It’s not black or white, but
it’s certainly not shades of
Because these operate on one dimension
which is not to say that there is
no depth to the colors, but that
words like ‘murky’ are inadequate
because murky has no shape or texture–
texture, temperature: properties of
Depth is not an empty space in your emotion/being
An artist, singer, dancer, poet
would love to fall
fall as if it were effortless, an
But I know you
r more shallow depths
and I felt the crumbs of static
cotton wisp-er, clinging to my
difficult to see
As I fall,
my light reveals
3 inches from my body
my next encounter*
My next fall.
But 3 inches is not enough to
think, plan, prepare
so I sink and
I fall and
I feel all over again.
I have such a beautiful life, here.
Everything is good, here.
I am happy, here, take my hand.
All I’ve ever wanted was to move inside you
A sign that what I am is not who I thought I was because I am broken on the inside.
But that doesn’t matter anymore
because I am happy, here.
The sense of melancholy that taints everything I do,
It does not exist, here.
Hear the way my heart beats?
It screams out my name!
Lies! Lies! at the tops of lungs. Sweet.
I know my limitations because I am limitless.This is what immortality feels like-
All I am is everything, and everything there ever was is beneath my reach.
I lift my arms and I grab the night;
I stretch high and my forearms pull her apart like water.
I only, grasp the heavens.
i am scared to share my thoughts
my thoughts are s c a t t e r e d
They do not exist in transit.
Most seem to have thoughts in chains
Long, unbroken streams of consciousness
Every link logical and fluid
A liquid beauty that ties down, captures, restrains.
my thoughts feel like ELECTRONS
pop! into my frontal lobe
[i am a starting thought]
pop! into my temporal memories
[i am a second thought]
pop! out of my mouth
[i am the unrelated response]
There is no chain.
They appear at will, with no in between steps.
A raven is like a writing desk!
I am scared to say what I think!
[you make me feel ashamed of myself]
I want to write poetry.
I want to write a song so beautiful it makes the world break;
I want to tear the fabric that holds us together to pieces so I
Can rebuild it again
And my sound will be the cornerstone.
My voice will echo through an empty chamber and it will be the only thing you hear,
It will enter you and seize your heart, it will squeeze you
And expand inside of you until it fills you up;
You heart will beat faster and adrenaline will pulse
And your body will loosen in the middle and tighten on the edges
You will become a human, just like me
And together we will rise up
And live out the true meaning of our creed
I walk in the night, what a beautiful sight
Lord Byron- please show me the streets I walk?
Let my cup of plenty runneth over
Till it leaves me wondering just what I’ve done to deserve sober, and I
Feel spiritual things but nothing satisfies my dreams
And so I raise my glass to toast to everlasting life
But immortality comes from being more than free and I shift into a bird to take flight
But nothing seems to me so beautiful to see as the falcon crying out it’s fatal call
And as I twist and turn down I miss one fatal calling sound and the world around me Crumbles and begins to fall.