a tiny instrument of nature.
the thing that causes itching tendencies.
is crawling on the backs of all of us.
whose itching to do something right now?
tell your crush you like him…
break a bone…
cut your hair and dye it a different color?
you may think you are minuscule
but you are worth more
than you may think.…[Read more]
who is easygoing in this world?
the people who have gone around the world
are they the ones who understand it all?
the drama and the breakups,
and people beating themselves up?
does anyone understand why the sun shines,
and the next minute its quite dreary and dark..
take me to someone who is easygoing..
I could use the help.
flipped like a pancake.
into the sea of life.
tumbling over my own feet,
as I see is what’s ahead of me.
I want to be flipped upside right,
rather than straight towards the sun..
it’s so bright!
all up in the light I don’t know if my journey really is done.
I am incomplete without you.
you are my voice,
my confidence that the world is still a good place.
you are almost home…
I don’t think I can wait
it’s making me feel giddy to see you
and I can’t control my laughter
and you really do relax me…
you are amazing.
brotherhood sticks together
like two halves of bread
when peanut butter and jelly are stuck together
they go together like brothers.
thinking of my brother…
I miss him more than I did before he visited
I want him to come back…
I would like to take a snapshot
and keep it forever.
this desolate barren land.
cracked underneath my feet,
sending shivers down my spine
as I walk along this one thin line.
from the count of ten.
looking about me.
all I see is openness,
the beautiful ocean way off in the distance,
and the trees shadowing my face,
within all of this space.
casting calls today!!
yells the director as he pulls up a seat.
he calls out the next nervous hopeful,
and as the shaking teenager walks out on stage…
the lights go dark.
and out at sea you see sails
lighting up the dark undertones of
signed yours truly.
the effortless pen and paper glide together
in un-amassed fluidity.
bruising the surface
as their words puncture the soul.
as the words piece together
as a story is formed
want to bees,
fill this empty page with faceless memories
containing pain and sorrow
reminds me of the pope for some odd reason.
something to rub yourself clean,
of all the little impurities of life.
the dirt under your fingernails rinses clean,
the nitty gritty in your hair just seems to seep away
and all that’s left is a sparkle of…
to simplify one’s life is to simply…
fizz out into nothing.
to extract a small sample
of the life of the soul.
who is to say that your life is to complex?
too rough around the edges?
and yet just filled to the top of the glass…
who just doesn’t get you?
who you are is nothing more than a few grains to simplify..