I Remember (poetry)

I come from a place that I do not remember

In this place

May we call it my home

There were colors that do not exist here

Fantastic shades that fill my waking mind

Yet never can be painted with my tongue

To take you there

To show you the places that made me


I will tell again, these same words

I will try again to make real

The unreal


I do not know.

I truly do not even think you care

But for me, myself

I need to attempt

I need to delve back into the inside of my mind

To again feel that far away life

That is not mine to live any longer

Indulge me

Put up with me and my eccentricities

Know by sitting still and simply listening

You are giving a lost man

A blind man

A dying man

A happy memory


If I want to describe any one thing

I must describe everything

Because what is different about my last life

Is everything

Everything is a degree shy of what would seem normal

And the everything that was my everything was normal to me

That is an important point, yes

The everything is different

But it is not different to the us that called this everything home

Because it was all we knew


In this place, there lived people

The people whom I love, loved and will love

Yet who you, my very good friends

Have never known

And will never know

Know that my heart is divided


And that I say this not because I hate you


I love you too much

Just as I love those lovely creatures

Who populate my dreams

Yet are not here

How is a man ever to make peace

When he is a puzzle

Whose pieces can never be placed together


I dream

Not every night, or at least I don’t think

But they are in my mind many nights

Never fantasy

Never the future

Just the past

Those conversations I have had

Those same conversations I will never have again

Those hands I have touched

Whose bearer has aged, withered

And even if I was to touch again

Would not recognize

The world changes

And we change with it

And what was

Cannot be again


A thought just flew through my mind

A memory, really

Or maybe, how is it I can truly tell?

A girl I used to love has perished

I heard, and knew

Acknowledged and mourned


I did not go to the funeral

This girl who, she and I, we loved

I held her and told her sweet nothings

She is gone forever

Those words I whispered don’t exist anymore

And why

Why did I not see her again

Why did I not mourn more

Please, angel, if that is you

Forgive me, or, perhaps


I was not there for you when you needed me

Is it true you took your own life?

I was not there when you needed me

Because I was busy

Burn me

Torture me

I deserve the worst, and beyond

Your suffering was heard by me

I just ignored you

You are the past

Not the present,

Not the future

I just ignored you


Well my friend

Where is it I have brought you?

I’m afraid very little

I could have told you something pretty

But instead you see my ghosts

Life has been good to me

Life has been good to me

But life is very long

And every step forward

Is a step farther away from something else

And my weeping daydreams come

During a fantastical present


I remember

I remember

I remember

And I cannot forget


Transition (poetry)

Bubbles rise, burst, dissolve
After such a quick life
They exist no more
Just a faint ripple

A memory perturbing,

Those new bubbles
Themselves quickly rising
Quickly bursting
Quickly existing no longer

Nothing but a ripple


Deep inside those memories
That don’t float down the stream of our minds
Until after we truly know the imperfections of life
Until after we truly know the pure depths of sorrow
Deep inside these memories
Showered by our tears
Grown by the nurturing warmth of our despair

Forgotten, lost, and forever gone
A flower may bloom
A reminder that yes, beauty, she is real
That even after sorrow
Still, a flower can bloom
And a flower once appreciated

It does not fade
It does now wilt
It stays in bloom forever
Deep inside those memories
Whose ephemeral wonder

Live in our minds forever


Lost in this doleful garden we call our mind
A slave to those scents rising from the flowers of life
Powerless to stop the chain that links that arbitrary scent
With some distant memory
Either poignant or sad
Uplifting or melancholic
A forced arising in my mind
Like to hear that sound on the verge of the periphery
Which sounds so much like a sweet name calling
From a loving mother
That’s gone unheard for decades
That’s gone un-thought for many lives
Yet, here, the flower blooms
And its scent suddenly comes
Unwittingly, we smell these pretty little nothings
Not giving the action, indeed any action
The seriousness it deserves
Unwittingly we are brought back in time
To a time that is unreal
To a time when things were different then they are
How nice that memory of my mother
How sweet it makes me smile
And how long ago it was that such sweetness was so common
Oh, but that just a single drop in waterfall
Striking me bodily
Drowning me under the weight of a voluptiously lived life
Oh, stop, stop, stop
May the past sleep quietly
May those horrors I have stop haunting
May the past beauties stop forcing me to question the future
The weakness of humanity has an answer to the forever stream of memory
Surely, this is simply an escape
The right answer is to master the waterfall
To swim in its torrid waters
To be the true summation of all these disparities
Which are the hallmark of an angelic life
Yet, the scents coming from this garden
They do not live in the world of rationale
They operate much like a dream
It is not decipherable in words
What poignancy these dreams have
It is the language of atmosphere
Of  that arbitrary fear of the night
And that captivating wonder

Of forever loveliness
Sometimes, a scent may come from this garden
And to truly interact with it
To understand the intricacies that saturate its saturated essence
Would take that same impossible person who we were
At this memories creation
To truly do this
We must devolve, revolve, dissolve this person we are
To be the person we are not anymore
Perhaps this could be wonderful
This could be the way to live a meaningful life
That bane: human weakness
Forcing me doubt at the peak of a cliff
So assured that yes, I can undergo metamorphosis midjump
I can become that angelic bird that can fly through these memories
Yet fear of the unknown
That wiggling creature: doubt
And human weakness breaks me down
And like all those other lost souls
So close to a true calling
A true resonance
We renounce the embracement of the magic of this garden
We choose to forget
To ignore
The lives we’ve already lived
The wonders we’ve already seen
The universes that exist nowhere
Except in those invisible voids
Deep in our mind
That we refuse to illuminate
Afraid of awakening ghouls
When really there is only treasure


Things change
Fall apart
Come undone
The strong brick wall crumbles
Becomes dust
And those wonders it supported
Those who depended on it for protection
All turn to dust with the wall
Sad? Yes
Tragic? Yes
One cannot blame the wall for aging
For falling victim to that benevolent mistress
She captures us all
Simply remember
All that you have right now
The life you lead
The people you love
The happiness you glide through
And those sorrows you weep through
They will all be gone
They will all be gone forever
All that you, you, truly have
Is this sand quickly falling through your hands
The hour glass escaping the confines of your fingers
Don’t chase what is impossible to capture
Just enjoy that sweetness running through your hands
While it still runs through your hands


I Will Live Forever (poetry)

flowers bloom

pick them they wilt

there is nothing left to give

of those beautiful things

known to be true­­­


our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

squander youth

squander today

squander this moment

our lives are ahead of us

forever young

the canvas of life ahead of us

the future forever ahead of us

squander this moment

squander today

we’ve earned a break

our lives are ahead of us

don’t dare look in the mirror

don’t dare notice youth fading

when did it become okay to live a normal life

when did passion become expendable

are lives ahead of us

our lives ahead of us

another night slipped away

another night that didn’t mean anything

our lives ahead of us

are lives ahead of us


life begins with no confusion

clear sighted, far sighted

dreams just steps away

life as a dream

perfection as attainable

remember how you used to be

words raining from your mouth

their holiness unnoticed

the fragrance of poetry from every sparkle of the eye

life as a dream

dreams just steps away

is that really how we thought?

is that really who we were?

when did the fountain run dry?

when did we lose the ability to speak

when did we forget,

all of the poetry of the world

is it still there, all around us?

was it ever even there?


trying again

trying harder

starting again

starting harder

say what it is

say what it really is

make the words bend to emotion

let them lose the staleness of reality

let them be imbued with magic, grace


let them be imbued with the way the world truly is

a metaphor for the needed spiritual awakening

the continuous river from the bubbling start

through the rapids, meanders, forks,

till then, again, to meet the sea

touching those pretty waterfalls of its youth

just the once

flowing through every bend

just the once

man, us, you, me

these same hands that used to hold a rattle,

now working to buy a rattle,

these same legs once walked these same streets

with people who aren’t here, not as they were

the memories don’t fade

that all happened didn’t it?

does a river remember,

running over every stone

a joke unthought of until that one little moment

and if that moment didn’t happen? That joke? Would it still exist?

how sweet a memory

only after it’s repetition becomes impossible,

only after the memory leaves us,

nothing but a faint imprint that once, something happened

and it was a part of us

but what was it again? was it beautiful?

we simply rush downstream

we rush back to the sea

we spend our one life rushing towards an end

with no real knowledge of why we go there

with no real knowledge if we have to go there


why do we live as lies?

why aren’t we living how we know is right?

ignoring those things that call after our hearts,

that chase our waking minds

whose spirit lives in the closed garden of our structured self perception

why are we convinced that dreams belong just to idle fantasy

truth is our only reality

yet, we give it willingly to benevolent thieves

we allow the false imposition of someone else’s dreams

we do not trust our own hearts to guide us,

we do not trust our own definition of happiness to sate us

we bow to the whims of reality

we walk in a line that was set for us

with no question of climbing the vistas that are on every side

with no question of stopping and stopping and wondering at it all

we walk in a line that we have locked ourselves to

we are scared of our own reality

we are too lazy to chase our own reality

how dare we? how dare we squander precious life?

the only thing worth chasing

the only thing worth trying for

self honesty in every moment

immolate life to a deity greater then judgmental eyes


try, and perhaps fail

try, and perhaps be mocked

try to carve at inner perfection with imperfect tools

there is no true way to create that monolith in your mind

so be it

do not be afraid

create your imperfection

in an imperfect world

an imperfect attempt at chasing perfection

may be the closest we have to perfection

and an honest attempt at obeying the truth in your heart

may be the closest thing to a perfect life

in an imperfect world

Another Attempt To Fly (poetry)

loneliness is being in a crowded room

where no one meets your eye


sitting happily, not knowing this is what happiness is

not knowing until it departs, and in mourning

that day that was just another day,

imbued with nothing more than a normal sunrise and a few laughs

is now richly detailed with a light we didn’t apply at the time

so easy to miss the past

so easy to stand in the shadow of the monolith of the lives we’ve lived

exclaiming light has departed, when we keep ourselves in the dark

so easy to forget that now: now is its own fresh day

imbued with nothing more than a different sunrise and different laughs

we silently mourn  a past no longer with us

even worse: we mourn a future whose losses we can predict and weep for

even though the pleasure we are weeping for has yet to pass

losing the pleasure of the moment

in that dark chasm of our past and future


that wrong lesson learned from Icarus’

man doomed to fear the power of the sun

when the true enemy is frigid reality

of all of us who never attempted flight

who never knew the slightest hint of the suns warm rays

who never rose above the most close objects

to see there were vistas worth flying towards

things worth being burned over


all these colors

aren’t they the same

weren’t we here before?

have we ever left?

what is it that all this is?

what is it all this is for?


here in a different season of life

the world has changed yet we are the same

the new sunrise conquered by an unknown vitality

how are we to know how to survive

how are we supposed to appreciate the beauty of a new world

when we’ve just discovered our own world

when we’ve just discovered that our own world

the only world we’ve ever know

was temporal

is gone


knowing that death will catch us all

knowing that everything we touch will decay

ourselves only fleeting splashes of light

so be it

so be it

so be it

we must make peace

we attempt to make peace

how can one ever make peace?

we are dying

death is chasing us

she is there

she is right there

life is going to leave us

we will never live again

the sweet garden of our nirvana is having its flowers picked

mother father brother lover

we will never see them again

break reality

chase that ephemeral angel

I will live forever

lie to yourself

escape in a constructed reality

you must be true to your existential song

life will always be here

change the world

death is chasing us

she is breathing, so close

she is there

she is right there


it’s gone!

that dream in my kind slumber

lavishly wrapping me in a disappeared reality

will that conversation ever happen again?

will my heart ever be so rich with emotion?

bring it back

recreate it

let’s live life again

let’s watch our favorite bits

laugh over a highlights reel

how dare it just be once

how could once ever be enough

come back here!

those who are gone, I miss you

those who are here

we must make each moment into a memory

life is disappearing

how is it that everything has already happened?

the promise of potential only slightly appeases

the sorrow of what will never happen again


and here, suddenly, a new emotion

the sadness is not that so much life is already lived

the sadness in not that death and the end is a shadow in the sky

the sadness is that now, we have invested in life

we have taken a blank canvas and began to make it beautiful

we will never make it perfect

that is not the point of life

what we will never do

is have the blank canvas again

every stroke is unrepeatable

and oh, each stroke: so beautiful

but just the once is it made

and the emotion that went into its creation

we can feel its heat from the memory of the canvas

but never again will we know the fire of its creation


those times that were here!

weren’t they just here!

just around the last corner

surely walking distance

I remember the feel of gravel

surely some is even stuck still in my shoe

how can it be that was another life ago

how can it be that I am still so ready

to finish the second half of that conversation

the words ready to spill from my tongue

the image burned in my mind

a lifetime ago feeling more vivid then this moment


a need to feel something

to again be enraptured with the passion of youth

to again confront the wonders of life for the first time

here we are

past the turmoil of becoming who we were meant to be

a completed human being

we have the capability to do anything

without the knowledge of what it is we should do

we fear our weakness, we should take the easy route

self mutilate our spiritual perfection

drag ourselves through the dirt

from the lows we’ve already experienced

we know how to ascend to this lofty perch of right here again

how much easier this, then to gaze at the endless summit

of the high peak we have yet to climb

it just gets steeper going forward

life in the end will kill us

perhaps happiness is more important then perfection

perhaps ignorance is better than shades of grey

perhaps gentle lies are better than the oft promised nirvana of truth

perhaps lies are better than truth,

why break ourselves on the door that will not open?


let’s put all these things together

form all the disparate pieces into an image

you, me, the other: what does it all mean?

what did this vast tangled web produce?

what has a life filled with so many memories created?

we are building towards a crescendo, aren’t we?

is everything not going to become magnificent in the next stanza?

can we not just sit placid here, comfortable that tomorrow will produce the reality of our daydreams?

is the difference between the real life of dreams and our present reality

is it just realizing that today, we must capture our dreams

every tomorrow will be another today

any yesterday not working for tomorrow was wasted

is today going to be a yesterday, or a tomorrow?

oh, the sweet heart screams logic

we know our weakness

we know our weakness

we know our weakness

while still another day goes by

dreaming about a tomorrow

that’s just been pushed one more day farther away from reality

In Bloom (poetry)

Things run away, can’t find them

Yet  we remember, long, and despair their loss

Maybe one day the lost are found again

But does their reoccurrence make peace

With the sorrow when they were departed?


A flower in first bloom

That sign of regeneration

Sublime and terrible

Poignant sign of the constant regeneration

The cyclical re-enchantment of our universe

Coupled with all those past nirvana’s

The faded pedals from seasons past

Fallen to the ground, decayed, and now dust

Reminder of the fragility of life, and, ultimately, its passing

Heart wrenching: our fallibility

Heartwarming: our potential

Yet, now, in the season of our bloom,

What do we make of it?

What does it mean to be in season?

Feeling these first pulls of gravity on our branch

Knowing that no longer we grow


All we are is the vibrant color we were destined to be

Here, and now

This mode of perfection we’ve striven towards

And again

And again

What do we make of it

What is it to be here, and now?

To have this potential

This potential that is the meaning of our lives


Here I am, now, typing at a laptop

Just as you, yourself, are somewhere

Not here, not near, but real

Young and still vibrant

Reading and watching those people who were once like us

Seasons past, faded, and failed

It will never strike us

States our hearts

While our subconscious mind moves the boundary

Of where success lies


Into the nether lands of the easily attainable

The low hanging fruit that have been picked clean

Maybe there is still a little nectar left

But we could have ascended new summits!

To use this momentum given to us by gods graces

This momentum that is a universal gift

Shared by you, me, and the other

To metamorphose, to grow wings, to fly

There once, once upon a,

Upon a something

A belief that YES, it is attainable




And now

That we are in bloom

The reality of our downfall

Our  eventual decline: fall to the ground, decay, and then dust



Hanging over our completed ascension

Yes, I can see the future

We over-ripen: drop at our peak

Accomplishing only those things

That were to be the subject within our destinies story

On the road to something greater



Or something

Don’t trust these monologues

Brains frazzled, disconnected and afraid

Looking for poignancy and romance

Looking for a reason

Yes, to accept failure

But there can only be the aesthetic or the real

Rarely does a man find both

The failure of this poem

And a life without passionate words

Comes with the gift of rapture in the waking world

No one may learn the secret colors of this, my private mind

But what is wrong if it is only I who have the pleasure of their revelation

To swim deeply in those waters I aspire to communicate

To share is noble

To hoard is selfish

But if I hoard

I get more of these dreamtime fantasies I wish to propagate

Staying in the reservoir of my own soul

Fuck any god who may despair at my case

Beauty is what I crave

My beauty is mine

And mine alone


Or something

Is this the truth?

My mind feels no revelation

This is not what feels real

Just another layer of fallacy

Another satellite

Orbiting the truth

Never coming closer on its gravitational arc

Yet, not so far away from my nucleus

Maybe an intelligent man

Could find the measure of me

Using this disparity of my lies

But I am no such man

And I tell you,

It is not worth your time in bloom

To try to understand me

Rather, delve into your own mind

Those waters with endless depth


Better yet,

Make that art that must be real

That personally,

I am to imperfect to truly grasp


Or something

Yes, that is something

This feels real

Something to sink my teeth in

To devour


Again, it is not all true

Help me

help me

To be that man that I still want to be

To escape this disorganized cycle

Arrogance and despair

Despair and arrogance

Take away self worth

Realize you are nothing

An ant has the same validity

From the perspective of the closest star

As whatever our greatest accomplishments may be


It is true

Dark, dark, dark

The truth is dark

Yesterday and today,

Yet for tomorrow

May we look towards the future

That blank page

Those unchartered shores,

May we persevere together

Fight these waves

Illusion, delusion

Yet, partially,

Overwhelmingly real

May we fight like men

Men still in our prime

Gifted with the same natural virtues of our forebears

Perhaps more so

May we add to the litany

May we rise to the top of the peaks we idolize


And weep for

May we go there, and lay a thin sprinkling of dust

Adding nothing meaningful

Yet the same amount added as those before us

May we serve the future

No matter how imperfectly

Give them a fresh layer,

Imperceptibly higher,

Yet still, microscopically, a higher vantage point

And if it fails to sate,

A thin excuse for a noble life

Our effort will not be in vain

Perhaps that light dusting we laid

Will be the final critical layer

Or close to that critical layer

That will raise our descendants

To that fantastic revelation

That nirvana all dreams are made of

Where they will be lifted from the darkness

And for the first time

The very first time

See that ethereal  light of truth

In all her glory

Blue (poetry)

drifting out of place
wasn’t there somewhere we were supposed to go
wasn’t there something we were dreaming about

big open skys
still crowd my tired eyes
I remember something different then here
here is here is here is here
but where was I going to?
wake up, brush teeth, get dressed, make bed
blinds open
there is that blue sky
remembering running so fast
laughter in every part of me
was that ever me
was that yesterday or never

another day
another day
smile at the bus driver
thank you sir, thank you
walking to work
get coffee
small talk
what is it we are saying
what is it I’ve ever said
what is priority number one
I can’t really remember
what was I just saying?
I really can’t remember
everyone looking at me
fuck this
fuck what?
let me not break free
let me gather my thoughts
fuck you blue sky
get out of my dreams
you are not where I am
I am not where you are
it is not as it is
it is not as I remember
it is what it is
it is all that it is ever going to be
head held high

a moment of weakness
that shudder of a moment
sometimes, we all have moments of doubt
there are so many lives we are not living
yet, this is all we are. This one life.
This and only this.
Of course I wish I was someone else
Of course, I know that whoever I was
I would dream another dream
Lying on my back
Didn’t go to work today
Maybe it’s a holiday
Maybe, I just had to be human
Children playing over on the grassy field
Looking up at that big ol sky
Blue and blue and blue
So large
So large
I could fall into it
I could dream into it

Who am I again?
Who is it I was ever going to be?
What’s the difference?
Today let me fall into the sky
Let me be nothing else
Except exactly what I am

motherfuckingamie (poetry)



you tear my brain apart

memory on top of memory

and always that feeling of what we could have been


to say I love you is a lie

though I do love you

angel closest to my heart

but what I say is I could have loved you

as a man loves a god

or worships a woman

you are worth loving

you are worth loving


devil angel

closest to my heart

I wish you weren’t the one who I’ve made you

phantom of my subconscious

temptress who no longer tempts

you are not for me

you are not for me




how sadly unpoignant

these silly emotions

they fly through everyone

they mean nothing

because they are not special

a man loved a woman

and the woman disappears

what does one do with that emotion?

put it in a bottle

forget it



rub the bottle

and pray, if futilely

for a genie


there is an emotion here

how strange

when I thought all the passion was forgotten

how absurd

when I know that this emotion

is nothing but a bother

something that I pray I never share with you

but angelest precious

girl of my dreams

who I don’t even love

I don’t even worship

I don’t even want

I just know you are the girl of my dreams



Another Start (poetry)

this eternal feeling of fantasy

never knowing if we are lost in a dream

or just never brave enough to truly wake up

never knowing how to make peace with life’s decay

like that bright flower fading and falling in Autumn


another start

not because it’s needed

not because it’s wanted

everything that is to be said

has already been said

again and again and again

yet, what can be done?

we are still here

still full of passion

still words spring to lips

emotions embodied in hearts

say the words again

say these same words again

not because they are needed

not because they are wanted



they are simply the only words to be said

so say them again

while we are still here to hear them


finally reaching the end of torment

light shouting the dark tunnel is over

here, the deposed angel finally ascends

here, color is finally added to the starved palette

and, here, weeping at  a world that is too much to comprehend

there is only one desire left unquenched

for life to be less beautiful, less complex, less

less to make what you are more

less to make the world an easier ball to grab

less to be a bigger fish in a smaller pool

for the newly risen to fall below the clouds

to be in the darkness of the shadow of ignorance

wishing to ignore the wonders of reality

and praying for the simple serenity

of uncomplicated sleep

a monochromatic life

with a place for everything

and everything in its place


there has to be a right way to live life

there must be a right way to live life

there is a correct answer

there is a way to live a perfect life

to end this dream that encapsulates everything

this sleep that keeps us firmly away from heaven

slumbering in the drudgery of normal life

yes, please

yes, I pray


and yes

and yes

say: there is a way

a way to make peace

a reason to be here

a reason for existence

a reason to wake up from this sleep

a way to acknowledge the dark truths in our eternal hearts

you exist, don’t you, must you, please?


those weeping waves that buffet us at waking

the closest we come to shrieking consciousness

that waking scream of acknowledgement

buried so deep, but universally possessed

yes, balefully



and yes

this life is nothing

sleeping through life to escape the specter of life

in all her meaningless splendor

sleep until we disappear

to never exist again

this is truth

this is what we repress and fly from

this is the reason for the lifetime dream

to never acknowledge the most obvious truth

this is nothing

this life is nothing





we repress this

don’t we?

don’t we?

must we?

is there a real answer?

a yes or no to that baleful scream of humanity?

repress it

repress it

forget it

repress it

repress it

life or no life

all the same

degrading humanity’s greatest feats

to nothing but another grain of sand on the beach

or a galaxy in the sky


it is all the same

repress it

repress it


live in a dream

we were beautiful

maybe are beautiful

is that not something?


but it is all the same

somewhere in-between

there is mulch on the ground

there is a blooming flower

and then there is honey

so sweet

all we are

all we are

all we are


lost again

asleep again

safely dreaming

the map led nowhere

we have come here before

can we just call this somewhere home?

even if it is not the answer to prayer?

try to make peace

dreams of rainbows clouded by reality

or clouds of dreams drowning reality’s rainbow

here is where we are

here is where we stand

and here is all we have

until we dream deeper


starting again

over and over again

this feeling of perpetuality

these revolutions are infinite

were we not just here?

another nowhere?

have we become complacent?

do we trust what we have,

simply because we’ve always had it?

or have found it in our hands?

living a life without seeing our own decay

living a life chasing our tail

until, one day

after those we have touched

those we have loved

are ash on yesterdays wind

after we look at ourselves

after we still see that potential we imbue


the revolutions are not infinite

with or without ever waking from our dream

with or without truth

we will be dust on tomorrow’s breeze

a dream with no dreamer


Rwandatimes (poetry)

two lovelies

two characters

hands ready to catch a stumble

eyes always bumping

that look of love

that vision of perfection

it needs to have no meaning

it is not the reality

it is not real

but let’s fantasize

let’s be fantasy


in another life this could be real

we could call this normal

even the potential is still there

tantalizing us

yes, this life would be wonderful

but is this what we want

thinking that if we take all this

wondrous, yes



weighed against the endless joys

around that next unseen bend

how can we know,

that this is so perfect


another night of laughs

we can admit it, can’t we?

the times have been good



as we live them

we appreciate their inevitable demise

another dance coming quickly to conclusion

another journeys miles becoming finite

this present laughter

will soon join the chorus of laughter

of all those lives we’ve already lived

those chapters already ended

the past lives that were wondrous

yet those past lives, mournfully

they were not spent with each other


confronted by that ever  looming knowledge

the future lives we shall live

those future lives

full of different laughter

and different stories

that we will not spend with each other




while we still orbit each other

may I take the time to tell you a truth


appreciate the endless wonders of infinite

their permutations swirling, so close

yes, yet, always invisible

vainly, we seek to touch the ethereal

to reassure ourselves that life is real

but what is real?

its absence of physical substance

it will raid your soul

it will leave you hollow

don’t let it

breathe the air

of an ever enchanted reality

of an ever holy life

of the endless wonders of infinite


angel darling

the one who isn’t for me

though in some other life

in a different deck of cards

where things aren’t so different

perhaps just one card off

yet the entire pick is deranged

is calling you angel darling

so  fantastic?

this idealized wish

it is so close, just out of reach of the real

maybe even plausibly possible

yet to make this specific dream real

it must come at the expense of the wonderful present

to have the things I dream about

it would mean to not have the things I have

this life of mine

it is perfect

why do we second guess

what could have been

is exactly that

an acceptance of possibilities past

a bus never caught

a man never loved

it is not what is

it is not what isn’t

it is what we make of it

the acknowledgement of our compromises

those pleasant fantasies of a Saturday afternoon

coupled with that very real walk

arm in arm

in some nearby dimension

to hell with the possible

to hell with the fantastical

all I want

is whatever that is given me

and the ability to appreciate it

to love it

to ignore those day dream fantasies

to ignore these real life delusions


my friend,

lend me your life!

fly to the sun

accomplish the impossible

attain every dream


ignore Icarus,

that warning against greatness

that deity of the possible

it imbues fear

it breeds complacency

it makes us settle for the average

(that wretchedlovely average)

at the expense of the holy

fuck it

May the sun burn us

may our wings catch no more air

and lift us no closer to nirvana

may we plummet and perish

and with hope

may we be able to say

despite destruction

despite despair

despite Death

for a moment

we truly flew

we tried

we tried

and once we lose our fear

we can truly set about the hard work

of attaining that impossible nirvana

of finding what we thought was just a dream

our perfect lives


there is no secret

or at least, certainly,

the secret is not hidden


simply stop searching for beauty

those places you look

isolated pinpricks of light

in the majestic endless canvas of the sky

are only those spots

where you find those lush revelations

whose image you’ve already imagined the answer to

my question

my criticism


do those tangible things you search for

so long dreamed for

once found:

do they taste so different then your envisionment?

do they taste different then how your mind depicted them?

no, to me it is no



forsaken answer: no

the secret is

after many a wretched life wasted would regale

as soon as one comes to appreciate

ones endless periphery of vision

one comes to understand that life is endless

and endless wonders populate our infinites

look anywhere and see beauty

look somewhere you don’t expect beauty

and what you will see

i promise you

is that unexpected beauty

That I pray for you to appreciate

that sublime wonder

that every atom

and every star

teems with



we must applaud

that sublime starry equation

that work of art that we are

that work of art we are becoming


now separate

we must applaud

those endless perfections

of the true gods vision

life is about choice

life is about variables

to change one choice

to change one variable

is to change the hegemonic whole

to want a small thing different

is to want the whole different

such a thing is unfathomable

but this current day

it feels right

why change

a perfect present




may we truly chat

one on one

mano a mano

may I tell you what I think

and finally let myself

listen to that subtle spirit

living forever in my chest

that feel deep inside me

which will forever be associated with your name

i wish that spirit would talk inside me forever

i wish the impossible, sadly



i will say

i will say to you

what beauties the world is full of

their overwhelming multitude

we are not prepared to understand

watch life everywhere

truly:  try,

but can one really see?

every ever blooming flower

so close

every flitting smile

on some young passing girl

whose lovely progenitor

never enters your mind.

we never understand

we do not understand any of this

we are swimming through the seas of life

just struggling to stay afloat

just struggling to do our very best

and know,

that while I do not know why

for awhile

while I was here,

with you

in that time that no longer exists

or is at least quickly fading

I did not care

we were together

we were the universe

and for a time

it was enough

life was alive

and to say we laughed

it may be enough

it may have to be enough

we will disappear

we may never see one another again

but we were

and to be

to truly be

is enough

Sweet Delusions (poetry)

I, hurt myself today, to see if I still feel, focused on the pain, the only thing that’s real

Nice legs, want to fuck

Be wild
Throw out convention
Be bad
Find a bed
Fall into wild love
Never leave
Make each other exist
By being one flesh
Chase the nightmares away
By being one flesh
It’s a nice fantasy isn’t it?
An empty feeling
Focused on the pain, the only thing that’s real
What was your name again?
Do you know my name?
An empty feeling

Nice eyes,

Can we fall into love
Peer into each others forever soul
Know each other
Be stronger for being together than seperate
I need you
And oh my god
Is it true? Maybe you need me?
Could we need each other?
Fight the vacancies of the world
Our fears
Our boredums
Can we be more?
Can we be more for being together?
Can we be in love?

It’s a nice fantasy isn’t it
Cannot lightning strike
Oh I know it will hurt
I know I am unready
But a lifetime of darkness for that brief moment of light
That brief moment of happiness
The allure that it can be forever
To be with those eyes forever
That uncomplicated love
Which our own weakness steals from ourselves
I hurt myself today
I hurt myself today

Girl with confidence,

Can you make me exist?
Can we talk and talk and talk
Tear the world apart with childish whimsy
Yes, let us be stronger for what we are together
Yes, let us be able to do anything
As a team
As we
We can do anything

It’s a nice fantasty, isn’t it
To find the missing piece
To not be so terrifically alone
Stare into the void
Stare into the void
And nothing stares back at you
The missing piece comes from ourselves
See if I still feel
Why should such things bother a man?
Put ourselves under the weight of chasing love
That ghost, that killer, that demon
That lie, that truth
Such heaviness, these grey hairs in my beard, these lines around my eyes
Self hatred
I hurt myself
I hurt others
Strange, that to prick yourself with a pin
Have a drop of blood
Others are devastated by your pain
Yet, if you hate yourself
And you smile
Others want to be you
A prayer for metamorphoses, for transformation
To shed our heaviness, our weight, our lead sould
To become the lightness of a butterfly
We should just be lightness
Float high
Past ourselves
Care less
And be
and be
I don’t know who I am
I don’t know who I am
But I am trying to love myself
I am starting to believe
That maybe I am worth being loved