

I remember standing, somewhere on that rusted dock, the river boat on the murky waters of our flooded city.
Deep fogs and smog set on the setting sun, and we just rode over the gentle currents of the deep.
Over the sunken houses and cars, over the parks and apple trees. I remember looking out on the white cedar swamp, near the
shack we built atop a mountain. Sky scrapers stood out of the water, waning in the current of a new world, and we
road our river boat on.

My bones ache, for reasons I cannot name
In the dawn of a cold and moonless night
I would like to say I left, yet still I remain
Under a sky without it's lonely  light

In the winter winds
the sun ascends

and then descends
as the day then ends

The sum of which
is not so clear

as winter winds blow
as will continue to go

The passing of days

I found a wasp inside my room
Fed it sugar water, let it roam
I cannot know if it deserved to die
And I'm sure that it too has a home.

Odd thoughts I thought naught of
But in the middle of the night I ought
To go to bed, I've had enough
Odd dreams, sought to be caught

Awake by some gentle light
In the middle of the night

When I close my eyes
My eyes do still see

The blues of the skies
The leaves of the tree

When I begin to write
Open'd gate to my soul

The birds emerge in flight
And disappear from sight

I sit at the bottom of the ocean
Waiting for my friends to come
But they like birds, fly, don't sink
What is all of this?  I think

I sit at the bottom of the ocean
On the cliff of the deepest trench
What a dreadful, likely notion
The edge yet remains my bench

As the dust gently settles
As cold weather sets in
Will you find your way?

Will you remember the way
Through grasses long passed
On paths unknown and unpaved

There was a time, when once
Forgetting was found, in us
We were bound to be undone

As dust settles
In wintered lands
Will you find your way?

I do not know what's in your heart
But this is something I know in part
If sadness is something that we all share
Then know this also, I very much care

In the dew
In the grass

With the morning chill

With the bugs
With the birds

Sitting on a hill

You I saw
yes only you

Calling out my name

And I know
as you know

Love is anything but tame

4:22 am blinks

I like being here so late at night
When I am the only one alive
When I don't feel lonely anymore
There is no one to talk to anyhow

I will close my eyes to sleep and know
When I wake, everyone is awake
And then there are people I can talk to
But I wont, or I cant, so I am lonely


4:22 is the witching hour

But I like being the only one alive

It keeps me awake
then
It keeps me asleep

It seeps like well water
as
Virginia vines may creep

It is who I am
yet
Not at all

I am defined by it
though
I am in control