Well, I'm listening.

.
.
.
.
.

my shadow
that which shows me to
the direction of the sun
that which is loyal
and true
in all this noise and
chaos
this storm that swirls
relentless
in your eyes
it's the calm and the silence
it's the shadow
not the darkness
it follows and
leads

with it
no matter where I am
I am always home

9/17/08

.
.
.
.
.

my heart
in it's infinite wisdom
has decided to be
an open house
to the homeless
and lovely

if you seem overwhelmed
or not at ease
breath deep and true

I will never leave your soul
if it doesn't want to be left

my heart
infinitely wise
decided
no promise would be broken
all who sought shelter
would be taken
and those who were angry
loving only the fire
would find me
defenseless

and combustible.

I wanted so desperately
to write something profound
so you would feel the way
I see you

my words
will always fall short
with pretty's definitions
because mirrors don't show
the beauty
in souls

8/27/08

rain falls on the discarded
the crazies mumble meaninglessly
her tan is fake
so are her breasts
the ACLU guys solicit like street telemarketers
"can I have a few moments of your time?"
these Indian girls work hard for their minimum wage
across the street the punk rock girl sells leather, condoms, lingerie, and sex toys
everyone carries or pulls a bag with something in it. (maybe their burdens)
the skinny jeans and short skirts are horrendous
the city feels like a sauna
rain is distributed evenly, on the: jocks, punks, homeless, nerds, emos, chumps, and weirdos
it's evident to me -
that amid the ill conceived tattoos, over the top ear plugs and piercings
this place may have once been
what it is trying so hard to be now

right now it just fails
between the dirt
and the corporate take over
it's no wonder
that these fuckers
are all so confused
do you love me
or am I among the discarded
will life make it through
this dirty concrete
and will any of this survive?

unnerving silence
forget me
these candy walls
are nothing
these words are swallowing reason
and my blank skies
are screaming -
feed us an enemy
they say.

twisted blue and obvious
I hear them
but won't whisper the sound
lie down
in the summer grass
almost naked
and the children will see

this flock of birds
was doomed from the beginning
and our future here
is melting quickly
at both ends

08/11/08

For a boring "work shot" I rather like how this one turned out.

.
.
.
.
.

you don't know
the meaning
of the word

if you did
you wouldn't forget
so easily

your promises
would have been
a little less hollow

my mark
a little less erasable

my voice
a little more
heard

7/09/08

what if the world was an alley under the train tracks
and the sidewalks and between paths
were not the way
and the dirty and forgotten
in betweens
were ways to get to where
we really need to be

if this is not the truth
if this is not the way
then why are they empty
like us
crowded on roads
looking to find our way

7/26/08

.
.
.
.
.

the ocean is vast
it always has been
I feel it
the size is overwhelming
only this time
in this instance
I am floating
not drowning
and the current
has me thinking
that before
when I let my soul feel older
things were always
so much deeper
so much colder
and instead of just being okay
with drifting
I felt this need
to be swimming
and that is why
I met you tired
and alone.

thank you
for your warm tides
thank you
for your gentle swells
thank you
for taking me with you.

7/21/08