mellow wish

 

dear god, if you exist,
I ask redemption,
let my end be blissful
my beginning, forgotten,
let all my labors, egos,
be mulch, my life, meaningless,
but for my love,
let it be all-consuming
inevitable, and true,
and consumed, and left alone,
let my heart never stand
still, in doubt
let me know,
in the deepest way possible
every human
who will make of me
a masterpiece, and leave
before I wake, and start crying
for more, let me be dead
before these tears
are louder than the heaven before
no matter how small,
give me the minute, when it
was perfect, is, will be
and I'll believe in you
I promise ...

 

mores, mutes, life and times

 

still life, picture painting,
smooth photo finish,
when the world turns,
a season comes,
and all we have are wishes

sunk into the vast sky,
hopes will be
dispersed like pollen
gathered like birds,
they make new life, listen

after the trees are cut
the buildings built
the living room moves,
the people in it,
are lit by fires
we cannot see, the roots

too big, the world outside,
watching the sun arc
trying to hide,
until the day,
is just right,
and the dusk, too dark

still and silent
inexplicable, says to me
as I rage, today,
is just right,
if you're looking
at the river for life,
if you're talking
with the sky for time,
if you dare
to take your life
up to your eyes
and watch it live
you may also, watch it die

 

sleep

 

Last month I dragged my feet along a long corridor and saw what a blind man couldn't. When I tried to walk his shoes, my heart mended with envy. An hour of blindness only made me want more.

To take ten minutes to brush my teeth.

To understand the textures of my clothes, and be frustrated with how many I have, and how similar they feel. It no longer mattered how different they looked. They all had holes for the head and arms, they all covered whatever the world would demand be hidden, whatever, whyever, that battle I must stop fighting sometime. And when I was blind it made even less sense than usual.

When I finally opened my eyes, I wasn't as happy as I had imagined sight would be. Its just the same old world clouded and gray, infinitely demanding once its figured out I will pay. I want a little blindness, every day. Perhaps its just the novelty, still works. I won't struggle any more to darkness imprisoning me, I am chaos, I need a prison to understand.

to close your eyes
and take ten minutes
for nothing
is never ideal
in a job filled space
words, ideal career dream
called life

loss of freedom
its always a wolf
at the door, whine to howl,
one 'give up' away
one generation of shuteye

we don't stop counting
the ways to heaven
as we sit and wait
and meanwhile
someone else invented fate

 

strange kinda heaven

 

where there is so much laughter and no tears, no anger, no violent passions, or burning feet, its because, you're so amusing, always messing up, but never mind, she loves you, very much. all day long, all the time. and your favorite food is always empty, that place where your head likes to rest, always covered in junk, but she loves you, very much

if you shivered, froze, thats because honey, you don't love her enough, how can you be cold, in the warmth of endless love? and if you feel fear, whenever you tell her something you dearly wish, rest assured, its just your own guilt, she moves heaven and earth each minute for you, only you

when she turns away deaf, as you're talking, when she tells her friends you are someone no one cares about, but her, but her, when stars shine down upon your life, and ravens curse, upon her pristine wings,

when her veil of eternal sorrow cannot disguise the purity of her thoughts, and you are merely unwise beside, shoddy, awkward, rude and morose, her eyes shine with love and life, for you baby, just for you, wake up, wake up and smell the flowers and the smoke, paradise beckons in her smile, all you need is to open your eyes and believe

 

linger on

 

constant pieces of paper
fill my hands and crumple around me
some tears, some cold wet hands
I didn't see them come
I don't feel them leave
but when I turn around
they are real, white, more real
than you ever were
I exchanged them for you
and so, you are real
within an hour
its time again to clean
the wise man told me
to take the best part of you
make it mine
im trying, my corridors are long
my resistance a million ohm strong
with frequent demands and time
every reason I need
to never think of you again
I cannot, I keep
your memory, your corridors
so much deeper and darker
than mine, and you smiled
smiled, smiled
my mouth hurts
at the unsurpassed beauty
of life and death
the clear little bell of charm
yours, that didn't exist
its now mine
I can't say thank you yet

 

dresden china

 

steel hands
nerve train fragile
deathless design
blue platelets
broken beautiful
my shaman of burning souls
my mood, surrender, hope
with a spritz
of the sea, a shock
of cold wind,
strong and sure
no rules, comments or chains
a spirit fey and fated
that walked unafraid with sin
played a tune
beyond mortal reach
and stilled a cry within
effortless lightning
delicate, precious and young
as I hammered at it
lost, alive and clear
as I searched underground
for power I didn't understand
until it crashed and burned
and I went stark blind
the skies did not talk
but the rain flood
poured and flayed
sunshine came tumbling
to loom and fade
and my wayward heart
and crazy will laughed
in delight, at power
and laid down arms, agreed
to believe in fate

 

duluth

 

somewhere inside my head there is a nerve without a home. it wanders around unhappily opening and shutting windows, staring at the carpet for hours. words won't register, my balance is worse than usual, I feel encumbered and woolly and unsolvable. there are corkscrews turning in my head, gleaming metal efficient, they produce nothing, they never stop turning. talking and listening and moving and touching and everything have moved away, I feel this planet slipping from between my toes. it will be interesting to see where it goes.

while my soul wanders, while the banked fires of rupture and ennui roil around my mind, while fever and fervor in equal parts join with aspirin and flood around each thought, restless and strong, the season changed outside my head.

on a single road sing trees of every color, rustling happily in time to wind and blinding in sunlight, fiery orange, yellow, purple and red, as they prepare for their leaves to die. its quite a poignant sight, a celebration of the inevitable, a glorious refusal to let life get them down, a stationary defiance to skies beyond their control, bursts of unexpected and marvellous songs in the middle of an ordinary time, ruthlessly disciplined to move in straight lines, but it dont make a damn bit of difference to magic, never has, never will.

my fever dissolves slowly. my fervor calms, murder leaves my heart, death is also a celebration, a big bang bow, blow kiss, goodbye. how can I not love change in a place that changes so often, a place that withers away so beautifully.

their outfits and colors all coordinated, they conspire under the ground, their roots tangling and exchanging secrets, how else do they know how to compare and contrast each others shade and song, find the same cycle to run through at different speeds, to touch each other and create a glorious panorama of differing colors and sparkles, all the same, all different, magic together, magic alone. there are a few ways to heaven on earth, and they are all reached by a single nerve, in love, unsure, lurching, falling, content, disconsolate