Everything after

It comes up like cracks in the ice, with sudden realization of trouble and worry.  Scrabbling back, run rabbit. What will you with the day about to come?  What was your course? What have you done?  Have you wrought marvels you indeed sought?  I molder with sun and rains all undone an autumn long past.

spring cleaning

I Don't have these shakes anymore
feel it like fits and cigarettes
I Don't remember your face anymore
but apothecary paths all the same

Forgot the sour rush and falling
Before I'm gone and he escapes
I hear him giddy in the orbits
of chemicals keep him enclosed.

Everybody have a good time

today is not for this desk nor the indoors.  today is better outside windows down music loud.  It seems made for stops at forgotten shops I prowled in my youth. It rings with the call of backwoods roads and driving fast.  Cellphone thrown out the window solitude for idle hours.  Everything impromptu! Surprise dinner with friends and spur of the moment movies.  Youth creeping back in the spine and smiles that come without warning.  Bowling alleys and wild Whitesnake songs on the radio.  Some night years past recaptured though you weren't even trying.  Dark rides home lit up bright by a moon that seems too big for the sky.  Calavaras, San Felipe and Hicks all on the same night!  Trucks giving chase and drivers with pale skin and eyes.  Silly laughing kids caught up with some stupid joke you said, that only you can say right. 

I palindrome I

I saw my twin yesterday walking down the street.  he was a heavy guy with my same shoes and jeans.  I have the shirt he was wearing in my closet.  I guess that isn't such a coincidence considering all fat guys shop at the same big and tall store.  His hair was mine from a couple of hears ago before it started thinning, so good on him, but the beard oh god so conventional nothing like my triple horseshoe.

It was striking really, why was he/I walking?  I mean we are lazy we don't walk, what the fuck?  Don't you have a car, we love driving around don't you remember.  Are you even listening to metal in those head phones you fuck why are you walking so serene we aren't serene.

I just wanted to role down the window and say, "it doesn't get much better?"  but what if he is the happy version of us oh my god!  Is that even possible?  Does he feel connected to people and act gregariously.  Its like there is a wrong version of me living just down the street.  What am I going to do.  I don't know if this town is big enough for me and happy fucking Jim.

I am no messanger

I find myself at a loss.  The world I arrive at today is not to my tastes and the one I would want is to no one Else's.  I see us moving to this guiltless society of self interest.  Hungry and greedy we accept ideas that render us a machine of selfish genes, so we are no longer culpable. We slowly turn anyone who stands up and says no into a bigot or fool.  Even if they do its slander or lies and all our laws protect us from someone who would speak out with justice.  Our laws and justice sit in opposition we have come so far.  This would drives around childish wants that look only to the outside.  There is no inner no silent no North.  There is no stoic. Be strong and useful, generous and committed.  Intractable in loyalty when it is earned and met out evil with a just hand.  No longer stand but push back and when they tell how you have been wrong say we are not that anymore.  Don't let your words be the wind through straw and burlap, shout them out loud.

Growing on me

Have you ever seen something right down to its soul and thought I don't need that?  That is the renunciation people are talking about.  It doesn't happen when you think I don't need stuff but some people will try to tell you that is the way.  It's when you look at something and understand it and yourself.  You look at the thing and feel no I don't want to be the sort person who is of it.  I don't want a telescope as I am not an astronomer or I don't want drum I am not a musician.  This is parity of knowledge.  Knowledge of self and knowledge or the item.  Let me ask how you are going to understand self and outside connections without feeling those connections to begin with.  Then go beyond and figure out what you want to be, I bet you should get the tools of that job or hobby.  Materialism is not bad if you understand yourself and what you mean to do with these things. 

Night feels late in the year

These snapshots are at my worse.  The nagging moments where I am holding back falling apart.  Maybe even the rowing moments where one looks up and thinks this being?  With sharp moments of perception that cut at the softness of letting yourself be one of the crowd. The times you think I happier just being a scarecrow in the field, unexamined and content to be apart of the place.  Worry is like a worm that gnawing at the strings and I don't know what I'll be when they break. 

I still believe (grand design)

there is a trap i would walk out of but must instead spring shut.  a cold hard iron cutting through the skin and the worrisome blood afterward.  Dripping on the carpet threatening a stain. A matter that nags down the moments and reminds me they have past.  Its like the watered down troubles must be met for the teeth and concrete ones to be muddled through.  Give me some escape for the all sides snares are all around.  A happy forgetful day, but even so that's gone to fast and I am back in it.  Burn down the scarecrow shut out my voice, but make it right.

Great Gig in the Sky

I'm struggling and its got through me.  From the ins to all my outlets the work suffers.  Not some other minded summer malaise but a down to the bones hollow that finds no core.  No center of magnetism to be acted upon and thrust this way or that.  Just through and through empty.  An authentic abscess to be welled up with worry and dread.  Swept up and given in to the sea, nevermind control of the moment, it's the rough water ahead that worries.  White knuckle hanging on to hands sinking beneath the water. Calm, Part, Swim, Please!

The Living Years

This doesn't let up it just goes forward and when you can get off your right back and the end of whatever diversion you mustered up.  It's turned my angers to back burner slow slimmer and my fears on full boil.  I can't be myself and I don't even know if I am that guy anymore.  It's forced growth in the weakest most fragile bits of the soul.  The mild adulthood everyone walks into thrust directly on our plate, double helping.  You want a minute to run and ever then its somehow back of the mind, worrying the moment like a  light left on.  Its your own doubt brought up to terror that burns in all your blood.  Its wrongness made physical twitching ruin running wild. It's friend that don't talk to deep forced to the core of matters.  The thoughts and wisdom shoved into light and you talk about it, when there was once just a road and some music.

Never squat down and crane your neck when your picture is taken

Choke back the ambivalence and listen dear. In truth this is all easy to understand.  You take it on your own in a few days, I am not saying anything to change your world.  I only want to give it to you a little earlier than it might have come on it's own. 

There is no need of yours to be other than you are.  There is no need to pretend yourself until your are just like everyone else.  No one has it figured out, every bit they say is bravado and bits they have been fed.  They are the words of youth coming from inexperience masking as wisdom.  Mostly rationalizations of dull eyed hedonism.

Your path won't be mine and that is probably best.  I have taken a hard road at a high price.  I decided long ago a set of values and worth for the world.  The thing about any measure is the first unit is always arbitrary.  The scale of things is objective but that first one never is.  Its light through a vacuum in a second or a kings knuckle bone.  For me  it was the dog, and people never measure up to a lofty standard like that. 

Your unique and authentic self is all I ask of you.  Sure try to be good but that's going to come natural or not.  Some will be taught some will come from culture.  But best I can say is go a little out of your way to help be a little bit bothered.  If you would be derailed then don't.  It would be worse if you do.  But what do I know I am just a scarecrow.

pipers checking their watches

There isn't much I know seeping out right now. NO grains working in fields of words that I can harvest and put forth for you. No desperate grasp and drive but there is worry.  Worry that's got under my skin and doesn't know where to go.  but not in my words, it falters there.  Hiding behind the emotions it's dragging up, silent.  I want to shake it out, give in a be done with it. Nothings letting go its sitting inside like a wasp nest.  swarming out angry.  Change and fear crawling on top of all.  In the folds of the fabric the bugs make their homes. slowly devouring the scarecrow silent though he speaks.

Carrie

Little one I am sorry for these fears. I am sorry you have doubt when you are so young.  I always wanted to give you sure footing but the world isn't that way and to you it is cruel. It has decided to acquaint you early with sorrow that it shouldn't.  There are some sad lives that live one happy all their days, that will look on us bewildered when we speak.  The winch you and I will give knowing pain will not be something they will understand. Perhaps you will sit aside feeling odd and alone as I have.  Somehow unbelieving at how they can't understand. 


A few words written for my daughter.  She will not understand now but maybe when she is older and more able to understand what she feels it will have more meaning

Tonight the Sky

Flowering trees stir against darkening skies and breath out their screams. This day started hollow and cold and ends the brave skulking low.  Those held up in golden bright halls cower down, lay low bold man! Ruin a watchword for them come to call. So the Scarecrow speaks.

Grand Designs

There is no secret there is you though.  There is a person who can affirm or deny the life that is lived.  You can accept or deny the treatment others give you but staying or walking away.  You can work at what you love, even if hidden in the deep of night after the work day is done.  You can treat others well and find those who do so in return. Keep them close and work at those friendships, they are the ones of some worth.  You can love and expect it returned, I wouldn't waste my time if it was not.  But remember some of us are slow in understanding and slower in  showing love.  Give us slow ones some extra time, it's often worth it.  You are beautiful care for those who are not.  Work hard even if it comes easy nothing great ever came by waiting.  Set things right even if hard or you would rather not get involved.  Justice doesn't just happen.

the last puritan

Don't speak change take your desires and hunt them down with a frightful earnestness.  Set aside the loved for the greater loved for a moment and act.  Fools may cry against possession but nothing well worn and used should fall into other hands.  Find the missing pieces that fit as made with you in mind.  Take the tools that work even if they take you in long paths in their mastery.  Nothing should be magical but well understood and held firmly in mind.  If you understand the long path of hard work, for God's sake walk it.  Take the time to experiment when everything is well in hand, understanding the failures is stronger than knowing what works.

The Amazing Pudding

Tears of the dead arise from the grave and wash the scales from my eyes.  Living land breathe once again give my voice unto the sky.  Dream small birds safe airs for wandering wing.  Call out warning when the dark wakes once more.  There shall be no more terror falling upon us, its already drown out the shore and washed back to sea.  Burn the bridges lets not be back again. 

Silent Missings

Breathe in the room, no don't think of something pretentious and see.  Only see things as themselves for a second.  Then speak to me of they're connections.  The little lands of past that well up inside of you.  Give it memory and memory breath and voice.  Love the little pains inward and set them free to be told.

Of the broken finger tips that brush about mourn.  Give your mourning word.  Any Silent missing that wells when birds sing is a joy and terror that binds us all together.  To simply wish away?  No you know better.  Bare that and be of it.  Don't only hold them like a stone.  Live their lives down to your bones.

In your Grand's words find what you understand.  Let it take you by the hand all days ahead.  Take a token touch it when you feel forgot.  Return to true when other try to move you.  Everyone who have loved, made me ; same as you.  No one has left if they live along in you.

Say what you will

Choking down the days that come too fast We need nothing no rush not crush but just quiet A soft chair and time to be weary silence or a soft glowing room where people serve our needs Nothing so grand as kings but instead the dead Nothing more than a comfortable seat and content child and an oft refilled drink My lord hear my prayer let her sleep early tonight and my dogs curl up next to me on the couch Let there be something good on where spouses can agree let the music I drive to fill the mood Please no more silly things filled with panic no more big ends sunk down into every day Help and hope if only for today

Killing Moon

Panic is slowing down into something new, With disquiet acceptance it's set present.  Trilling and worrying the blood a caustic infusion faintly biting. Tomorrow spilling over now in all words seen, no moments only be.  Trial and tremor against your will worn quiet and thin