After-hours

yellow.
out on first base.
burlap.
hit that.
issue the afterlife.
guilt.
i think i did it.
endless cycle.
failure.
but.
confusion.
twisting licorice.
red or black.
underdog.
underscore.
underwhelmed.
under the bridge.
button up.
equal to.
greater than.
fear.
stumble under.
a pebble.
run.
from the present.
give.
a fairytale.
a bedskirt.
purple.

Generate Wind Power

If I chase my tail long enough I still will never catch it. And the sad part is, you catching it doesn't count. I have to do it. By myself. And take full responisbility for the action and the outcome. Perhaps the point is the chase and not the catch? But then why is there no satisfaction in the chase?

I hope this is a mood swing.

I am blown around by the possibilities. "I wish I could octa-major." Then I would never have to be definitive. I would never have to figure out that one thing that I truly wanted from my life. Who knows their own strengths? Who can tell them? When there are six eligible paths and limited money or ability to follow more than a few, which should you choose? They all smell good.

Oh for a red, flashing, neon light slash arrow. Thank you have a great day.

Pile on the Bricks

By definition, I will not turn. By choice I square the circle. There is a rush for substance. Unfortunately I only pretend something is ever happening. Everyday after my own heart mocks me. A mood swing of obedience to the swath of covering that holds my naked being. Ironically I return to the cold.

Darkness is not absence of light but the clear and present desire for light. A hunger.

My reason does not return to me. The gift of a busy and filled life is no gift at all.

Tear down the gravestone you have built to honor what God has helped you kill.

A child could count your graces.

Circles

Revolutions encounter revolutions. Change brings out the dust. One lifetime risking bankrupcy. The debris settles and the mites in the wind choke the clearing of the eyes. A cough on wisdom. Who of us needs peace?

One Dark Room

Love demands my life. Love demands my soul, my all. Love is the only shocking act, the only surprisingly new feeling in the universe. True love changes who you are. Love is change.

Reaction equals change.

Love makes you sob in awe and wonder. Love makes you laugh with joy and pleasure.

Shape.

Love clothes me. Love purifies me, for it is the opposite of apathy. If love flavors my life then others will smell its sweet breath on my lips.

Big, wet, trusting eyes.

I stretch out my hand in the darkness as Evil wheezes its foulness upon my fingers. Though tears of fear stream down my cheeks and my body is rigid with concealed trembling and the knowledge of evilness impedes the liklihood of rescue, You grab my hand.

Here. The trust that overcomes the willingness to be consumed by the inevitable.

at the end of the day i am just one more day older

The sun rises in a smile. The cresent of waxing light. The wind through my window. The smile of a friend. The new friend i make. The old friend i hug. The beauty of the glowing.

Good intentions all along. A phone call. A voicemail. A text. A phone call. Everything changes in the blink of an eye.

Life is a circle. It bends in directions, it promises new adventures, but at the funeral of the day, you sit at the same window and smile into the sun even when the shadows are strong.

This is about change. This is about moving. Forward, backward, sideways, it all hurts. It requires thought. Stillness. Solitude. Close the door on the loud hallway and sit.

Nostalgia

Naturally the melody rings in my head. My face hides nothing. My words are real. Everything was truth. And the rain still falls.

Mostly because of where we are. Mostly because of what they said. Mostly because I need to sleep.

And baby cries the day away.