in the surface

sunlight

dirty dishes
from forgotten meals

eaten fast
and quietly

slow air

good we have a table
to collect them all

to keep the memories alive

connected
a million times over
but all surface wires

light

touch
where a little more
in my head would be welcome

a little more interest
a hand
and hearing about pains
rather than approved ads for my life

triumphs come
unpredictably

but to have souls
to be with

more

could let live
and thrive
a life as it is

not only in
its brag-able moments
but in its anything

everything

Lies End

When living
lies
ends
getting well done...

am I a surviver or criminal?

Just trying to
get by,

but that's where
all excuses start.

Bad deeds
done over

and over
in well fitted sheets

are not
as white
as the bleach tells it.

Under the ashamed
and read face
is only a total
where a complete should be.

Guilty
and
alive.

Living alive
ends
getting well done.

What is...

Is a bird
what is

long
after its wings
have outlived their gift?

I think
it's very much so still
there's not much of any telling,

just the quiet heavy is...

Is the sun doing anything much
different today?
Or just is?

It's only the me looking.
From here.

The hell of perception;
all the magnificent and damned,
a judgement all the same.

We let be what we like
whether that's a great plural
or neat handful.

I've seen a least a shit or two go to hell
And come back burned,
So I'll take a plenty.

And hope.

Through letting all eyes
Have their sight
And being

Hope

That more
is surely
to survive
and flourish

though any
big bad wind,
flame,
or asshole
with an army
metal wing and all.

And even that asshole
Should see what mountain it is
To hold any down and any up
Than just an all helps all

Long after
The wings are worn
We need an all us
That can survive mirrors
And history books that victors write

Where has the Light Gone

Where
has the light gone?

Its rained,
fogged through
or greyed over
the last three weeks
like a bus on time.

A normal
I take
because it is

not because its right.

And that is
a vast canyon full of difference
for those that don't notice.

But as easy
to just do
as socks under shoes
unless your the one
with broken glass
to pick up.

Where
has
the light
gone?

Only Me

I'm only me,

and a lot
like broken glass
but with heart.

Hard
at work
holding all the pieces together.

Wanting only smiles,
but asking for them while in full grimace.

Mistaken
both within
and out.

So exhausting just from a to b;
bed to coffee,

but lubed
to slide on,

and add years
to the weight of regret
without a finger in the lift.

Perfect
at this living
on the fence
between
two brown yards.

I am only me
and disappoint accordingly.

A day
Soon
When we are

like this or
laying down,
waiting
maybe ready or not
I hope we connect.

again,
or...

say a thing or so
that lives

and remembers
more than is.

The save
is in seeing I am not as is
not enough can become

and desire creates actions
that redefine and expand
yesterday's legends

or reasons if you must
be simple here

only me,
is only
if I am after that alone.

We
so simpler to say
and fuller all the way.

edges sharpened
or worn
beautiful
all the same
if used to grow.