n0r Nov 2018
Slipping into respite
Beneath the noon’s lights

Knowing tomorrow holds another dragging,
Cigarettes between lips, ignite
The tick tock’s sagging, bliss
Missed in tearful reminiscence.
Sip the sweet wine
And add a stain, a scraping
Away of the cerebellum’s folds
Every evening after waking
Drag this frame across
A few sharp blocks
To get a fix

That will **** the chattering
Forever, Someday.
n0r Sep 2018
I rested on him,
And breathed in his,
A strong scent of musk
*** and hummus
Mixing with our intermingling

Pouring out was this,
His and mine,
When those freckled knuckles
Slid through
The veneer between us
And into clarity; I gasped

And held on,
We would end
As all things do,
In a tiny death
Between us.
n0r Sep 2018
Today I drew a tree.
It was a metaphor, really.
Written within soil were my aspirations,
Dedications I hoped to grow.

I came back to it this evening,
And saw the gaps within the bark.
Grabbing some tools I pressed my
Self on spaces asking to be filled.

The emptiness marked was darker,
Fresher from the pen.
Adding texture to this child’s art,
I smiled and drew again.
n0r Aug 2018
I’m lonely
Of an empty future
Where every day slides by
Me, an existential malaise growing
Bigger by the hour, swallowing down sadness
With a new, shiny app and the latest distraction;
Calling my self an artist
And a lover
And a friend
Without ever feeling art
Or love
Or friendship.
Just this;

The fading of my eyes’ light
A whispering into my ears
“This is justice
For what you’ve become.”
  Aug 2018 n0r
Tell me all the mountain peaks
you've climbed up...
The taste of being in complete
unison between sky and land.

Tell me what has un-tethered you
from your trafficked mind
to the true self, instinctual
and intuitive, full of light and heat

Tell me what has sharpened each
and every one of your senses
into the undeniable acuity -
a rock steady solitary march

from the cold bumper to bumper city
to the rest of the vibrant world
many of us carry through without
noticing - Tell me who you are today

and I will sit and watch you bloom
in silence and awe.
August. The sun has risen yet the Oregon Summer is fleeting. Tomorrow it rains, today it is windy. Yesterday it was blazing. I find myself tripping back into regularity, ceasing to challenge myself in pursuit of worldly and basic schedules. A small voice in the background keeps whispering, "Is this what I truly am?" Am I just a body of sexuality, of routine and shallow thoughts? Yesterday, I was. Today, I am reaching to the sky yet again. Tomorrow will come and I would love to share my story with it.
n0r Aug 2018
You can write a poem
In a thousand different ways.

Here, I laid the words out
In prose, like one long rope

Unknotted, with the knowledge
That I will look back

And cut the cords
According to how

I wish to sing.
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