#collectivity
sun-drenched clouds cradle me while I drown in grief,
a sucker punch thrown somewhere inside a dream
this city I know by heart turns suddenly foreign,
familiar streets now veins, sluggish, worn
park trees sway jazz-like, but the tune slips off-key;
new shoots whisper secrets in broken code.
people smear past. watercolor faces running.
ghosts? or am I haunting my own life?
oh to feel something, anything real.
even my tears feel processed, manufactured,
pre-packaged grief: buy one, get one free.
and still the city breathes on, asthmatic, alive.
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 5:01 PM UTC
The diseased roots have come to
lay bare. My fear so strong, this one thing secretly
paralyzing me, feigning it be a natural
friend or even the paper on the wall, written in
reflecting ink, permeating every part of me.
When time calls out for the necessity of my
bold action, I will run out into fire for another
but for myself, I hold no peace. So how can one
come out for other beings like this? It’s no
fact of toil, the lot befallen to us, all
the weary, is love. So when these hearts have the space
to call for justice, the lone world will tremble
from our contradictory bravery, unity in the
numbers, forsaken by only the giro templates.
If only this fear knew the strength I find
in lonely places, solely accompanied by sacred whispers
of revolution. How much we want it, I hear the call
in the night across the vastness.
The uncaring trees with pleading hands
will burn black, and the little birds fly free to
where fear no longer exists.
© July 28th, 2014
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 9:50 PM UTC
The tide is coming in.
Off in the distance, I see young swells building, aging, ignorant of whats to come.
Using the ocean floor like a springboard to launch itself into a force to be reckoned with.
All these individual elements, the ocean's collective energy divided among its waves; fractals of something much larger.
In their greatest moment, they come crashing down, seemingly ceasing to exist.
I stand on the shore, a bystander, observing the energy return to the source, ripples being created from the death of waves.
Their relevance lasting as long as the shores remain stained.
And in this moment, I feel better about my own mortality; knowing that my relevance doesn't end when my body dies, that my energy just goes to feed the swell of another wave to come.
And I remain a pillar, unmoved.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 9:46 AM UTC
Aptly, and with your handshake
A toil of repose, too heavy for whim
Seeking a smile, that is a rainbow to make
A sunny excuse, for any who would take time with timidity
Sense from a dangerous rainfall...
A hat of composure, is won to elect the heed
A courage in a careful least, a problem call
Of vice, in this blustery forth, is a relationship with seed...?
Compare mere, to the rest of tomorrow
We are a place for peace, today
With an hour, to select the better of a world to borrow
Love, and the stern subject of trusting a wink's may
The hatred moved...
Salt and hymn's of vision, so far a going health?
That has seen your whimsy, a revolt of the irony loved
But is a creation of worth, a solution in resolve or wealth?
Smile...
The price of psyche, is but a beautiful day
Were you deceived by a breeze, a court of seldom on the mile?
Where once upon a time, a decided austerity has kept, your sate...
Ten seeds in a row, the pace of curiosity
Has dug, and with misery to prove
Is a rage of spoil and deepening depends, a virtuosity
A passion if observed cares, that loves faster than itself moves
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 1:04 PM UTC