season of change

Never had a bad intention

I just always made some bad decisions

that usually got way out of hand

and discredited my good intent

though looking a bit harder now

I guess I was just angry and confused

and figuring it out the best I knew how

given time, place, and circumstance

I mean I was just 16 then 19 — 23 then 25

now 31 doesn’t feel so old, in fact

I feel much younger than my former self

ready to dive back into that season of change.

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that lone bird this morning

My friend is back

that lone bird

this morning

he’s brought a friend

and wouldn’t you know

here I am

barely awake

and jealous of him

though not to spoil their party

I ear my headphones

stretch and bend

It’s got to be 60 degrees

and while I run

I think of them

happy among the trees.

moving West

I flipped myself

like a coin

then flipped again

just to see

if heads or tails

would land twice

like a pollinating

honey bee

I figured if I had a

50/50 chance

I might as well

take a look see

and feel what lie on the

other side of dying

rather than spend another

long day trying

to convince myself

I’d be better off another house wife

crying

into coffee

or screaming into laundry

relying on the offerings

of innocent smiles

casting unintentional

shadows on my coffin

of denial

marred by my own

self loathing

which like a

preacher’s devotion

I took such pride

in approaching

solitude

like a potion

endlessly encroaching

on my own

well being

I admit I was broken

so I flipped that coin

heads

then I flipped myself

tails

and discovered

this notion

that

heads or tails I was going

Going

Gone

with the wind

not a rolling stone

or a tumbleweed

not a nickel or dime

not a honey bee

no I was a wreck

cast far out to sea

but that’s just the thing

it took all that to see

moving West wouldn’t be

all that easy for me

no nothing is lucky

nothing is free

except the glow of bonfire

in the dead of tree

where dancing shadows

take form and

I’m just

understandably me — hell

it’s already 1:03

and I’m hungry

but

I’ve got no food to eat —

so call it in the air

no

on second thought

I’ll just let this one be.

I let me.

God

the places I have known

and the places I have seen

and the places I will see

God willing

God help me

and to think

I don’t care much for God

only as much as he pulls for me

but oh God oh God oh me

what wonders we have to see

if willing, and willing

I let me.

What I couldn’t say in person.

I can say I failed

Or

I can say it worked out

just as it was supposed to

And

her and I can move forward

knowing our paths weren’t meant to cross

Again

the past is all we had in common

and well, the past must be laid to rest.

Sleep well my friend

until then

I wish I hadn’t been so mean

But

I wish you only the best,

even though I’m sure that’s hard to believe.

rhythm of words

constantly tinkering

toying in turn

churning and yearning

and combing inward

what does it mean

I haven’t the urge

just sort of liked

this rhythm of words

poetry is spam

A large portion of

poetry is spam.

But I don’t eat that stuff,

at least not until I get to see Hawaii

then who knows?

I hear, fried with an egg, it’s good.

When in Rome, you know;

when in Rome.