everything calcifies.

Anything gets walked on more..

everything erodes more quickly; calcifies.

Suburbs an expanse. There are more lawns here and in winter, they toil in the day. You cannot sleep in. 

Living simply is not the answer.

You have the whole day ahead of you so stop living like you're getting ready for bed. You have things to do but you're living a cycle. 

Anticipate their needs. Take care of them. 

Be taken care of. 

Be open, or if you cannot be open, be good. 

Hasn't been socialized properly.

Still a good boy; Devoted.

Put it on his headstone. Someone will laugh. 

smoothing the edges

Stumble table to table

and celebrate today,

remember and forget

wanting only to be wanted

so we can

bring the self fully into this moment,

make every action turn effortless and smooth

and all be better for it. 

Stand with me and engage. 

Without,

searching won't find 

what idol has been crafted 

from memories, a feeling, a song, 

the shape of a man,

one has become a private diety in my mind,

roughnesses all tumbled away.

path of desire

I thought that we were going to be together forever, so I made myself a fool.

This is what youth is for, so I stayed young for too long.

Impatience impedes me, slips, and so I am changed. 

Building. Not re-building; rejoined with kith and with kin. 

I am joyfilled and heartbroken with swooning nostalgia kissing my heart. 

Smiling. 

I still have inside me, this fire and I have the path of desire. 

orange blossoms

We've been to all of the places that oranges grow. 

Between us, we've seen all there is to share.

I wish to be good to you but I am here and I am gone.

A discipline that does not extend your reach doesn't serve you. Get lanky. Become a wolf. Become a wild frond.

she drinks shadows

She drinks shadows in the long lost land. 

Placed in regions that are old are new again,

she is born a new soul into her own life. 

If she bends for you, know that it is of her own accord. Loyal and bashful in the old ways, she holds the door open as she walks out.

Lightning has been striking here. Beaks and talons follow to its source. 

Crushing it. 

time to look

I liked to think that at the very core of our being, every one wants to be good; that every one wants that feeling that is sincere.
I liked to think that we are thoughtful and clever and unafraid of giving the world what we have to offer.
I wanted to talk like a story teller;
I wanted to speak like a saint,
convinced of this much: that everyone is writing their own characters and that
even if it doesn't, I must live as though every word of my story will eventually touch down.
Would that kith be your knowers-of-truth and kin, beholders of beauty.
Would that it were so:
you want to be the one who was known before all that was left of them was their words, worth the remembering,
because you took the care to be the way you wished to be remembered,
and unashamed even when misguided,
celebrated for your genuine self.
Focus your energy
do know tho-
you only know
what you'll see
when you take
the time to look.
Live in the landscape.

Will there still be cicadas?

do not try

do not go back

or gather stones

or take up slack

not to remember

when

dropping pebbles into gutters

is all the wrong was dealt.

To think on it

I hang out your window,

and when the long shadows have reached the shore,

find myself exploring paths traced with only a gaze,

that direction opposite one's feet.

It may go on like this.
Adventures robbed with

No explanations to questions never asked,

anything to halt that sinking.

August finds me a mermaid, 

surviving

on cicadas and sunlight.
on cicadas and sunlight.

From faraway

My memories of you are all yellow.
I'm rolling upright and open,
passing between structures
and under canopies,
and through the swimming sunlight
guided by a gravity of recollection,
every one a new mix of the old same
everything here is new and the other things all resurface in another place,
comfortable but fresh
different and unexplored.
Movements newly golden, easy as breath.
I feel the gaze of your thoughts on me;
I don't want to disappoint.

     
Yours was an undying ember growing into a lake
one could surely swim the depths of.
You would want them, too.
The licking waves that pull at the shore
taste all the hunger of a slow burn.
Time spent in the minds of others is your seated throne.
For all my wanting,
my strength could not match your power.
Stop checking your watch.
Sit. Draw me in again.

lilies of the valley

Coals pop; bits crackle when the morning fog rolls in
and you tug on that golden thread once more.
Past the thicket and back through the marsh,
across the prairies you planted and the trails you cleared,
the slack is drawn in, your first knot tightens and thrums a response,
right over your hollow and across your bow,
a deep resonating bass echoes in your chamber and amplifies unnumbered times.
When your lungs fly out of you like an owlet trying for wind
and you still can't find the way to draw enough into them
and your belly is heavy with anticipation,
know that there is nothing you can anticipate.
You need only stand tall,
twist among the birch and keep the arrow steady;
be with it in it's moment of flight,
splicing atoms, hurtling through the void.
Live in that moment and push at it from all sides,
expanding it continuously.

8:07

Porch lights flicker on.

By 8:16 a pleasant lull hits and sustains for about four minutes before it builds on cicadas and cotton candy and a jungle in the distance that goes on for three feet.
I know this without having to go there
because I've climbed down into it
and now it's happening around me.

The cicadas grow harsh and the colors fade from the sky.
I'd almost never believe they were there at all

but that they all leave and I'm cold in this heat.

Wonder if why is a question of effect, or affect.

Think that it's one but it's the other and learn not to ask it.

Your questions say more about the asker

when why is a question of intent.

And love songs can only be for those you've yet to meet or those you've left behind

when every moment I'm a different me.

This scene is of the people like molecules, rising as vapor, falling, compressing, igniting, transforming; even popping across every distance.

The setting is in the huddling snowdrops and slush or the other, the clouds..

The cicadas grow harsh and I realize I've lost count of them all

and never heard them stop.

Once they really do, I find they've outlasted time

and I believe that it will never be a concern of mine.

Transition out of being a molecule.

Be a vibration and exude the 

b e   c a u s e.

12:50

Exactly the when that this sign was intended for,
I ignore the latch
And it catches exactly the way it never does in the daytime.
Now I am that guy.

The stream that runs through is a river in your own scope.
And a conversation that you have with nobody

is so many things

given up to the cosmos

but unshared.

This is one right moment to get it down, if that nobody is my confidant and shadow, extra eyes and ears and guide, intuition and keeper of beans, and names, and queen of my own arcane.
Benevolence allows for a night's rest first.
Mediocrity allows that intention to be forgotten.
Focus reminds me not to come and go with my intention, but to act as I see what must be done.
The hour calls for immediacy or rest, and I am swept into the rush of water swelling through me.
The rock that I am only bakes in the sun and my own constant nagging is what makes the canyons that only my angel could pull me out of,
just to see
that my rock is asphalt
and the canyons a pothole,

all the rest a puddle..
This measured reassurance is defeating and humbling in equal space.
She whispers into you the sounds of your own waterways, brooks of uncertain proportions, babbling of a child
to be be be a bae
Be be be be bae
Bae bae bae
Be bae be bae
Bae be being bae
So sincerely, you can't not promise that you will
Be be be a bae
Be a bae be.
Be bae bae be
Unchain you from yourself
Be there in the river and not under it,
Be bae
And be the guide
And the keeper and the basket and the beans
Then be beams and the bridge
And be be be,
Bae
be all things bae.
But first you have to be

pervasively.

I couldn't seem to reach the cosmos but I dreamed of the place where night would finally fall.
Every stitch of secret mythos would melt from my marrow then and seep into the earth. Should daylight come again, the totem would be full and alive, and teeming with the things I'd never quite believe that I'd heard or seen.
I came true today.

Kind j

This one sinks into the night. Dependable as ever, you can count on exactly this much.
He does not give me hope.

keep you talking,
leave you hanging
onto a feeling.
Just that of anticipation,
and a mutual admiration.
Simple pleasure, that.
This feels so familiar
that now it's comfortable.

To me, his name is synonymous with solitude.

If you would aim to leave me in baited breath,
he does it better.

Humanity gives me hope.
I want only that such type.

Not willing to take part,
he is torn away rather than inserted into my life.
Were he to come and go with his intentions,
I would be plagued.

Sweet relief, the space he leaves.

But every breeze past your lips gives me hope.
While you come and go with your intentions
the air rises, the smoke dissipates, and even the ashes float on.

His is a simple graceless honesty, and I am not one for great excess. I'll never need another one like this.

Choose to be alive in this moment.
Bring the wild fire into your home.
Clean your mind for some time.
Focus on what must be done.
Insert yourself into the life of what you love.
Seek possibilities with an active patience.
Do what you must, with passion above all else.
Accept the gift of your self.
Share all that you are. Keep some for yourself.
To be a friend, do not come and go with your intentions.
And do not tolerate it from others.
All this time spent can be so much better.
Combat your bitterness with support.
Hope is a constant conversation. It can take as much as it gives. Don't let it exhaust you.

Fire building

You aren't good enough as you are,
  and neither is the person you want to become.

It is only in the striving that you are so much greater. A beautiful human being.

Doubt and proof create the friction, what sets in motion that which builds your worth. And that which sets you in motion sparks the roaring fire within you.

wild blue violets forever

When your spine is a rubberband and your lungs only know sighs
and the city is a jungle full of memories overgrown and lived in;
If despite the cacophony of people and information drumming on your door
and the onslaught on all focus and attention, you're more alone by the hour,
don't despair.
No matter the number of places you move, you'll never find home
if you don't realize you're already there.
You have everything you could ever need.
The real reason your heart is so busted and broken
is that
so many roots have already taken hold.
Take some time to tend the garden.

I was listening for the whirr of a centrifuge as the people I passed felt like a roulette.

There is no way to know the life you want to lead before you've lived it.

I want to spend time around people like you.

The best I could wish for is that your memories of me are a smooth respite in your recollection of this world.

come as you are

There's nothing cosmic about this: Learning to be comfortable with one's self, I assume, is a natural progression. In some ways I feel like I was on a fast track, and in other ways, a late bloomer. Non-bloomer really. It is not important.

One of the most influential men in my life gave me a job interview,  knowing that I'd be arriving rough in wrinkled party clothes from the night before.  "That doesn't matter. Come as you are."

I took that advice and generally rolled with it for the rest of my life. 

Nearly three years passed.

And then

"It happened."

A letter in which I detail to my dearest friend, the wanderings which led me to destroy my phone and rest my sickness off on her futon. I won't detail the contents- not that it's private, but I don't think it can perfectly be duplicated.
Titling a letter in this manner is the first thing that happened, a writing device which I've long had a yearning to use.
The realization that I had (if momentarily) become an orphan of technology is the next.
Furthermore, she called me a writer once she had read it- something I explicitly asked her not to let me become (I know I said I wouldn't detail the contents, but that was just one thing). If it's true, I guess it's something I should just learn to live with. 
In the interest of taking very good care of myself (not that I always do), I have an affinity for nice things and appreciate quality and attention to detail. I mostly appreciate these attributes in the people around me. To that end, I am trying to do what I can to be the glue, and encourage people in my life to follow their hearts and help them to prosper.
I'm not perfect, but it's worth noting that recent happenings have led me to learning less about my potential and career path, and more about the nature of myself. There is very little that we can plan for, and every aspect of our lives is a borrowed experience. Considering this fully will completely change one's priorities.

We had a great run. I'm going to take these experiences with me everywhere. 

From one hangover interview to the next, and everything in between.