i miss you

i suppose the planes will shatter soon
the pieces fall, the strings all snap
the points collide
'cause the center cannot hold

good intentions make great regrets
the highways jammed with broken heroes
the castles crumble
'cause the center cannot hold

and walking by you look ahead
initials etched on empty wood
imprison me
'cause the center cannot hold

i dreamt last night of meeting you
with bright new eyes and haunting lips
but then i woke
'cause the center cannot hold

These Bridges that I Now Watch Break (my first villanelle)

These bridges that I now watch break,

from storms that overtook the night

with waves to wash the pain away,

have burnt with such regretful flame

when struck by that once wondrous light.

These bridges that I now watch break

into splintering ghosts that cry my name,

echo words of twisted spite

with waves to wash the pain away.

By my own hand alone lies blame

a saving torch, betrayed, ignites

these bridges that I now watch break.

“What do you want from me?” you say

as if to quote my desperate cries

with waves to wash the pain away.

Till emptiness, then, floods my veins

I will seek what’s lost—to fight

these bridges that I now watch break

with waves to wash the pain away.

Curiouser and Curiouser

I would drift

Stumble from this edge to that

I would twist

Between the pages of the unrequited

I would break

From deep breaths to short choking sounds

I would STOP

And what would remain

For if I disconnect and neglect the sects that intersect

The cords of tight'ning steel that bind my wrists and ankles

To interrupt the flow of blood to my waving hands

to my running feet

to my discontentment

To mute my mouth and muffle my malcontented mind

And find these binds themselves to be of blind bereavement

Search and lie of the joy they find in achievement

To die, to tie that final knot

To live, to loosen every noose

To hope, to stretch out to the edge

To love, to not come back again

If I drift

Would you let me stumble back again

If I twist

Would you turn the page and read me home

I would break

Would you sweep these pieces up within your encircling arms

I would STOP

Blissful to remain as yet so shattered, as if nothing else mattered

as if all that was and is and could be was the most absurd of insane things

six impossible things

(all before breakfast)

and every one of them looking just like you

Take it or Take it

I am forgetting the sound of justice

Love is lost from the ledge of my lips

The shadows on my fingers seem heavier somehow

And the tools of my minds industry

Rusting in the rain of discontent

And they will snap

And I will snap

And all the strings will break my eyes

fantastic

we hope so madly

or at least i do

for strings to span and not to snap

when stretched beyond understanding

When It Falls

Shut down the stars

Burn the moon and crash the sun

There's honesty in shadow when it spreads

In the dark

We are all one

Anonymity will leave our fears dead

When it all falls

Will we be there to catch you

I'll be by your side when you break

When there are no more walls

And all that's left is the truth

It'll be alright, just hold on tonight

Just hold on tonight

Behind you is a maze you've made it through

And up and ahead is the place you were hoping

Somewhere in between you no wander unseen

But with every step you should know

When it all falls

Will we be there to catch you

I'll be by your side when you break

When there are no more walls

And all that's left is the truth

It'll be alright, just hold on tonight

Just hold on tonight

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it all out

Let it fall down

Does that Dead Bird Still Sing?

Painting pictures in my memory

Of the way you used to look at me

The longing smile and the piercing belief

Eyes that used to hold a subtle smile

In the corner where they now cry

I would still hold for so much longer than a while

Kicking pebbles, flipping phones

Somehow we each ended up alone

With words I wish I did not own

Each wand'ring thought sits in between

And drags me back so stubbornly

As I try to walk by casually

Its wings once spread majestically

Its heart so full in bright morning

Does that dead bird still sing?

Of The Distant Hands

We are creatures born to reaching

Stretching in anticipation

Fervent fingers feeling the tension in the alien air

From the moment we begin

We chase the tail of time

And trace the tale

Of the distant hands

By You

Am I the shadow in the corner of your dreams
Or a long lost friend?

Am I the monster under your bed?

Am I the word that you can't pronounce

Or the curse you will not speak?

Am I simply the silence?

Am I the passing glance that you'll regret

Or the longing look?
Am I so transparent?

Am I the awkward sight after the long goodbye

Or the heartbroken fair-well?

Or am I still here?

Am I the gasping breath between strides

Or a driftwood anchor?

Am I drowning?

Dear Young Lady Liberty

A thousand ships set sail that day

From flame-raped fallen flags once flown

Now disavowed, their fathers fled

These children by the breeze now blown

Tied to the wind by cedar masts

From woods of memory too lost

Fresh water and fair food a dream

For such young sailors, tempest-tossed

The youngest of all, their captain was

Who stood no higher than a knee

But fiercer than a pirate king

And braver too, for all, was she

So when they finally saw a trace

Of distant land, horizon's call

"Land-ho!" cried she, from crow's nest high

But to cold ears, last of them all

In the Shadow of a Thought

You were my branch and I was your leaf

I held tight to you and you to me

But as I decompose, I suppose the seasons changed

Somewhere along the line

How did I miss it, when I was fallin' away

I can't forget it, the way that we used to sway

Together in the breeze, but now it seems the seasons changed

Somewhere along the line

Even in the silence, your eyes shine to me

Like diamonds, they cut right through me

Your wings lift you high so you can fly away

Feather light, shakin' off the weight of rain

You were the sun and I was condensation

You lifted me high, but life is precipitation

Fell to my own low expectations

Somewhere along the line

Even if I'm fearless, you terrify me

The closest near miss is still such a mystery

When the messenger's horse can't leave the stall

One nail, an entire empire's fall

[Black out to the point I can see stars on the horizon

The sail of my small ship would only be a shadow

Outlined in gold

Light up to the point I can see truth on the horizon

I'd just tie the sheet to my soul and sail on the breaks

Outlined in dreams]

What Now

What hand to hold

When empty hands form fists

What heart to beat

When speeding feet rush on

What voice can say

The silent cover sworn

What face to wear

To bear the mask's impression

What eyes to see

Beyond all known perception

What friend to be

When lone souls wander

Voyage of the Damned

where's your head, mate?

tell me, where's your head?

'cause i can't tell what you're thinking

when you say the say the ship ain't sinking

when i can see the crew is already dead

where're your eyes, son

tell, me, where're your eyes

'cause i can tell that you've been dazing

when your heart is still off gazing

and you have no idea where our bearing lies

where's your heart, lad?

tell me, where's your heart?

'cause i can tell that you've been yearning

but there's lessons to be learning

when the sea and shore are so far apart

In the Moment

He’s walking by with his tired eyes
Looking for some good reason to try and stay alive
Looks out over the waves as they wash the world away
But everything he blames himself for floats back around everyday

He’s tried each combination of excuses and redemption
Whatever’s been presented, even some he’s failed to mention
You listen so close but never really know what to say
After all, you’re all still just ghosts haunting his head anyway

He can’t get away, and returning now he finds the same
Kind of exclusion that these judgments have made
Say you wanna show the world hope and love with all you do
But he’s about to blow his brains out, so tell me where are you?

Is it all we can do to love sometimes
Just sit there and listen or just cry by their side
Is it all we can do to live sometimes
Just breathe in the moment, watch it pass by

Oftentimes I find, looking back I’m not the same as I was
Usually it’s because, even when facing the same old situations
I’ve been changed by the days that led me up to the occasion
Places and sensations on my heart have been emblazoned

But still the horrors of past hurts can unearth what was buried
I wish I didn’t care so much, that i could just hurry
To the point where the scars have healed and time has sealed the wounds
Instead of feeling like every move that I make is made too soon

But life improves when life lessons learned are life lessons lived
And I find that though it’s taken time I have more that I can give
And my pain has given a shoulder on which others can cry
We can lift one another up and in that way we find new life

Is it all we can do to love sometimes
Just sit there and listen or just cry by their side
Is it all we can do to live sometimes
Just breathe in the moment, watch it pass by

Gallifrey

So yes, I guess
Even in my current distress
The mess I've stole
The blood I've spilled
The dreams I've killed
It's all become too much to hold
The corpse of what I'd hoped still cold
Unfilled holes I dug to find gold
With which I could buy you a door
Through which you could find something more
Than the whole I could give
Which was never enough
Aiming to live and let you live
No matter the strength of love
But you know me
I've told you the tales of tries and fails
Doing the right thing doesn't work ever work out
When all I am is doubts, left out, and without

So what do I want from you? For you?

I can't tell you to not be with him
Though I know he'll hurt you
Couldn't possibly be worse than me, right?

I can't tell you to make time for me
You gave me more than I deserved
Or ever asked for...

I can't tell you anything
But that I love you
And I'll always be a friend

That terrible, confused
Idiot friend
Who saw the real you when no one else did
Who listened when no one else would
Who wanted better for you
But once again, I'm not good enough for myself
How could I ever be good enough for you

In the efforts we make to pursue our goals
In the efforts we make to pursue others' attentions
In the efforts we make to pursue ourselves
There are divergent paths
I hope you take the one that lets you be you
You're worth it

Chapter 1: HOUSE

The following is a newer draft of the first chapter of a novel of sorts of mine. Based partially on a dream I had while in Romania in the summer of '06 and an exercise in an acting class, it has shifted and changed with the many rewrites over the years, but here's how it starts.

The facade presented itself plainly and elegantly before me, though the structure, in truth, seemed to face the ocean on the other side. There was a clean and yet still appropriately aged look to it, evident in the slight peeling of the white paint and the way the porch may have creaked a little when I made my way cautiously to the door. From the path, I hadn’t noticed its color as much, but here it stood before me, the gate’s face, a bright and challenging sort of golden color, with a large, obnoxiously crimson “M” painted in the center. It was an annoyingly simple design for a front door, but only so in that it still held its own presumptuous self up in a surprising display of boasting.

My eyes traced the shifting wood down to a lustrous and intricate gold-colored brass orb, peeling as well, fading out in the most lovely way. I reached out and the knob began to turn, somehow warm to the touch as if, perhaps, it hadn’t been so long since my last visit. I don’t remember closing it behind me, the door I mean, but I suppose it must have been closed at some point, securely, though there were no locks.

I felt safe there. And in this new hallway that wrapped itself warmly around me, I felt so welcome. I was home, sort of.

There was a large map that followed me as I walked toward the next room. It was not a map of any place in particular, but it was old and filled with all the places I had ever been or wished I had been. On second thought, I don’t think the map was of any real place at all. The name above it read “Alterna”, which I thought then was a land I had perhaps once visited in a dream. Of that dream, however, I could remember neither content nor theme.

As I walked into what appeared to be the living room, I noticed some dust-covered photographs hanging crookedly on the wall. Within each cracking frame, a separate scene containing smiling people with frowning faces.

There was a wide window in that room that let in the warm sun and let it dance on the carpet where I soon sat down, barefoot, and began humming a tuneless melody to myself.

After a time, I rose and ventured to explore the rest of the house. There was an unremarkable emptiness to the bedroom, (not unlike the fridge in the unused kitchen) but when I made it to the last room, a study of sorts, with book-lined walls and the kind of singular, articulated lamp one only finds in such rooms, I found her. Though I had not been looking for anyone in particular, at the sight of her I knew she was my reason for being in the house.

She sat with astoundingly good posture, looking out the back window at the sea. There was a longing in her eyes and a nervousness to the way she clutched the arms of the unmoving rocking chair, her tense rigidity balancing it against its nature. She looked elegant, stoic and picturesque like she was posing for a painting. There was a discomfort on the edge of her mannerisms, yet her solidity suggested she belonged more to the house than I did.

At some point in my staring, she looked up and saw me at the doorway. There was a moment when all sounds ceased. Both quite perplexed, I stared as if to ask her name and she as if to ask why I came so late.

For the first time I noticed that there was no longer any sunlight, that the light in the room had only been the moon reflecting from the window off of her pale face. A looming cloud traversed across the face of the moon, breaking that perfect moment. A heavy darkness filled the room in that instant, yet I could still feel her eyes upon me like a cool breeze on a summer’s day, chilling sunburnt skin touched with perspiration.

I took a breath and lightning flashed. In that half-second, she had moved, ghost-like, across the room and was standing right in front of me, a piercing gaze shooting from her eyes. Then, with the crack of thunder like a dull, aching thud, and the returning darkness, she was gone. I tried to flick the switch on the wall, but the power must’ve been out, so I walked over to the window, taking note of the sea’s waves rising above the cliff in the storm. I shut it just as the spray hit the glass and then turned to the still unmoved rocking chair. Placing my hand upon its back, I pushed it gently. The sudden creaking noise made me jump back and I hit my hand hard against the wall. It hurt, but only for an instant.

Everything in that house felt suddenly older, cold and fading like an early morning fog. In the shifting light my hands looked ghostly and translucent. I too, it seemed, would fade with the dawn.

Just then, I heard voices coming from the kitchen and left the room with a permanence to my steps. The ceiling light was on, and there was a crowd of people standing below in the passageway blocking my path and my sight. Some time has passed, I felt, but how much time I did not know. The group’s voices blurred into hushed conversation as I stepped closer, whispers loud enough to hear yet too secretive and implicating to understand.

Every eye glanced and glared as I traced a shaky path through the group. They cleared away, avoiding even the slightest touch as I walked into the kitchen, which now seemed much smaller than before.

By the counter she stood, the girl from before. Head down, sea-salt storm air glided through the curtains behind her and danced with her hair as it fell across her face. Though she was still young, she looked as though she carried the burden of many hard years. The boisterous whispering behind me hushed itself. Her eyes lifted just a little, a glint of harsh emotion behind the shadow of fallen bangs.

My breath caught as our eyes met. She was unlike any other girl I had ever known, yet she seemed so familiar, as if anything I had ever seen as beautiful about any other girl was nothing compared to just one tenth of her. She was hauntingly dreamlike but more real than anything in any dream, more real than anything in the house or outside the house or anything. My heart was tied inexplicably to hers, I felt it, I knew it right then in that moment. Utter and inescapable infatuation. I stood there, captivated, breathless, intoxicated at the woman of my dreams. There were no words, but my mouth fell open anyway as if to speak.

That’s when I finally noticed. The most astonishingly beautiful girl I had ever seen, the one who had, in an instant, stolen my whole heart, was standing before me crying her eyes out. In between choking gasps, her perfect eyes blinked at gushing streams of tears. The sound of the storm outside grew louder, but her sobs beat above it all.

“How could you?” she pleaded, her voice an exquisite diamond etching each and every word into my breaking heart, “Why did you do this to me?”

I didn’t know what to say, what was happening, or how to stop it, but as she continued she seemed to die a little with each word, her soft skin losing all color, turning a sickly pale.

“You led me on, made me trust you, and then just let me down. You let us all down, but me the most. And you know it.”
I wracked my brain for memories of my betrayal but it seemed as if I had taken the place of someone else, without any leftover pieces of the crime except for the pain of guilt thrust upon me in my sorrow for this dear one’s suffering. As she continued, she began to rip at herself, tearing off chunks of her long, dark hair at first and then scraping at her skin till she bled openly. With every second I tried to reach her, but my feet seemed glued to the ground where I stood, helpless.

She screamed, “You monster! You villain! You’ve broken my heart over and over a thousand times, taking it from me when it wasn’t yours to have, stealing the innocence of my heart and soul with your jokes and games and teasing and compliments and...and promises. All your promises. You’ve shattered me, made me an object...a prize! Then, then you got bored with me, didn’t you? You had better things to do on your own.

“You can’t trust anyone at all, can you? You were too scared.” She gasped, “We were both scared, okay? But this...” She broke off, the distance stretching out between us. I reached my hand out but to no avail. There was so much blood, from her arms, her chest, even her eyes bled with the tears, little crimson rivers. “Why,” she said, “just why?”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to say something, to do something, to apologize, to hold her and wipe away her tears, to do something, anything. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was stuck in place by a force much stronger than my will.

I heard the group behind me renew their whispering, hateful gossip burning up the back of my neck. I remembered then that I had recognized them from the pictures in the living room, old friends, their friendship now lost in time. All this, my fault, I thought.

She grabbed a dark cloak from the floor and wrapped it around herself, wiping her eyes with its sleeve. Not looking up, she took a sip of water from a glass on the counter, then choked, hard, a bit of blood shooting out and hitting me in the eye. I scratched at it, then took a step toward her, but a hand grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. She walked out the back door, quiet as a phantom, the one who had grabbed me moving past me and following her out. I watched them go, pixelated through the screen door. She walked like a shadow, tangled up in the curtains of rain, and he, though almost three times her size, followed as a shadow, meekly behind her. She was so far off and yet only a few footsteps away, really, though ever retreating.

I could see the waves crashing across the cliff-face behind her, the breakers rising higher than her head as she approached the edge. I shoved off any last hesitation and the reaching hands of those beside me and ran to the door. Flinging it open, I sprinted after her, my hand outstretched in desperation. My feet slipped in the mud, and I crashed landed at full speed, head-on into the ground. My body suddenly felt so weak, powerless, the rain growing heavier on my back. Slowly, I pushed myself up and ran a shaking arm across my mud-covered face. I cried out to her, but my voice was so muffled by the storm that even I couldn’t make out my words. My voice was weak, broken, and alien. I lie there in the mud, struggling to move as if, with a thousand tiny fingers, it crawled up my limbs and pulled at me, holding me down.

She didn’t even turn around. She just kept moving, floating away, as if she’d suddenly just drop right off the edge of the cliff. She turned to her tall companion, who had begun to wrap her wounds in bandages as they walked, and she motioned for him to stop, but he just kept wrapping tighter and tighter till she collapsed into his arms. Anger flared up within me. How dare he strangle her like that. I grasped around and found a small stone. Even in my great weakness, my rage against the giant gave me strength, and I hurled the stone at his head. Somehow the stone not only picked up speed but grew in size as it flew, striking the giant across the face and scraping off a chunk of flesh. He stood, dumbstruck for a moment, then tumbled backward, right off the cliff, my love in his arms.

Suddenly strong enough to stand, I ran forward and gazed over the edge. They were both gone, swallowed by the waves.

The storm raged a bit longer but soon calmed, and as the tide receded, memories began to flood my brain of the times she and I had spent together. We had been the best of friends in our youth and as we grew, so did our love. So many wonderful days and nights of hopes and dreams and complete joy. We promised our hearts to one another on the night of her eighteenth birthday when... something terrible happened. But what was it? Everything in my memory seemed to stop there as if severed from my mind. All I knew was that it had something to do with the house. The storm had passed and a red sun slowly rose over the far horizon.

I could feel the flames rising within my very being. The tips of my fingers felt electric, and my heart beat fast as flashes of heat touched my forehead. Crimson beams of morning glimmered off my shaking hands as lifted them to beat against the walls of that accursed house.

The Princess became The Hero, The Hero became The Villain, The Villain became the Savior, and Happy Endings are Condescending

There is an aching in my bones
To reach across the waters
Hold the foreign hand
Share one warm moment

But time and choices made
Have you lost all hope in me
Sitting with strangers/friends
The other side of the room/world

I have made my bed of nails
And now I, in shudders, lie
Because you always saw the best in me
Without you, I pull on steel blankets

Undertow

As I beat this broken branch against the ocean

Looking for an escape that might finally last the night

Lost lines on driftwood notions fade to softly singing sounds of seascapes past

In time to set out solely for a shore that would not drown me with the tide

Still beside me all the way, the ever widening coastline

Of thee do I now declare the pillaging of my mind

Not but in time with the songs of sorrowful sailors and their dead

Keep with me as I step the wrecks of timeless ghosts and visions

Imparting no great wisdom but the song of one man, marked

Left to wander aimless among the haunted ships of demon lore

Littered with the corpses of old kings and pauper's hearts

Endeavor with me now to not just count the dead, but mourn them

Dreaming now, as they do, of the future where they have yet to die

Memorize my loving tone, o'er high flown masts and waves of gold

Endure it will, though I am lost, and all my treasure sold

Some Small, Great Hope

Changing my actions so as to change my circumstances, I can perhaps make the circumstances like my dreams. Then when whatever "someday" is comes around, maybe I'll find that by making my dreams a reality on my way to them, I will be a bit more ready for them when they inevitably still catch me by surprise. But I think that perhaps that's exactly the sort of behavior fit for that faraway land of hopes and heartache. Because I don't know for certain if there will be a light at the end of this tunnel when I come to it, but I do certainly suspect that it is just the sort of place in which one could light a very great fire no matter the darkness. And so that's just what I'm doing now, lighting these fires. In my own small way, I'm practicing eternity while I still live. In that way, there's a chance I can make a difference, light a fire, that's bigger than one life. Then what is death, worry, pain, fear? If you've already live so fully, then you've already lived forever. These passing doubts and hindrances can't possibly matter to someone who is passionately sold out to something that no longer plays by those rules. It's a small hope that I have, but it's all I have and therefore is also a great hope.

______________________________________________

"But let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I'll probably never fully understand. We're not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it's over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we'll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:

Death swallowed by triumphant Life!

Who got the last word, oh, Death?

Oh, Death, who's afraid of you now?

It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!"
(1 Cor. 15:51-57 MSG)

A Better Way Out

Face your fears, turn the lights out
I wanna know if you can live without
The constant reminder that
There’s so much you would take back
Make your choices and choose them well
You’ve been looking for heaven while stumbling through hell
Why don’t you try the not-so-beaten track
You’ll be on your way back

You’ve been livin’ like you’re hangin’ off the edge of a cliff
Wonderin’ if you’d be missed if you let go of it
When you can’t see how much you have to give
Lookin’ for a reason to live
You’ve been hurtin’ from the words that cut you just like knife
And I would bet that your regrets still keep up at night
I know your heads still filled with doubts
But there’s a better way out than this

As you wonder what they’re thinking when everybody stares
Yeah, there’s a light that illumines and a light that glares
And recently, with all the things they’ve been saying, you can’t see your way and
The words that she has written have you torn up inside
So you run the same direction that almost killed you last time
But it doesn’t have to be that way, no, these chains can break
We’ll watch them break

You walk down by the water
You walk down by the water, but you’re not alone
I’ll walk with you, I’ll walk with you, we’re goin’ home
Yeah, you can call me up whenever
We can make it through together, you’re not alone
I’ll walk with you, I’ll walk with you, we’re goin’ home

Deeply Into Thoughts of You

Everywhere I go, the memories follow strangely behind

Catching up with me on the edge of each experience

The pieces filling up the space

As I slowly disappear once again

Deeply into thoughts of you

I've taken many paths away

Each footstep a flag blown by stormy winds

Every tree branch in my way like your soft hands

Ghostly breaths that for a moment hold me

Sometimes scratching me with their twisting boughs

Deeply into thoughts of you

Hanging here, out of balance

I stare down at the cuts on my hand

Thinking of where I fell so hard

Cherishing the scars that still remain

Squeezing out the last bits of gravel and earth

Then burying my tear-stained face

Deeply into thoughts of you

Wisdom (second draft)

A good heart, a good head, he said

Are the cobblestones that lead to wisdom's door

But even if I become good enough to reach it

There is a certain apprehension in knocking upon that door

For I know I cannot enter

And sit with wisdom awhile

As the scholars do

Only to find that wisdom bores of their company

No, I do not seek wisdom's table

Nor wisdom's hand

To woo and court wisdom

Until wisdom is with me wed

And wisdom's dowry some status

For that is an ugly and certain annulment

No, wisdom is my better, I know

But even if I must drag wisdom

From wisdom's doorway across the stones of a good head and heart

Far beyond all that is good

To the place where truth itself lies bleeding in the streets

There will I watch as wisdom washes the wounds

And comments softly

Saying something I’m not yet quite ready to hear

Then will I be wisdom's assistant

Running for water or handing wisdom the bandages when asked,

Changing bedpans and taking the blood-pressure of wisdom's patients

Sitting by the bedside of those that wisdom just could not save

As they pass with wisdom's own words on their lips

A benediction in homage of the one who at first came with such effort

But then upon seeing the need, offered all wisdom could give

Knowing that sometimes you must do everything to save

And sometimes you must let what is dead be dead

For there are so many with good intentions

But wisdom lies somewhere apart from all that

Most often found in between somewhere

Picking up the pieces of truth

As it lies beaten, bruised, and bloody

Upon streets of cobblestone and question marks

Unfinished thoughts we stopped thinking

So we could listen a little closer

kitchen utensils

Had a dream once
Thought it might come true
It did
It came true so much I realized
It was a nightmare

Carrot Stick Carousel

Hollow, they've drained the shadows of meaning
And blamed my curse on the ceiling
Walls meeting
Receding
No stars
Just moon and clouds
The lights on the water ignored
Perpetual motion machines
Driven by lusts and fears
Mostly fears
Hold this moment
I know from personal experience
It won't last

happy birthday

There's an echo on the ocean
Words I cannot say or even formulate
The waves that drove me to these mountains
The cliffs that I will soon meet face to face

There's a whisper on the wind, tonight
But I dare not dream of you
The land I left so long ago
Or if it now dreams, too

There's a hollow sense of wonder
As every day's end slips to dust
Of what I hope, and what I dread
And what I am and ought and must

There's a brightness, still, to your eyes
That I'm not sure even you see
But my foolish heart's still hoping
Some of that light might shine for me

Flight

Last time i flew from here
My wings were made of glass
And shattered upon the landing

I've tried to fly on borrowed wings
But can never go beyond the rope
That attaches them to their owner

Also, wings made of my own flesh
I still wear the scars
From when they were ripped off

So perhaps next I will use wings
Made of naught but will
And so if I land, it will be my own fault

Oh Prisoner

Whispered words not said but seen
By eyes that have taken over me
Passing thoughts from the shadows where I fell

It's not what I want much that's ever mattered
And I don't want much, besides, but to be scattered
Across the sands of time like bits of broken shell

Your hand in mine, the far off dream
The comfort there and somewhere in between
This tension is a place far too conspicuous for my taste

So simplicity come take a hold
If I could offer up even my soul
I'd give every little bit just so your efforts don't go to waste

Wisdom

There are those who live

In blissful ignorance

And those who know

And yet somehow stay blissful

The first live a lie

And (I think) the second are a lie

For wisdom lies somewhere apart

And the weight between is murder

Neither blissful nor ignorant

Too knowledgeable to be blissful

But not knowledgeable enough

To be wise

A good heart, a good head, he said

Are the cobblestones to wisdom's door

But even if I become good enough to reach it

There is fear in knocking on that door

For I know I cannot enter

And sit with wisdom awhile

As the scholars do

Only to find that wisdom bores of their company

No, I do not seek wisdom's table

Nor wisdom's hand

To woo and court wisdom

Until wisdom is with me wed

And wisdom's dowry some status

For that is an ugly and certain annulment

No, wisdom is my better, I know

But even if I must drag wisdom

From wisdom's doorway across the stones of good heart and head

Far beyond all good to the place where truth lies bleeding

There will I watch as wisdom washes the wounds

And comments softly, saying...well, something only wisdom would say

Running for water or handing wisdom the bandages when asked,

I will be wisdom's assistant

Changing bedpans and taking the blood-pressure of wisdom's patients

Surely sitting by the bedside of those that wisdom could not save

As they pass with wisdom's own words on their lips

A benediction in homage of the one who at first came begrudgingly

But then upon seeing the need, offered all wisdom could give

Knowing that sometimes you must do everything to save

And sometimes you must let what is dead be dead

For there are those who live

In blissful ignorance

And those who know

And yet somehow stay blissful

The first live a lie

And the second are a lie

For wisdom lies somewhere apart

And the weight between is murder

At this Point, I'm Certifiable

Rainy nights, I

Have watched the world

Spinning out of control

And I am losing myself

I ask why

Can I still feel you so deep inside

Of me, tonight

I've lost my grip

Off this ledge I'll slip and fall

And carry it all

Far away, I could still feel you right next to me

In the silence, I still heard you speak

When I wake, I dream even more than when I am asleep

Because the night is so empty without you

When even I can become a stranger too

Desperate calls against the walls I built for my protection

Cannon balls, like canons fall upon ears that roundly listen

For the break of day, at the setting sun

When you and I again are one

But till then I will burn this flag of peace

In me

They March Toward Our Doors With Gilded Hands, Not to Knock but to Pound

It is an age not of apathy
But of the appearance of apathy
We wear that mask because we care so much
About changing this world for the better
Yet have been sent to the office for questioning the teacher
And sent to our rooms for questioning the parent
Who tells us very plainly that our despair is just a phase
And we'll soon grow out of trying to sympathize

It is an age not of consumerism
So much as dissatisfaction
We grab and tug and steal and build up and hoard
Not because of the objects themselves
But because somewhere along the line
"Sharing is caring"
Became: protect what's yours
And be responsible enough to know how to gain it
Not to use it well
But to be used by it
So you don't have to find out
Things could be better
Or that they're actually much worse

There is a way to do things, you see
And happy people do things a certain, or so I've been told
Though I'm not sure I've ever met a happy person
And if I have, I really don't think they were doing things that way, anyway
And honestly, if happiness means playing the game
Forgetting the point
And forgetting that I have a point
Then why would I want to be happy

But it's not an age of love
Yet.

If My Hands

If my hands
Now mean nothing to you
But passing dust
And a scent upon the breeze
Know that
Though they were once too harsh
Though they were once untrusting
Though they were once so failing
Still they reach out
To catch your fall

But I know
I cannot catch your fall
For I too am falling
I've known my fate all along
And all I've done
Is drag you down with me
But as we fall
Still they reach out
To hold yours in the descent

And I know
I caused the descent
Created the chasm
Which now stands as a fault line,
A schism of the earth
And our Pangea begins to fit the times
Shifting along artificial boundaries
Villages rising to war as nations
Then empires
Never my desire or intent
But the reality
Still they reach out
To do the impossible

But they are just hands
And shaking as always
Their blood red guilt speaks
And it alone has any precedent
But for hope

Never Learned to Pick Locks in High School, But Majored in Slamming Doors in College

And now it seems
I've become the monster from my dreams
I've become what I never wanted to be
I've become your worst enemy
I am so very sorry

And this too
Reminds me of you
This empty space
Within which I am consumed
By the guilt of my actions
My greatest shame
My misguided reactions
I am the only one to blame
I am the only one to blame

Tell me, please, what you're thinking
As I ramble of my fears
My hopes now ever sinking
In the waves of your tears

And now it falls
That am captive inside my own prison’s walls
That I wait so diligently for the calls
I know will never come

And this too
Reminds me of you
The starry night
Falling to the gloom too soon
Hands that will not hold themselves

Tell me, please, what you're thinking
As I ramble of my fears
My hopes now ever sinking
In the waves of your tears

For the First Time (A Year Ago)

They have this breakfast

In a place of tradition

A place of my past

They try to entice you

To fit into a box

And I knew the boxes that would call to me

How'd they all say they knew me

Or my parents

Remembering a childhood I knew didn't exist

But still smiled uneasily

Shaking hands with shaking hands

Looking for some place to sit

I found a place to munch on bits of fruit

Nervous ticks and wary glances

As I sat, steadily silent in the temple of former refuge

It became internal torture

Breath racing, heart cacophonous

And there you sat, somehow beside me

Serene and smiling

You knew what hid behind the curtains

You, like I, had seen the charade

But we wore our robes and scars differently

Though as you spoke, it was clear

We had more in common

Than I, at first,

Could tell

Crumbling stone, a lone heretic

In the halls of the heralded holy

Their judging eyes and condescension

Circled around me

A calf among the golden pride

Their smiles sharpened for the occasion

So when the speaker got up

To offer positions within the status-quo

You must have noticed that strange fear

From the corner of my eye to yours

And beneath the white, plastic tablecloth,

So only we would know,

You held my hand

Silent, unassuming

And everything I

Needed to know

I was not alone

Baggages and Parcel Paper

I've brought more than enough in jars and bags

Boxes and barrels and tubs and basins

Containers of every size and shape

With a true hoarder's motivations

I've brought more than enough because you asked me to

And more than enough that you never

I brought it all to the place where it all lined up

Till a very thin line was severed

I've brought more than enough that was never mine

But in the end it was all left to me

And inside of each one cries an insufficient voice,

"If it's your fault, then please set us free!"

I've brought more than enough out of spite for myself

And certainly more than I planned

I thought, I think, that you brought some too

But not now with how supply exceeds demand

I've brought more than enough and am drowning in it

As you walk farther and farther from shore

I am suffocating underneath all I've been bringing

And yet still I find myself bringing more

Back Again

Granted...

But still...

It's just...

What if...

I...

>sigh<

...yeah.

From Across a Bleeding Room

In the glimmer of light

I was reminded to wake

Thinking it had been but some passing dream

Till that light seemed to rise

If not reflect, than emanate

Off the perfection of locks which flowed oft like a stream

Shining too glorious for sight

I saw the sudden thought

Run to my mind that you were in fact so real

That the surrealist painting of night

Which, when heaven had me bought,

Still to this day keeps you in my attention's fields

And there the shards of dreaming lay

Twisting upon the mortal grass

Felled like collared dogs run to their length of rope

But how I pulled them tight that day

With chains round made of glass

For I was no great victor in my conquering of hope