|the power of the w o r d and the (art)|



to really learn
     your brain has to f l e x
you must be open
  to new ideas
and challenge
the authority
the majority
the status quo
     because seeing pattern
is an art
  an art that can has power anywhere
even to see the future
based on the words
and images
of the
now.
sometimes
we can see the possible picture
the emerging image
   each subtly,
seemingly obscure
things come together
for us
and we can see
from much farther away
than you.

and in those moments that we can see,
you should l i s t e n
  to what we say
l i s t e n to what we sing
l i s t e n to what we play
l o o k at what we show you.
        and begin
    with
t  h e
q
u
e
s
t
i
o
n

there is a modest
one-story home
with white stucco walls
and a red tiled roof
waiting for me somewhere
near a floridian beach.

the yard is flat and dry.
some days, i’ll lie there
on top of a patterned quilt
in a two-piece
hand over brow
reading a thick memoir
on loan from the library
that sits on the other side
of the brush, beyond
the wooden fence.

winter will just be a memory.
every week, my toenails
will sink into the sand
wearing a different shade of pink.
i will not fold away
my sundresses and shove them
under the bed.
they will only leave
their wooden hangers
to be worn and washed.

time simply records the falling
and growing and falling of things.
one of these days,
i will be the budding lily
pushing up dirt
to greet the other side with
all of the beauty
i am ready to be.

i have fallen enough.

Again,
the sparkles made from crashed ocean enlighten me the beauty of you,
I’ll hold your mask and drown it in the sea,
Pearls of oxygen shine under the blue moon,
I wish to see the true self of you,
Despite we could be the same element,
Yet different particle, different chemical,
Envision you, obsession turns to contentment,
The serenity of my restless soul,
Silk howl of your alpha desire,
I am willing to fulfill everything,
As long you hold my hand
and never let it go.

Unconditioned to channeling the inner parody,

Actualizing the adaption of an animal apt for apathy, actively act in atrophy.

The vessel a fractured vapid faculty,

Of exactly the amount of human trapped in how not to be.

Lock and key, the property you deem your thoughts; a metropolis of atrocities.

Listen, don't listen, push and pull the pensive pistons,

Re-position, your decisions, until you got what you'd envisioned.

she sat there
with the disk whirring
in her laptop's DVD player.
the movie wouldn't play
because of some internal flaw
and she stared blankly
at the computer screen.
her bowl full
of potato salad
on the desk next to her frozen body.
her chest rising and falling
unsteadily
her eyes glassy
zoned out
to another place.

the pills she's supposed to take
to keep herself healthy
sit on the desk next to her bowl
of unfinished potato salad.