Out from Under the Boardwalk If you said that you could hear my voice speaking through the seagulls at the beach, I would believe you. I’d tell you that if you stand in the right place at a specific time, Like say, When the crows fly home, You could forever embrace the talk of my… Continue reading Out from Under the Boardwalk
Tag: eyes
Oh, Tweeze!
Fidgety is not something I am, It is something I hold, I act as if this timber’s got a mould— as if I am so unconveniently tame, as if I get chopped down and told to behave, as if my page rages from the left of the right, as if the morning wakes up to… Continue reading Oh, Tweeze!
da Capo.
Something interesting happened tonight; I forgave myself for all those missteps, mistakes, misshapen moments. I forgave myself for looking twice before crossing the road, then three times, then an even dozen. I forgave myself for over-watching my own human-bound figure with such over-powering precision of intensity that at times, I lacked ability to move. I… Continue reading da Capo.
Phantom, Pt. III
I woke up from the dream-boat, The one that held only me and you, But when I woke up, I did not wake up next to revelation, Nor did I wake up to you. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I was asleep in a bed, disguised as a casket. It was filled with my lame attempts to stay grounded–—… Continue reading Phantom, Pt. III
The MFA [Final 4]
Imagery and logos Versus faces and brand A trademark apparel Of bones walking to destination Of spherical rotated land; A chisel within a filtered paragraph, A cherry on top of Re-released validation. It’s not me anymore, It’s myself; More than cay’s contrived aesthetic of spirit. I found Her center With flag in hand And thus… Continue reading The MFA [Final 4]
Golden Chaos
There's a girl, who walks in a field, surrounded by flowers She can only feel. Free from the sunset that falls on her back, She dances and sings every word on the track. The moon is her light of a loving composer, Filling the beat with sounds of the slumber drifting closer. Finding the shore… Continue reading Golden Chaos
WBCW
The buffalo within speaks of destiny in choice. Relation in recognition of knowing that seeds of path are sewn into an elaborate tapestry of people, places, things. A composition of one’s own blueprint, a knower of scenes, a writer at their own cedar-wood adorned desk. This is me. Announce and speak humbly. A master in… Continue reading WBCW
PART EIGHT
On the notion of illusion, I don’t speak of fact, I speak of Truth in algorithms of math. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ I face the Wind that howls with me and whisper my Blues to be printed as Free. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ To surf with the echoes in the meadow, you see, would be genuine visions of gumdrops on trees.… Continue reading PART EIGHT
October
Watch now, Watch Free, View me explode. Tune in, Turn out, And prepare to reload. Create space between your fingers and grasp for the group, Don’t mention the colors you obtain for proof. Lie there, Lie still, Countless suspects foot the bill. Running red, The negativity spreads, The house becomes drenched in one, tiny threat.… Continue reading October
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