whole worlds
live in my dirty toes
and I clean them out
every day I can remember
and I mean clear them out
the sun so rare
and I don't care
I know we are all trying
but sometimes it just comes across as so little
I can't even invent a complement
hands and paws just really are not
interchangeable
close enough to sometimes understand
in the way you can glimpse what might be the details
in dark fields and under trees at a great distance durring sunset
but all you really see is the amazing colors beyond
that is how little I can know
and how much awe I can have
at almost the same time
and that is how
how flawed we can all be
in the right wrong moment
Friday, August 22, 2014
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Less Lost
All that
begins
is just
closer to death
Me here stalling
am immortal
dreams of so much yet to be
no realities of such and lost
I think we are all the hunt
or call it the search
or the becoming
but so many
once there, or worse once
far enough to see the next valley,
fall upon swords
knowing this is all the better it will be
all the better
it will
wills to be
So many days
from the dream
and so close
to the darkness at the end of the tunnel
Me here
I'll stay dreaming
little done
but less lost
begins
is just
closer to death
Me here stalling
am immortal
dreams of so much yet to be
no realities of such and lost
I think we are all the hunt
or call it the search
or the becoming
but so many
once there, or worse once
far enough to see the next valley,
fall upon swords
knowing this is all the better it will be
all the better
it will
wills to be
So many days
from the dream
and so close
to the darkness at the end of the tunnel
Me here
I'll stay dreaming
little done
but less lost
Through Open Doors
Every journey
only opens doors
Never decorates the walls and closes in the warmth
The handshakes and back pats
all fall
on a heart that knows now what
Every journey
only grows you
makes you feel
only that you should have always been able
So short lived
is the real joy of the push
the last miles that could be nothing less than one foot
over one foot
and no other thought
Such clarity
has no room
and yet the world gets back in
and rolls every edge dull again
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Found and Denying It Still
the alcohol
pulls my veins to the side
and makes them matter not
to the happiness of my head
I could throw so much away
and not lose a thing
for the moment
sure a sun somewhere has a number
it's figuring is mine
but it is not,
not yet,
yet mine
for now I am invisible
or free
free under the darkness
and its fine black feathers
wind at my back
leaning on me with all reassurances
fueled by whatever no matter
fueled feels so good
so good to always
always come back here
again and again
but really
as often as this ends or begins well
it more often ends
an end all alone
or less than the sum
of all that went in
and away
so long to find a mind that was sound
or enough so
to be me
and all this time left
left to avoid it more
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