slippery highways
tongue traverses yellow lines
the crash is magic

"I feel like it's unfair. I feel like everyone should have that one tooth to show off, even if their smile is only one tooth. I feel like that's only right."

He told me, if you are in this class, you have to stop feeling and start thinking.

[Shrug]"I think it's unfair. I think everyone should have that one tooth to show off, even if their smile is only one tooth. I think that's only right."

He asked why?

"Because I feel like..."

STOP! Stop feeling. Think.

That night, I told my girlfriend I thought I didn't love her
I don't think she liked that very much because I never saw her after
but I've been thinking ever since
and whenever someone tells me I'm thinking wrong
I feel mad
but I ignore it
I think I'm becoming a better person
though I smile less, I think more
whenever someone says I feel
I tell them think
I tell them Grow up and use your brain
I tell them think

One day
my professor gave me an F on a paper
but I thought he was wrong
(I never once wrote the word feel)
but he said my thinking was wrong
so that night,
that night I thought long and hard
And the next day I gave my professor a FINAL grade
and I thought it was fair

Now I'm sitting in this chair
me talking to you
you asking me
how do I feel?
How do I feel?

Honestly...
I don't. I don't feel anything.
I think feeling is a waste of time.
and so when those currents come shooting through my veins
pleading with me to feel, if only for one last time
I'll smile
and tell them to count my teeth!

On the other side of fear is greatness
on the other side of greatness is ___

the thing about lines is they never end
always polarizing into two sides
that gain assurance in contrast to the other
           who are you without comparison
this life is geometry
characterized by curves and endings
by spontaneous turns
   that neglect signs
signal right and turn left
when the crash comes
there's a thin line between life and death
at least
           that's how the unconscious paint it
but thin lines are the easiest
  to blend      blur
         sometimes even erase

I died last night in a dream
and awoke to a nightmare
it was a thin line I didn't want to cross
but intersections aren't always marked
and crossing isn't always a choice
I X'ed out my ex and now
I'm not sure who I am
   or why I ex-ist

sometimes an intersection is
a new origin
and axes rotate naturally
to create novel planes
   a transmigration of the soul

on the other side of reality is reality
question this
make curiosity of this point
but don't stand on it
the intervals of change may shift
but change is the word
the rule
the ruler by which measurement comes
mark my words
on the other side of fear is greatness
and on the other side of greatness is    t h e   u n k n o w n

keep changing
something always looks like nothing from far away

A field of four leaf clovers
at the end of a rainbow
a trail of gold coins scattered about
   this is my path
a yellow brick road carved throughout
with lurking black cats and white butterflies
what of luck when you are constantly saddled
with rosemary and lavender
when hummingbirds and crows
seem to follow your every step
I go to sleep in birdsong and wake up to harmony
my luckiest moment?
my luckiest moment??
when I take this breath
  or the next
and the sun continues to shine
I drop a few gold coins
seeding another blessing for another day for another person

Once, neck-deep in a valley
I found a few hundred dollars
on a sidewalk
awaiting my presence
     -happenstance-
Once, I left my job
to freefall and never land
and I am still floating
      -coincidence-
Once, I met a witch
who blessed me with
copal and quartz and oil
and the anointing still stands
my luckiest moment???

Tomorrow
when serendipity meets mundane
and the die roll 7, 7 times
as if I live in complete abundance
I do not know of failure, only progress
and so perhaps, just maybe
my next step will be my best
if only to bare my sole to the world
and be received

My luckiest moment is a thread
of gold constantly woven into a legacy quilt
and is it just me
or did it just get warm ~ cozy
this is my life
and to live it
is the dream I used to sleep on
but I can hear steady chirps
and so I know I'm awake
   and well
at the end of some rainbow
crunking with leprechauns
and shooting loaded dice
luck? luck?!?!

I cannot lose.

Life has a funny way of mocking the non-believers
like reviving a heart just to kamikaze it back into submission

You were like my first sunset
a beautiful portrait of cascading hope
you were the colors that made dying days into dreams
a foreign land full of possibilities
I could close my eyes and wake half a world away with you

                   but life is funny
                                              ...HA

I been drifting round for lifetimes
seeking found on shores unknown
weeds a'tangle, castles tower
all I want is to lie down

They say nature is our mother
moon a clock of ever change
try so hard to never waiver
steady tides wash in so blue

Rush and crash, break and swell
may be time to set new sails
rest on winds call it adventure
wake on dust not mine to claim

Sun a beam of hope unlost
do it all without a cause
found a lotus in the blinding
cresting waves ignore the fall

Rush and crash, break and swell
may be time to set new sails
rest on winds call it adventure
wake on dust not mine to claim

he stood at the precipice of the most beautiful sunset
breathed in the colors
                            ... and exhaled loneliness
inhaled THC
              ... and coughed out a single sigh

he had seen it before

but from a different angle altogether
over the hills of her body
the colors seemed more vivid
his senses more alive
against the soundtrack of her heartbeat
the cascade was more than just a view
it was a glimpse
                              of what life could be

this is all I can do to stop the words
the anticipation of something great
      or disappointing
I hope the former

my stomach is a pit
that deepens with each  l  o  o  s  e  breath
diaphragm creates space for love
and pain
unsure of which will last longer

I cannot see your face
but I can picture your desire
it is mirrored in my eyes
clears a home in my mouth
though unspoken

I want to part your lips and slip you a secret
   I want you more than my form can hold

can we melt together
is this too much to ask for the first time
if so              I can stop the words
   (their expression, at least
not their existence)

we are static on these channels
rushing to be heard
whipping through empty space like a fast current
         where are we flowing?
just trying to stay current
         what are we showing?
currently nothing
                         we are static
can you hear our unintelligible pleas
      please...
   listen
can you hear us
      rushing
we just want to be something
rushing
   can you hear us

listen
         listen
    listen to the static
we are more than just noise
hear us
                           please
we are changing

Get quiet
         No, more quiet than that
Be small town back road
At 3am
Get still
         No, more still than that
Be tree that cuts through breeze
See change centuries away
But stop your trembling leaves
Let sap cry but don’t move to leave
Or brush away the tears
The world is healing
   And breaking at the same time

Get quiet
Enough to hear rifts under seas
Still
Enough to feel the shattering of cycles
The process through is not easy
Urges to relapse yell loudest
When siloed
Misery loves itself
Do you love yourself?



Don’t answer-
     Be quiet enough to hear the answer
Still enough to taste your fears
  And insecurities
Savor them before
Spitting out
Versions of you have                  -                must
Die to make way
Make a friend of grief
Hold its hand
And when you feel ready
     Move forward

She lays there a pregnant woman
the future a burden
kicking from the inside
    begging for its time
        pleading for fruition

hush now
                     I lullaby
you will come just like I came and my dad came and my grandfather came

                                   loud and after two minutes

she lays there a pregnant woman
and I swear
                      I can feel the future kicking
I am coming it echoes
...and so it was
    ...and so it did

Train Sets were always the coolest gift
I mean, I never got one
but that's what the movies say

now I ride trains daily
monotonous jumble of
commute.work.commute. sleep.

a ******
   brains get swallowed whole without my morning Joe
but there was a time...

...there was a time when
I rode that Polar Express to bliss
        crazed off hot chocolate
   golden ticket in hand

then
I slipped on ice caps
instead of sleeping on beaches
dreaming up Mad Hatter candy mogels

then
Tom Hank's voice was the patter of reindeer
and magic was cast by wizards
   not scientists

A White Beard
wise as Gandolf & Dumbledore
   specked with canyons of God
would laugh jolly into a nation
        into a season
   into that dusting galaxy of a child's eye

that beard
   holy and revered
would laugh humanity into a rattled world

slipping down chimneys
it would leave propaganda of hope
in the form of trainsets

No, I never got one
     but I loved that beard
        and the silver bells on its sleigh

they are voiceless now
but I keep them for their shine
I miss those days
                 ...sometimes...
I think about them on my train rides
wishing I had a different destination

who is to speak for the voiceless
     when their mutters make not a sound
who is to speak for the broken
     when their pieces cannot be found
Not I said the boy
     No one has spoken for me
so walking home
     he avoided cracked stone
          his eyes diverted down
and he saw no evil
     because he looked away
          until that very tragic day
               when it stood directly in his path
and he hadn't a clue what to do
he opened his mouth with a yelp
     but no one heard his cries
he was now the voiceless
     invisible to our eyes

you can find reprieve in the burning of a candle
the flicker of wick
  pure animation of life

come and dance on these ponds with me
submerge yourself in scents unknown

have you ever bathed in lavender
come out dripping royalty

this, is the secret to passion:
dance in the wind
dance til the end
and when darkness comes
light another candle

to save a thread
            or cut it out
     or
           let
                  it
                       dwindle
the     natural      route

On living:
each breath is an act of creation
can you imagine nothing without color
inhale white, exhale black
let all the in-betweens refract

On dying:
each breath is an act of destruction
can you imagine everything without color
inhale black, exhale white
let all the in-betweens detract