Peeking Through Woods

Beneath new shadows

seeing fresh faces

the uneven lines

and slow to fast paces

Here lurks an unknown

something for thought

gnawing at silence

as truth to be sought

pacing the room

conjuring questions

devising up answers

out of wistful obsessions

then comes a line

read in soft acquiescence

shedding some purpose

with specks of adherence

to be told where you are

by your own meek voice

recognizing the now

knowing there is always a choice

a light breaks through clouds

upon this simplicity

to live and live well

with a natural audacity

thinking cap

I'm going swimming today.

I found a cave where my mind stays,

this cave of words and books and plays,

everything is illuminated as Jonathan Safran Foer would say.

To feel, to touch, to love, to mold.

These are the moments I crave to hold,

Places and people, mostly young, and rarely old.

Characters and friends that are humble, yet bold.

But there are times when I swim to shore,

of books I come to vigorously adore...

I read a line and then some more,

but all the while I've stepped out the door.

So the line repeats as I read it again,

again and again and again and again.

I feel like a child just reaching ten.

So distracted by memories back then.

My brother was an artist who loved to draw

He also painted and played the violin when he was small,

but along the way he just dropped the ball,

I'm guessing he thought that art wasn't his call

or perhaps it was my father who was so smart and so tall,

that unconsciously made my brother to stall,

to follow his dad down some grander white hall.

I used to imagine a million things at once,

played in a world with unlimited months!

Beads and small animals came alive in my room,

pretend stories were mine to excessively loom.

Food was always a box of popsicles or fruit,

but creating new things were better than edible loot.

Oh! how my mind conjured up incredible days,

where everything happened in impossible ways!

Decadent worlds and swirling rivers,

underwater pearls carved into bow and arrow quivers

constant daylight and new adventures to be had,

even the most minor of details made me glad.

Here I float on the waters of my brain,

remember now the storms of muddy rain,

things got lost and words were quieted,

I left that place and have yet to be reunited.

Now crawling back to a cave not mine,

I decipher new words that glisten and shine,

stories written by authors much more leonine

I waddle to their pond for a brief blip in time,

It's here that I remember something clandestine,

their worlds take me back to one simple line:

but one simple line turns into one million mines

exploding in thought, in fret, and I'm hushed like a mime

steadily breathing I sit back and recline,

dreams filter in like a whimsical wine,

carefully now, observing each sign,

I take to my writing, once again so divine.

-on teetering from getting a doctorate in grad school or writing as a starving artist, hoping both can coexist, but unsure of what may be the more astute or ingenious direction for myself. Going back to the poem I wrote called: "War".

disguised disarray

It's like standing in the rain,

Nothing feels real, neither joy nor pain,

this moment seems repeated,

Everything only hits me just the same

Where is my face?

Here is your jacket,

here is your path,

here is your work,

here is your check.

Arrows, bright lights, big signs

shoving us in some direction

Majority not thinking twice,

led on like mere blind mice.

Don't snatch away my dream,

I fight against this machine

holding hard to what's so far away,

left with gasping breaths that fray

A whale in the room,

nobody wants to notice it loom,

it sits there all day,

everyone afraid of what to say,

silence tolls and casts a day.

counter-balance

I'm an addict.

I need help.

search for denouement

Pulling me down again,

I can't stop from wondering,

how many days I've left to give,

Can't stop pondering,

what it is that wills me to live.

This force of need,

I must search out,

like from a seed,

meaning must sprout.

The days end work,

I feel upon my shoulders,

breath barely heaving,

as I surmount these boulders.

Carry me,

take gravity,

point me to a new discovery.

lead me away from all this tragedy,

Carry me,

take mighty gravity,

show me flight above adversity.

I close my eyes to hear you,

Your voice tells me possibilities,

fighting my will's atrophy,

guiding me, ever so firmly.

You tell me I am something,

meant to be life-saving,

intelligent and comprehending,

steady feet, never compromising.

I must escape from this abyss,

must observe my surroundings carefully,

be swift to see what others miss,

running strong and mindfully.

new eyes

I was swimming in the dark,

I saw you falling away from me,

I tried to understand each mark,

but I refused to really see.

Tears, you betray me.

Tears. Vision. Blurry.

Breathe. This is too much for me.

Stay, stay, I cannot see.

There you stood in front of me,

your beauty overtaking me,

all I could do was stare,

feeling so lost and numbly unaware.

Every moment you've spent with me,

I can't imagine any other history,

that's moved me more deeply,

than your star-speckled love for me.

I will shoulder your heavy sighs,

Mother, Mother, I will be...

be your star-speckled new eyes.

Bright as the morning skies.

"Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails."

tick-tocking

sweet little things!

War Junket

"Where does the body begin and the mind end?"

We keep shooting silent arrows, re-puncturing blind wounds.

box talk.

This box is too big.

This box is too tall.

This box is so weak.

It's no box at all.

This box has a lid?

This box should be closed.

This box is my kid?

I'd rather not impose.

Everyone look at my box!

Everyone look at it glow!

Now box you stay put,

don't let the other boxes know.

At home my box sits,

with comfort and joy,

I knew it'd succumb,

when I put in that toy.

The box sits alone,

edges tattered and torn,

what's happened to the box?

Once sturdy, now worn.

This box doesn't fit,

It collects too much dust,

This box is a twit,

it's even managed to rust!

My box now keeps shut,

I'll never know why,

I didn't open the box,

because it required me to try.

-on never being able to please you.

-box

war

I digress in this brief moment,

the war in my mind is turbulent,

for a blip in time I'll crawl into my cave,

not to be captive nor to be saved,

just carried away from all these distractions,

I stretch my limbs with scapular retractions.

opposable thumbs

Headed down some ample path,

faces pale or black with ash,

these desperate thoughts bottled in a flask,

while painted smiles remain a mask.

Reaching for the closest balm,

numbing us temporarily calm.

Searching for some sort of truth,

while day to day we mar the proof.

Colliding flesh, colliding views

everything a blur and acutely skewed.

Save the mind, in an inner tomb,

resurrect deadness to leave the room!

Voices whisper a suppressing gloom,

Nature hints at an opposing bloom,

Light and Dark, Sun and Moon,

intertwined by a thread of time,

waiting for the daybreak chime.

Building pressure to take down the wall,

a mind so weak left with scanty arsenal,

you....hold steady.

you....be ready.

Quiet. Hear that voice, still and small?

sleep waking

dear love,

Close your eyes, let your worries subside. Tomorrow the sun will rise, and tonight the moon will shine and it will continue to give you light. The air will continue to flow in and out of your body, filling and re-filling you with it's invisible strength. The trees outside your window will produce shade and the birds will visit it's shade yet. So rest your pretty head in a drifty sleep, the sky will cover you, your skin will keep you, your blanket will warm you, and the heavens will pour down hope on you. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep, and let the morning bright bring you back.