Posts Tagged ‘avery wellman’

In offset places

there are spaces that reflect a land beyond time,

like faces on a lake of light can shine.

Sometimes it is faint,

the subtle saint that sings softly in your ears

and the paint of a picture becomes quite clear.

We all await

a mate who offers themselves sweet and complete,

but fate at times is only luck, a love lived discreet.

Deep beyond time

and what’s mine and what’s yours and what’s true

is a limitless line of light reaching out to you.

You are burning

and learning and loving and living,

you are earning and dying and trying and giving.

You are more near,

when you embrace your fear, to what is real

and dear to the infinite collective of how we love

and how we really, truly feel.




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There is an emptiness flowing here,

a bottomless pit

born and bred by the loneliest of the lonely.

A rabbit hole filled with florescent lights

and dead flowers.

Makeup plastered like dry dirt.

And everyone is dancing and smiling

and acting like fools

And all of them want you to know

that they couldn’t care less.

All of the colors are blinding,

but everyone’s mind is wide awake.

They are all trying to escape


in the hope to experience some new

found feeling of freedom,

but most of them just settle for some kind of

cheap release.

And there is a sadness in this showing

by what is being told through the cries and the lies

and the heartache that oozes from their eye sockets

like some invisible emotional river

not seen, but deeply felt. And shared.

But this isn’t a place of caring and sharing.

This is a display of the avoided darkness,

all for the sake of dramatics.

The pull-in.

Everything is fake.

Everything will break.

It is not with hearts that these hands have

carved out a creation

but with the fears of their own desires.

A world is on fire

but everyone is having such a good time,

aren’t they?



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In the dust of the deserts

and the sands of the seas

and deep in the dirt of the earth

resides all that is left over

from those that let their dreams die.

All the lives that have been lived

from a place of fear.

A fire that was not harnessed

but instead hurt and harmed.

And they fade away so slowly now,

taking their time,

these lives hardly lived.

While we all have a destiny,

we don’t all always live it.

In fact,

most of us don’t.


when you take of your sandals

and feel the soft sands of the beach

underneath your feet

and breath in the ocean air

and celebrate in its vastness,

honor too who you walk over.

Who you walk amongst.

Your destiny is not determined

solely by your existence

but instead from your courage

to love everything

in spite of your fears.

You must hold the fire in your hand.

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Hell bent to break

the holding and the folding

of these worn and weathered hands.

A forlorn feeling settles in like

a grey cloud casting its darkness.

And in this moment

the land that I love


the land that I live on

turns from a friend

to a foreigner.

An enemy. An alien.

An ending.

And it is here that I always seem to turn on myself-

and I create from my oneness,


to point my shame at.

It is here that I make the same mistake

again and again.

And it is here that this land

drowns in a downpour

of my own pain.

Hated and self-created

by myself, for myself, to myself.

Off in the distance I can hear a voice

that lingers like the lilting forests of my childhood.

I hear it clearer

as I close my eyes.

I am the storm

and the stillness.

I am the rain

and the cleansing.

I am the forgetting

and the remembering.

I am the beginning 

and the unending.

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Under the shade of a tree I sit.

Suspended between its shadows

and this perpetual organic life.

All around me a world is dancing.

A red carpet seat has been set out

for all of us to see.

The infinite cosmic unraveling

is always happening.

In each of us there exists

a part and a place

between all things.

Between them,

and beyond them too.

An exit and an entrance.

An opportunity.

A new beginning.

Right now, I am covered and cooled

by a welcoming tree

giving its shadow away

to me for free.

And here I can see the sun

and how it gives us too what we need

just like this shade tree with its singing leaves.

The infinite cosmic unraveling

is always happening

and it is always offering an opportunity

to see the balance that inhabits everything

and the harmony that hums below it all

like a soft, steady bass drum.

Like a heartbeat.

Play on

and on

and on.

The infinite cosmic unraveling

is always happening.


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What if the words we create

have everything to do with what we see

and how we experience this life?

What if the ways we have learned to love

have the ability to shape and shift

our own sense of reality?

What if our minds are just an operating system

left asleep or on some sort of autopilot,

awaiting for an awakening of an endless amount of senses?

What if we have the ability

to be everything beyond the limitations

we create?

What if our barriers are invisible,

our dreams boundless,

our spirits blinding in brightness?

What if this space is a place of vastness,

filled up with the crystallized stardust of our past

and the untold blackness of the future?

What if it is all available to us?

It is no wonder that we often smother ourselves

in stories and shames.

It is this responsibility, this gift,

that can be as much a burden

as a beauty.

It has everything to do

with how we choose to

move to the music

that makes up our lives.

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In the passing parade

a girl smiles.

I stop and take a

moment to marvel.

On center she waves,

beaming her love light.

A soul unafraid

in an otherwise scared

passing parade.

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