I create for the joy of creating
To journey through it,
The end, is again, the beginning

The result,
with persistence,
patience
and determination
Is magic

Long drives with you:

Getting to know ourselves better.
   Getting to know each other better.
Going and Growing together.
   Being and Becoming together.
Thinking each others thoughts.
   Whispering each others name.
Breathing each others breath
   with a passionate, persuasive, persistence.

Our hearts beat, beat, beating
   to the music on the radio,
As we sing each other's favorite songs...

I was at the post office the other day,
mailing off some letters,
waiting in line (patiently waiting),
when I see an elderly woman walk in.

Grey haired, wrinkled skin, hunched over, cane in hand,
walking, walking slowly, the world, run, run, running around her
at what must have seemed like to her, 1000 miles per hour.

She was having an some kind of issue with her post office box key,
i overheard, it wouldn't fit in her post office box,
and she wanted the postal worker to help her

They kind of shrugged her off like she was a senile old kook, snickering behind her back.

I finally got thru the line, and met the woman in the lobby by the post office boxes.

    "Ma'am, do you need help with your mailbox?" I asked, concerned.
    
    "They told me it should work now. They said there was mail blocking it."
    
    "Which one is it? Let's see if we can get it to open" I said,
taking the key, I inserted it, but it wouldn't work.
    
    "Are you sure this is the right box?
    
    "Yes", she said, "they said there was mail blocking it."

    "Then are you sure this is the right key? Look, i can insert it into any of these other boxes,
and it still won't turn. So its either the wrong box, or the wrong key."

I felt sorry for the woman.
I wondered if she understood.
She seemed disoriented, confused.

She took the key,
and brought it closer to her eyes,
examining it,
studying it,
realizing

    "I must have brought my husbands key by mistake. He's passed away..."

I didn't know what to say, I felt so bad for her.

    "I miss him so much..." she said, key in hand, rubbing it between her thumb and index finger.
    
    "I'm sorry." What was i supposed to say at that point?
    
    "Oh well," she said, "one day chicken, next day feathers. God bless you for trying to help me."

it started out as innocent,
but turned into something
completely different

suddenly, he was staring
into the eyes of love

which was strange
to him, for him

because he had never even
kissed her lips...

i feel you, i do,
from the inside out, deeply,
     with rhythm in every thought,
     patience in every breath,
     wisdom in every word,

and for a little while,
i imagine our hearts,
     though distant,
     beating together, closely
     like a clock (tick tock)

all
i
have
to
do
is
find
out
who
you
are
would
you
take
some
time­
and
reveal
yourself
to
me
i
would
like
to
get
to
know
you
a
litt­le
bit
better
i've
been
looking
for
the
right
op
por
tun
ity.

Taking long walks
I wander,
in wonder

In cities dense,
Over sparse
countrysides

Forging new paths,
Stopping often
To observe, reflect

And I think of you, my friend...


MichaelShaddox.com
Lose Yourself. Find Yourself. Be Yourself.

Inconspicuous day

We gather in greatness (a meeting of many)

I sit with
Poets and painters and prophets alike

        casual and comfortable
                          surreal and social

We talk about
               methods and theories (fundamentals of frequencies)

And we talk about
               dreams and desires (delving in depth)

And we talk about
              the present and the future (conceptual credences)
                         And let us not forget the past...

We, the artists, united, bound together
                    By lucidity, like minds, creative
                                         I list, list, listen to voices

I hear conversations about
           life and living

I hear conversations about
           songs and singing

I hear conversations about
           painters painting

I hear conversations about
           love and loving

I form limericks in my mind, (mindless, whimsical)

And I am think, think, thinking

Thoughts and ideas gather and dissipate

I transliterate the ideas of others

I sense complexity thrilling, (thrilling complexities)

And then suddenly, its quiet...

It's a beautiful day.

If you can,
step outside,
close your eyes,
Take a moment.
Breathe.

Now,
With your eyes still closed,
Point your face to the Sun
And smile.

Take it in
Breathe again.
Do you feel something?
A tingling warmth?
Yes? Good.

That is what it feels like to really be alive.
And on this day
This moment
Was made just for you!

u texted.
u called.
sorry i haven't
called b(l)ack
or written b(l)ack.

truth is...
i've
f
a
l
l
e
n
into
a
deep
deep
deep
[••••••••••]
sleep
s­leep
sleep.

sometimes i feel like i could sleep forever.

i could tell you my dreams...
(but my dreams are my dreams.
(and i am the dreamer))

i could tell u my thoughts...
(but my thoughts are my thoughts.
(and no one's really interested))

sooooooooooo
what now you ask?
good question.
i was wondering
the
same
exact
thing.

the voice on the other end of the phone-
-her voice, **** and seductive, whispering, she said,

"come..
sleep with me...
lets fall asleep in each others arms,
and wake up in the morning
with the silliest grins on our faces
knowing, finally knowing,
what it feels like
to be crazy in love with each other..."

i remember the morning after
though its been quite awhile
and she was definitely right
she had the most beautiful smile
as did i...

i've been writing rather lengthy lately
bout love, life, and better days gone by

i reflect often
and remember fondly
the sweet scent of you
and tho i try not to, i do

even tho it being so,
so long ago, i do, ahhh,

and you, are long gone,
with someone else
somewhere else
doing something else,

you, living life anew,

who knew...
that i would be the one

thinking wishing hoping
thinking wishing hoping
thinking wishing hoping...

i've been writing rather lengthy lately
bout love, life, and better days gone by...

i had been waiting for her

forlorn and forsaken
and for so long

day after day
night after night

she used to say
that it was too late
        it had been too long
        it would be too hard
        and it would be wrong
        and that she had moved on...

one day, out of many,
(years had passed)
i wrote her
to let her know
         that i still love her
         that i still want her
         that i still need her

and we met
   (in the middle)
       of the night
           like we used to
got in my car
        drove to the bar
            shared a bottle of wine,
                 or two

and i smiled
and she laughed
we got close
like we used to

not thinking about this
not thinking about that
not thinking at that time
                  at that place
                  at that moment

we would kiss kiss kiss
(O, bliss! bliss! bliss!)

delicate and delightful
desirable and delicious

she whispered,
(i remember it as if it were yesterday)
        softly and sweetly
             "baby, i still love you"

she used to say
that it was too late
        it had been too long
        it would be too hard
        and it would be wrong
        and that she had moved on...


back to my place
hurrying to the bedroom- ***** it,
the living room will do

the fling fling flinging of clothes

thoughts racing, racing thoughts

the abandoning of
insecurities and imperfections

she,
braless and beautiful
******* full and breathless

beaming brilliant beautiful

together, we,
      in a familiar position again
      tempestuous, and together again

nothing between us
      but the moisture
      from our heated hearts
      forming and gathering
      gathering and forming
      as we moved in
             rhyming. rhythmic. rhapsody.
                    up (up) and down (down)
                    up (up) and down (down)


i had been waiting for her

forlorn and forsaken
and for so long

day after day
night after night

she used to say
that it was too late
        it had been too long
        it would be too hard
        and it would be wrong
        and that she had moved on
        so i moved on

though i didn't want to
i still loved her too

and that night,
nothing else mattered.

in the warm pleasure
of a pillowy plushness
as we settle in 4 bed

dozens of candles
dimly (dancing)
lighting the room

two silouettes
curvaceous, crazy
calling out names

frantic, feverish
moving melodic
rhythmic, rhapsodic

mmmnnn...
(it's getting warm in here)

rapidly warming
degrees of desire
sweating, squirming
melting into u...

what a beautiful
waste of time
she was

she was
my weakness
(i've had a few)

desirable and delightful
my willingness to concede
to reason
to rationality

for a chance
to dance
for a little while
in the dark

and for a little while
i lost myself

morning
dawn
early still...

the sun rises
the earth, born again

a dewy mist
covers the ground
cool, but not cold
comfortable i guess you could say

butterflies beckoning
birds chirping
squirrels playful, playing

trees, leaves,
branches long and strong

grass green
and brown
and green
and brown
and green
and brown

a world anew
its air fresh
its breath, breathing

i too, am breathing

i rejoice
i am awake
i am greatful
i am alive...

whenever there's a chance to kiss
(come close)
let's exchange
our most intimate
of tongues

chest against breast
tightly pressed

as lovers would do

in the secrecy of darkness
and witnessed too, by light
as we embrace each other

as though
it were the first time
or possibly the last time
until the next time
we should meet again

whenever there's a chance to embrace
(come close)
let's exchange
our most intimate
of secrets

chest against breast
tightly pressed

(let me whisper
in your ear)

as lovers would do

in the secrecy of darkness
and witnessed too by light
as we embrace each other

as if
it were the very first time
or possibly the last time
until the next time
we should meet again

water flowing
freely going, fabulously
running forth
while fish are solemn, still

i bathe my hand
i beckon them
they hear me, clearly
and come forth

stopping short,
they pause, curious
waiting for instruction

my wiggling wet fingers
calling out to them
i introduce myself
i tell them, confident, fear me not

and they acknowledge
by touching
the tips
of my fingers
with their lips
and wagging their tail fins with approval.

it wasn't
so much
the way
she looked

but rather,
in the way
she looked
at me...

(beautiful, as always)

clutching blanket
blanket clutching

wrapped up
warm and comfortable

sitting silent
on the sofa

watching tv, nothings on...

he was
wrapped up, enraptured
caught up and captured
by a delicate and delightful
brazenly beautiful
perfectly perfect
girl.

that he was...
that he was...

as i am

too tired to eat
too tired to drink
too tired to do anything

except lay here
and watch you
sleeping comfortably
next to me

and you are
oblivious
to everything
about me

and you are
dreaming about
who knows what
(but enjoying it)

as i am

too tired to speak
too tired to think

and i am
amazed
and enraptured
by you

this beautiful you
that lay here beside me

looking so fragile
looking so delicate
looking so peaceful

and i am

too tired to dream
(but i could imagine)
spending many more nights
in bed with you
occasionally sleeping
(hopefully sleeping)

through night
after night
after night
after night

and as night
comes to a close
and morning
comes closer

we wake
(but not too early)
and we're both smiling silly
and we're both laughing loudly
and we're both hysterically happy

as you know
you mean the world to me...

hello there
its been a while
haven't seen much of you lately

and i...
i was just thinking...

i was just thinking...

hello there
its me - again
remember how we used to - well,

remember how we used to be

so easily pleased
so into each other
so caught up
and wrapped up
so into each other

how fondly i recall
how deeply imbedded
how crazy
and carefree
so into each other

hello there
its been awhile
haven't seen much of you lately

and i...
i was just wondering...

i was just wondering...

Feeling down
Looking up
A man cries "What's left?!"
Hears a voice
In the air
Ghostly
Saying Softly, Solely: "Right..."
The man turns
Hopeful
Journeys toward the light
Busted bones
Says a prayer
And dies later
In the night...

There's something to be said
about climbing a mountain-
the calmness,
one-ness (if that's a word)
the mindful majestic solitary sensation,
meditating at the top,
(for however long it takes)
climbing down calm,
knowing yourself better
than you ever did before,
content, confident,
and ready to face the world...

u,

do u think i can see u
a little more often,

rather than just
every once in a while,

if not
i understand
i guess u're busy

i'll just try
to get over
ur beautiful
smile...

conversation flowing
freely going

all the while
impressions growing

getting familiar with each other
and yet not knowing

exactly where
we might be headed

a little bit nervous
and a little excited too

the feeling is right
and i really like being with you

every day,
that first waking breath...
To Breathe, We Are,
the sum of all our own prayers,
answered.

We are a collection of beings that can benefit from periods of solitude.
When we can block out all the distractions, deliberate interruptions and noises,
We are able to answer the questions that we have been asking ourselves for a long, long time.

For each of us, the question is different.
My question presented itself one night,
A few years back, as I was lying in bed,

                                                              "Which way do I go?"