.95 black book.
She approaches a wooden door,
finding no perceivable reason to unlock and step in.
fighting, accepting, collapse, create.
Speaking, interpretation. Doubly so.
Staring beyond thought.
wilted ferns and dog eared covers.
Light unmoving, but denying surface.
Perpendicular existence, crossing oaths with separate elements.
How this blends into ours stories.
An arrow upside down. with a destination
In the past.
These chimes, these slides.
Of steps, seeking to hold to a reason. Caution, and fold.
In my bones. Feeling the pressures of my own body
Stepping, pressing, molding and unfolding.,
Reap what you have sown
Know the fields you plan to pant your harvest.
People here do not know how to communicate freely.
Sept 25. 10
“in a dark time, the eye begins to see”
The mythe is the public dream and the dream is the private myth
I am not defining . Simply speaking.
Clipping horizons on an unpaved road.
These homes are keeping our stories.
Multiple manifestations smooth surface
A separate style.
Barking with blind eyes.
The classic capital.
Knees and elbows
where is the ground.
No other tale,
this is where I have become over sensitized,
this crowed keeps on pushing.
What is the cause behind this foul dissatisfaction
Get back on the casual train.
To show support for simple turns.
I want to ride my bike in the woods and cry.
Varied conclusion. Alternate ending
does the smoke in my eyes ever stop stinging or will it just continue as its law demands?
Should I dwell on a hope for change when it is the root of its own desire.
So many factors in the race for reason.
No physical garden of eden for bliss
this land takes no prisoners.
Linkin logs, broken pencils and tight jeans.
These are all the same in different accidents.
Happening or becoming.
Falling into a semi circle seclusion.
We are always watching never seeing.
Thinking free but not clear.
Personality distinction the glitches and give aways.
It hurts feeling the gears shift
like a tear in the fiber.
Taking back and idea.
Where are these people?
What does it look like from here.
Beyond the curl what becomes of the initial force, the direction.
Finding comfort in what is here in front of me.
Accepting that this is how I am.
Will letting pests come and go under a blind eye catch the real dangers attention.
On a new path of destruction.
Pushing excuses for existing as we do.
Oct 25 10
Barely up river
The stream away from finished.
Wearing out at the knee, we’re still not broken in.
Quiet acknowledgement. Knowing what we don’t know wanting needing the connection of stories waiting to unfliter.
A swell in the horizon telling me to look for more.
The cons. deceivers. Fungus on the crust.
One of time, space of these.
Over lapping sequence
no man’s reasoning makes definition.
Subjective scent only brings theory.
Unforgotten, over looked
a guess at why my shadow guides me. Difficult
A page marked to return
Stationed before a constant as a fluid figure.
From one time to another,
from winter to spring.
The days are not the same.
The saturated imagination.
In a labyrinth bathed in morning light,
helplessly honest through tone and form.
An eyebrow raised with a bran bark.
There are two sides to this rock.
Passion painted flat, behind each color
the pigment breathes undrained life.
Between these sets, she is flawless,
matched within what has and will
More than you can conceive.
Defining expression by subject.
It is what it seems.
What you see isn’t what it seems.
the stories you least expect break the crust.
To taste lips break boundaries.
Lust compressed, desire fought in the undertow there are times when it makes sense.
When a moment feels for you.
The blinds are still drawn and the dreams continue rolling.
Two teeth searching for a common function.
Closing the interruption between notes.
Slang making but dissolving the expression.
What does it mean.
Showing strokes with a stiff hand.
Common capable. Believing in a conjuration.
Liquid expression dropping without a clue.
As smoke dissipates. A third light quit’s the bind.
I thought I stood a chance, for what I wont admit.
A step in a door that leads mo nowhere I intend to stay or belong.
When we harmonize in any direction the …
Repeating the process.
The same thought stone ground into the same substance.
A light without anything to embrace.
a drug that makes anything that seems like something
Away from cause the result bias.
The standard melts away from bone.
where to believe is best.
I know a fling a fantasy.
As I dissolve, catch shadow underneath relaxation.
There isn’t a hope.
Capital. pillar of social success.
Everything you can hope to mimic the image of.
Wrapped in a metallic foil ready for consumption
any time anywhere.
No hint beyond the sweet.
I am a creature of self defense.
Fighting imaginary foes.
Believing by staying away from the meadow that the poison wont creep.
Not in terms of behavior but beyond the grounds, in places you can’t measure.
Bundle of passion trembling beyond gaze.
The zest of a tart fruit cant begin to establish her real flavor.
Curved parallel lines. A smooth sweep.
Harboring warm potency thick enough to draw you under her gaze.
Point before reason. Written absent of cause.
Where why how.
Forget about it.
There, under the idea of hope we think the system is something more than its’ nature.
Nonsense swallowed. The glare can’t fold reasoning.
Hoping for an inspiration toward breathing steady.
Where do these feelings lead.
How do they take seed.
What is the bother between thought
The pace plays no favorites
Covering desire for another
Replace but remain.
Sitting behind selfish visions
defined from selfless observers.
Kept burning from uncounted verse
Still not breaking even.
I’ll mock no imagined justice.
Create no superior fault.
Swim in a recycled pattern
What is mine is yours.
There is no reason
Beyond becoming a moment.
Keeping another fantasy warm.
Our truths attempt to find law.
No break no tether.
Waiting on a word. The ink pot
Unchastened for history over reason.
Their motivation in comfort.
These are my paces, the break in the rhythm.
When you find a branch to find balance
Something will find its way tot shake you.
Here and now
trying to stay in one place
without letting that and there
grapple you into submission.
Stale. A base creature in the jungle.
Soiling reason with absurd gestures.
March 21. 11
It’s as if this wave over took my ship
and im stuck. Between digestion
Waiting for the drain to swallow me.
Listening once again to the small things without a face.
A ticking or a rustling, a currency my coins don’t fit into. Yet are universal.
Is it a matter of giving in? or trying harder?
Who became this in absent thought?
Stealing grudges and fire without necessity.
Painting sorrow and digging graves for the living.
How do we become what we say we aren’t?
We make the priorities
Shaking new trees and building new labyrinths.
It’s a strange experience to find your way back into your skin.
To worry about curses, about what it was once before, but is truly all the same.
Gentle collapse. Pushing double standards.
A way to understand. To perhaps see clearly.
Is this all in vain or masked under vanity?
Flush joints, their pulse mimics our own.
Tinny little spider, sneaking into locked rooms.
Am I the fools attendant, blind.
Digging south to west. Tired and feeding between the lines.
How does this story read.
A silent whistle or pigments bonding.
As with material. As with time. At my door. Through my hands.
There is no other way but to follow your own steps.
Innocence. The small change making the difference.
This spill of unreason for purpose.
Debt for the bet, until chance has paid. Rounding the difference in favor of whim.
Are we not more far sighted than our own skins.
A pair of desires with no intention. The want, the fantasy.
Marking shadow. Finding a distinction between the same subjects.
In a place without pitch we still carve perspective.
Imagination for reality.
Now and again the feeling asks for no judgment.
Paused. Chance interrupted blending no moments into experience
Folding grains past flesh.
Bounding toward the path beyond distant.
There are things I can’t admit.
Places I could have been.
Time and energy, for no further gain.
Wishing for a moment of clarity.
She moves between the steps, half here more there.
Scanning for an attachment, crooked medicine.
Stacking examples for unspoken debate, a bank of train track pennies.