journey
November 17, 2014 § 1 Comment
I have so many
beginnings, too many to
count, but not an end
in sight
Reminder
November 13, 2014 § Leave a comment
Sometimes I feel the weight of everything directly upon me,
but I mean, in a good way.
Not in a way that suppresses or brings anxiety aloft.
In a way that frees.
When I’m driving at night and the streets are full of cars
but everyone is reduced to two lights
and I ask myself where I’m truly going
and the stars form a welcome blanket overhead
guiding me and everyone, all of our lights,
along our individual journeys, I feel it.
And it suddenly becomes so apparent
that our individual journeys
are so far from that.
The depth of this huge, gigantic world rests
upon all of us, peacefully and meaningfully.
It grasps onto our shoulders,
and urges us not to forget that it’s there.
enough
November 11, 2014 § 2 Comments
there are so many
wishes I need to realize
is there enough time
spoken word at the uptown arts bar
October 24, 2014 § 2 Comments
they stood beneath the spotlight
underneath the dancing dust
that drifted and fell in lazy patterns
and clung to their lashes like snow, yet they stared ahead
they stood beneath that heavy light
and took hazy swirls of smoke
upon their shoulders, they stood
so serenely
beneath the light that blinded
them from the crowd
they stood and spoke
in an effortless tongue that felt
and fell upon surrounding ears
and I could never see
myself in them. They were another species,
I, just a detached observer
taking in a spectacle,
like animals at the zoo.
they stood beneath the spotlight
that cast so much blinding light
onto every inch of who they were
and they couldn’t hide
behind the rusted microphone stand
and when they spoke
they were anything but caged
they were so
very, very free
our motion
October 15, 2014 § Leave a comment
like the gentle cracks on the walls
of my one hundred year home,
stillness won’t stop age.
it may bring years of observation
but what is observation
without subsequent
conversation
exploration
jubilation
depth
October 14, 2014 § 1 Comment
swimming
through shallow
pools,
it’s easy to get stuck,
perhaps your head
is at the surface
and you’re breathing,
like everyone else is,
but you’re
still.
diving
into open
waters, perhaps
it’s impossible
to tread or float or breathe
submerged in depths
you’ve never seen,
you may be all alone,
but at least you’re
moving.
the omniscient sound
July 15, 2014 § 1 Comment
it’s the song for the wandering man
lost somewhere south of France
for the one who believes in madness
and lives in a starlit trance
it’s the song for those who can’t decide
if time is worth the wait
it’s for those who live in the valley
to hide from mountains of hate
it’s the song for those who chase
but can never reach the edge
the song about that forgotten match
flicked from the 8th story ledge
it’s the song that was sung by odysseus
as he sailed the immortal sea
the one that was sung by the crowds
as they lifted the gates and ran free
be it heroes or dreamers, those who fly
and the ones who have simply joined hands
it’s a song for those who can see eternity
in carvings in the sand
it’s the song that reminds us that even though
we stand dispersed beneath our sun
there’s a force that tethers us all to its words
and has turned our souls into one
beyond
July 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
the worst part about forever
is not knowing if i’ll ever be
completely immersed in it
uncovered
July 10, 2014 § Leave a comment
I find hope at the bottom of drawers
caught between pages
stuck together by time
written in a hurried hand
rushed ink that speaks
meaning from years ago
still waiting on wilted pages
for an ear to listen
calling from its home
to be lifted from those pages
