There’s a silverback haze
on the shallow face
of the Rockwell Ridge
folded brow
puzzled chin
and dark hollow eyes
keeping watch
over the lilies
and crane flies
and will of the wisp

Rust brown ravens
and fisher kings
delight
in the reeds off north bend
(chased by the terraced streams!)
youth blades engrain
on the favoured
and historic
Banka Memorial

Mustard
and pumpkin skies
are clipped
by a call from
the resident loon
the sounds of Buddha Bar
piercing the silence
and shaping the afternoon chord

It’s a time to make way (stream side)
seems the anuran are courting

I spend too much time searching for home in people
I compare too many of them to the likes of it
I find new ones often and always
And I have made routine in my arrival
I set down my things, make myself comfortable
Find a spot next to the fireplace, directly in the presence of warmth
I curl between blankets and couches
I get to know the surroundings
I notice parts that most tenants would neglect to
Details are my specialty; I note each down with a sense of clarity
I create a photo album in my head for every part I should not remember
But I do, almost effortlessly
All of my senses take notes in permanent ink
I keep track of scent, sound, taste, touch, images
I engrain them into muscle memory
I begin to forget that this place I have settled in,
Isn’t mine to get used to
And when I have overstayed my welcome,
I am asked to go
I pack up, leaving most of me behind in the hurry
Once again I am forced to move and start over
I always do.

I look for home in too many people who’s hearts aren’t available for lease,
Bodies that are merely curtains hiding wreckage
I knock on locked doors hoping for an invitation inside
And the ones that are open are usually not prepared for company
I move in eagerly to creaky floorboards and leaking roofs
I pretend that there is nothing wrong with the structure
And when the house caves in I claim I didn’t know better
I willingly stand under shelter that doesn’t have the strength to hold even itself up
Then complain about the lack of protection when the rain comes
Natural disasters are as unpredictable as I am eager for constancy
But it is no fault but my own when I build upon fault lines
I know the weather forecast and still continue to create
I have become skilled at making something out of nothing
And nothing, I’ve learned, can only stretch for so long.

Epilepsy. Bipolar.

The words that we speak.

Shear words into our hearts, unfolding before our eyes. Both engrain a fear of desperation that speaks louder than words.

It isn't so bad when you understand them. Almost one and the same, unpredictable in their paths.

One has it, the other doesn't. The path that we both share, both unrequited. Like love. Still, like love.

We share.

Uncontrollable actions bloom forth from seizure to mood episode, blossoming forth an understanding that surpasses understanding to those to don't experience it.

And all that is needed is love. And understanding.

We share in that we both yearn for a world that understands our actions, never to be trusted from within. The pain. The uncertainty.

Are the same to those from the outside. "Oh, she has seizures." "Oh, he's depressed." The words we hear. "You're unreliable." "You're too much for me to handle."

The shame.

We deal with that which we cannot speak, yet we understand beyond words that comprehend. The path laden before us untrodden yet familiar. We push forward because we must.

And we'll do so again.

Together we'll conquer both or be consumed, unyielding to the torrent from within. Because we must.

We must.

Push forward.

That is the only way.

Born to death, left in dread, not knowing if I'm alive or dead. Born with no bed to call my home, I was too busy struggling for my life in the ER room. That was just my beginnings, death wanted me bad, but don't worry I make it through it knowing life won't all be full of dread. Grew up with parents not being together, getting bullied at school, sometimes I just wish I got buried in some tomb. I used to look at life so positively, but with so much crap coming at me, Doctor Phil could easily write my own biography. Then junior high came, and that was a whole other thing entirely.  Man, I wish kids could just get home schooled those years, because then I may not have needed that psychiatry. Then finally high school came and prepared to my past experiences was so heavenly. Before school was like the hunger games, survival of the fittest was my only option. Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, I'm scared that if I say do something wrong the past will strike back at me. So I just stay quiet like a monk, but **** me off I turn into the hulk or some volcano eruption. Wondering why life ******* me over, why people have to be cruel, finding out it doesn't get better as I get older, just wanting to finally be me in this supposed " land of the free." What I’ve realized is; that this country is a monotonous hellhole, home of people who pretend to be nice, because as it's all about our image. This is reality so I’ll just pretend that everything is right with the world, not looking at all the problems and crap not who I am supposed to be; which is me? I'm sorry that ain't me, I’m just so fricken tired of being herded by society like I'm some moronic sheep; conquered by the white privileged. Well baa baa black, brown, yellow, and red sheep have you any wool? No sir no sir it was all taken by the white sheep, why don't you ask them for some? Reality is the whites control everything no one can touch them without paying with your life, hope this truth open the eyes of those who are non-visual because it’s time to stop acting like ignorant fools. We need true equality, we need true freedom, we need change otherwise we stay oblivious to facts which is dumb, which we need to stay away from! This world is full off suppressive segregation, everything must be taken, ignore the horrifying facts of the past but rather let’s look towards the future. Well I would like to but the fact is we can’t because there will always be racism and violence, it’s has been put into our genetic tract since the beginning of time. Since we ate that forbidden fruit, since Kane killed his brother Abel, ******* to this barbaric nature to engrain it’s disease into our brains like a tumor. I guess it’s just human nature to be horrible killers looking for anything that can fill us for some sort of enjoyment like some kind of disturbing nursery rhyme.

You think, but you don't think when you walk
step by step, heel over heel, toe to toe, forward in the forest.
You think, cause you can't think about much else
'cept your next step, its the step that comes next.
Provided there's a path, trek steadily
**** the hills, engrain your heels
in the plush, pebbly mud, positioned sneakily
under the leaves.  

Presence, breath, refresh,
relieve, unwind, unconscious,
maybe even semi-aware of the subconscious,
slow down, speed up,
listen.
Hear!
Understand, demand [passively] your peace,
your piece of the land.
And you're a piece of the land.

Hyper fixated
my mind keeps on racing
with entwined and abrasive
slights to my native ways and my nature
always finding a way to
sabotage and engrain a
sense of imminent danger
along with the worst ways to
mend and to gauge
making positive changes
on how I appear to myself in my brain
I'm hyper fixated
My mind keeps on racing...

Dance around me
Kiss me like a flame to paper
Consume me entirely
And then let me fall apart
And get carried by the wind
Until I am nothing more than an echo

Sing to me
Embrace me like a tree to earth
Hold me tightly
And then speak to me calmly
Until I realize that I am not frozen
In this simple place forever

Play inside me
Flow through me like blood to the body
Fill me relentlessly
And let life carry me up
And be a storm that sustains me
Because the storm is the purpose to live

Whisper the truth
Free me like a caged animal
Engrain me with reason
And unchain me from the rules
So that I can finally breathe
Because freedom you tempt me
Dance, sing, play, whisper to my soul
Show me how to live.

When I finally said goodbye to you
without turning
to say it again
I kissed your cheek
and tried to
engrain the moment
in my head

And I walked across the
hospital room
to pluck a
mini
carnation from your
sack
Where I closed my eyes,
absorbed your sighs,

and then never looked back.

Born to death, left in dread, not knowing if I'm alive or dead. Born with no bed to call my home, I was too busy struggling for my life in the ER room. That was just my beginnings, death wanted me bad, but don't worry I make it through it knowing life won't all be full of dread. Grew up with parents not being together, getting bullied at school, sometimes I just wish I got buried in some tomb. I used to look at life so positively, but with so much **** coming at me, Doctor Phil could easily write my own biography. Then junior high came, and that was a whole other thing entirely.  Man,I wish kids could just get home schooled those years, because then I may have not needed to get that psychiatry.  Then finally high school came and prepared to my past experiences was so heavenly. Before school was like the hunger games, survival of the fittest was my only option. Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, I'm scared that if I say do something wrong the past will strike back at me. So I just stay quiet like a monk, but **** me off I turn into the hulk or some volcano eruption. Wondering why life ******* me over, why people have to be cruel, finding out it doesn't get better as I get older, just wanting to finally be me in this supposed " land of the free." What i've realized is; that this country is a monotonous *****, home of people who pretend to be nice, because as we all know it's all about our **** image. This is reality so i'll just pretend that everything is right with the world, not looking at all the problems and crap, and not be who I am supposed to be; which is being me? I'm sorry that ain't me, I'm  just so ******* tired of being herded by society like I'm some ******* sheep; conquered by the white privileged. Well baa baa black, brown,yellow, and red sheep have you any wool? No sir no sir it was all taken by the white sheep, why don't you ask them for some? Reality is the whites control everything no one can touch them without paying with your life, hope this truth open the eyes of those who are non-visual because it’s time to stop acting like ignorant fools. We need true equality, we need true freedom, we need change otherwise we stay oblivious to facts which is dumb, which we need to stay away from! This world is full off suppressive segregation, everything must be taken, ignore the horrifying facts of the past but rather let’s look towards the future. Well I would like to but the fact is we can’t because there will always be racism and violence, it’s has been put into our genetic tract since the beginning of time. Since we ate that forbidden fruit, since Kane killed his brother Abel, ******* to this barbaric nature to engrain it’s disease into our brains like a tumor. I guess it’s just human nature to be horrible killers looking for anything that can fill us for some sort of enjoyment like some kind of disturbing nursery rhyme

Willow
Like a stark, marmalade tree
Carry your grasp to me
Your bedside river, warm and soft
Leading to a loft

Willow
The green blinds in the room
Paint a path for the sun monsoon
And here, the world fits inside a frame
Holds you and a cherry lane

Blankets under our heads
I’ll paint what time has seen
The clock has fled
To entropy

Willow
Keep me in your eye

The sky will quake
The neighbours rake
And I, in your wake

The chariot men will have lost
When the world is frost, I’ll be under you

Willow
The arch of an ancient tower
The bells of a dawning hour
I wrote it in my sleep
Hoping it all seeps

Willow
We’ll grow old with our brigantine
On planetary seams
Morning, diurnal moon
Don’t wake too soon

Trinkets over our eyes
A screen of sateen
The past speaks loud
With doubt

Window, open
Leaves fly through

The sun, it bends
The world extends
But I’ll find you again

Hum the words, engrain the worldsands
In the hand of time, you’ll meet me in golden lands

When the room has grown a skydome
I will leave it, knowing that you are safe at home