Sunday, February 22, 2015

Can't Stop. Won't Stop

Chemists get ready, because the small people think you made it all up
and though they like your remedy and want to take two     
not everyone is convicted of the evolution of an element
they want to believe that Jesus invented adderal and quaaludes      

So stop it right now because there is no cure for lent
there is no cure for old money or new money  or bad religion
or maybe I'm getting excited in my words and your bravado    
perhaps I am a symptom of the wealth you should know

Instagrammatically Correct

You are every breath
and thump thump in my chest
Every time I laugh but don't mean to
is you
This is all very important
but is not rare
Some diamonds are unpolished and set in their ways
others twinkly

I want to sit next to you
in a comfortable place
And hold hands
while I rest my head on your shoulder
And doze off
before I realize what is happening

And the sun doesn't know
what the moon sees
The moon thinks
he is remedying everything
I have been trying to get the two of them together
because I think they could be best friends

Am I doing this right?


If you give me a group of letters
and ask me to spell them
I will figure out a way
to make them say
I love you

If you give me a set of numbers
and ask me to solve them
I will figure out a way
to make them add up to

If you hurt my feelings
break my bones or heart
or kill my friends while I am sleeping
I will figure out a way
to forgive you

The thing I will not do
figure out love
for you
x's 2

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Journal Review

I pulled out a handful of notebooks from the last year and a half
looking for inspiration in the form of some forgotten scrawl
hoping maybe I wrote it down and I just forgot
I discover my doodles are as reoccurring as my dreams
little butterflies and an assortment of flowers and smiley faces
A half-sun shining from the top corner of most of the pages

I'm surprised how often I break character in my secret thoughts:
Hello starts with Hell, And it seemed desperate and maybe it is,
Hi typos! Let's make amends,
When people fall in love they do so violently,
I reach for my phone and I feel lonely
It would be rude to tell you that I love you.

It is not surprising
that all of these scribbles
are in different ink
Purple, black, blue, and green
 countless different pens
are collecting my thoughts
 in countless different spins
Some spring, some bruised, some Zen
 clearly written to me
or meant for someone else
 if illegible: to him

Feeling satisfied,
I put those old thoughts away
 place them
in no particular order
back into the milk crates
I store them in
But I am not satiated
I speak my peace
 but no one is speaking to me
in the language I speak
or maybe it's just me
If that's the case, now I'm listening...

Monday, February 9, 2015

Cheers & Waking Up

Cheers to the poets and their words
And every yarn ever spun by all the storytellers

Cheers to godliness and the devil's advocate
And our willingness to expose ourselves and be part of it

Cheers to the broken-hearted remedy of the bards
And the sleepless, wakeful love that compels us

Cheers to Rumi and Hafiz
and everyone that wears their heart on their sleeves


Waking up isn't as easy as it used to be
My alarm clock goes off
and I just sleep
and it's not because the sight of sunrise no longer soothes me
and it's not because the task at hand no longer behooves me
I can feel my toes wiggle
and I want to hit the ground running 
It's just that my sheets and body are wrapped up in this perfect dream