We start from nothing
And spring from dreams
Reaching through dimensions
And time.
I stand like a rock
Rooted to the earth beneath my feet
Know this place
Own this space
Whilst possessing nothing at all
Still I fly
Pondering reality
Dreaming with clarity
Knowing only
Love survives all.

an ode to what I am not
convenient
or skinny
organized
or welcoming
an ode to what you beg of me
all of these things I cannot be,
I will not be not ever
forever is a long time
to spend bending
your image of me
into something
that fits in your wallet
an ode to what I am not
gentle, rose colored china
sunday mornings with herbal tea
your hope or step in your 12 to get up
a beam of light at the edge of blackness
an ode to what I do not possess
healing powers like some 2,000 year old man
you pray to every day and beg I do the same
patience for another human who whats to change
who and what I am not
so I can play the part
I did not even audition for
an ode to what I am taking
back, my life
all of me, front and center
of the floor

The floor never sleeps,
to many motions keeping
upon its matter.

Even though parts never clung
to by anything, vibrations from a
pin dropping reverberate and
a wave splashes on a floor just
an insomnia of existence...

*"The floor never sleeps, to much is moving on.

depleted
of energy,
a weight of gold
upon my heart,
its heavy dull luster
pushes down hard
squeezing out
        the light
suffocating
    my staccato
of breath
     I crouch        
quietly
in the brush,
the next step in
my process
                 pending
a dense rock
of pendulum
swaying time
  tick ticking
in my blood
cells reaching
the boiling point
just shy
of spilling over
into froth
waiting for
this conundrum
        to unravel,
my inner tigress
about to unfurl
             her heart
    to leap
and pounce
from
   within
into the
  tight
white
          of blinding
snow, the silent
storm of  
      the unknown
forever

We are dead of being
if we do not experience
                                          life.

Solitude is a coffin
                  of waking nothingness.

Utilize your talent
You have the skill
Keep on with your progress
As you climb that hill
It is within you
You can do it
Just push yourself to the max
Do not ever quit

The wind whispers
                              in untold words ―

borne deeply within
                              the heart of the sky

and, like a kite broke free
                              of tethered strands,

"I may as well try
                              and catch the wind" ―