Friday, October 28, 2016

Dreams Suck


Dreams suck
at living

So much
a feeling of peace
and being
and no ability to survive

All they do
is let me go

go on doing so my other things
cause after all
I'll get to the true me

some sunnier day
never mind how I like clouds

Is this shit I have to shovel
Any lighter
Because I have you,
My dreams?

I'm about to send
a nice big fuck you

Like I think you sent
in small pieces
so I'd not notice

Misused


Like rain
coming all the way down
only to find the gutter

No long winded business
in the soil

No time in leaf and stem
No roots

I sit here and wonder
does the house have to be empty to be alone

I feel not where
I meant to be
or maybe just
how I meant to be

But something missed
for sure

An all I can not give up
even now

Send in the Clouds


Oh repressive sun
send in your clouds
I dare

Enough of this light
stuff I can see but cant

All you send
is really reflection
I can't touch
barely a little warmth
my stove burns faster

Yet somehow you spin
almost everything that moves here

Or maybe just what crawls
And scratches the surface

Send in the clouds
rain my thoughts
out of mind

Too small
and as fleeting
as this light
I cant hold

I'll just stay here
and watch the cracks
fill

As it all runs away
To the big ocean

Something
I can always still
Go find

Fair Slides


I like
my good thoughts

But it's as much
the slips
as the fair slides

that have me
here

In a rewarded place
with stories that deserve less
but are more interesting

The this
that made
by many a chance
added carefully
over years to ripen

You don't have to smile
But I'll only remind you this once

These are far to welcome
To ensure scarcity

Smiles
and my good thoughts
especially
when
when they are together

Brittle


Branches
with glass leaves

Little need
For a world of wind

Collisions
all ending sharply

That is too often
my world
or how I feel getting along in it

Like I
am a bad ripple
Shattering

Instead of asking
why the world
let itself go
and get so brittle


Spent

I spent
  the first
         half
 of this pass

      this life
   waiting
to become

Now the second half
      has passed
    and loose change fallen
  I spend my days regretting
never having

but weight I have
  heavy

a being with obvious finality
  and I am not even all that close
    but it is no longer out of sight

salt in tears
something I hope to never forget the getting over of
all the many times of it

all the make-up sex
and this and that
and more

all the who the fuck cares
now so much everything

here


here
I have a ear
to cry to

a shoulder
to check my chip
upon

no rules
about shoes
on either side of the doors

simplicity
is not so bland
as it normally would have

oh
how good
to be
home

how little we share


I play
like I think ice lasts forever

Live
like limits are everywhere

Disconnected

Push
where pull was due

Standing tall
when a fall was gonna come with no out

And I could have just gone
down
and been back
so long ago

No
for this anything
made of nothing
I stand

Things last a long time
But rarely are the same for as long

It's like sometimes
we're all windows pretending to be people

All these walls
and furniture we see

Then the world
just a small glass square
and [what's visible of the] outer wall

Both
so unaware
How big
all the thoughts are

and how small
the sharing

We see each other
as frightening giants
and mighty small mice

at the same time

and commit all the crimes
both views
make seem
small

please melt the ice






















Put Away


I keep getting
put away
fully loaded

Ready to go off
at any moment

or be jammed
up and silent
when most needed

How do I measure
alright
All right

No more smoke
to guide
the emergencies

A sharp
numb
calm

Hurts
But does not raise
couches

Living annoyance
Like a bussing black fly
But one that stays in the other room

Please unload
Or drop
and start over
I keep echoing

and unfortunately
listening like I am telling

And so
here I am
on loop.





Sunday, October 23, 2016

Setting up

Living to die

Or how about
living to be born

Setting up
for a day
when you know
how to do what you want
or are needed to be

Oh yes
I do

But I fear
still a bit
more selfishly
than a most made of all
would approve

Something I can still go find

Oh repressive sun
send in your clouds
I dare

Enough of this light
stuff I can see but can't

All you send
is really reflection

I can't touch
barely a little warmth
my stove burns faster

Yet somehow
you spin almost everything that moves here

or maybe
just what crawls
and scratches the surface

Send in the clouds
rain my thoughts
out of mind

Too small
and as fleeting
as this light
I can't hold

I'll just stay here
and watch the cracks
fill

As it all runs away
to the big ocean

Something
I can
always still
go find



Uncertian

Sand makes glass
if you're hot enough

I've become clear
in a few occasions
to be in such a presence

But mostly live in mud
finer and more to the point
but forever uncertian

something more

Like rain
coming all the way down
only to find the gutter

no long winded business
in the soil
no time in leaf and stem
no roots

I sit here
and wonder
does the house have to be empty
to be alone

I feel not where
I meant to be
or maybe just how
I meant to be

but something missed
for sure

an all I can not give up
even now
but still
something more
can be


A more often better world

I walk into so many issues
without remembering this war
is not the one I am from

This might be what peace looks like
but I know so much I don't ask

and my number 12s
step all over
shit I should have seen

or at least stayed out of
or been asked about first

a world of catching up
slowing down
and never knowing
how out of sync
we live

Am I trying to help
show off
or be of value

Do I
have a clue
about how
they even begin
to differ

No
I'm made
of gray
and in betweens
at best

but I like happy faces
and the taste of things
that make them

So when that's not
what comes
I'm still gonna go on learning
and stepping
towards
what I hope
is a more
often better world




















Tuesday, October 18, 2016

in the getting there

the joy
in love

is fed
in not always having

in an empty space

missing a kiss
not always being the one with gravity

the happy
start to fill the air
with more thanks
than long songs of love

Friday, October 14, 2016

cold

cold bits
and lost blankets
pine away

and I am not
sure where I fit
not happy
not warm
not cold

a lost
of its own

different
than knowing
you'd out to be
doing a thing one way
but drowned yourself instead

and different
than waking the next day
vowing to do better

no
stuck
between
any future
and a lacking as big

moving
as slow
as you'd expect
given the clarity

oh
if only I were cold
I'd at least know
to start out towards a blanket

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

beautiful browns


today
your beautiful browns
are looking blue
to me

only it's a bit more of lately
than new

I hope that despite
my loose grasp on my own shit
that I have something that betters your scenery
and doesn't just clutter up
otherwise empty space

It's so hard for me to get above and build
busy pounding down so many loose nails

needs and problems
over what should be

there is so much more
more
I want
want to do for this circle we dance
and never the time in a day for my speed

Here's hoping one way
or any
that those browns
find their warmer glow

high hopes

just because
you can play a guitar
doesn't mean I like your fingers

or any pick
they made believe

so much great sound
for a caged
and enclosed space

I am sure
despite what I feel
this moment

that there is
not enough

in there
to live
all the way up
to these expectations

high hopes have
a greater chance of respecting gravity
than flying on

and that is
what makes
hearing
for now
this just so
so very special

every high
must escape the last
or be just everyday

Friday, October 7, 2016

Spent reclaiming


recent years
spent losing

I hope

only like winter trees
in rest

with springs
ahead

still mornings
bring moments

once in a here
where I remember

the time
that's fallen

between then and now

but
those

they quickly
fade
to clarity

counting
around me
to make sure I still have

but stopping
none or little
heart

even small
touches
should

but in their absent
leave me only wondering
would they

would
they very often
far between

do now more
for longing

or anger
at their withholding

I hope this is
just darkness of cold
and not the all
and new to be