doubt

i never like to say goodbye but there is a wind behind every one of us that takes us through our lives. We never see it; we can't command it; we don't even know its purpose. I would have stayed among you longer but that wind has taken me away. I will miss it here. I will miss you but I am content that the power that compels me does so with superior knowledge as to what is for the best; and that is my faith. I would like to come down among you and say goodbye and wish you peaceful hearts and loving hearts.

- Father Flynn

sense and sensibility

i dont often feel it. but when i do i want so much to tell you and for you to tell me and for us to roll around making those pinching lip sounds on each others mouths.

when is it okay to express this not in a friggin song?

First Recordings. I have time on my hands. and a guitar
(failed upload of six recordings here)

i cannot help but write

i cannot help but write.

i walk through the streets
and cars are shapes and smells
and reactions

women with their babies
are trees with sapling
and sighs.

and my eyes are the page;
my thoughts are the poem.

a year of two seasons

trumpet honeysuckles
in fire pink and yellow
drape over cement
in anarchy.

i remember summer last
and it is spring
with a new coated fig tree

and trails of jasmine.

the suburb swirls with sound
and i cannot help but fling open windows
despite the warnings.

there isnt any harvest yet
there arent fresh picked apples
and wine

there are puppies, and shopping lists
and traffic

and a welcome mat.

FUCK fantasy

where are all the chariots and orchestras?
or even the locking eyes on the northern line?

there are just middle-aged lonely mothers
stuggling to keep their gmo'ed tykes fed

and confused spirits defending their freedom
within and without this sordid boon.

zadkiel tells me purple that i must have faith
but faith is just faith.

just how far has my consciousness expanded
if it is still my consciousness

and i dont understand sometimes
and i miss you everyday?

belly-buttoned

again, and again, and again, and it takes me time
to get back to this moment in center:
waiting for something to happen, strengthening
like.

Hello, Darling?

You must know how hard it is:
While I was snotting into tissues
about how it hurt when you
you were you drinking coffee and a magazine
and limping into buying groceries.

I am back and it shows in my ways
again.
What is the point of this, again,
to appease you?
But who is you in this?
and me?

All I need is distraction and purpose and support
and adoration
and for me
good intention
and i'm up and i'm up.