Friday, November 24, 2017

i used to write

i used to write
flipping the pages
scribbling throughout the night

sometimes hard to start
but the moment the spiget turnt 
overflow, gushing, flooding

unable to move as quick and the thoughts splayed across my mind
the pages turnt black
running out of space
out of light
to scribble it all down as it erupted 
uncontrollably 

trying to catch each thought
like finches free in the morning sunlight
hummingbirds happy to be seen
but cautious to be caught

what to catch and what to release
self judgement hovering about
speeding, racing to be heard

the pen stops
to take a drink of the air that surrounds
 

Friday, May 26, 2017

molecular jungle

the things I know
come to me in waves and strands

strands of gold
flickering in the
florescent light
of a thousand small
beating wins,
fixating on the tumulus
of the earth

hearts
racing

ascending walls
twisting and turning,
racing to the canopies,
the obstacles connecting
earth's floor
to it's ceiling;
breath.

fresh. light dew
dancing upon xylem;
gloss,
like dragonflies breaking
through air particles
flittering through mediums
of time and space

covert in essence
blind eyes blinking
in axiomatic comprehension

speckles of dirt
water splashing
none a sensory
hath overlooked

electric in the vibrancy
of energy
energy palpabile
tangible

dripping with sweat
buzzing at elevated
pitch
tone deaf under bright
skies

the things I know
hide in the dwellings
of canopies

jungles thick
the eves twinkling
in starlight
vines giddy a-flight

flocks meticulously buzzing
amuck
molecular subsets blending
in a symphtomatic rhythm

pulses vivaciously
renewing and awakening ,
kinetic energy streaking
the elusivity of all that is
or isn't.

seen
perhaps
unseen

the things I know
vascilate through the
words and sounds

uttered. kept inside.
closed in the root system,
blood pulsing through
oxygenating the ebbs
and flows to all that
which is

all that which is
that is

what I know



Monday, May 1, 2017

vivification; amor

the gut wrenching awakening
palpable like trickling water

nestled in the crux of your spine,
the vivacious mountains of your cuerpo

constellations of soft electricity
waking up the deep depressions of my heart

craving.

desire.

yearning.

warmth seeping,
enveloping my existence

like sunshine dancing upon the feathers of
bright eyed ballerinas

floating on your breath
your strength, an inclusion of gentleness

tenderly moving me from sobriety
clarity washing the unabridged crooks of my mind

blankness ensues.
like hot air balloons expunging all futile matter
from the mind's confines

peace.

calmness.

clarity.


like white innocence
painted doves whisked in due flight

your freckles,
happily decorating the well-worn lines of
all that life has blessed in your wake

twinkling and invigorating, your blue cognizant eyes dive into the unique amalgam of sea green, canary yellow and sky blues that are mine.

like lagoon swims following Heruclean hikes,
thirst quenching all longed for,
known and unknown.

revitalizing in the lighting, the pale libations of your presence
elusive this space we hold, this parallel existence
by chance hath transpired.

the wordless depth that seals levels of kindred love,
trickling water through the overture of your caress.

molding perfectly, wholly, into the confines that which is you.
sinking softly, melting from bi solitary entities
rivers emptying into the idiosyncratic space where
stars align, connecting the dots of all that need be.

to lay in this abyss,
breath unto breath,
body on body,
skin on bare skin,

is to exist.

the pith of life,

is love.






Thursday, April 13, 2017

in passing.

I haven't written in ages.

Grandma is gone.

It's their 62nd anniversary.