Despite myself I find myself,
Thinking about you again,
You don’t make sense to me,
But the rhythm of your thoughts are predictable now,
Someday will never come,
And my dear,
Someday we'll be together again,
Perhaps I say that just to leave you happy,
To leave you in power,
Because I can sustain most damage,
Or at least I've yet to meet my maker,
And maybe then I can play the victim,
And maybe then that means I think you are fragile,
And maybe then I'm a cowered,
And maybe then I’m a sexist,
But I can’t control why or what,
With you
With you,
Never again.

Jellyfish clouds in drift,
Their invisible tendrils,
Zappin’ n' trapin’ air,
Leaving the sedentary dead weight,
Directly on my shoulders.

The nostalgic Sahara heat,
Travels through time and space to Ohio,
Where a younger me swam in the,
Not actually cold but cooler pool.
Ten years but two seconds later,
I work there, Date there, Talk there, and eventually
Leave there

I took a walk down the boulevard
enjoyed the air
The trees
The gum stuck to the bottom my shoe didn't bother me, Oddly I found it comforting
like I had a reason to drag my feet
continue down another street
hoping I'll run into the girl of my dreams
still asleep day dreaming while my feelings play for keeps
The memories didnt seem to stay in their lane
instead they hopped on the highway and followed their way to the heart
Bad news for them it's up and left new location and brand new spark.

We’re all self-seeking in the dark.

Why is it that You Change when the lights go out?
(A wreck-less absorbed soul chasing a silver wind)

Do we change who we are for others?

-Because if we’re all self-sold.
Then why are you selling yourself for anyone?

And when the lights come back on, you’ll see the damage you’ve done.

What is your mileage?
What distances have you carried yourself?

Tell me of the roads.
Of summer evenings spent gliding on smooth, black asphalt. Tell me about the sounds, harmonizing with the warm thrum of your heart.

Tell me of the beaten paths.
Of midday walks on cracked, uneven sidewalks teeming with life, giving way to budding blades of green, and dandelion dreams.
Tell me how the sun stung your skin, how soft breezes whispered at the nape of your neck.

Share with me the memory of winter mornings past.
Of the biting chill kissing your cheeks as your feet trudged through soft white expanses.
Of the cold that set in your bones as you waited for the bus, and the fat wet flakes that fell in flurries.

Tell me all of it.
About the freedom that spring brings, the buzz of bees and possibilities. The gorgeous lull at 10am and the swell of your soul.

Tell me the way the falling leaves of autumn trees speak to you. How their crunch tickles your mind.
Tell me how October skies dazzle you, while the stars shine, reflected in your eyes.

Spend with me a moment of intimacy. Show me the things beyond the windows to the soul.
Share with me what your odometer reads.
Let me read the map of you.

Pensive and delirious,
I stroke my whiskered chins.
Though I want to suppress them,
I can't help but smile.
They're mine, mine, mine.

Denim and cotton,
Rolling tides of fabric swaths
They tumble softly

It’s Wednesday.
Some ungodly hour between
4:00 and 6:00. Maybe. I’m not sure.
My mind is soft, unfocused,
sleep-heavy.
Dawn’s greeting is gentle, loving.
A mother’s smile. A susurration, interrupted
by David Wolfe promoting the NutriBullet on an LED screen.
Avocado, kale, blueberries.
Pseudo-science babble stems from wild,
bright eyes, overflowing into bohemian curls. Overgrown and unruly.
Enthusiasm and conviction have
never been more entertaining.
Billy Mays and his dynamic personality pitch.
Stubborn stains shiver before the power of OxiClean.
In a parallel world, I have bought out
every kitchen appliance, every menial utensil
that will revolutionize my quotidian life.
Those ped eggs, the George Foreman grills, Shamwows.
And I am content,
as I sit on my throne of ShamWows,
draped in an oversized Snuggie.

Reading Shakespeare over [old] coffee this (27May18PM) afternoon, he's right, I should be very thankful my brothers love me.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMCLXXIV)


Ya, pensive as grey shadows lenthen hence
Across warm, sun-washed lanes, that thin detail
Lost to our keen pursuit of whither, pale
Erm figures of huge trees 'non fingring thence
Our thoughts or passage, while none ask fr'intents
Just where we're going in such haste, the tale
Of how enough, as I've ne heart t'avail,
Wont to feign smiles as if I'd their defense.
From diesel pick-ups to slick cars, we tour
With yonder at our soul, these cloudless blue
Skies so expansive, 'til I realize fer
All that how empty tis, sans soul, the view
No longer grand but galling in a poor
'Scuse, where ne lover but deceives anew.

24May18a

If you take away my skin
A pensive heart you'll uncover
Pensive heart born to be a lover
The sadness you'll find behind my grin

My pensive heart will never know
How soon is too soon
Or if I should look to the moon
My pensive heart doesn't know
If I go to fast or way to slow