sink, swim

Today is cruel fate and
yesterday a thorn
but grace dawns on
the morrow, glimmering
like diamonds riding
the gentle ocean glass.
And our hearts
are like ravens
And our souls
are like boats
But our spirits
are wild as a song
and they keep rising past
the wound of the sunset
the poetry of trees
to push higher against
the wind, to
straddle the cosmos and
breathe the stars.
So to this ship
softly sinking and
their black-eyed sailors,
to their tales
gently dying and
heroes in arms:
keep sailing
keep rowing
keep speaking
keep on.
Let it die
let it die
let it die with a grace.
Let it move
let it breathe
but never
let
it
stop

photo

flower

Hold me close lest
the bees tickle my nose
for to them I am a flower, you see!
Let your warm breath melt the
ice within my eyes, for
I was tired of seeing, but
you breathe life into my sight.
Let your heart beat in mine and
my heart beat in yours,
for how fond am I to hear
the drumming of two souls!
Let the sunshine of your face
speak to the darkness of mine,
for darling, you glow.
Let the twigs in your hair grow
to branches—birth leaves!—bloom
white flowers full, and from here we'll
build a swing and watch
the stars of eternity

Excerpts from Letters II

...
My darling my dear,
you were the sunshine
that lightened my eyes
but night has fallen and
our hearts go down with the moon.

The knot in my throat tightens
like sailboats caught in stagnant tide
But why, dear one, Oh why?

Could I have saved you, darling, child?

Excerpts from Letters I

...
It's midnight and you sleep
It's midnight and the road roars
It's midnight and the sky sighs
It's midnight and the cabinets shake
You should have known better
And I...

But now the air escapes my lips
with muffled word and speechless eyes
Mama, I didn't want to see you cry
Papa, I didn't want to see you die inside
I didn't mean to
I didn't mean to

There is snow in my hair as
I leave for a cloud of fire
and the gates of heaven and hell

Neverland

I saw two stars shoot
across a dimly lit sky
they were you—they were I—
disappearing into the blackness of night.
If the sky was a continent,
we'd be lost helplessly
but not without hope, for you see
there's not you, there's not I
but a "we"— pleasant company!

"If I could I would pick
all the stars to make
you a glittering crown,
oh my dear,
oh my love,"
said he. Then
with tall, bended knee and
rough, gentle hands
he would hold me close
then whisper, "Love endures"
And with ruby heart glowing
he'll hold me still
my heart in his heart
eternally filled.

There's a map in his eyes
of adventure and thrill
he'd sail through the storms
just to be with me still
just to gaze at me still

pictures of grandma

Hem Me In

Tell me why
the goosebumps grow
even when I wear my coat.
Neither rain nor weather
can freeze me over
but something still within my soul.
I am but patchwork upon
the quilt of time,
but something tears and
bares all stains beneath the covers.
O, what to do with daylight bright—
it burns the edges of my soul!
But when I gaze into your eyes
I find blazing light
and grace too hard to swallow.
"I am sick—I must die"
says Thomas, says Nashe,
but even then the stars will sing
"You make all things new"

half of my heart

What hurts most
perhaps only is this moment
when I watch you walk
away from me.
Tell me please:
is it because I am cold,
breathing lifeless breaths beside you?
I am but dust within my grave
without a mouth to speak or
kiss your soul.
Well I am covered with the
finger prints of shallow musings,
so paint me there upon your canvas
in shades of redemption's son.
Clothe me then in linens pure,
and lest I die,
stain me red.

photo

walk.

I walked through a place where
rainbows run through the water
and even the murky depths sparkle
where the light hits it.
And by the old tire swings
my soul felt real once more;
and where the dirt met asphalt
I kept on walking, well thinking that
all of us are just cycling through reality
though the weather's rather dreary.
Yet ahead upon the road
a bird took breath to fill
her crumpled lungs.
So I kept on walking
leaving footprints wet upon the gravel, glimmering.

photo

look.

The light is fading outside my window
but behind the curtain
the most beautiful silhouette of a bird
flows through the sheets.
And then for a moment I am well,
content to glimpse the shadows of his wings
singing through the twilight.
And with one flutter he was gone
only for a feather to remain
in the dying sun.
I turned it over in my tarnished hands and
within the weather'd bristles
hope glistened.


photo

Half-empty

Shall laughter emerge from stale waters and
ignite the sorry stars?
Well hand me an oar and
maybe then we shall navigate
murky waters, gargantuan depths
where sorrow and madness dream
stories of war and widow's sons.
But we will wear light and
dress in roses still blooming, we shall
pledge our hearts—unafraid—
and be made whole.

χάρις

The sky is sad with me today
But we'll be brave
We will not cry.

Dream Documentary

We ride our rusted bikes towards
the pointed sea, across
dirt paths with old cars
and doors in the ground—
mine, faded green, without handles
that I hold onto the turning spokes of
my traveling wheel
and yours, sturdy, wide
turning the course of the ocean that
shines azul in the somnolence of day.
We stop for tea with
Indigo, and
she with beautiful ocean eyes
in an old caravan painted blue
with tables veiled in cloth.
An old lady asks to see the
hands of my brother:
"They are soft, gentle," says she
And I, jealous for a moment he has
gone first
Jealous of my room in which he
now sits
I slide back, somehow knowing the world
rows on despite my grievance, somehow
knowing things change.
But a picture of us two, us dear
and unassuming
Laughing with head scarves and sun shades
and dripping cones of ice
All is well in our technicolor world
All is fine within our dream

Soliloquy

All the world's a restless soul
Planted, with half an acre
To grow, and
Half my heart
To fold.
She spies
The wind blown rose bud,
The crown of the sea—
A world behind a window aged
She dances with giants
Upon the sun-soaked soil that
hugs her father and buries another.
But her songs atop the noble pine,
Soughing in the valley,
Cling, climb the knotted branches
Green the withered needles
With eager hands that sing
The mountain top's tired hymn:
"We wake, we wake"

Blossom, Grow

Brother says,
"Waves are like hands
That pull you into the sea"

I haven't fully unpacked yet
I've got all my lives in brown boxes
But out here
Where the air is freezing, and
My breath blows as a cloud
There is something piercing
As the sun's glare

Maybe, perhaps
I will dive into the seven-armed sea and
Its open grave of seamen
For I am a sailor, sailing
This black and stormy tide
But there are galaxies in my eyes
That murmur like a breeze
Rattling the crusted boats
That sleep within the harbor

But also there are stars
In my eyes, in my soul
And they burn and radiate
Their sparks of light -
Melt the insides.

They remember, I remember
Our vision of summers past
In a gold and silver land
Of meadows vast and castles full
Born of adventurous desire, and I
I watched the mountains grow.

A Song For Bravery

I will follow You through the woods into the daylight,
From the thorn'd briers to the everlasting brooks
Whence refreshment revives the soul in fluid nourishment!
Here, the world weary traveler with aching soles
Says to the sparrow: "Alack! All is not well! All is never well."
But ev'rywhere, I am witness to the resilience
The human spirit exhibits, that
Bruised, hard-pressed against the grain though we be,
Hearts are intrepid--we fight boldly on!
Darkness will yield, for the dying earth will meet illumination

Redemption is as the sun: bright-shining and
Stubborn against the dim
Salvation prevails! To life be the victory!--and
With hand over heart
We carry our swords; the pledge to bravery
Not lost over battle cries and the hides of wolves

Though the blood sinks deep beneath the wound
And eyes lose their zeal, O! what a brave thing I hear!--A song
That rises through the night--ocean roars beneath the twilight
It drops down with the surge, and
Rises as it swells, growing louder and stronger
The wind may break; the waves seize our wooden boat hearts
Tossing faces, turning pride--
The feelings driven with the monstrous tide
But lo! Lift up anchor, ring the bell! For we
Sail softly into daybreak,
The skies shining faintly on,
And His will doth the raging sea faithfully yield:
"Be at peace and be still!"

A Goodbye For Now

Hello friend!
"How are you?"
"I'm swell"
But really
Just a trifle sad
A weariness that manifests itself in waking hours
So farewell, and see you soon
Perhaps when the sun shines
A bit brighter
And life seems
A bit lighter
I'll come out, less sad
But for now, I don't belong

A Temporary Bum O' Sorts

4 am

There's a heaviness and
Weariness of soul
As the sleepers in the sunrise
Groan, and turn with
Backs bruised from the sleepless moon

And the drowsy midnight eyes
Defenseless against the wind of
Vivid thoughts, soaring above the
Inner mind's peaks, descending
Into chasms birthed from anguished soul
Flutter about, land in high places
Despite the clay-mingl'd soil beneath

Into the God-breathed hope
Every sorrow'd man stands
Inspired air, intagible, yet
Felt fully in the depth of soul
The gleaming light, the sparrow
All eyes are set upon
Blood and marrow, in betwixt
Solemn strength does lie

Perhaps, Maybe, Possibly

The white sheet blankets the
Vog-bitten city
Caramel locks and sore eyes,
The music's melodies, the minor lift,
And leaves compressed within the pages
Compose the inner mind's mist

Inward Knots

I am having one of those utterly discombobulated days where nothing seems right and your tongue is restless and silly in all its sayings. Soup for breakfast and a pudding cup for desert! I suppose I will keep to myself in hopes I don't disclose anything jejune or foolish. Perhaps in a couple days this vapidity will wear off. What a most irksome thing!

P.S. Artwork by Inga! Isn't she an artsy one? Find her here: http://www.myspace.com/iiiinga

Gargantuan!

A most lovely song! Melodies like birds that soar the smiling, patterned skies! It's a must buy, in fact. Savin' me coins fer this.

Today I am sad.

Persimmons are not red

Hello hello! I already feel quite insane as I am sure no one reads this, but anyhow here I am in the blogging world. It is very early in the morning here so I will slumber soon, but before I depart for bed I thought I'd very well post a scribadable from my adventure journal to share.

Yay! I think I am figuring this out. I must still make some major changes because if anything, I am a fickle perfectionist and will stop at nothing until I am completely satisfied. Goodnight restless earth!