That drowsy space between clarity and blur a clear blue sky inside the spacious open plains inside the mind every breath a wave in the ocean that is the collection of cells that is you room enough in heart to ride the tidal waves with grace learning to surf remembering the simple truth that we all die in the end so the meaning we seek is the thing that holds us back
Raindrops streaming down windows fingers tracing a line doing nothing Slinking into the shadows away from the fray being idle, watching the rain nothing to do, or say no need to try everything just is something you’re not dazzled like a moth with all those blinding lights glaring back from the sheen on the streets like foxes eyes the night a predator sharp and free but you won’t be the prey in which it seeks
I cry my land it’s tears touching the winter in frost the wheels of time having churned our vigil to summer burning in candlelight Learning what living looks like in winter time when skeletal remains of leaves dissolve into carpets of dirt
The clown pulled at his lips and folded them into a frown before picking at the spot at the corner of his mouth bursting a pimple and then pretending to laugh while his lips stayed true to his origami frown in his eye sockets, he placed large pieces of coal the fire in his eyes a mismatch for the dullness of his misshapen body stretching his feet into his shoes he walked down the road with a lot of scares to be made
I picture her shimmering in the wind sin, etched on her face in the shape of a grin disorderly conduct a glimmer in her eyes the girl without a name always dropping by and when she comes close stories rise about the miles and miles she’s been looking for frogs to kiss and now she knows there is no prince
The reflection of castles in my eyes take me away from this mundane life the turrets marking the sunrise my head a balloon floating on the clouds
down there on earth the sirens permeate our lives a journey through emergencies pulling the strings of our hearts always being sold ‘discoveries’ with promise that it will be a new start all that excitement of new eras before they pull us apart
We are the children of the storm hung out to dry on the washing line it’s all the fashion all the rage to be outraged a surge of hate to counter our ‘revolution’ because we’re freaks not ready for the role of human
In the highway of your unconscious mind Do you remember I was a jester, a clown trying to turn your frown pink with those fluffy candy clouds and we rode that ride with the face streaming lights in our eyes illuminating our carnival of rust but I am not the kind of man that can have friends with complications so I took you on a trip to chloroform dreams and most preposterous of all is I don’t know why I do such things.
Do you still decry my heart after all these years since you watched me fall? And in your tunnel vision do you sense I’m still married to the squall? do you scry the skies and see A little boy who didn’t want to mend fallen into manhood trying to break apart peacefully piece by piece?
In the hopes that in my nothingness peace could be contained in all the scattered shards of me