butterflies
the butterflies flap their wings
inside of me
and my initial instinct
is to deem this act distinct
and separate
from what the mind measures
as "pleasure"
but the more I feel into it
the more I am literate
at reading the riper way of
reasoning with these
supposed nervous tickles,
thus realizing theirodynamic ripples
are more sweet
than bitter,
more savory
than sour
and only necessary for supreme
victory
and responsible wielding
of limitless
power
this and any hour
the heat of leaving
I used to know what it meant to be
a beautiful catastrophe
but now that I have crashed and burned
I know there's no lesson to be learned
from scabs and scars and shattered dreams
now there's nothing left to do but scream
and tell the whole world what it means
to be a volcano out of steam
dormant deflated and obscene
I'm nothing but a trampoline
bent beneath the weight of things
I'm nothing but a melody
singing sharply out of key
With regards to the good cry
It never happens the way you see it in movies- the long soliloquy of tumbling words followed by the quiet sobs.
No, it's more likely to be
words are cut off
with tears
choking
every syllable
words strangled
at the top of the throat
words stopped up
with crying jags
like cotton stuffing
in a soda pop bottle
that's been shaken
and nearly poured out.
Tree
i guess i died a long time ago
i guess i didn't notice that blood was no longer flowing through my veins or
that i was no longer breathing
i guess i didn't notice when i bit my fingernails down to the quick or when i stopped blinking to refresh my eyes
i didn't even realize when my body turned from glorious green
to raging reds and yellows
now i'm dead and i've lost my leaves
you have a way of doing that to me
Wait For Nothing
Wait for nothing
Don't wait for anything
Life simply happens
However, you are the one to give it course
We live our entire lives waiting for something
But we don't realize that
When we don't expect anything,
Circumstances and destiny were the ones
Looking for us
Wait for nothing
Don't wait to obtain something back from others
Just wait for nothing
Take responsibility of your own actions
And never disturb the flow of others lives
Unless it is for love or natural death
Wait for nothing
And live the present
The past is dead and the future does not exist
There are more than a thousand reasons to say
Anything happens for a reason
But reasons don't mean anything
In a life that is already taken its course
Everything is predetermined
However, this does not mean that you're following a script
You are allowed to improvise
You are allowed to make this a comedy or a tragedy
Please don't make it a drama
Make it a journey
A journey to Nirvana
Through the mountains or the beach
Escape Samsara
In the end, you'll know what I meant
We never look for reasons for something that happens
In the same sense we don't look for death
Or we don't decide to look for someone to love
But any of those always end up walking by our own stroll
Wait for nothing
Enjoy what you have
Write poetry to love
Read poetry to live
Make others read you poems
Teach them to read them once you're gone
Life is poetry
And life
Waits for nothing
It already happened.
DA 2015
To my body, which has never hated me.
anarchic borderland,
drawn out by curves and angles,
patrolled by piercings and inks and fabrics,
a multitude of scars and unexplained bruises
simultaneously, the center of pleasure
and pits of torment,
the prisoner inside taps SOS against a cage,
looking beyond security through blurred windows
purveyor of history,
a factory of misassembled genes,
functioning, proper,
yet still somehow wrong
still, despite the bile or the lines,
or the late nights spent staring,
pursuit of the ever-elusive change,
sufficient. incredible. thank you.
Too Much To Let Go
What to do when love
Runs dry? I can take a long walk
Past those special places
And sweep them away
Except I just cannot
It's too much to let go
Open the shoebox that's
Stowed away
Take out those golden letters
And re-read each one
The highlighted phrases
The jokes that tickled
It's too much to let go
Clear away those old photos
Screaming as the pain hits
I thought about shredding them
Along with the letters
Tied with red ribbon
Something pulls me back
It's too much to let go
I head to the bathroom
Throw out all those smells
But there on the mirror
A message scrawled in lipstick
And it all floods back
It's too much
Too much to let go
I cry in despair but need
A drink
But lying there is your glass
I smell your lips on it
And kiss it
But it just hurts so much
You're too much to let go
I call you up in floods
You rush to me
I fall to the floor with a sigh
Because I just can't
Can't let you go
And there you are at my door
And you're too much
To let go
Surf and slam
Friday
high noon coming
the water sheets the life below
like glass
on the Sound where
all is disconnected then
connected by true carbon
the Sun burning pure above
the whales
the Moon moving the tide
just so
all the electricity of time
burning through the board
and running volts from
foot to shore
in a web flash-bulbed
and captured
like moments in music
moments sealed within
a kiss fronting
a city at night
all the deaths on pause
all the goodness
released across the
water
electric blue across
the glass
pushing
stretching
reaching
across time broken
by speed
paused in the snapshot
of knowing
we can
take it with
us.