chasing bliss
is like chasing tides
one moment at reach
but never collides

my bones are broken
from the life i suffered
now, i cant stand still
so i let my body sink
beneath the gritty silk

i'm half submerged
from the neck down
i relish the ocean breeze
and marvel at the spectacle above
of purples, pinks, and blues

i stare into the horizon
as i await the currents
and when the sounds end
i close my eyes and whisper gently
take me to zion

I imagine that the best possible future,
is the one in where I can look at the sea waves breaking on the shore,
without mourning their end.

Time is not a line nor a road,
It doesn't pass by in equal integers:
It grows,
Swells,
Accumulates-
In small moments,
Gets caught in the reefs.
larger pools for more prominent moments.
Boundless depth in a singularity.

To see through the eyes of a dead man,
In a moment long past,
Forget the small,
Happy,
Tranquil,
Streams.
Waves career from the bigger ones,
Crashing into my small boat.

To be cast from the hull
And sink in the singularity,
Be consumed,
Drown.

A moment doesn’t pass,
It clings,
Accumulates.
Swipe at the water,
Seeping in,
Try and throw it out,
Before another wave…

The time we spent
Continues to consume,
It swells,
And dwells
In the foreground,
Always.
Time does not pass by,
It is here,
Screaming,
Just as it always has been,
Growing.
Haunting.

I don’t think that I can bare
To accumulate anymore of our time.
My lungs are full,
I have choked on the untameable mass of the lamenting sea.

torn free from the ground of
pregnant ideas and withered
internal dialogues.

aloof in the face of destiny, crying
for refuge among the disowned,
the dismembered, the disinterested.  i
alone exist in the maelstrom of abstraction
crafted painstakingly through my ages
and seasons.

a mind as sharp as mine
to raise me without feathers
and place me
among the mulch.

i blanket my canvas with
woes and worries alike, neglecting
the foul-mouthed begotten son
arranged among the pillars left standing.

crooked trees and iced stone to
vibrate
through these ears of clay.  

i miss the days of youthful
ignorance and exuberant hope shot at my
future like a cannon of pride
and confidence.  

today the final summer flowers exhale
notes of sweet becoming, ever mingling
with the hum of nature's eternal embrace.  
the bodies celestial in ambiguity spin and
swirl in irrevocable sincerity.  from rise to
fall, through night and naught, the world
recurs again to weave itself anew.

happy news penetrate
through my fading
soul like a wave
washing the
traces off
sand;
                            easily.

You call yourself an island boy
Though you've barely left the shore.
Still, I can see the resemblance
Because your eyes shine like stars on the water
And you're as steadfast as the cliffs
Buffeted by heaving tides.
Your arms are as warm as the summer sand
And I forget to breath when I watch you sleep
So I feel the peace of drowning
As I'm pulled into the depths of utter devotion
To you.

"Love me",
Your very existence seemed to whisper to me
Even though the words
never rolled off your tongue

You fixed my soul
You filled in my holes
That I didn't even know existed
You caressed
My darkest demons
and they willingly became your slaves.

How could I not then,
Become your prey
How could I not then
be the salt to your ocean?

Until one day, you decided
to be a lake, surrounded
by snow-capped mountains
and my salt was left on the sands
waiting for your waves
to come and sweep me in your arms

But you never came,
And I never rode with an ocean again.