exposed and melodic
what comes from half smiles

polite wishing

you're on your way and
I'm getting to mine

I don't know what day it is
where a mind finds these
long numb torrents

you can hold my heart and feel its rain

In this space
Resides Fortune
Jealousy and Fear
In the corners
Glowering miserably
Sadness stretched out
On the couch
Head inseparable from hands
Joy is tied to a post
A humiliating position
Fingers brought together with
Barbed Wire
Casting out a smile
As Anger sharpens his ax

I want to throw a bomb
Amidst it all
To end this
But decide to
Watch how the scene
Plays out

I've resolved to follow my dreams,
       quite literally

For instance, I had a dream the other day that
  (I cut all of my hair off and)
the following day
                 I did

Now I'm just waiting for the day I awaken from a
  dream in which I laughed with you forever;
           is that strange?

Because I know that day,
     and it's the one I've
   been waiting for
              (for the longest time)

Harsh wind come
chill my bones and
lead me to birth
my own fire

eleven eleven perpetually
they should dub this
our well

                                                            four holds in the
                                                            holster for this happi-
                                                            ness

"break glass in
emergency"

                            but no matter how
                            vigorously I break the
                            water's skin, it laughs
                            and sends me home

no jaywalkers here
                                on the edge
                      of the sky

just air
      and

              space

and
     new atmosphere

                               jump to the
                    beat beat beat of their
pounding fists,
                   shadow cry,
                                    wings
                      ­    falling apart and flailing

           pour me another shot of
           kerosene and gasoline, I'm
           feeling mean and all I've seen
           is a world without a care

I ask for too much help
Not help in the traditional sense
As in
I don't have a knack for falling down wells
Or impaling my hand on a fork

But I do tend to impose on people
And then they shy away

I am the man who lies through his teeth.

So I saw this ******* the side of the road today
And she looked at me and asked if I could fix her car (life)
And I said I can't (I can) but I don't want to.

I am the man who doesn't care.

And in the distance the smoke rose from all these fires
That sprung up from our embers
Our wishes

I am the man who doesn't make sense.

I am the man who is opaque.

I am the man who is gone.

"Maybe not tomorrow
but someday"
She tells me
"the flowers will wilt
the light will dim
the roads will diverge"

And I wonder
How will it be
When I no longer recognize you
And you no longer see me
Will I feel the knife
Slowly as it inches into my heart
Or feign indifference and burn all traces
Of you

A valuable question, certainly
And one to consider
But no answers come to mind
At least none I can bring myself to
Singe this page with

All these letters I've held on to
To spite me in my current condition
Hurl
          word after
                     word after
                                word
    (afterwards, hardly any heart to think)

tempt my flame and lose the privilege of
    their homes in my memory

In disguise when
                  surrounding people boast inflated
   concepts of importance
        
          If they cannot recognize me
                      when I change, how
             will they recognize my ideas after
       I am gone?

L

You might think you will always know what's the right thing to do, the right thing to say, but ninety-nine percent of the time, you will be wrong.

O

The wrong words will come out, the wrong reasoning, the wrong separation, the wrong wasted years of experimentation. You both will suffer.

V

Somehow, one of you finds a way to bridge the minute crack between your hearts and takes the initiative to do so. You begin to recognize how much each of you truly care for the other.

E**

And then somewhere along the line wires are crossed and out pops a spark.

     And it is this spark that births a brilliant new fire, with flecks of the old.

Hello.

Picture yourself in twenty years
no
I can't either. But
we'll both get there, I'm
certain of the fact

and I'll be kinder and you'll be
wiser and I just
hope I still know
you then

Safety in lowered
    lashes, (elephant)
gaze
              across first fields, perked
                                           senses
      on their feet perched

perfectly             water
                under             an infusion

     of color woven with a hint of
                      nostalgia

White ribbons on
     black dresses

Luminescent roads against a
   night sky

A wonderful clash
A welcome crash

Of thunder's warning
Of lightning's fire

Is there anything
                           after
the fire simmers down, bed of red
      coals on the cold
                 dark ground all
              around when there's
        no sound and no space and
            no crystal tinkling laughter
   to climb your spine

                 or walk along a river spread
            beside a tired and tortured head
                        is there anything
                                             after?

Monetary wealth makes no difference
In the end
It all comes down to how you have
Gone about expressing yourself

Who has listened
Who has taken the initiative
And such

So scrap your hammered ideals
And join me.

As it so happens
              (you never would have expected)
    that dastardly ghost to show her face
  but face you they did and              
                      for reasons you'll never understand
              yet the dog and the girl watched
                               silent as the moon
                       pulling at its strings
                            and letting the tides dance

Letters in the mail
pieces of me freed by words
keep them with your heart

nights like this are
born for dancing to senti-
mental music

won't you join me?

tapping out a
beat

is there a light to
curl my fingers
                    around
and pretend the red glow
betrays their fire?

you mean to stay?
incapable of letting out, midnight
walks and warmed benches, windows
whispering open at the touch of a lip

early openings in an otherwise beautiful
block of noise
                     I was so sure so sure can we hear more than
                     the others?

or else that thumping is my own
heart sending a message in spurts and
suction, congealed promises from my understandings
to yours

I'm losing my mind
And there is nothing else to say

Hello night I've come to know
Through darkness silent river flow
And lay me down to rest for good
In time I will go when I should

We have all lost so much
Our precious homes, your precious touch
And it may seem like such a shame to never see the sun
Trapped here by earthen walls while
Mighty towers crumble, fall
But a small hope is all, illuminating ravaged minds

Cry out for reason
Why would this hell happen here? I
Can't shake this feeling
Caused by an onslaught of fear, and
As my memories fall to the ground
I wonder how

Looking back on the past
Beautiful things never last
We delude ourselves in believing this cannot be true
Concrete turned to rising dust by
Broken minds and broken trust
Billowing in dark destructive clouds
It eats away at you

Cry out for reason
Why would this hell happen here? I
Can't shake this feeling
Caused by an onslaught of fear, and
As my memories fall to the ground
I wonder how

To pray with earthen lips
Bow with wooden knees
Speak with singed tongues
                           Strength is the image
                           Strength is the intent
                           Strength
                                          was the lie
but no longer

Today is a new beginning with
Which steel will begins to fill in the
Air behind the painted walls

And genuine laughter rings in the aftermath of
A world gone so wrong it turns right

Laughter is the
light that draws
all these mindless
moths and

this fog makes
artificial lights
artificially much more
beautiful than they deserve
to be

Ten years from now we will have since decided what we would like to devote our time to
Likely with plans of families and children, of the stability and serenity that comes with love
What will our memories of this time remain as? Will each moment be as vibrant?
Will we remember each other as we see ourselves now?

Time changes everything.
But perhaps we can change time.

Our system
        designed to hold open
                                                                                       any door
for 3.6 seconds before
    
   s
    w          ng
       i        i              shut with
         ng                                a resounding

               whisper

alone
is impossible
but I don't want
to be in your world

caught in-between the old
and the budding like a fish flapping
its last few breaths in a dwindling puddle

dwell on the eclectic, as I do but not to this
extent, see more experience has come my way
and the world through my eyes is
hazy but at least I can see now

never told you what happened before
never going to, never told me anything
never never

keep my ties to all avenues but
pave my own road with morals I've
build from sorrow, love, and broken

in retrospect, I'm
an acquired taste

So blind we cannot touch

Save the date just
for breathing

no walls, both
open

told me there was a rainbow
never believed it for a second
until I broke away from action
and made a space for love

[Return to forgotten ideals
      Keep writing for as long as
                                                  it takes
                      to fuel the fire
                                    build the walls
              I'm beginning to doubt this act
                  accomplishes anything but
       It makes me feel better, it
                  makes me feel, it
                        makes me
           continue my nonsense like
                      so many of you
    explanations, accusations built
                        from the same blocks
                              such variety within
                                                    rigid boundaries]

Real virtue is not found
    in our unfortunate town

        Leave me be if you cannot bring
        yourself to leave intact your moral obelisk

                                                            You are sheltered

        And I will protect my own as
        the only thing worth saving

                                                 I will shelter you

Real virtue is not found
    in our unfortunate town

I almost forgot
after the storm, chasing
rainbows in the sky

and shown a double by
my very own prism

I have reduced my life
to voices and pictures

hard to see what
comes next

Early mornings
          with broken suns
   sloshing about in the sky

                  a good start.

Perhaps my thoughts took an ill form
When they climbed from my throat
But they should be forgiven
It was an arduous journey

As a matter of fact, there is one
Who can't wait to meet you
He wants to be yours
But he finds himself stuck
Beneath hordes of others

His name is Love, and
I'm sure you'll like him
When he can dig himself
Out.

I'll trade my heart
for your heart

I'm beginning to get shabby,
       delving into so many disciplines
  
    unkempt, really
              but composure is  
         unnecessary at best when
       you're like I am and know
    why you get up each morning

There is time enough for everything
But we should not passively stand by and
Let time own us

Swirls of color in the rain
Proclaim our thoughts
Swirls of color in the rain
Exist only before our eyes
Remain there forever
As wisps of beauty

I notice these often
They like to leave before I can
Get a feel for them, sadly
But there is time enough for everything
And shed the societal norms

And don't be afraid to dive into something wonderfully new
The swirls of color in the rain
Belong to the two
Of us, and we belong here
Complete and joyous
Free at last
Clean beneath the water

In between
                                                   What we know and

not the best place
     for us or
                 anyone, really
to be

                                                   The opportunities just outside windows

Your path is of your choosing
   and what happens next is up to us.

When was there ever something to talk about?
                          I cannot recall an instance
        in which I, you, we voluntarily
                                     downed a conversation
                 without any gagging after the fact.

Shh.
Don't tell.

If you really wanted to
    
   grab
                   my attention, you
would have tried something a bit more

            sophisticated
                                     and it
might have worked, if
                                                  not for the fact that
                       I want nothing to do with you

If you want to know
   what I think we
                should do
    just pack it up and
hit the road right
                now
It's easy to see what this
              world is coming to
just pack it
        up and hit the road right
                           now
           I want to know what
                  you are           too
                              feeling
    so let’s pack it up
                and hit the road right now
       I’m guessing but I’d
   rather
            know the truth
                       oh let’s pack it up and
                                   hit the road right
                                          now
               (there’s no need
  to find the way back
                  nothing left to tie us
  here all I know is
                         I’ve got hope and
          I’ve got windows to my fear
               oh my dear)
                                         just pack it up and
                                       hit the road right
                                               now

Good morning
splashing a sunrise across my
pillow to remember only
fifteen days before the
sky dreams of dirt, rich
ripe and golden

all the clouds can do
is watch