Transcendental Harmonies

2012-01-31T21:08:00.000-08:00

Hand me your breath,

and your curled hair in mid-winter

down by the harbor,

and

I can see black shimmer through almost-opaque glass.

A single wavelength, and I find a second in

the orange sea.

And weave through me the lattice of your heart.

Stars descend,

and clap their molecules.

Noisily shatter,

create a fire-sky.

hurricane diptych

2011-12-28T10:42:00.000-08:00

You were quivering, and it was August.
My feet tracing rippling water, in Muskegon,
and behind a coffeeshop, a history descends!
A remembrance- of forward moving motion,
and an exposure to a yellowing sun.
I can equate movements to rhythm,
but the flower I am waiting for has not yet descended
to your fragile, open hands.
-
Shouted loud to protect your name.
I find it hard to differentiate between structure and form.
Your redwood lips are tea-leaves,
my fingers graze over them, in the dark,
to find eternal meaning, or evidence of creation.

manuscript fog

2011-12-28T10:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday’s brilliant sunrise,
and today your heart turns to magma.
Glass melts to liquid, which hardens into stone.

I've fallen seventeen stories.
Woke up in a cathedral, in France,
under an in-situ ceiling.
Samuel said, “leave nothing to chance,” as if it were a person.
but no- it is a force: forks, twists, pulls together, and tugs apart, with no discernible reason.
Metal wedges against itself, but does not rupture.

The kaaba which we have been in worship to was fetched by Elijah,
bursting into a knot of neon flame.
A fragrant ascent, in Arabia.

Yesterday's brilliant menagerie
gives way to today’s cemetery
of desert-bones.

in woodlands, december

2011-12-28T10:22:00.001-08:00

I have wrapped your arms in tin,
and with it, a certain eloquence.
He notices beauty, and I, transformative nature.
and terrific unholy material.
My inner spirit dwells in the natural environment;
I pulsate under stone bridges, in flight.
Body yearning to collide with spirit;
to exist in open landscape-
for knowledge to permeate its form.

Decay has no ideas of reference,
no planetary constraint.
It arrives and it flees,
from our re-opened eyes.

I fall below you in mid-morning,
as lightning stretches from your fingers to the sky.
And yes, if your mind extends and begins to wonder,
I do. I finally have my quiet satisfaction.

paper patterns

2011-11-21T21:14:00.001-08:00

holland,

and we passed our brother's home.

in moonlight, demanding entrances.

paralleled yet reversed (in unconscious floating worlds)

cocoa at 9:30;

rushing to attend to discoveries.

until an orange light bursts beneath my skin,

i trail down mountain-turns, three sets of three:

gong/entrepreneurs/dirt

seven/cocoa/cold scarlet floors

delaware/tintinnabulation/cheek

pomegranate hands, be yet afraid,

and do be unnerved: Gaia is a dark, tumultuous place.

and deep red.

2011-09-04T19:45:00.000-07:00

i found constellations painted on your back.

search for me in autumn wildernesses

my lips stained of wine

from the cellar of your heart!

clouds congeal into a single terrestrial object;

flowing newness and a hard-earned obscurity.

eternalities

falling between my fire-eyes.

but no distractions can pull us from our slumber

where music penetrates our physicalities

and herringbone patterns are etched into our skin.

evening west

2011-08-18T00:00:00.001-07:00

we have wildflowers in our hair

and a spirit moves across the lake-

rebuilding skin;

hunters in July.

i have returned,

but not so fast, my hearth in daytime.

fires settling under our feet.

sky descends, and we turn new,

and maybe i have not sinned,

and maybe i have yet to become new!

a found magnificence

i yearn for a life of white

pleasures: renaissance art, cliffs, the human form? i am guilty. sleepers, or sleep.

from far away, one may be convinced we have wings.

"no, nothing. i gaze at the sea."

2011-03-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

S, with ladders.

in a green labyrinth

follow you into water.

a crowd of people,

amazed by rectangular, floating magnifier

and afraid of confrontation

told him,

there are two ages, and we are moving into a third.

love

and love

and a third: love.

haven

2011-02-12T18:22:00.000-08:00

How could a single, breathtaking blueprint

of a swirling river bring us back

to yesterday's acquired certainty?

and--- I realize I have esteemed you higher--

on a pixel-landscape in a flickering culture!

More integrated, and more afraid.

So may I stomp and stomp

and stay afraid?

And He- He who is buzzing in the empty

space between bodies quietly held my hand, and spoke:

"You, my quiet daughter, have a single harmony, split in two."

His splashing eyes are garlands of an altered consciousness!

Thank a most grateful God!I am biased, but

I might still hold innocence.

An innocence named Anthracite.

An ever-moving, floating thought transformed:

purple, twisting and turning above my praying hands.

What I have to wonder about is immaterial,

given the fact that your eyes are a bluish grey,

and not at all close to what I had expected.

Of course I have acquired different realms,

but my heart is in none of them.

Pollination

2011-02-12T14:17:00.000-08:00

And the moss on the temple doors show

a silent awakening.

How I felt compassion for his damned son,

caught in the frequency of a transmission receiver.

Along the shores of the Amazon River and

running with him through

fields. There is no

coincidence that grain blows in

the same direction of our dreams.

No, not at all.

Replaced your feathered pillows,

because your body decays

in front of my clouded eyes.Yet,

I look to the sun and realize,

Your eyes are my eyes!

Where are you hiding in the wooden house?I worry for you,

and your thoughts.

But more, I worry for my self-satisfaction.

topiary

2011-01-25T00:23:00.001-08:00

A gong sounds
and I am gone: seeping into the sand.
half changed to glass.
But your snow melts in my hands; secretly placed on a reflection, during shifting sunlights
to hear evidence of physical life.
Silence overtakes my eyelids
in the deepest night.
Stuck
in the dreams of a mothering form
who has no concern for my existence,
only the bones, angel, that you gave her, and the glittering skin that was cloned for her own.

to err

2011-01-25T00:22:00.001-08:00

You have the whitest eyes.
She spoke of her trips to India,
where she sipped chai
and bathed in ancient Rivers.
but how does our landscape seem to an outsider?
I understand the movements
if migratory birds, yet
I don't comprehend their choices.

Come stay, little fawn
come, and lie down at your grave.
Your soul is thin,
as a tissue is thin
and it can be wrapped around
your quiet bed.

"Don't fade,"
1096 questions,
one for every day.

spinning seems to be of some significance.
also: springs.
But a desire for exploration took us to the Netherlands.
No, I hadn't planned
for it to be this way, but
I saw a photograph and my intentions quickly changed.

I also wrote about your hands.

re: presentation-fear

2011-01-25T00:18:00.000-08:00

I slowly disassembled the weave I
anticipated the most revenue from,
and yet I mare a pattern I myself
would like
contrary to heavenly doctrine.
Could a dissatisfaction be more vibrant?
And I would associate with desert animals,
be they less intrusive.
Find me terrain where I can spin in circles,
or electromagnetic springs, which show feelings of longing.
----:----

I am slow and innumerable,
and tigers warm my feathered bed!

I still hold your teardrops in my weathered eyes.

A natural renewal
made my physicality twist,
have I yet chosen this fate?
Decided this, for a complex growth?
See that l won't fall, love.
But He is still the brightest light I see!

precise representation

2011-01-25T00:17:00.000-08:00

Dreamt of two avalanches,
one after the other.
I am whispered to, but I
want something greater.
A surreal doctrine,
or immortal soul.
Not wood on wood, but gold on gold on gold.
An Emmanuel,
deciphered
for a regretful earth to behold.

A turquoise freedom,
but what does my triumph cost?
A feather, floating in the wind; or a sovereign trip upstream,
to find your mother-soul.
But I am yet aching in the heart
of my one-ply ascender.
I want to wrap up my hope,
but my tower is far from here.
Chose letters for you,
each less important than the next.
My intuition isn't so good, now.
So find me walking in the clouds.
Whatever I have sacrificed here will be present in the next world,
and I hope my personality will
reflect your gospel of love.

Trembling Sons

2011-01-05T01:28:00.000-08:00

We have a distinct night, and

harps swing, under our chests.

tomorrow: Previ, a city under the

sea.

to pack beads in my pocket,

beside a linen satchel. and it even

held your name!

Felt a moving tirade and ancient cities,

far from Trevino,

a powerful age, and terrestrial

manifestations of your physical

thoughts.

Naïveté reigns therefore,

and when you explain you are leaving for a

better city, I will let you be.

I cannot hope to wonder beside

honeybees; are your eyes as

distinct as I remember?

Late telegrams assigned to your namesake

sat at my doorstep, but I wondered

how close inhalation is to ------.

Shying from your tessellations, we

visited castles carved into rocks,

and I hope I will be somehow part

of it, in a coming history.

You see, the past is ours to claim,

as the messiah rises through infinity.

Wandering ought to be

accurately renamed 'destitution',

at least exploratory knowledge

found in petit sea anemones and

other such ideal lifeforms are existent.

2010-12-17T14:53:00.000-08:00

Icicle,

2010-12-17T14:46:00.000-08:00

Sleeping under wings,

and red stains my eyes!

You whisper, a dissimilar variation of languages

borrowed from ancient ones;

yet! my!life!is!not!exactly!what!i!expected, love.

2010-12-12T21:43:00.000-08:00

Bones on bones on bones

and marionette skeletons.

I awake, but there are leftover feathers in my bed!

Staircases and yellow sweaters

still, no longer exist;

I am human, after all.

2010-11-28T16:25:00.000-08:00

rabbits, under two nests, in the field,

the sun expands! and it expands under my feet!
but waterfalls, black waterfalls, and diamonds spin and shiver
held tightly
in my hands
there seem inverted mountains
that'd be fine, to wait
"no. no need,"

and red, also/
hard to not repeat the same things overand over, but might be significant cycles
and three years, or two
and three years, or two
and merging together
and merging together
afer darkness, but still ancient songs
in bones, exist
wait, it is here,
wow, now it all comes

2010-11-27T15:51:00.000-08:00

A deep red bed,
and circles, rushing inside circles inside circles, inside circles
My eyes look above but,
"At least I know. Yes, yes, at least I now know,"

Communion Song, Pt I

2010-11-20T22:42:00.000-08:00

In a church with high ceilings,
vines encircle a piano
shaking the floorboards, where lilies are planted,
and inhabitants are curled up
under the pews
as stained glass melts and
hardens each body.
How each heart is looking towards pleasure,
in a time of despair.
Yet still, my brother plays
a funeral song,
one about disappearing
amidst a divination,
at a shared dinner table.
Yet, my heart felt at rest
and my small hands
held on to each passing note.

Stars moved from their assigned paths
and fell into my eyes
where I saw the lungs of the Creator.
And in their exhales, a most
beautiful song--
one about disappearance,
and
a greatest hope.

Communion Song, Pt II

2010-11-20T22:39:00.000-08:00

I am disappearing
but I am at rest
inside my brother's song
in a historical meal
and a hopefulness fills each soul
as we move into
a parallel'd position
where we look towards a mystical
coming, as two, or a single being.
I am yet flickering into nothing completely.
I am being twisted
in a tiny sphere
amongst black stars,
and a furthest heart
rumbles into the center of a fragmented hemisphere,
where a bedroom in a dark wood is filled
with embers, and you
held the match.

Tied to my hands are ribbons of red
and a man pulls them
to lead me to my tumultuous demise
steps downward
I am disappearing
into a brook
where there is no shore,
only branches,
and branches for miles.

I am going further
into shades of black--
sometimes crimson.
each time he taps an ebony key,
I stumble,
and my ribbons are tangled
and I become close to
my oppressor, a man
in woolen blankets,
telling me to rush,
to not stumble,
for what I have to do is an important task,
one to be done immediately,
and never feeling so far from
a clearly recognizable point,
in my mind's map, I know
exactly where I reside, but
the universe expands with every
step I take and it expands under my feet.
I have no home
and my heart is not found in the steadily
increasing heat of my (body?)
How could I
fade entirely,
without a defined choice?

2010-11-20T22:24:00.000-08:00

I feel my words have fluttered to a better home.
but your hands are made of clay.
yellow birds sing in the pear trees
beside the nook in my bedroom.
I could make you
a pillow to rest your head on, but no,
I cannot heal your disease.
three felt divine,
maybe there is less than i realize.
I yearn for white.
white on white on white on white
white for an eternal shimmer
white for my unchanging castle home
no-
i am leaves
on the bark of your tree.
How are we all cracked to let
the Divine inside?
or are we slightly open,
to let It out?
one day, your heart will stop
and then where will we be?

holding hands, above the clouds?

2010-08-27T16:50:00.002-07:00

I am alive; I am in wild wind

take not my introspection but hold my hand

and let me

show you gladness

Some snare-drum contemplation

caused sea to tumble;

sending me to my already packaged grave,

where birds gently hop

to illustrate the fragile nature

of resurrection

Are we breaths in the eyes of our fathers?

Are we flickers of immaterial silence?

But brother, I want to be delicate; I want to be free

2010-07-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

in moonlight,

my kaleidescope beast

is gnawing at the simple existence

of petals in our outstretched hands/

he told me we cannot be our own solutions,

yet we still scream

from our rooftop porches,

"alive! alive we are!"

as our Earths shatter to the ground,

birds rise up from their graves

in endearing silence

as they get tangled from our torrential foreign winds/

you are flickering!

but i realize,

i still have two;

when did my substantial life

become hour-counting,

and leaping off couches to avoid incomplete affections?

and also buying secretive items, for your unnerving stash?

2010-06-30T21:07:00.001-07:00

We do not love things as we see them,

we notice them as deeper than they really are, you understand.

2010-06-23T11:35:00.000-07:00

Have you found a final message

for the everlasting offspring you possess?

And still waters

float beyond our stagnant beds

and bells

ring so very loud

a heartfelt

reverberation

of sugar-sprinkles

in mid-morning.

A singing mother wondered

about the truths being

thrust towards her

while

cymbals

fluttered with the thoughts of seven sailors

and writers- bound to the feet of their lovers

and beds! with a staggering memory

and a thoughtful recollection of singular promises

told in darknesses, we stood

Knew it had been,

for quite some time, but still

pretended naivety along silvered shores

"You are a thing of mighty, shaking beauty and yet,"

Still I stumble, quietly against your feet.

I am

yearning but do not move,

while you, a prince,

shove your way into the Kingdom of heaven,

but who now is the stronger one?

Be not the controller of super-faiths but fall

through your present shiverings

to wild ecclesiastical thrustings.

2010-06-04T11:06:00.000-07:00

pasting similar words, and giggling with a porcelain guitar but
did you still not quietly notice,
you were giving attention to a single one;
one you disliked most!

2010-05-21T19:58:00.001-07:00

With violeted thoughts,

treading through enforested landscapes

fuzzy photographs

and a single one, believed,

was the turning point in serenity (in rome);

and rosethunder that perhaps, was a breath!

en estralia, manipulated,

and yet our arms are still thrown up in flames!

thoughts---

and a flower, lying on your chest!

explained about an expulsion, of physicality and light

and a remembrance, a familiarity

with the moon, and little tears

and gashes! and gashes!

flee from me, springtime, for it is your laborings that brought us to exist!

2010-05-03T20:48:00.000-07:00

an expanded detail, but yet still, I love!

Acorn

2010-04-22T13:07:00.000-07:00

Be close, my dear-- lest our love

becomes ruined by metropolis sufferings.

oh! Lilies, and

violets of two-toned fields!

and one in seventeen-

and desiring a twin, but needing variance

from a single multitude, held close, and O! As the one in the similar city!

Noticing, what correlations between unrelated objects hold,

like a pair of doves, and the leaves beneath our boots;

or even! Wildflowers falling from our hair!

2010-04-22T13:00:00.000-07:00

Inside a yellowed albatross

in a jungled forest town

and a professor in a dulled shirt

and a treehouse overlooking the rustling bay

even--- to be dissipated

tomorrow, to be sad

and grey arched troubles

of harmonic gauges and

the freckled eyes

of an entire army

marching towards the sun

and eyes beaming into carbon particles

begging to be seen

by their stargazing lovers.

and bells tied to our ankles,

shivers make them

clash wildly into each other

demanding birds

to arise from their enwintred slumber,

under crumbled summer

weeds and frozen

bulbs of forever-flowers,

portals for our eyelids

and

tea leaves

held in our apron we saw-

a sparkling of light pink roses

from our knitted purses,

O, to be alive and wildly tumultuous!

telma

2010-03-23T13:54:00.001-07:00

i am always shaky in the dusty mornings

when lighter-than feather thoughts

awake from their shuttering cocoons

and the sun sits next to me, in my fisted but delicate hands

whispering violet'd but opaque desires

through a coffee filter,

"i have become slower,

i have become at peace,

i have become a lover, but yet,"

and red bursts from beside my head!

o, and granules of sparkling water

are present still, in my almost-sister's weathered boots

like suns shining, we are!

her treasure walked through the painter door

hands morphed inside constellations,

draped above the slow breath she leaves,

a mobile in the night, and silenced waterbodies, held by plants.

had we held her as a child, (do not falter now)

maybe a painter would have emerged from her cracking bones

maybe a wonder would have appeared on the corner of madison

well, try to change my nested qualities

you will not, you will not, you will not

a drawing, lost in a sea of leaves

and even spherical candles cannot whisk you into a life undeserved

2010-03-19T09:58:00.000-07:00

We are walking to a meadow

a little girl slept there

while her thoughts ran free

and wildflowers stained the seam of her dress

2010-03-18T06:13:00.000-07:00

Shivering

under blankets

in the morning, and at dawn

black, just black, I noticed

in the core of

some differing notation

"I can be near, I can," but yet!

A movement under ninth,

a drab harmonium,

or a dreaming among wolves?

Through sketched maps of a future colony

I saw

hands enwintered,

or ruins raised up,

or braids disassembled

all while drinking tea in the meadow,

which we knew

would grow and become a garden.

2010-03-13T21:32:00.000-08:00

"Yes, and even serrated misanthropes sleep in the dungeons of their darknesses,"

daybook

2010-03-13T21:24:00.000-08:00

in a stuffed catalogue

we are three, astropomorphic

and greatest limericks bursting

through raspberry groves, where

i had (so violently, inside) left

the painted door cracked open

an invitation, into

a paralleled kingdom, but lips

were shivering under riverbeds

of drowned fragments

that had fallen from our lips!

and Yet!

Restored gradients, from metallic streams

but where had the dissimilar misogyny come from?

2010-02-28T16:37:00.000-08:00

"Bring me back to castles with wildflowers, sun blazing through the fields"
in a gust of wind,

seventeen stories were told with a blustering talent

where whispers (purpled words from the land of vipers_

told rumors of the most specific things coming alive,

for instance, the tiniest of insects who were dragging

mammals from their graves,

or the formation of opaque galaxies, fed to hexagon-bellies

that we, as sorcerers could, perhaps,

hold between our blistered hands, where desired diamonds multiplied,

and a furthest beat in a stormheart of thunder bellowed

from the depths of a martian's thought

where little bumblebees

fluttered their archipelagoed glittering wings

into a quicksand of trainparts,

and blots of skin cancer

moved through hedges of boulders

to get to parisian hearts

in darknesses bound for precision-markings

on their foreheads

but yet, a still, faint familiarity!

scarred pools of blackened cauldronwaters,

some brisk memorial for a single fish-noire,

one dimly scattered Asian country, from forward flashing dreaming

to a waterfall edging on the horizoned babies' connection to the mystified whirlwinds of slumbered trigons

and furthest twisting of ropes into tireswings for sons of seven arks.

besides,

all is completely, unashamedly destined to arise as quixotic tracheas map out

air follicles and demeaning scratches on the ships lodged into clouds,

to stagger and become a solitary entity!

2010-02-27T07:40:00.001-08:00

inside an editorial

and trapped

between unfamiliar lavender sheets

a lion, perched on a pew between us

leaned on her,

a video, playing above our heads,

showed us tiny whispered orgasms

disconnected from us, but two in the same

and before, a church, to fast forward so lights can flicker

like stars eventually bound for darkness

just as a thousand bells rung

outside,

how, how would i still not be thrust

a gift of love?

3452.35/4771.69

2010-02-22T14:46:00.000-08:00

felt an urgency
beneath our skin to reconnect
and feathers
blew in the wind, to upstate georgia
where mountains were thrust from their foundations
into a sea beneath the largest glacier on Venus
"forget a humbled existence, and be cast into seascapes,"
she said, but
everyone,
including i,
was unaware of your arrival and i began to feel
that same urgency to check letters off,
pound on buttons,
release it into airwaves,
just to see your face after months!
just to spin in circles beside the Hudson!
just to, O God,
be the most glad being, and bones shivering from the love felt
from miles between, O God!
a celebratory unison
to a shared ocean, to an hour away, to, O! a gladness felt: in artistry.

2010-02-17T18:05:00.000-08:00

we shiver under quiet depths

with hues of azure and iron

some yellowed silence
and an infant, a demeaning death

where we had fallen into a

wandering earth, or hell

so far gone,

in a scarred atmosphere/unknown

but yet, a protection.

some gliding movement

of towers,

two by two,

and softest fabric, spun between our fingers,

as the cradle of a child

loses its balance and vanishes,

so we are left to flicker into non-existence,

or-- total existence,

whichever is more fitting

to our deep, deep selfishly inclusive souls.

forgive us of our innate curiosities,

of a joyous monument,

of a forest, annotated-

and even as the harp's strings

melt into glass,

our hands play on;

a tortuous morning

to a greatest age.

2010-02-14T20:36:00.001-08:00

some strange crimson marketplace,
a cosmic ballet-
yesterday's silencing heartbeat
morphed into a graveyard of the apex of steeples
where a single pulsing
under a crevice of fabricated directions, written on the tips of fingers
promised an eternal deliverance to the rings
that surround our quiet sphere
of still moving awakening,
a life,
beckoning to be found
lodged under
a darkness in ancient libraries,
an unresponsive brother,
or the glittering snowtides of the atlantic in february;
now be not afraid, little bee,
for a restoration seeps between your pores
and a lullaby
sung in several languages, simultaneously
will soothe a disquieted mind, as the giant
above our heads
steals momentous blocks of stone from our atmosphere
he sits, but holds tight
to sliced objects which could have possibly
created our interior to be
a deafening demonic force, to which it was originally hoped to be
before a fire,
before a fire fell.

2010-02-12T19:49:00.000-08:00

only a large expanse
between two jasper rings
could be a resting place.

a myriad of croixed porcelain
and diamond combed feathers remained,
floating downward,
into the lungs of miniature fawns
who held the laws of the underground
in their exhales
and with each slight inhale,
an explosion in the airwaves
of sizzling Shakespearean language
progressed and cracked into words we had not yet encountered
as babes, floating towards a single destination
where a gate of a hundred locusts were halted
and fell to the seafloor
to be crushed into algae,
into the sediments of a hungered tide.

2010-02-12T19:12:00.001-08:00

1.42113.4.1

of an artemesian peared form

but antenna's delicate buzzing electrocurrents
spoke to your brother, amidst a slow uplifting
of marriages,
to which a foreigner had not been interrogated, as of yet
how can one of three, become a perfect symmetry
unrelated to the scratching of bones together,
the shivering beauty marks on various parts of various faces,
or the stance one is found in, beside unearthed waterfalls?
how, can one:
of three,
become symmetrical, to another, over vast distances
relating to the metaphysical magnets lodged in our palms,
the understanding of words not yet uttered,
or the feeling of being spun a thousand times
where the earth is tilted on its axis
for a split-second?
how?
how, when three from the same inch of skin became,
a fragrant memory between a glittering snowbank in the pacific?
where had a childlike fortress of sharpies on wrists,
promises in deep darkness,
or a rare feather seen circling the habitats of seventeen mammals,
bound to their lovers
encountered the Light?
understanding became a slow, dreamlike annulment
of vows not yet felt
from a pair of friends.
a photograph in the 40's in a darkly stagnant
burial of stone and ash
was finally uncovered
in a trinket-box
in the sea

2010-02-06T22:04:00.000-08:00

A gradual moving downward, on both landscapes
where a single violin had been pleading for another,
under a fit of heathered snow
i wished
i wished
i wished

upon streetlights in daytime,
upon uniquely freckled eyes,
upon a silvered, distinct night.

from the multiplied pixels above, i saw it-
so romanticized, such a place of peace, and realizing
i could
i could, i could
and still not mind, though- so loud it felt,
between hands,
so mighty a slow descent.

Are we differing forms,
feathered wisps of energy,
meant for articulate explorations;
or a single lioness' grave?

2010-01-15T21:27:00.001-08:00

major vessels and vibrant hues of multifaceted darlings, to be shattered between glasses. respectable men: fall.

2010-01-02T13:17:00.000-08:00

"he will be,"
G. whispered,
"but it will be differently from how you think it will progress,"

i breathed deeply,
and sighed and sighed and sighed and sighed.

2010-01-02T12:40:00.000-08:00

a thoughtful nature,
beyond
a forceful (or even hopeful),
greater expectation of polarized
innocence
to be relished from
a singing child, or
a selfish mother's womb
to be
cracked inside itself,
over and over and folding itself over again
three gazes
to be reminded, and bothered when seen a second time (after 40 days)
too much alone time was never a solution,
even when desired
by archimedes,
but still he perished while traveling through the field, with instruments
seen by a man,
yet!
we still weep under blankets, still we
encourage an individualistic view of the snapping together of grommets
and the fabric to which they are bound
we are a still spring,
a powerful unit of measure
but in the open air, he was still killed
beyond his intelligence,
he was bones
bones and atoms and bones and breathing and bones

(we are)

the similarity of the unknown

2009-12-11T19:06:00.000-08:00

a recollection of future phrases,

as wavelengths of our syllables

are hungered, just

swung up, O!

to meteoric atmospheres

to eventually shiver downward,

(now intersected)

and break off

to be caught, by our bodies

in a single movement

while above us,

drums conduct

a froth of broken wires

melted, but now conducting a propelled

fetused fusion

formerly glittered, textured hammock-like

steeples

from above a neo-colonization of birds with half legs

and tiny bottled messages tied to their toes

splitting off and rushing through the place between our lungs, we say

the same

words before we speak, we

perform resembling movements, we

love in complementary ways, we

are reciprocal, parallel parts

but still, one

two,

and a Third

to be thrust into a congruent civilization, (where we both align)

but always to a

similar:unknown.

(a poem to be realistically and eventually bound together with mariana's, of the same subject matter)

2009-12-08T19:33:00.000-08:00

be rid from my dream!

out of the second time on twelfth street,

rid of the man romantically playing his guitar

on a lighted platform where i dragged h.

without payment, i understood

brought him there, knowing!

just knowing he could not, but knowing that i could!

O God,

but an illuminated, removed manhole from the road where i grew

was releasing the underworld

in a swift circling of events,

more quickly than it could be removed

or shut----

we were packing cedar doors

from buildings to darkened automobiles

and i saw j.

previously dreamed of him,

desiring to possibly

cross paths between buildings

balance between trees

to fall into a reconciliation

instead of a flickering to nothing

a father, but

a child to be left

in a basket

on twelfth street

2009-12-07T18:57:00.000-08:00

inside a banjo during july
we slept, nodded our heads silently during battle,

pleaded for a recollection or even

a collection of energies

to be held in our hands

but realizing that the breaths between words can yet be

deciphered though,

O God,

a rendering of perfectly symmetrical forms

is to be utterly incredulous, or maybe

just worthless to the incredible

weight of all the syllables

and faceted nailbeds we gather up

like tiny ships heading to,

O God,

a stormed fracture of ivory and statures

that we refused to incorporate

further into our slight movements,

such as the slowest gaze north,

an adjustment to the hem of a purple dress,

light purple,

almost translucent as particles of pasty light

pass through our bodies and extend through each woven corner

where estellia flowers are singing in tune

with the voices, as one, in the wind

through the olive grove

2009-12-06T08:21:00.001-08:00

let me slip into an unconscious slumber

and sail through a thousand eastern landscapes

where i can be nestled between pink pink petals

into a bed of lavender

where everything is pretty,

where voids exist only in fallen stars,

rather than inside my form

2009-11-28T09:48:00.000-08:00

dreamt of being held,

three times, even when moved

i dreamt of little thief children

banging on our door in brooklyn

screaming to be let in

outside, i had left the door open,

and found you

and my grandparents

drenched in sun

on the secret hill behind our home

i remembered upstairs,

where a secret passageway had held our bones

not finished now, not yet finished

2009-11-20T08:38:00.000-08:00

white and light
descending upwards,
to the place where colors turn translucent,
but still can
be seen

through an eyeglass we found between sidewalk gardens
trying to explain what we had seen to the mist,
he said nothing, but descended upon our heads to protect us from
journeying onward
to the place behind our eyelids,
where we only imagined in sleep

there had to be an intriguing perseverance,
we pleaded with the fog,
but it was silent and descended around our heads,
to stop us from proceeding.

a wretched being, we cried to each other,
how could we go on any longer?
we sat among the disappearing reeds inside the void of our planetary world.

is it not enough, to be alive and a curious one?
we cried to the smoke- it stood still for a moment but then came down on us.

we fell, put our heads to the damp floor and ceased speaking.

a tragedy, an undying homelessness,
to be underneath life, or above?
we whispered ancient psalms, but still,
the universe was quieted.

then---
a beating of drums.

"Arise! Arise!" The smoke, the fog, the mist called to us,
and dissipated throughout the atmosphere, shattered in a
thousand little diamonds.

an entire city, buzzing around us,
to be alive with tenacity and fervor, we thought,
would be a lovely interpretation within the body of life.

i inhaled, and the particles of air traveled-
through every organ, and i saw
every movement was preplanned,
for the atmosphere to decide.

2009-11-19T09:12:00.000-08:00

on tuesday, there was a captive terror beneath our wings, where the earth was made and galaxies protected by
delicate feathers
fluttered with every slight wind of time,
ruffled by the breath of mysterious crystals that made habitat inside each silvered rachis.
a tickling of your neck, each filoplume slowly rises,
as oceans are being demanded into existence still

2009-11-15T18:04:00.001-08:00

(1) please shade the wildflowers,
the wildflowers growing beneath the branches of our quieted wintertime

2009-11-14T20:48:00.001-08:00

why this wasteful inclination
of circuses underwater,
of previous acquaintances with paint drizzing down faces?
to be humbled under the weight of something far from a drop of honey, in the wilderness

why are vocabularies and the arrangement of words becoming a lightness in this world; when knitted together, i had been a conduit of stitching together syllables and beats into a single sheet of shapes, as we spoke them into a new life////,,,llp;'''''

a draft

2009-11-14T15:54:00.000-08:00

on the human inclination of immediate destruction:

the possibility of a reconciliation betwixt unsaid formulas
that we had prearranged to
have collected in our hands
a parallax between stars of the same hue,
a bright rood hangs
(above our)
heads with a tenacious language
caught in the space between our words

there exists a theory that dwindles with increasing exploratory knowledge,
diagrams of trees that we had
understood to be
a
realization before bonfires
that had eaten our sweaters (where he wouldn't stop calling my name, but would not answer once i listened)
though i notice the skies above your head,
still you weep, under the covers on your lover's bed

(a name, bringing knots)
closer and closer to discovering
the Mystery beneath our skin
eternality being thrust from our chests
a string, pulled back-- and given more string, to become further from it's end

a beginning, whispered into flame
sidewalks mourning the place where two previously walked
their footsteps permanently etched into cobblestone,
sunk down

where puddles form

2009-11-08T19:00:00.000-08:00

overheard from underwater:

"there, no,

no songs on palms---
and,
no, no inclinations to be interpreted
i didn't

said

your heart, no---
it.... mine,

summertime;

it was cold, no

shouldn't be fr--

you could bre-

(dilute)

i told you, a song between our eyes were,
a fr--

can't.

come over love,

my only r--

to c,
to share f.,
to contr. in. one mind,
an. understanding, days.
a r- u.w, to ---- home.
if you could recall, the rain coming,
you could,

rest---
a
-ea-e

a q-i---
p;;;;

tell your m-r
i am g-

to your wishes,"

she said.

2009-11-05T15:31:00.000-08:00

can a single mountaintop be annotated? but still, a shakingly horrible feeling is perpetually becoming melted between two landscapes, where a lion and a harpsichord sleep in each others arms. however, under crystalline towers (i noted), a love was born through a recently invented form of breathing; an inhale, the beckoning of a lover; an exhale, the human tendency for aggressive destruction.

2009-10-31T09:37:00.000-07:00

in the same bed
two of the same, two generations above
where i was standing,
i told you, in brooklyn

monday night,
previous planes,
handheld conversation between us,
(over oceans, not land-- to be understood)
by your facial expression
a forest in the attic
a hidden chest of lockets
buried beneath the roots of our homeostatic inclinations,
to be found.

a market of vegetables
vibrant colors, with
a sunlight bursting above our heads
spilling down our arms, to the warming black pavement
he told me to take the A back home,
take him with me, i wanted!
to only miss a poetry class, i wanted!
to be with him, instead!
to lie in the bed, to sleep, with another's heartbeat;
i wanted!

i imagined, then, a desert river
bursting through trees (which were above),
ripping through brush,
we were floating
but still,
there was space between us

2009-10-31T09:23:00.001-07:00

An étude
formulating in your mind
a black fungus
swimming between your bones,
and further we swam,
under enemy camps
jellyfish in rivers
a sting to your brother, but a campsite revisited time and time again
you were exposed, but i wanted only for myself
a similarity in forms, but
a much smaller beating of hormonal inclinations had understood
besides her brother,
a restoring of diamonds
in clouds beneath the bonfire of our beings
if i pleaded with you, would you have had it to give?
to have a complete lack of presence
would somehow be increasingly well (in my opinion--
besides a small cookie shop,
an art exhibit,
a sleeping under trees,
besides a man reciting poetry,
a tired mother's uvula,
and a slow drowning)

2009-09-30T15:19:00.000-07:00

to become
melted.

just as a marshland
is an industrial
boom of
homeward bound silks around our wrists,
so exists self-addressed envelopes
with no return addresses

constellations are overlapping,
causing brilliant images to appear-
however, our eyes are closed and we could not notice:
the seams between the stars,
discarded inks,
clay jars.

(at seven, i was a decadent soldier)
i made tea: a stable, a harness, a beating of bones, featherbeds, promise rings, sunday mornings, walking downtown, a pile knit- i am late

circa sept. 2009, re: wintertimes, seven

2009-09-25T13:03:00.000-07:00

It was our hair there, the smell of sleep-

hot cocoa fluttering up around all us as a silk garment
her voice,

a clashing of pans

Coffee beans being crushed into red, sweet earth

violins screeching

wind rustling between my knees.

There are tree branches,

A thousand suns exploding in my throat;

nails continually being dug into my side.

(Old wood, blood, liquid metal as beads of sweat

camping in each bud) My arms as pillows,

the mug warming my hands, but wool blankets are like soil-

"moss in my hands, moss in my hands, moss in my hands," I keep thinking,

but all I hear is buzzing silence

2009-09-23T20:22:00.000-07:00

a refuge of iron,
firecrackers,
humbled stones-
you told us, "raise your eyes to the north!"
a final deed to
salute, or
sacrifice, your
young to him; what
if it were i who perished?
she told me it was downtown, a memoir turned fable,
an antique shop, a harbor,
yearning to be ripped apart by You
called but i didn't answer (accidentally)
called, you did- out into the air
for me, you called!
for me, you called.
(i forgot)
how long before this continuity becomes (deceased? desire)
i possess to own a given love,
seeing you lying there
holding the same desire, but reciprocated (to love,)
so let us rejoice like steeds throughout wild,
multiply our love as bacteria rustling through blue-green waters.
wondering, "how deep a love can be restored?"
(answered without saying) a word.
beyond your glances i see a dark satisfaction,
i desire to be
as you are but am unsure where to begin. to share like you would be incredible, i am (still, as i pointed out before) unable to see past stagnant marshes behind fluttered eyelids.

2009-08-29T00:25:00.000-07:00

"one day," she replied,
"he will realize the depth, how pools of deep waters are reflective of our hearts, as a single mechanism!"

2009-08-26T19:43:00.000-07:00

each bead was moving away from it's center, but my heart felt a slight tugging back. we are two-sided, i told you, but the ink on the runway stains the livid air.
a mirror, he wrote about, a french dove, lucid dreams, a photographic memory.

you were a shortcut to the end of the earth, a ride opposite the tumultuous rivers, a rat tail wrapping its roots around our manufactured forms. our nails, crossword puzzles, and our hair, vines- tassels braided together.

a deception crept closer, german wines clouded our eyes and we felt a connection to the silence. you gave us honey, a lost song, but a place to rest. for months we waltzed together, her feathers clenched tightly, the wind demanding they return to the earth; she refused. "be continually built up, like atmospheric jungles," she said, but we slipped away.

2009-08-18T06:54:00.001-07:00

the spider veins
the ocean waves,
constantly crashing to regain their speed.
David departed to the cave,
the prison,
the forest.
He heard the heavens
rejoicing in each place.

backyard performances
whispered things to come, but
a prophet has not the same duty as a surgeon!
one cannot edit,
an artist in detail!
default, default, default-
a man you are, not a worm!
you do not crawl, you
sit upright under the
slow hum of
the spring that passes over you.
each deity is crashing down,
each a skeleton in a garden
weeping bones
cleansed arteries
food for the living
forever undead.
we can hide from the peacock feathers,
we can bury ourselves
under the arch of a footbridge,
but our bones are not silenced!

a place to hide
in a stone,
where our blood is
golden
and each word,
a profit.

astute knowledge,
abandonment.

a narcoleptic spectrum

2009-08-17T18:11:00.001-07:00

forgive me of my continual misunderstandings
my fingers
crimson
for each nickel worth saving.

above my flesh, a thousand pounds push down
squished, i am,
pummeled with the weight
of each life i could choose, while
Dionysius is suffocated
under the lace of his lover.
But boats are falling under
the riptide of casinos-
buzzing and booming
and falling- into dark, dark, dark chambers
bound to their owners,
bound to their captives,
bound to all of our feet.

i used to think, "it is all parallel,"
but no! perpendicular! intersections!
slicing and cutting and searing!
open wounds,
gauze, blood, blood, blood.
all i can see is crimson-
forgive me of my undying misinterpretations;
i am sorry.
i will
scream it-
"my eternity did not begin at my inception!"
i will repeat it
until i comprehend
we were existing before we began!

EVERLASTING HOMELESSNESS

2009-08-13T18:49:00.001-07:00

scrambling to find your paint smeared hands
unearned currency
held tightly in your fists

ridiculing your fathers,
but they founded you within deep blue shadows,
ones that actually belonged there

you found yourself there,
if understanding stands alone,
you searched and searched.
together you were sewn, however,
endlessly
unfailingly
still being knit together, even now
knotting, unknotted
knotting, unknotting
unknotted. unknotted.

ropes, inside it had cities of bronze,
and glitter batteries with fuel consistently increasing
love never ceasing
your heart, inside,
your palm continues to beat
a steady rhythm,
when i hold your hand,
when i hold your hand,
i can hear it drumming
bum bum bum
bum bum bum bum

2009-08-12T19:38:00.000-07:00

a full circle

mediocrity and sounds

you jumped in with me, but still felt

the sincerity i so longed for,

praying for-

your eyes to light up

i felt them on my back

your glittering form in the shallow, pebbled water

we thought it was dead, but alive it became and swam away

it was mutual,

you kept saying, but how could you know i was feeling the same?

so we washed the crust off the bowls,

scrubbing them with rocks

apartments in my mind

blue walls, blue walls, blue walls, i kept seeing.

the banjo still plays and i can't buy my love

any longer, so

arise, we told it-

arise!

her eyes were amber, with the sun shining on her back, the

ocean at her side.

she preferred it to engulf her but his heart was a ring of turquoise- she took it from him, put it on, paraded around as if it were a sign of his love.

"you're not sick,"

i told him

"you are beautiful," i had wanted to say it for so long,

but i read his lips like tea leaves, each crevice a memory, every hue a call for more.

in the van you told me how each note,

a bead,

moved at a consistent yet unpredictable pace away from it's center.

i didn't understand; i just thought it was pretty.

2009-08-11T14:33:00.000-07:00

a bumblebee for every step closer to the afterlife
each one buzzes in my ear
"sad, so sad," i murmured,
but the buzzing just got louder, until it split into a million pieces
piercing my heart and causing it to rupture

"forgive me!" i said,
not wanting to fall, but arms they reached towards the cosmos,
we planned it before, but the time was now.

erasures clogged up my throat
edit, edit, edit. it will not come through-

"we had a good home," he told me, "a breath for every meal, and a moon garden that became our own."

"bumblebees came and pollinated, but you know, it was never enough"

so they circled round our heads, daunting, taunting. the bed and breakfast is now closed, and the skyscrapers rusted. the sky has fallen down, so we now live above the atmosphere, but my arms are still too short to reach the open window.

2009-08-03T19:28:00.000-07:00

Resplendent women
surrounded by clouds of glitter
delved idiosyncratically
into the shallow pools of sapphire

raising knowledge
braiding into cirrus,
harvesting,
and dames
their reforestation plans
up in smoke, after bears spit fire to its words.
"We have not yet seen the Greatest land! We know not of what is being done in the shadows!"

Spinning, they each fell.
One, two, three,
until their breaths staggered,
where an oak tree
coughed nectar from it's deep throat-
labyrinths of marbled lumber.
"We've reaped our destinies long before we took a breath!"

Again, again.

Elsie failing, forgotten pixies

2009-07-31T19:23:00.000-07:00

Everlasting, unceasing whisperings
tucked under waterfalls;
Phillipe told me, "The only way to ever know what He is saying is to drown,"
which is how my mother went, vying for knowledge aforementioned and etched into ivory bones.
If I press hard enough I can feel my rhythm,
but my eternity did not begin at my inception!

raepheldae hamastalde, kleamaere, holmedstarde

Elsie sees his form through the curtain,
but I am crying under the comforters, after kissing his head.
Expectant mothers are groaning in the night
but my stomach growls each time I remember fawning.
I desired to explain, time and time again, the fear I possessed that he would not return,
I screamed, "Phillipe, come!", but remembered the ancient trimesters.
A pile of skin and bones, a pile: skin, and bones.

2009-07-23T19:52:00.000-07:00

mourn for me, mourn for me, mourn for me,
I'm not taking him away, I said
guess, guess, guess,
and I did it for a reason and I can still remember why,
my fourth sense tingles when the breeze twirls in.

2009-07-18T12:52:00.000-07:00

Red boats,
seven of them- pulled in their masts at the sound of Your footsteps
on the rocky waves, for they were being
silenced.
The men's lavender eyes turned upwards,
where the clouds were circling
round
and round
and round

Beneath the sea, the creatures came to life,
where the beads off Your wet feet
fell into the water, multiplied and
commanded them to awake.

"A reprieve! A reprieve!"
they whispered to their napping families, who,
carrying their water jugs, left their homes. The deep-sea
cottages they inhabited were now untouched, the last overcast day their minds would have to comprehend.

2009-07-13T10:31:00.000-07:00

"forget, forget, forget"

each time it beeps, i have to remind myself of life everlasting,
how far away it is from where i am,
how close it can be.
"remember me!" he screams, not uttering the words, but grabbing my hand and telling me not to leave. how can i not, i think, with expletives shouted and black and blues (which i admit, i repeatedly pushed in deeper, as to not forget him)
but the arrow continually comes, and the check is always too late.
you promised or pleaded for forever, but it shouldn't have ended this way. salty's is still open, but i'm still yearning for last year, when it was just me, and
i can't even look at that woman anymore without her reminding me again and again.

i'm trying to make it known to you that maybe i want to disappear when i'm around you, i'm not interested anymore, i'm straying away, but you keep pulling me back, taunting me with your words, my heart falling faster, deeper into some fantastical mysteryland where it's dark and all that can be heard is slow humming. so you grabbed my hand and i agreed never to leave, but what i really meant is, "i will stay with you, if you promise that it will only be me." that is what i promised to you,

holy

2009-05-25T16:16:00.001-07:00

enough already
enough enough enough enough enough enough enough enough

be here already
and please
give me it,
so i can go to the beach alone while listening to the woodlands (the band, not the form of landscape)

sleep
sleep
sleep,
but don't dream yet,
i'm so far away

the wave was glued on my wall, that famous artwork, and i pleaded with him to give me it. later, i saw it on a dress.
but smile gayer and gayer until it awakens (as you tell it, "arise! arise! from where you have been, i call arise!")

breezing through the lace curtains i heard Him whisper
again
and again
and again,
but still did not move.
in the car
in the car
in the car,
i was with her. she told me the same as He, and i said i knew. i knew it was coming.
]]....=-[ppp[[[]'//./...[[[[[
(or as johnathan safran foer would put it-)
"c"
"c"
"c"
"c"
"c"
"c"
"c"

but there's always sounds in silences

2009-05-23T08:18:00.001-07:00

"don't fall deeper", i told him,
shadows from the trees masquerading on the curtains of my room

earthfeathers (pt. 2)

2009-04-30T20:36:00.000-07:00

"show me,"
she sang,
her arms fluttering upwards to the sky
the leaves were falling but she was moving higher,

"embrace me,"
she happily screamed,
her hair looking like feathers in the wind

inside her eyes were pools,
and wells of honeycombed ice castles,
her lips were brandy wine and
and,
and
every time i glanced down at her hands,
(which were so delicate, i could never forget)
lullabies surrounded me

we were one kingdom
and one hope-
winking at a place that was to come,
a fragrant rose not yet in bloom
seeds in the forest
seeds in the packages in the grocery
seeds in my hand

as my fingers graced her champagne wings
ivory tears
staining my cheeks

she will not flutter off, however - - - -

.
.
.

(we were always here)

my mind is a still ocean
with gentle waves,
white noise-
whisperings of golden fragments and labial pronunciations
i will not disappear
or fall deeper into the sea

and i knew,
i always knew i would go with her
the threads around my wrists unraveling,
creating pulleys and weights and propelling me higher

distance stretching further beyond us
we are still one kingdom
awarded a single crown
love prevailing

i always believed her
i kiss her forehead
i still feel safe

earthfeathers

2009-04-23T21:57:00.001-07:00

"maybe follow me,"
she whispered,
her wings sparkling from the light pouring through the branches

"follow me,"
she told me,
as we spoke about galaxies on her bed

her phone keeps beeping, but she doesn't want to be without me
the messages keep getting rejected from being unopened,
moving from mobile to mobile like bouncing checks

the silence here is so heavy it feels like a void,
a vacuum i can immerse myself in,
i can't help feeling, however, as if there's others existing here too

her wings smell like fresh, sweet earth
she knows she could take me far away from here
but i don't want to be anywhere else

she will not flutter off - - - -

.
.
.

(we are still here)

my mind seems perpetually nomadic though; i wish i could stop thinking about that bearded man with the paper cup, reaching up to the sky, asking God for change...
or maybe just hoping he will disappear

the threads around my wrist will not take me up,
but maybe if i went with her,

2,504 miles
(she found it on the map)

i still believe her

i still feel safe

2009-04-22T19:50:00.000-07:00

grey gardens,
your father in those photographs,
his eyes were shimmering
"halo, halo, halo"
i keep thinking

jeremy the fox whispered in my ear
the names of ancient cities
i smiled, but the buzzing wouldn't stop

behind your architectured forms,
the streams were spinning
constellations reshuffling
under my feet

my hair becomes braided, ropes in
the wilderness
i exhale, but it's all still
glittering

2009-04-21T07:03:00.000-07:00

suitcase of fireflies
garage sales and old churches selling records
histories attach
the sun is shining, for the first time in six months
and all i want is it to be dark
to sit in my backyard
in the grass
hear the cicadas (which, i remember, mark ate when he was drunk that one time)
and be with you

i am light
i am light
i am light

bulletin poem

2009-03-23T19:24:00.000-07:00

to do:
pink, did i really just
gold soles
hello,
i can't,
i feeellll

2009-02-22T07:55:00.000-08:00

winds ran beside us
down the rabbit hole
we fell:

tumbling
seeing
three times before tomorrow,
hearts fell into deep darkness
knives stuck from your pores
faces gleam
rings crash to the ground
falling upwards
five pianos
with five angels, i thought
coming from Elysian?

prefer letters to written word

2009-02-22T07:54:00.000-08:00

archaic instruments
falling through windows
our heels click, hells remiss
wormholes twist
spines attach to miniature cities

icebergs of love
press into sparrows' breast
all sparrows, are we?
sword over us
saw feathers as we dug for worms
dirt under fingernails

silent bruise
expressionistic paintings
upon further examination, your
seeping words
melting glass
heart
(over matters, you see)
was never here

2009-01-31T21:27:00.000-08:00

library books and
emotions distanced (previously detached)
"besides you, i have just one person"
you said

why did you though?
after you
fell away
we were
(in that city),
your
form was
delicate--

[not so much delicate, maybe just fallen apart]
but you refrained from
saying
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

(i really did though)
your face turned
to ----
i wanted it to be
so different
you seemed

so different
i heard them say,
lured me past your heart
when i was only trying to find it

(you were the blueprint)

2008-12-13T15:47:00.001-08:00

I've been writing in my new little journal so much and it's very lovely.
Also, cool things have been happening to me.

2008-11-17T19:45:00.002-08:00

segmented heart,
what do you see?
lass,

floating in that sea
of g----

to your Creator.
He will mend,
sew,
breathe life
into the deep void (He will fulfill)

2008-11-17T19:45:00.001-08:00

abounding love,
conquer my understanding

2008-11-17T19:40:00.001-08:00

tiptoes,
whispers,
promise rings,
tiny beds for little princesses,
little fingers reaching towards the stars,
eyes lit up (though darkness abounds)
we should learn from them (of innocence and free spirit)

2008-11-16T19:39:00.001-08:00

but your heart will only contain the love that it is given

2008-11-16T18:03:00.001-08:00

There are places where
more thinking can be done,
but you are breaking down
concepts that you created.

Everytime you reach towards
open skies
to gain insight
that you so yearn for,
I see
your bones crack.

There are slices of eternity
in your eyes,
those freckles, I just want to
collect them- put them in a
jar, with those fireflies
that so illuminate my night

2008-11-16T17:56:00.001-08:00

My tears
are in these jars
(I present to You)

You take
and
exchange them for golden sparkles,
shimmered love,
powdered songs,
serenaded.

Awakened heart

2008-11-16T17:52:00.000-08:00

There are harmonies
between Your breaths
when You speak,
Your words,
diamonds,
flutter around the room
and fall like ashes to the floor;
the wind (Your ancient breath)
carries them to souls hidden
behind these walls.

The stones may engulf You but
Your music still resounds
in the bark of the tree,
under the rushing brook,
in the multifaceted wings of a butterfly,
a lover,
Your soul,
I still hear
the echo.

2008-11-16T00:46:00.000-08:00

there is unmistakable truth in Your words
they speak
endlessly, they
cut
so deeply, they
gnaw
at the very essence of our being.
You awaken
when everything is asleep
when conquered fortresses
ask Your name,
it is revealed
with unmistakable truth
the earth rattles
the mountains whisper
Your name
my heart deciphers
the secrets of time
untraveled

but You
still
remain a mystery

2008-11-15T22:39:00.001-08:00

don't fret anymore
there are places more distant than these
with shimmering waters
and boys who call you back

there are hearts in these shadows still
that beat with every inhaling breath
but don't bury your belongings
before you give them away

2008-11-13T20:55:00.000-08:00

tiptoe, tiptoe.

"psst,
follow me"

(
there are places more
distant than these)

2008-11-13T09:53:00.000-08:00

Where these brooks come
together, I lay- under the
sediments&dirt; I
search- through cobwebbed
books and
spiral stairs
I hear

2008-11-13T09:45:00.000-08:00

Where am I dwelling?

In this flower? Pollen makes my eyes water
the tears make the stem grow thicker
and quicker
growing closer to the sun
and I am rising closer to You.

In this open sea?
Bobbing,
falling under,
my eyes burning from the salt that surrounds me (in fact, we
all are salt)
I know you're down there
but
I cannot hold my breath long enough.

On this piece of knitted wool?
Jumping from purl to purl,
I feel the warmth of your skin but,
this garment is much too far from it's Creator.

Swimming in these colours?
Of purples, blues, and white
everything is much too vast and everything looks small (not
as small as I feel)

But
I realize,
I am dwelling in
the parts of You, I am
floating
in Your eyes, I
am
I am
in You
we are
together
;we
we are one