Shorts sweet

Scoot over, you
let’s take a load off
talk some talk
’bout the things we’re always meaning to talk about
but just don’t find the time

Take a second
put your arm around my shoulder
and we’ll say all the things
we always needed to hear
so sit down, talk smack, lay back
relax, you’re among friends

and friends don’t mind
taking a little time
for friends.

I’m on the brink.

At any moment

at any time in the day
I am standing on the brink
I wander near the cliff’s edge
I wander closer, closer.

What’s wrong with me?
What disease riddles my mind
but the human condition
of being alive long enough
of thinking enough thoughts so as
to drown in them.

It takes all my will power
to pull myself back
to hold myself down
like a beast with red eyes
waiting for the right moment
to strike, to break free.

By those words alone, I’m on the brink.

Let’s try this again

Let’s face the facts
when I walk into a crowded room
and turn my back on the door
I keep my eyes to the floor
I head straight to corner
’cause?
’cause that’s where I belong.

Under the shade of a shadowed tree
when I hide outside in the green grass
amongst the bristling of the bush’s leaves
and there I could remain
for how long?
I’ve lost count.

I’ve walked the straight and narrow before
and I’ll follow that path again
when the time comes
pick kick strip myself up off the dirty ground
stumble back to the place where I belong
which remains to be better
than the place I was before.

How does that sound?
we’re trying, I’ll say, at least
there’s a hope in a light rising
from the darkest of the longest
of night.

Rudimentary thoughts

What is left of the romantic trapped in my mind.

What are the thoughts running through my mind, and how can i ever let them escape.
Are words enough?

What are these questions that run endlessly through my mind.

I feel an extreme need to express myself, yet I feel utterly fatigued by my inability to let loose the images and ideas which run endlessly through my mind. These thoughts contain such great potential, to become creations of epic proportions.

Yet I feel fatigued before the project can ever begin, before the creation can ever manifest. Also it is as though these thoughts and ideas are too great for the world of the flesh. They exist in another dimension, entirely.

And what about these feelings which endlessly bombard my mind and cloud my thoughts? What about these feelings which often seem too immense and like s great weight upon my shoulders? I am the cursed Atlas, doomed to hold the weight of the world uppn my shoulders. For when I am presented with a problem as great as the war of the worlds, I can only acknowledge that I have no power. Or my power is so minuscule, equal to that of an ant. I cannot save the people of this world, I barely understand how to save myself. Even the concept of self worth ever eludes me. I cannot save people from killing each other.

I don’t understand love or pain or anger. I don’t understand hatred. Though I brag about the depth of my emotional intelligence, I myself share as much emotion with another human being as a scared dog would share with a stranger. I’m scared of getting injured both mentally and physically. I am scared of never feeling. I am scared of a life unlived. Yet I find myself frightened to step outside my door. I am a walking contradiction.

What if my heart is full of love? What if I can never find the right person to share my love with? What if that person will never exist?

I grasp at things, grasping with tiny hands at straws. The answers slip my fingers like fish. The metaphors crawl from my eyes like worms. I see my life at a distance and yet I see it too close, as if looking through a microscope and all these things confuse me. I search the world for answers. I ask others what they think about life but they often don’t know any more than I do. In fact, the person who is most at home in this world of the unknown is the person who does not wonder, who does not dream, but who accepts their limited knowledge with grace. They accept the blinders placed on their eyes, they do not look to the left or to the right but continue on the straight and narrow path set before them like a faithful work horse. And there is nothing wrong with being a work horse. But I was not ever this way, I do not know how to be this way, I will never know how to be this way.

The petty problems of the carnal world endlessly assault my mind from every angle, distracting me. As if I could actually figure out the way of the spiritual world if I was left to my own devices. Yes, I am an explorer of every aspect of this world which intrigues me. And every thing intruges me, absolutely everything. But if only I had alll the time in the world to sit and think about things. But my mind is like a drunken monkey, endlessly running around making noises and breaking things. It is as if the only time I find for myself, I waste by drowning myself in endless excuses. Yet even when I am occupying my time in a seemingly worthy manner, the futility of it all feels crushing. The futility of life weighs heavy on my mind. Heavier than a 600lb lady eating a cheeseburger on mars.

I have to learn to find the humor in it all. There I go again, letting the gravity of serious thoughts wash over my mind. I am a super hero, after all. I am. I am a smiling wolf in human skin. I am the lazy astronaut. I am sleepy.

If only this run on sentence could continue into eternety. After I allow all these words to spill from my head, there are still too many more inside me which are feeling trapped abd swarming to be released.

How does one ever release these words?
I was feeling better with yoga. I was feeling more whole, more able to take on the world. I’ve never had tre discipline to take on yoga, but I think yoga could unlock a higher level of my mind which contains serenity and peacefulness I have yet to experience. And perhaps someday I will find the marvelous unity which I know exists somewhere inside my spirit, the unity of the arts. Because I can not simply choose one and ignore the rest. I love music and I cannot simply appreciate it without creating it myself. I cannot cease to draw the images in my head, for they come alive on paper. And no matter what, I cannot stop or silence the words inside my mind which have the potential to become poetry on the page. Words are very powerful, like super powers. And the pen is always mightier than the sword, but having a sword is still pretty awesome.

green thoughts

sitting among the grass and the weeds
my thoughts turn so green
sitting beneath a clear blue sky
with a cool breeze like a gentle sigh
i wonder how my thoughts could ever be
darker than the shadow i sit beneath
the world spins round again
Spins me upside down in my head again
till i come around full circle
spattered out on the ground 
hope my heart will make it right
hope my soul won’t let me lose this fight
we’re living in the here and now
and right now
i’m sitting among the grass and the weeds
just listening to the finch birds sing
wondering how long these green thoughts
will last

wolf’s answer

if my soul’s ready
then this love i will partake
if my soul is brave enough
than this life I will stay

if the world catches on fire
from my cave I will walk
into the bright and bursting flames
where the stars conspire to knock

i will carry on into the night
and past into an eternal dawn
the awakening of my mind’s light
the tearing down of my wall’s drawn on