bah bah bah bah bah bah

bob dylan kick.

for hazel motes

There's a peace in tsunami
Like,

     ness
That I feel when I'm with you
And that's it.  That's what I feel.
Peace.

It's not nobility that i feel
Just the absence of stress

What do you want to do with your life
What do you want to do with the life God has given you

Laughing is not forced with you.

I am looking forward to having you in my arms and nothing more.
We laugh
-like nothing else
not even matching stars have
anything on us

If we see something and relate to it, it's only bc we've related to it before
God didn't show up
“He's always been...”
We relate to a form
of something we have not a language for

I'm in a good place when
I can go to bed when I'm tired

Perfect angles are perfect angles
and they're not anything more

10:16

Happy Thanksgiving

Language is my

last ditch attempt at nobility

I have the appearance
of everything
But
       I have nothing.

If I fit
into an archetype,
it is
the one you've seen
before, in movies
     Wanderer
     Explicit character
Out in the open
,
Rainbow,
lurching from no beginning
lurching from no end
lurching from no beginning to no end.

As easily
fit
as Animal
stowed on board
The Ark

Out in the open

Heavy-handed proctor
of words,
Deliciously consuming
try this try that

At my own
ex-pounding,
Create is king,
I Am
serving all who hear
near and far
the grandiose revelation of the soul.

When the words stop
coming, then I am done
I am foreplay for others
to pleasure in the climax of
their own
lives,
in the office, in the field.

Nature has bestowed
birthday upon birthday
that my own bloody fingertips
from
       paper upon paper
                       rip open
.  And I get
Blood
all over my presents
from
Too Much
Ionian Iteration.

So I walk to streets of Paris,
with my bloody hands,
and I wash them in the rivers,
nestled in concrete,
not going
anywhere.

Love Poem

I heard a jet but did not see it
I saw

the cloud
That swallowed it whole.

     

Your steps from one to two
and back

as
going through

up 
stairs.
They are my synaptic firings
They are change-s

as change
            As my interpretation

Those eloquent, humbling
steps
               Purple cardigan, sexy
               Matchstick denim
pulsate in unified   rhythm
as Form
I. AM. CLOSER.
I. AM. HERE.

My love
My love, my love
I am here.  I am done.
Fontanel retraction to perfect union

back

in the fol-
d.

My want, 
solidified--
Recognized attraction
met with matrimonial
delinquency

Scatter-brained Parisian
Looooove
Absent delusion as
Reality.
Reality: me cycling through you

I have but two wings to give
As my own of mine.
I want you
To have
These wings of my own.

Purple-y
Harmony, come up to me
In these mouth hallowing
Clouds

repentance:  change your aim.

the kingdom:  the way things really are.

head cold

life
reality
God
love
choices
chances
favor
sovereignty
confidence


i am worn.  i'm all four seasons on repeat.  i'm planet earth as it is.  one that never moves.


i've changed and yet i've never changed.  i am always waking up and always asleep.

i am a newborn.  i am a grave.


i am the hardest part.  i am the only part.  i am the valley and the mountain.


i am courage.
i am coward.


i am your clover, your gusto.


i am the turning key.  i am a locked door.


i am all that i want and nothing that i need.


Need's belly is full.  so here i am.
here.

seed to harvest.  flower, frozen berries,

cycling through these seasons on repeat

practice story

i really want to hike the Inca Trail in the Andes that leads to Machu Picchu.

like, seriously.  like, soon.