playd8

smile bright 

god is sunshine

melting laughter

out the gutter 

something right 

weak hands 

kisses, hugs

keeping straight faced

getting high 

rolling circles 

round my cuboid 

you’re not a big drinker 

and I get so serious 

don’t know what time it was 

lookin’ so perfect 

high hopes

though there’s fire 

burning in the distance 

forever after 

doesn’t exist 

groovy 

baby spin it 

forget 

like the first time 

like the last time 

right now 

right now we got sunshine 

god is light reflecting

off your eyes 

unravel

the greatest thing 

you did 

was let go 

(the timing will

never feel right)

tried to hold on

to fingertips

(appropriately my

palms drip)

emotions pour 

from my pores

everything feeling

reactive

hypersensitive 

too curious 

goosebumps swept up 

in stories and strong words

slowly the spiral of learning

the beauty of letting it all

fall away into sequences 

chapters, looking back at

the scenes but not being able

to edit 

I’ll never forget banging

those poles into ground 

dust still in the 

crevices of my flip-flops 

but this isn’t right now 

breathe 

I follow through 

I will fall again 

my love is 

a deep well

for drinking and I

can dip into it over

and over 

consistent and flowing dark

it takes a certain type of 

animal outside of me 

to want this wet

patience 

hair-raising

tingling, fingertips 

(it comes again)

I will find the woods

many times been 

etching this pattern 

of habits in my psyche 

for years 

and will continue 

following the maze 

of pleasure

(did you feel the pulse)

thank you for 

opening doors into me 

that can’t be closed

thank you for leaving me

in silence 

only to hear the echoes

(of dreams that can become real)

reverberating off 

the ponderosas 

silencio 

latenight garlic crushin’

thyme, pomegranate, mint

quick-sear the lamb chops

browned butter drips

sippin’ rosè from a mason jar

smoke drifts out the shattered window

said she’ll fix it tomorrow 

said he wasn’t hungry but

the bones shine clean

the pendulums swinging low 

now I can catch it with one hand

and wrap my legs around the 

clock parts of the machinum of time 

and make it shudder in its 

slow, determined patterns 

ride the wave of passing moments 

in my turquoise jeans and Wu-Tang sweater

sparkin’ a space monkey spliff 

makes me think that maybe 

when we die we’re just waking up

from a dream 

from a matrix of fresh bread, soft puppies, merry-go-rounds, alien movies, bicycles, thunderstorms, green tea ice cream, sandy beaches, butterflies, narwhals, quilts, kisses, knee scrapes, matchbooks, quails and tents in the forest 

and then it’s something else entirely 

Heartbeats

slippin’
I’ll just keep on
stay with this
ice snow drifts
wheels runnin’ in the dirt
want me to fix it
I’m tired, a kitten
alternating realities, this
psychosomatic whirlwind
it’s feeding
the lights could be dimmer
draining,
succulence
plant ginger, plant garlic
perhaps it could grow
in the frigid window
really
just focus, breathing
avocado stay moist
one day, just maybe
you’ll become a tree
our thoughts turn
to words
symbols, reality
sewing seeds
when we talk about
escapades, reveries
little curlicues of stories
open to windows
to worlds
thank you for sharing
music with me
your soul
your laughter
have a nip
a taste of that
sweet nectar
with me

The maze of me

rippling
throwing stones into an ocean
searching for the wander
that has been me

the twisting butterfly
can’t go back
once cocooning is complete
welling waves
get me every time
why can’t we stay
with the water
the sweet milky place
carving at the story
over and over
she teaches me
to love the act of letting go
it makes the sunset everbright
it makes tomorrow
less dark, less scary
I could stand beneath
volcanoes I’ve imagined
learn to harness
the intimate energies
working within my body
soft, strong
finding peace in distant callings
in the words between
long silences and longings

drifting
in that sweet soulspace,
pulling guidance from
the maze of me

Wander

duality dribbling
trying to disconnect
from the illusory circuit
cyclical, all of it
a matter of recognition
when I see the same teachings
dressed in dark shadows
and fanciful costumes
a preoccupation from
noticing the obscurities
clinging to the corners
like dangling cobwebs
a jumbled pattern is
what it all boils down to
we are what we do
and some things are a virtue
the wander will continue
we are not static
the feelings are
simply sensations
drifting inside and out
of a quivering fleshbag
the antidote is always
to drift from that place
from the monkey emotions
to find serenity in the elements
in mountains, in the forest