sometimes
when the moon is full
i sing

and sometimes
when the moon is full
i dance

i come alive!

But most times,
When the moon isn't full,
I'm proper.
I'm polite.
I'm dead.

I got the news this morning
Not the way to start the day
Another friend had fallen
I now grieve for Johnny Ray

I can not hide my feelings
I'm not sure how to feel
I wait for him to phone me
This just does not feel real

Let's celebrate his life though
Not with prayer, let's sing and yell
We know that he will hear us
Up in heaven raising hell

When you lose a loved one
There's things they say to do
But, ***** that, let's get rowdy
Let's do something loud and new

Remember them through music
Do it loud so they can hear
Sing, shout, be vocal
They're gone but they're still near

Tonight we will remember
On the stage we'll sing and yell
So Johnny Ray can hear us
Up in heaven raising hell
Yep, Johnny will sure hear us
Up in heaven raising hell

As our pale blue presence
Dizzily dances
In the same single sunbeam
Restless over how alone
We really are

So sing at the finish line
Sing that sweet swan song
Because all shall become nothing
And in the nothingness
We are lost

The totality of time
With every moment spent
But that was then
And now it's gone
Im not sure where it went

You know what?
I want to dance!
Down the street without music
I know the song
It's memorized
Embossed on my brain
So you can have your Oldsmobile radio
But I WILL dance down the street
Deal with it

You know what?
I want to sing!
In the hills like Maria
A song all my own
And the hills and breeze will harmonize
And the stream will dance
So you can keep your televised singing reality
But I WILL sing in the hills
Deal with it

You know what?
I want to run!
Nowhere in particular
Just away
And that's perfectly OK
I need air in my lungs
So you can keep your treadmills
But I WILL run nowhere in particular
Deal with it

You know what?
I'm going to shout!
From the highest mountaintop
The world will hear my deepest cry
And with happy tears I'll finally cry
So you can live your life
But I WILL shout for mine
Deal with it

I can’t keep giving you this favor you asked for.
I can’t keep this promise I made to you.
I’m sorry.

I’m breaking everything.
I’m shattering glass,
I’m tearing down walls,
And I am unapologetic.

I didn’t mean for it to escalate this far,
But then again,
Here we are.

I can’t keep this promise,
My skin just wants to break free.

I can’t keep giving you this favor,
My skin just wants to be against yours.

I am ripping your poems to shreds,
I am slashing tires to your sweet ride,
I am breaking the gazes between us.
I am unafraid.

I can't keep loving you,
This stupid schoolgirl crush.

I am walking over our memories,
Crushing the seeds you grew in me.

I am destroying the thought of you,
I am rendering love identical with night.

Tears don't stain my eyes,
Neither does pain.
So don't act surprised.

I am dancing again,
I am singing once more,
And I am not in love.

I am the moon once more,
I am the sun again,
And you aren't the stars.

You aren't the reason.
You aren't my rhyme.
You aren't a poem,
Let alone mine.

You're just a shell of a man that I once loved.
Even then, you're still empty.

Leaves pass by me singing the song of the nature,
The wind echoing the sound of the Hummingbirds,
They all sing in language that I don’t understand,
But the music was never about the words,
Your voice is sweeter than the nature’s orchestra.
You are not the melody to my ears,
You are the symphony to my soul.

There is a
song inside of you.
If only you took the
time to sing.

Summer rain, melting Arctics
and the lipids lining the nerves
in your brain. These are the metrics
of our times. Mere resolve

is not enough to take care
along the highway—you need wheels and prayer.
When you realize there’s no there there
that’s a scary day. End there.

August, the extinction is terrifying.
Quiet, too quiet. 100% humidity, not a single insect flying.
Summer morning, summer evening, sighing
the sighs of purgatory—grief without pain, death without dying.

I’ve chosen the safety of these mountains
and the beauty of their mists—such perfection
which anyone can have for the asking.
All you need to know is the names of things.

Conflict, coercion, war, strife.
Flying high in April, shot down over Germany.
Have a good day. That’s life. Fix yr brakes.
When I hit a pothole my fillings sing.

Anything’s possible, it’s impossible
to know what will happen until it’s happened.
You can’t know what you’re doing until it’s done
and even then you stare in wonder

unmoved yet moved by the stillness
a pure goodness, bone stillness, potential energy. You can practice it
in the city or the desert.
The wilderness or the mirror over your dresser.