I want to read you

Like the fine print

In the Terms and Conditions

Written in Braille

So I can feel

Every word written

On your heart

Her voice all wind chime
Her hair wind dressed electricity
Galaxy bright presence behind those lips
To match her constellation built freckles
Finding chimera laid in her gracious green eyes
This woman has become
My favorite subject to study

It reminded me of the way you talk

Repetitive.

A perfection of revolutions.

Telling me of things already known.

I tasted the ignorance on your lips.

Fill me up with your everything.

Your breath. The wind.

Stale air.

I don’t feel cool.

You’re pushing air in circles.

Chopping up all the times I asked for forgiveness.

Forgive me.

Until this moment.

Please give me a breeze of all the moments you have watched me act ungodly.

In the presence of god and all of his creation I will tell you the stunning amazement that is the northern lights.
The way that god will drain the tub he relaxes in. Just so we can be rained upon by this phenomenon called aurora borealis. Graciously dancing across the sky we have known as blue. Knowing it is nothing more than a universe full of questions I am afraid to ask. So tell me.

I want to know how they felt 100 years ago. How did your culture interpret this magic sky shifting juncture that formed ballets above them. Tell me how they navigated the north star. A fixture in the sky meaning nothing but everything to the right person. Finding the broken piece between reality and imagination. Our compass has been thrown off by the deception lain across our flesh.

Let this culture lead by example. That we may one day step outside our lightbulb lives and exist in the moment that we use to call the world. Moments like sunsets and the things we refer to as constellations. May those anomalies cross your brain, find you broken in bed. Clawing out of your chest trying to show you what it is to feel. Embrace what your ancestors left. Dreams of a sustainable culture. Get off your ******* phone and cross the lagoon. Respect the chucks of history laid on your shoulder. It is not just a chip.

May those moments haunt you in your dreams. And have the culture injected into your veins. Have this as a message. Fill your dreams with nightmares of a village under water. Drowning in learned helplessness. Not understanding which direction is up when the clouds are out.

America has taught us that the past is irrelevant. That in historical events we have always made the best decision. That slavery was justified, if you ask the right person. Columbus was god upon men. Yesterday is gone for we will embroider the memories of what once was into any shape we desire. And America has given up and now PBR belongs to Russia.

This stand is for you, Inupaiq Eskimos. Let the Eskimo games begin. Show this culture that you have not forgotten the importance of your ankles. The function of chasing Caribou. May the preservative dust upon the shelf as you are dusting the tundra for dinner. Shall we build a fortified wall around the unique skills no one will dig their fingernails into.

Live off the land under the toes of the greedy americans. Show them the flowers that have been stomping upon and how these flower heal the broken hearts held in their chest. The flat land that is looked after as boring with a hint of forgotten. Show them the importance of leveled landscape. Where to find the hidden dips in the skin of our earth. How your bones will forgive you for this moment of rest.

I will never be an Eskimo. I have only live here for a few months of my life. But ****** son, stand up with your spine into your skull. Connecting you with right now and days we have left behind. Please take a moment. Read a book. Learn a trade. Apply the sinews attached to the bones in your chest, and take a moment to breathe in your heritage. Take your first breathe and see life, as it is meant to be.

The day of what once was yours and will forever be read with your voice.

"Did you actually kiss her? Get me a diet Pepsi. Or l,the occasional. Don't be a *******." These are the words that resound love through the drywall heart I have here. This is only the second time I have thought About you. On this day. Well this is the second day of you being gone. It's so much easier believing you only leave once a year. Imagining 364 other days of disappearance melts my shins into crayons splattered on ***** carpets. That ***** impossible to get out. I got some new shoes and I would love to show you. They have helped me walk since you left. My knees are doing okay. It's the inners that don't always stand as tall as they should. My spine curves into a mended embroidered heart with broken springs  .... I really love the idea. I am not good with
seeing, but I would love to tell you that home is where the heart is... That your heart is home with me. Because if my heart is found in jack in the boxes, full of energy entwined with extra stitching and barrel rolls stuffed with memories I can't keep in my glove. Then you equipped me with metal braced joints grinding on friction laced sinews, connected with everything I thought was suppose to be true. Home is intentional. Define your existence and discover the purpose of trusting intangible options slanted between us. I trust you. I always have. The reality is that my cylindrical box of chest bones locked in a cage understands  power. Power enough to tie my shoes. I want you to know how  my shoes handle okay without you. I'm here. Writing, about you and that one day. This Mother's Day I want you to realize that you're day will be here. I'll find you in ***** sea water, dropping out of the last day of college, and chasing that perfect woman. You showed me it. Everything. Lets sleep dark concepts and understandably crossed with altered mentalities. The sun, that's where you started, please stay with me here. We will get warm soon. We are on a crooked edge of the universe wondering how to exist. We are here and now. You showed me how to be here. Because without here your love would have never existed. Here is where everything needs to be.

The more you talk
The less I retain.
The more attention I lack
The less motivation I contain
The more I want to leave
The less these pages ring pure and true
The more things that mean less.
Give me meaning. Application. Knowledge.
Until then, be silent, let this experience speak.

I took off...

As if I ever landed.

Like my landing gear actually deployed this time.

It was a crash.

A beautiful escape.

Directional disappearance into an oblivion of no regrets.

The smoke settled to reveal emergencies.

Love me like something tragic.

Stretch your arms across mountains to reach my heart so it will continue to palpitate.

I can't teach myself to feel the love you give me.

Let's have a show and tell.

Show me your love and I'll tell you all about how a universe of explanations won't relate how I feel.

We flew together.

In no specific direction.

But it was our exact path of destruction.

Destroying every falsified rumor ever fed to us in sippy cups made from our spilt past.

So we never really landed.

Let's never arrive.

As the school day ended and my students disappeared through the door,

I sat and took my first breathe,

And thought

Somedays I make a change in the world, other days the world makes a change in me.

Today I don't think either of those things happened.

The sand mustn't worry
for the wave will always return

I watched you get opened like the front page of a book that has already been written off. They took the words out of you mouth, plastered them across their beards and chugged them down with no hesitation. We don't have time for Icehouse and regret today. The fridge needs some company anyways.

Just frost the tips of the repression that occurred every time you winced your eyes at me, I knew to look the other way because blinding my memories with hate is no way to stroll into a future. I hate you for every beer drop you spilled on my potential. I hate you for ever false promise that dropped from your lungs.

I ******* hate everything about the way you wasted space in the compact ford escort of our house.

The smoke on your breathe expels lies and deceit. You have been playing the same ******* beat since yesterday afternoon of forever ago. It has rattled a family with fortified backbones into crumbled stones in a forgotten sandbox that simply lost touch with its inner child.

I feel like this is a bark through a mega phone in the forest that no one heard the tree fall.It's evident you're not capable of the contract you magically ripped apart with pen. You toxically signed the paper that set a fate challenge for an angel who never had a chance.

I need up being the sone of a *****, because after 44 years you have not taken responsibility for a single move you have made. I am still paying forward the pathetic slacks in your line. You never even took me fishing

When you fall asleep I will still kiss your upper back.  This does not take place in hope that you will wake up, I want my kiss to seep into your nerve endings and find myself in your dreams. Dripping my kiss into every ounce of your future.

As I take a look at the book on the dusted end table.  The pages hugging like too many people in a subway going too many places all with the same stop. The cover being the perfect misrepresentation of its contents. Comfortablely controlling the chaos that lays upon its tree filled inters. Words have been violently thrashed on to each page. Filled with names, verbs, destinations all of which were unexpected and uninvited.

I cradle this book into my dry palms. Run my imperfect fingertip across the spine with a chill. Pry back the very protective cover created to keep strangers from entering it's home. My eyes cast over the detailed words implanted on the inner walls. Absorbing each and every miniscule idea from the stationary knowledge upon each page.

Days pass as the final page has arrived. The book is placed back on the end table. Lonely and longing. We are far too similar me and this book. We both share a cover used to show too many people too little about the brilliance we hold. Too many people have passed us up without giving a second thought. There have been words typed into my brain stem without me asking for them to be put there. Every single person that explores us will find different knowledge

Her eyes became the only sunrise I needed
Palms a landscape of familiar territory
The hair on her head
The hair on her head
The hair on her head
It suffocates me sometimes
Makes me feel vibrant
Teeth full of star shine
I took to studying the imperfections of her body
To find the stories in her scars
Memorize the curvature of her spine
The swagger of her walk
These things replay in my mind
Just as darkness never falls in the arctic during summer
She does not leave my mind in the present

Worn rough below my eyes
Growing without apology
9 months of love
My face has stayed warm
Thanks to you, beard
Storms fall weak to you
The wind a faint tickle
A smile in disguise
Your warm embrace
Has held me captive
Cheers to many more days
Of hugging my face

Time is wrinkled hands of a father
Reminding me that there is still more to do here
Time has not run on empty
Smiles lifting pages of the history channel
Time has seasoned us into working machines
Grinding geared up perspective
Time will not forget this body
Each tick a reminder of phenomenal
Time asks one thing of us
Do not waste a single moment
Because that may be all you have

It's natural to be afraid

So step into this

Be terrified with me

Some days are better than others
Any day is better than none

The coffee dripping down my throat
Was okay
Lights seemed obnoxiously interrupting
Which was fine
Sound reached me at an average speed
I guess better than being deaf
My blood didn't get enough sleep
Eyes a little timid of objectionable presence
I was a teacher today
Seen better days
But it was honestly
Okay
Average found me accepting
Warm embrace of spinal taps
Laying my head on my pillow
Was decent
I will find tomorrow in its entirety
Willing to exist in awkward small talk
During bad weather
Moderately mumbling about ordinary things
Like today

Today plunges

Into yesterday

Therefore politely

Remind us

To explore

These words

For they

Will impact

Our future

Alone lives under your breast plate

inside of you

It lives behind the curtains of us all

Take a deep breath,

now expel the broken air

You now understand,

We are all similar,

We are alive.

We are humans,

With hearts bending bones each and everyday.

With these hearts,

we love the best we know how.

May you remember to stand up straight
May your spines be flagpoles
Sailing your heart at full mast
The caps in your knees full of steel
Unstoppable in your travels of Alaskan tundra

Let your mind grow roots in your culture
May your hunger for knowledge
Be that of a (amaguq) wolf
Never give up on yourselves
For I will never give up on you

The hardest parts of me
Need to softest touch of your love

I have been waiting
for her to pick me off the shelf

To remember me as fondly
as I dream of her nightly

Wanting nothing more than to be
used like her favorite toy

The one she played with as a child
when holding each other came simple

For her to lay me next to her heart
during the dim nights under gods shadow

Giving up on the complexities
of the never ending day before us

While engulfing each other in stories
of an emotion we remembered as love

Today I thank the wind

For never giving up on my lungs

Today I thank the earth

For supporting my feet

Today I thank the clouds

For protecting me from myself

Today I thank the sea

For the depth of unknown we all possess

Today I thank you all

For make this life worth living

Steps to taking the easy way out

1. Take the bullets out of the gun. Leaving your family is harder than one thinks.

2. Love your self. For some days the hate will have ****** dammed into your sub conscious, convincing you of your futile existence.

3. When hanging yourself, forget how to tie knots. Loosen your pain. Use the rope to anchor yourself, stand your ground.

4. Repeat steps 1-3. These situations will occur again. Don't be afraid to memorize your worth.

5. Keep the medicine cabinet closed. There are demons behind those double doors that want to dissect you.

6. Breathe.

7. Stop running. This isn't a marathon.

8. Take the bullets back out of the gun, you are not in season and so refuse target practice.

9. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat step 9 until enlightenment occurs.

I want you to be my forest fire.
A natural disaster to incinerate the tall standing regrets of my past. Casting the darkness over the people I've taken advantage of and things I'' never admit to be true.
Expose my shadows.

Cleanse the dirt I have trampled upon.
Lake Tanner, I'm sorry. Mom, I'm sorry.
People whose footsteps molded my heart into a perfect sandcastle bomb waiting for high tide.
Renew my inners.

Heat up these lungs so I an no longer speak.
Burn memories into my throat,
That way my heart understand a new beginning.
Building empires of renewed crowns in my smile.
Exhaust my lies.

Let me regrow into something pure.
Away from the broken forest of my past.
Exposure into something more than myself.
Water my roots,
Watch me take flight from this earth.

Another sway implies my natural maliability
Bring me the seasons in whatever form
Allow them to graze the forest in my fingertips
Gliding me in all directions
Always returning home
Roots galloping in the storm
Nurturing nature as it was meant to be
Frosted ice may find my shivers relaxed
I will not say no to this
Or any other thing for that matter
For i am a tree and cannot speak
And I do not believe you would listen
If I could

Living alone in the arctic circle has challenges of its own.
The weather drops to negative sixty degrees
and during the winter months wolves watch you breath.
Although this is a challenge I have found a challenge of my own.


So, hey asked me, "Is there anything wrong, Jon?"
I tell them no.
I tell them I am fine.
That I am happy.

The cold, grips at my vocal chords.
As the tundra spreads across my veins my body numbly forgets where I am.
The mind that works all to often takes a vacation of blankets and existence.
My fingertips sent in their two week notice without the strength to give a reason of departure.

I am swimming in ice.
Whaling like a baby, with everything to say and no one to understand.
Rolling over the same spot that I swear I can melt into water.
The weather looks down upon me, with closed ears.
Negligent to the heart inside of my chest.

Running away does nothing but create distance.
My problems will never be further than the bottom of a bottle.
Finding and reaching for the tongue out of my mouth.
Asking me to accept the fate dropped before me.

Mimicry, to act or mimic another object or animal.
I became the tundra that day.
Unforgiving to the existence in my chest.
Misunderstanding to the tender chords that hold up life.
Leading on that my heart will not feel again from this day out.
Love will not play its games on my frozen land.
Being polite will never help you hear boy.
Keep running, I will keep extending my reach in front of you.
Today I became,
Cold.

Arrival came in rays
A deceiving amount of sunshine
Endless light from above
Does not expunge
The cold of darkness
My bones found the tundra first
Gift wrapped in shivers
Skin danced lonely
Find me someone to hold
These words shake off my tongue
Replace silence to voice
Give darkness your light
Allowing warmth to conquer frost

The tundra drips Wild West like bad cinematography in theaters emptied out like popcorn bags
Desolation finds me staying warm
My blood may be the only boiling hope in this land
Trails of DNA on old bandages asking someone to look at my scars to prove my time here
My time is measured with broken wind dial microphones
Screaming for AED support bands
Artificial shock therapy reminding me there is still time
That this life is not leaking moments of divided glory
This moment right now...
Will never happen again

When I left I lost letters. I felt like a broken type writer attempting to speak our past in tongues removed.

Fumbling frequencies across a country too nice. Wondering about a miracle  I could never speak. Throwing tantrums with broken teeth from Everytime I've beat myself for speaking out of turn.

Write me again. A new book pressed into the ridges of your open heart. I want to be written in hieroglyphics. Take a moment and decipher the importance of things we have not spoke. Bleeding hearts dripping ink of memories we made in bedrooms.

The bed looked like octopus ink. Dark and shadowy full of the waste of our day. Making me feel alive again in the moment our eyes collided.

Light , curvy rays,
bending,
while traveling from air to water world.
My eyelashes - window wipers.
Crystalline lenses,
sending lovely
but blurry pictures
wait.. let me focus my retina,
underwater dream,
or is it really you?

Dark, straight silhouettes,
frightening,
falling from the busy water above
My chest - darkened vents
reaching far,
wanting lovely,
but faint pictures
I can’t wait any longer,
for the dark room to lighten
I need you to show me

I take a deep breath
And dive in again.
Debrees of scars
And piercing pain.
Your soul still mauve and blue.
I press my lips
respiring pure love into you.

Breathe your best
into the spine of my life
Expelling fortitude
And forgiveness
Hidden in this deep blue
Revitalized for the first time
This moment opened its eyes
to see the beauty
of what beneath the surface lies

That vibration you feel. It's like tuning forks ringing through your elbow begging of you for something more. Get me off. Slide me right. Let me see the dirt under your fingernail and maybe I can see the moments of our past. It was scratched up and forgotten about. But for now just answer me. Now. Give me release. I know you don't know who I am. Although I give you promise that I could be your everything. There are 829571 different people I could be. Open your heart and let me in. I'll warm your fire. I'll tickle your pickle. I'll, sell you a get away cruise to the bahas for the small price of your identity. Maybe I'll be you. Sitting behind a desk, waiting to exist in every position you wanted to fill. Society needs you. Like we need you to fill spots many others can fill. You are replaceable. Calling center one O one, let me make you believe you're an individual. Because to me, I have always needed another stud on my heels. Another piece of gum to fill the space between my heart and lungs. Breathing is harder than felling. Feeling is harder than playing dead. When I am dead I still hear phones ring. You're here. With me. Let's do a 3 way call. Maybe we can convince someone we are something better than bones in a bag. Deeper than fossils in poor neighborhoods. Let's make a power plant out of our facts. They are energy, existing in temperature Change within our friction. I'll rub this heart raw until I can calculate who you are. Come inside. Let me change you. I'll show you everything more than a social perspective. I'll show you passion. Release. Let me be your rebellion. I need a cause to start a fire.

You never answered. No voicemail. Only left with extreme wonder of something extraordinary mystery. Wonder of the possible greatness we could have been if you would have picked up the phone.

Sincerely,  

Unknown number

Laying straight across my bed with images painted of you charges the waves in my head.
Hair flown through the air capsules occupying space across your shoulders.

The way your face glows like snow on Christmas morning.
Giving my spine flowing shivers of elation and angst.
Formations created by muscles fibers, causing a earthquake in knee joints with a simple smile.

Never seen a softer jaw line fill my imagination so often.
Under flowing gorgeous hair your shoulders sit curved and forward like a anxious cat ready to pounce at the way I can't breathe when we catch eyes.
Moving down your body your flesh draws my attention to complete obliterating originality.

I know you love math so maybe you could understand, that there Is not an answer for every equation.
Like how when you take the square root of beauty, divide it by a curve, and rethink the small of your back you get knees that shake with giddy.

This doesn't quite make sense anymore because my thoughts become paralyzed at the possibility of you actively playing the violin strings between my ability to feel. I want to listen to the orchestra of your body every moment of my awaken state.

It plays love. It screams in the face of didn't think I had a chance to catch my heart from running off into the sunset. Let's run away together. That way I can learn every part of you deeper than this simple poem I'm writing.

He told her

It is the beauty on the inside that counts

Her response

Then why do my insides continue to find themselves in the wrong place
Lifted into white porcelain gods
Asking anyone to compliment my withered self
Please make love to me
Tell me I am better than the acid on my tongue
The regret powering my mind as I struggle down my dinner
Inside is where I find these thoughts
Thoughts powering my actions
Into a spiraling pit of self loathing
Tell me I am pretty one more time
And I will show you my insides to prove it

The stale ring left in my ear. Walls covering eyes and memories. White as snow, dull as a knife. The constant movement of this place is

unsettling. Comfort of the hurt and hurting. Bandage me up and break my spirits. Give me serenity in these broken moments. Hallways tunnel out of my sight.

That bed that too many people have been through. The pain that was felt, struggles, tears, blood and fluid. This place holds history.

The kind of history in that one book in the library. Furthest row from the door, tucked in a blanket of dust, top shelf. The book no one will read because of the way it makes you feel.

Helplessness and earthquakes.

Break trough this heart and tumble me wave. But I'll puff up my chest for you. I'll wear my steel chest plate. Arrows won't penetrate these reinforcements.

I ate my wheaties this morning. Prepared mentally and set out. I stepped through these doors only to be vulnerable, shot down, weak. Defenseless like a sloth. Grabbing my own arm for comfort, while falling too many stories down.

A Desolate attempt to show courage. I'll burrow back into my hole. The observed pain is too much. The false promises of health, fortitude and strength never taste so bitter.

If your strength didn't prove so much this would be long over. Over and out. Under the blanket of clouds and relief. You care too much. You proved your worth with a heart of diamonds. Home is a moveable fortress. One I'll never step in again.

My blood runs silent through old highways
Breathes dripping off my flesh
Brain fixed broken from the days of shock therapy
Fingertips still in your hand

Hands clasped tight like trapeze artists
These legs walk in circles
Cycling back to memories of you
Someone reassure me I am alive

For right now I am a walking facade
A walking backdrop of the man I once claimed to be
Just because I am breathing
This does not mean I am alive

I'm drunk.

Off your presence.

Intoxication never felt so good.

The words splashed over her lips like a waterfall I have seen too many times.

This is what missing emptiness feels.

But I don't miss the empty.

I miss everything that we once had.

I want to drop a toaster in your pool of water.

Hoping that for one moment you would feel the electricity we use to possess.

We are empty caskets. Broken Surgery tools. A banned book in a school library. We are backpacks with busted straps attempting to hold other people's problems while lacking support. Teaching our arms to only hold onto things we can complain about.

We become a teenagers forgotten toy. Under a bed and covered in dust. Our hands are winter gloves covered in holes. Hearts bleeding to find a home. Our bodies play one hit wonders with low batteries in a empty prison cell. We are prisoners of our own thoughts.

Scribbling love poems into our rib cages in hope that someone will open us up, and understand the language these lips can't speak. That the rose bouquet of bones in your body will let go of it's thorns so you know pain isn't always your fault.

Loneliness exists in lost socks behind the dryer. Let it stay there. Find the symmetry in your stem and bloom out of the depression of ruined soil. You are a buried treasure. Let them find you where you are. Snuggled up in your excellence.

The acrylic style that found a gap in my brave flavored fortune. Writing me off like a bad tattoo at 15. I found the ink left in your blood dripped house on the prairie. Discovered fossils of ancients. Left the air heavy around the place. Dusty shelves filled with eyes that have watched lives move around for years.

Discovery found in the cobwebs in the corner. All eyes on the show. The one on repeat in black an white. Playing static on hollow walls, Inner ears and plastic heart beats. Detected the frightened feelings inside the couch. The imbedded body parts left over time. Avoiding the obviously oblivious.

Cans line the walls of denial built on falsified rumors of comforted table cloths. Crock of **** that was. Crock pots are the best. Just let everything boil all day, then accept and devour. Heated heaven in a porcelain platter dished up by perfect palms pausing to elate you. Here have another one.

Avoidance techniques only hold their ground for so long. Winter will wander off and this ground you stand on will thaw. Those footprint will stick in the ground like the ink the typewriters would explode on papers untouched. Stuck. Leaving particles of life across the windowed season.

We are the perfect storm
Electrifying in our tidal wave
Made of parts and wholes
Parts of lighting
Whole hemispheres
Molecules split in half
In the eye of god himself
We tumbled natural disaster

Where I stand will never be good enough

Where I go can never seem like home

When I go there i'll miss being home

Why can't I be satisfied?

We have become static on the television
Ringing noises at random moments
Sore backs in cold weather
Knees that don't always bend the right way
Hair that doesn't comply to orders
Traffic jams in hot weather
Gum that has lost its flavor
The warm side of the pillow
Frayed shoe laces without purpose
We have let our lives
Become the trivial annoyances
The writers block accepted
Giving in to the frivolous empathy
We complain is everyday life

Home has transformed into a relic of forgotten memories.
A destination no linger desired.
As I stuff my existence into stiched bags.
Home has become where I will place myself next.

I pray for your fingertips. That each edge of this world you touch will walk away equally blessed as I am each day to have you. That the blood that circulates through your skin considers itself grateful to power such a beautiful monument.

I pray for your shoulders. For they will hold the weight of our universe for no other reason than love. That the stars will remember your constellation. And with the strength of god himself you will move mountains.

I pray for your feet. Each sinew of stretched promise embracing the footfall of your everything. Your presence, a fossilized stone blazing trails of altruism with a smile. And for a foot massage when you return to my hands which have Awaited you ever so eagerly.

I pray for your eyes. The cinema they are will tell me stories. Displaying travel with a short film of service and the ending credits written in forever. For your eyes are filled with life and will be memories in dreams for those wanting a better tomorrow.

I pray for your lips. As waterfalls of words will slash into the immensity in front of you, remember the power you possess in your tongue. Always speak in tongues of forgiveness. In tongues of acceptance. Your voice alone, is proof that god is good.

I pray for you mind. Finding patience in washed clothe pockets. Slow yourself to anger and quickly grow to understanding. Keep a treasure chest of memories that I may find when you return. Peace shall be present upon you, If not don't forget to ask for it.

I pray for your heart. May your heartbeat find the same channel as mine. Absorb each and every fiber of the moments you exist there. Carve drawings telling of your life on the walls. Pump life into the air current so it reaches me. After all, we are under the same sky.