snow has the height of pigeons today
translucent joy trapped in its consistency
the whole world is moving I am standing still
to listen to the intensity of ice, to its labour
to hold the tension of true opposites
the perpetual dance of white turning into black
maybe the trees are hallucinating their dreams
the same way we do
sometimes I forget the lesson of winter
to find itself again it has no choice but to
become spring

With a voice that fails me
I aim at the lines between your hope and my despair
With a needle, in an effort to achieve precision
To stitch our thoughts together
They’re so similar, so different
You think of October as a warm home
And I see it as a cold houseguest
And we co-exist in this oblivion
This circle of this or that
I admire your willingness to fill spaces
And you question my fear of being heard
You relish in the colours of fall
And I dread the looming winter
How is it that we left September
Hand-in-hand, wishing for rain...

If I am left,
Then he is right.
If he is day,
Then I am night.
If he is right,
Then I am wrong.
If I am dusk,
He is dawn.
If I am here
Then he is there.
If he is grounded
Then I’m in the air.
If I am weak
Then he is strong.
And if things don’t change
Soon he’ll be gone

oil and water will always blame the other for being too extreme. there is a natural separation and naturally, a lot of blame.

how easy it is to feel self righteous in your rigidity, even in the presence of the one point in a glass where they meet. there, it is a softer rejection, a gossamer thin border, as if it resigns, “here, we exist as two separate we’s, stacked on top of one another, and that is as much as i will relent.”

what a shame it is to accept the shape of a container, but not the shape of one another. what a stab it is to my heart that you repel me, and i you, no matter how much i wish and struggle and vigorously shake us both hoping that this time, it will be different. what a pity it is that i’m me and you’re you and we’re not anyone else and it will remain unchanged, like you and i.

i could feel better if i knew you didn’t want it to be this way. that this life is just impossibly cruel and it’s nobody’s fault but the universe and the gods and whoever else made it my nature to resist you.

i plead silently for one more good stir, one more fair shot. it might work this time.

our shoulders brush slightly again. and i cry thinking that if you were to wipe my tears, they’d bead up and roll off of your hands.

Bright and curious, you approached my world
Dawned with death, but fortified by rebirth,
You encompassed duality
A grounded heart and angelic wings.

Soaring across my dreaded planes,
You've unearthed a bewitching spell
Traverse the peaks of my realm
And allow me to dwell in your depths.

Life imitates art... and electronics?

Everything depends on the plus and the minus. The positive and the negative. Including heaven and hell. Don't get it wrong either. Being positive isn't saying "let it go, it will be fine" it is saying "no, it has to be this way"! It is thought to be cruel to tell someone they are doing something wrong. But is it cruel for a cop to harass someone who is cooking burgers outside? I don't really think so, but it is WRONG. You stand in that negativity protected by a union of black wires, Blue wires. I am the positive red wire that they try to call negative. I choose to be the white, neutral wire, but they say ******* is wrong, and make it a race issue. I scream, "*******"! They say no, so I go back to being the red wire. They say that is wrong, but I still choose my own power. So, are you the red or the blue? We depend on each other, even with opposing polarity. You can't be red, white and blue...it is impossible.

(electronics have a red and a black wire for positive and negative. It used to be a red and a blue wire...and a white wire that is represented by an N.)