09.12.2023
Where does the sky come from?
What makes it blue?
How does it change colors in the night,
then return to its regular hue?
Is it only time and seasons
that contributes to such change?
Is it so simple to be so drastic,
for it to rearrange?
Blue, black,
covered, then clear.
The sky remakes itself each time,
to be the color it should appear.
03.06.2022
When morning hues
dance in the sky,
when rising warmth
comes in from the night,
both sharing one –
light. A common ground,
hovering above.
Failing is common for
our kind, we are nothing
but products of two —
randomness, luck..
life happening to strike.
Secretly, I wish for
less. With more you expect
life to be bountiful. Always failing
to see what you have, always wishing
for something else.
12.21.2021
then, you bet on systems
trusted the holy word
spare any concern from important
business, too many emotions
complicate what has been established
comfortable.
it is only when She starts shaking
releasing all that has been burning
in Her mind, it is only when
She lays curses out for you,
that you lift your head to listen.
now, you see
what was thought
impossible stands tall and true:
you are surrounded by crumbles of
Nothing and Everything, the world you’ve known
gone.
She has finally split Her life in two,
a before and after, without you
bearing witness.
then, nothing mattered, and only
now, everything became meaningless.
09.2020
fever dream
I burn alive, here
residuals laying at my feet, I consider
waste — What summons
understanding Waking is
less-than-simple work, the ash complicates
restoration. — In smoked fistfuls I find
torn cloth, sprawled on my palms
splitting ends, there is no weaving with
what is left. The only evidence of
Life now calloused, I blink into a
New mourning.
…
Here, I burn alive
I consider residuals laying at my feet.
—
What summons waste
Waking is understanding.
The ash complicates less-than-simple work.
—
In smoked fistfuls I find restoration
Sprawled on my palms, torn cloth.
There is no weaving with splitting ends.
The only evidence of what is left.
I blink into a Life now calloused.
New mourning.
07.20.2020
in response to ‘sleep’ - hiroshi yoshimura
aliens
and space and the colors you see when your eyes close and there’s only dark and splotches of burning and hearing the inner rhythms and rhythm and rhythm will not stop until sleep lasts longer than a couple hours and ghosts and ghosts sharing space and sharing the want for sacredness and safety and safety only in our dreams and begging for unconscious but conscious where
world makes more honest where lying is only laying for rest where you can hear nothing where becauses are less thought out where freer life lives in another plane where the plane’s less level where orbiting doesn’t mean
space
and aliens and music that plays to your rhythms and your breath and no quiet here and no quiet ever and only good noise and biting down and spilt blood and split lip and an armful of white lines and that one day and accidents and staring at shedding blood turned thick white ropes snaking on my arm and curiosity and white rope noise and even the rope made noise and staring
aliens
and space and mouth wide open and knowing no quiet so long as there are
aliens
and space
and white ropes existing
and the knots wrapped in rhythms of aliens and space and
06.14.2020
june 14th was the day after june 13th
june 14th was the 14th day of june
june 14th was a day in june
but now you have her
and she has you.
tuck the hair behind her ear,
look at what you’ve made.
a new face among a sea of regular skins,
with familiar eyes only you can recognize
you met her before anyone else.
she’s the cure for all the aching
life brought you.
with a smile that heals the heart.
the greatest gift she is,
given on a june 14th.
june 14th was the day after june 13th
june 14th was the 14th day of june
june 14th was a day in june
but now you have her
and she has you,
both of you now sharing
the 14th of june.
07.20.2020
nomad is mad at no one but nomad self
nomad moves forward
nomad wants nomad more
than to drink some water
and wash old nomad’s feet
”tsk tsk tsk”
nomad says
”there’s no rainwater for nomad
to drink
to cleanse
to sleep in”
“oh well”
thinks nomad
nomad keeps walking anyways
because nomad’s got nowhere to go
but forward
to nomad’s no home