This morning I am open
watching a flower bloom,
to all that now surrounds me
as nature is my womb,
born into the sunlight
I’ve one more string to tune,
as all that now surrounds me
my song sung unto you.
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Yellow light reflects the spider web
Yellow light reflects the spider web
and a lonely fly who’s stuck in it
it’s natural but I’ll still question it
cause I’m human and I’m weak
see that fly trapped it is me
am I destined to repeat?
try my hardest to retreat
from all that hinders me
dinosaur are in the clouds
the raven stretches his wings now
hummingbirds don’t make a sound
while rain it trickles down
the lonely spider isn’t proud
he says either way we’ve got to eat.
Blades of grass
Blades of grass
beneath my feet
rise and fall
and spring back
towards
my perception of sky,
and my eyes are blue
and my vision is clear
and I’m seeing sevens,
while my shadow flutters
and becomes the tree
which stands still as death
O Heavens! O Heavens!
your child’s due rebellion—
a gift,
now I can finally see.
infinite visions.
This feeling hangs like ancient fog
over tree limbs lined by new day dawn
where single filed ants march on
the air is still as new born fawn.
His heart beats infinite visions.
broken leaves at sundown
broken leaves at sundown
set fire to the trees
drinking from the heavens
of nature’s crystal spring
yellow jacket bumbling
curious honey bees
as blades of grass we tango
bound for eternity
It’s all understandable. (for every no one who ever was)
To be honest
and be open
put yourself in
her hands like you’re a toy.
There’s a reason
for each season
pollen eaten
her wind cradles a boy.
They know nothing of us,
and we
know nothing of them.
We all
just sort of pretend.
We’re bitter still.
In the air there’s a bitter chill.
Like a car crash
I tell you that
it’s not too bad
we both just try not to stare.
In the glove box
there’s a snuff box
full of coupons
I keep in case that you cared.
The leaves on the ground,
remind me
how powerless that I am.
It’s natural to fall down,
we all
just sort of try to fit in.
Leave me alone, no don’t
leave me alone.
Memories fill my head
like waves
crashing down on the shore.
Just as soon as they hit
cast away
back to the ocean once more.
To be bitter
or be broken
understand that
this is for no one who ever was.
moving West
I flipped myself
like a coin
then flipped again
just to see
if heads or tails
would land twice
like a pollinating
honey bee
I figured if I had a
50/50 chance
I might as well
take a look see
and feel what lie on the
other side of dying
rather than spend another
long day trying
to convince myself
I’d be better off another house wife
crying
into coffee
or screaming into laundry
relying on the offerings
of innocent smiles
casting unintentional
shadows on my coffin
of denial
marred by my own
self loathing
which like a
preacher’s devotion
I took such pride
in approaching
solitude
like a potion
endlessly encroaching
on my own
well being
I admit I was broken
so I flipped that coin
heads
then I flipped myself
tails
and discovered
this notion
that
heads or tails I was going
Going
Gone
with the wind
not a rolling stone
or a tumbleweed
not a nickel or dime
not a honey bee
no I was a wreck
cast far out to sea
but that’s just the thing
it took all that to see
moving West wouldn’t be
all that easy for me
no nothing is lucky
nothing is free
except the glow of bonfire
in the dead of tree
where dancing shadows
take form and
I’m just
understandably me — hell
it’s already 1:03
and I’m hungry
but
I’ve got no food to eat —
so call it in the air
no
on second thought
I’ll just let this one be.
The morning
I’ve missed you
said the morning
to the man
at the top of the hill.
I’m so sorry
said the man
to the rising sun.
Don’t be sorry, be present
said the wind.
We’ve missed you, that’s all
said the trees.
And we’re glad that you are here
said the sun.
Thank you
said the man
at the top of the hill.
Now go
said the morning
there’s so much more for you to see.
So the man began
his descent into the valley
this time
with only his shadow trailing behind.
rand0m th0ught #105
it’s not the socialites with expensive cars
that I envy, it’s the people who butter my toast
and their diligent nature, that like fall trees,
I can’t help but look at in awe
blister in the sun
My eyes burn from
staring at screens all day.
What I would give
to blister in the sun,
with you, once more
14,000 feet high
above where passenger are allowed to turn back on their devices
above where planes fly.
We were swallowed by the sun
14,000 feet high, no reason
to be anything more than together,
maybe you can help me finish this one
with heads in the cloud, maybe it’s time.
Words Of An Average White Male 