Beyond the fear of

the feeble maybe

is anything.

What do you choose?


Do you foresee a darkness?

What shall it mean?



it will cover you when

you feel blinded by the sun.


you will lay in the damp,

dark dirt of the earth

and call it all a blessing.


this shadow will lead you to light.


it’s all bullshit.


We always

decide our


What do you choose?

Bending Space

Just a soft toke of smoke,

a mellow sound from a humming horn

bending space with waves of grace.


And you retrace your face

back to the top,




Let silence take over for a change.

In life, there are these moments

when no one knows what

to do.


It’s always best to find a seat

and listen to the beat for a bit.

And Get Back in rhythm with





Lost in the static that is the sound and the fury,

fearful of being the idiot, alone to play with obscurity. 

There are a few fleeting moments of despair,

where the air is crisp with truth and a cold chill.

We used to listen together.


I am still here, awaiting another.

Heavy with the mourning of what is to pass and what has gone away.

It’s nameless presence is taking form right before our eyes.

And what is life but these moments that move like the wind?

Nothing and gone again.


My friend, I wonder how these words touch you now?

Now that this season has changed it’s meaning.

Do you still wallow with decay and drink with the trains?

Do you still laugh at all the rules and shamelessly portray the fool?

Your shoulders holding those stories that need telling.


I think of you often during this time of the season,

and it warms my heart, whatever the reason.

If I should fall through the cracks, please don’t clap or crack a joke

or blow smoke to prove your worth.

There is only beauty here.

Do you know what that means?


If I should forget, forgive me.

Beyond memory, there is an innate knowing.

This is the place.

Have you been there?

If I should leave, please know I’m not leaving you.

Amongst all the lawns and leaves we lied in,

there is love everlasting. Shooting out of the past

and back into the center of itself.

Beyond our world.


And then,

once again, everything is clear.

There is only beauty here.

There is only beauty here.

I’ve come to this page without words to pour.

I’ve come with this pen that can’t write anymore.

I’ve come here unsure of what it is to say.

I’ve come knowing that there’s no other way.

I’ve come lost and broken and beaten down.

I’ve come with my heart full and my feet on the ground.

I’ve come here and they’ve turned me away.

I’ve come here and I’ve wanted to stay.

I’ve come here and I’m always looking for you.

And you come to me and say, “I love you.”

Connecticut River

Death be just as a river flow,

It never cease, but at times moves slow.

It can hasten in nights of heavy rain,

And dry up in days of drought.

It can stream through rocks and hollow trees,

What be it a river about?

And the damming of things as they be,

does nothing to change the inevitability.

There is a movement to life that lives only in water,

like the love in a father for his only daughter.

Death be just as a river flow,

and the end be when we reach the sea.

Where we meet again with who we are

and together, as one, who we will always be.

I can’t look for you,

you’re not there.

I can’t touch you

you live in the air now.

But I can feel you

if I keep my heart open.

And you will


live on

through the way

I love others.

The way you taught me.


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