As it is brought towards completion
the boat, through my interaction
with it,  out on the lake
will then make possible  the access
to fish that I,  up till now
have only dreamt of

The fish  are the fire..   descended
down  from the heavenlies--
made available  solely
through the fineries..   restored
back in to  wholeness  in part
through the value I first saw in it
when in its primitive, used and
unfairly treated and uncared for, form..

But it was the deep love for that form
that helped give the vessel its access
back into the restoration  of its
own,  true glory..

And now,  all alone--  
out on the lake with it
it brings me access  in to
places and magical depths  until now
only thought of  and dreamt about
as that which exists  only, in heaven..

It is the vessel's motor,  now fully restored
that brings the boat and I  together
out on to the lake
but it is the boat's very  uniqueness
within it's own  natural state of beauty
that helps to give me access  into the magic
that lay currently undisturbed
deep in that glorious lake's depths

The boat has always carried within it
the rarest of gifts
and somewhere buried in my   deep
love for it..  those gifts, while out on
the lake  with it, will make themselves  known
to me  as we together find those fish
that so beautifully represent,  this..

the Holiest of all fires.

Those trophy fish are the magical moments
that up until now, lay dormant,
swimming far away from current distractions  
of the every day, mundane
accessible only  through the restorative process
and one's love of it's rare and magical beauty

It sometimes feels as if all of heaven is
waiting. (I know I am insane to talk this way..)

I truly do love that boat.

When I am out on the lake with it,
every difficult moment will be so very
worth it all to me. That is the joy I get
from the giving of myself into it's
much needed and fully deserved, restoration.

.  .  .  .

You will not sit out there,
  so all alone--
weathering, out there  somewhere
in the corner of the shipyard.  If that is
the case, and that is your current fear..
I know that you will find a way to
make yourself find-able by me. The
greatest tragedy of all would be for a
vessel of your unique and rare beauty,
to die off   all alone--

unloved..
scuttled, by the wind.


The energy that was meant for you  is
now,  going into the boat.
  
    --tho I can certainly do both.

Throughout the years,
you have made pictures of yourself
available for us to see

and through a number of them--
have shown unedited,  a clear and
horrendously honest view,  directly
into your deeply-struggling soul--  

and even if you may had just days  
or hours,  previously
conveyed a look of almost carefree
   happiness and beauty..  

Those chosen few  that
graciously gave the glimpse  of how
bad it can so often be for you,  
also.. unbeknownst to you,  

   gave light
of how tremendously valuable
and rare you really are.

And like a dyed-in-the-wool stalker,  
I saved screenshots of the ones  that
moved me to tears

years later..
and they still affect me that way

and in fairness, some the ones  also
to where you were truly glowing  
in all  of your natural beauty..

  on the ying' side
  of the bipolar swing.

You are rare and unique..
so very very one of a kind,
(and I have every right throughout the
years to say that to you here and now)

--that there is a  worth  within every single
part of it all that is wholly beyond measure--
you can feel it sometimes, little beauty
I know there is no way that you cannot.

One day  the ravens will no longer be
able to steal that wholly accurate,
beautiful self-view so easily from you,

..and you will be able to live that
wonderfully-accurate view out,  daily--
having now found it's way down in to
your very, central core..

.  .  .  

Sorry, young love.. I know how much  a
beautiful truth such as this, hurts.
You reveal so much of who you are
through the raw innerworkings  and
conveyances of your poetry and music.

You would not be that so very beautiful way,
if you did not believe that Love would
eventually find a way..

  yes, beauty..  even for you.

When Love's scalpel  comes
towards my beautiful Gloria--

  she leans in to it

What is it that makes  this one
  believe
at such a tremendous  cost
to to herself

and yet, so many others
turn and run..
turn and hide?

I was built-- from the ground,  up
to help  hold ones
such as yourself,  up

as the bright   healing light  
of loves ache

dismantles  the intricacies  of our
once-necessary, life-built  
war machines..

yes, my beauty--
down to the very  core

of  your  foundation,
where you can finally  
have the chance

     to become  rebuilt:

from the ground's  true bedrock,
up

There is a stream
  in our theme,
a  river that flows through us--
that stream is us.

In the stream, whose name is
"All it is that We Are",
there  is a continuity--  
a common ground  
in  everything that the
    stream contains;

    it is ours,
    our substance-- our essence.
    .   .

Place your hand
into your stream
and feel
    who it is that you are,
and know that as you do,
every part    of
what it is that  m o i s t e n s
your arm  

    is that which is of you..
        you are   t a n g i b le.

The stream is yours--
    who.  you.  are.  
ever-flowing, yet tangibly  felt
at any given time.

This stream, also aptly named
"Substance of Being"--    from
beginning to end  contains
    within it
    all of what it is that is yours--

      and yours alone.
      .   .   .    

Jump, beautiful one--
right smack dab  into
the middle of it, and
feel yourself  in its entirety--

        beginning to end,

    yet,
with no beginning that can be seen
and no end.. save the vast sea--  
the  beautiful final destination  
  of all streams.

    .   .   .   .  

  Feel yourself flow in it
  and know it is you--

  bank to bank;
    the stream is you.

paulSN

There was this one bench we
used to sit on with our legs
   dangling.
Do you remember that-- how
we used to look down at our feet
as we swung them
back and forth?

I did so well--
       until I would look up at those eyes.

You said that when two people
care about each other
their feet should swing in unison.
I was too embarrassed to tell you
the truth--

   that every time I looked in your eyes
   my legs would go numb.

I tried to tell you then that
nerds weren't supposed to look
the way that you do.

Even now I look at your picture
      you left with me--

           and my legs go numb all over again.

And one more time I try to forgive myself.


Nerds aren't supposed to look like that.
It says that--

         somewhere in the manual
      it does.

                               I think.

Dirt poor  and
down trodden,
he didnt ask for this
this life  among the fallen--

My fuckerface,  he paid his dues
among the homes of the forgotten

Scandinavian/Cherokee was his pa
(tho not for long)
Crow Creek Sioux and German,  his ma..

and all along the Rosebud rez
his half-breed skin,  rubbed raw.


Ah,  my beautiful  sweet fuckerface--
you are  the finest  blood-brother
of them all.

paulSN

Don't speak directly to her--
you will melt the skin  off
  her bone-frame

Instead, find the parallel-words--

ones that will float alongside her
as she walks, so as she is able-
she can pluck them--  like
wild roses along the highway

Sometimes, love takes a
   tremendous
amount of creativity--

the name of the game is
  its destination
not the control of its path