Words and Images: Oh

 i only amiate
original thought
oh press me
i sink under your skin like liquid spirit
gift of permanence
tattering illusions like dry paint

uneven tides
wavering on blank space
just give me the weird
the marrow
the dancing
the shaking unknowing
a collective of shallow
holy vessels 

carried across centuries
my true love is history

fear is a loading screen

twenty one pilots
of leafs shuddering
oh let's travel more wide than far
i want the deepness
the recognizable holding

oh come climbing

you know the way from my eyes back to somewhere looking backwards
exact abstracts bend your fingers
to my open will
oh how softly i come calling

some new poems

"an empty house"

stretched upwards down and falling fast,

spiraled wrought in eternal light

her bones are only used for dust these days

dust upon the books, upon the rickety chair

held solid by long closed eyes,

washed away from wooden floors by late summer rains,

rinsing ripples on stain glass windows

of once upon a time,

for crying out loud to whisper softly in the spider's ear

what designs to falter into splendor

crisscrossing lights, bending morning dew into fragments

of filtered possibilities 

the quiet of the uncanny house settled deeply on the southern soil

creeping forth the wicked green of winding vines

valiantly raising their existence

with breath broken into vapor

resting on your lips, held limp

in your ragged hands

curtains hung stagnant in forgotten breezes 

of broken lullabies, stuttered goodbyes

and the fading dusk of leaving shadows on your desk. 

"a cold hallway"

unpaled by retracting footfalls 

who spoke you so silently to make you shake so deep?

shedding paper thing hymns from your feet, 

washed clean as freshly fallen snow

catching on your eye lashes,

mounting cities out of frozen flakes,

beckoning out icy awes of reverence

for the defeat of ancient skies 

from whence the words once came

aching smoke to just be still awhile, 

for our skin to settle down

with all our thrashing around

to forget that we're still sinking in the earth's deep black

reserved for beings to disappear to their own liking

so swiftly that the space they once inhabited 

never seemed that empty at all

or so hauntingly slow that their breath

lingers at the edge of our ears,

their footsteps still fall with some folly

on the persistent cold of the hallway's wooden quiet.

"a rainy graveyard"

damp wild, trodden and soggy 

from the sky's fallen grace

but keep up the pace, 

i'm trying to say something here.

peachy florals rising to the surface of your skin

to brush the steely coolness of the passing gun

to pass the time

to pass the vibrations of your rhyme 

played out by bony fingers

ringing out bells for every lost

buried deep, but not deep enough

to keep the rain from washing the worms away

from wasting flesh and worn out wanderings

amongst these burial grounds, 

collecting dharma in leaflet pages

spread out across your southern sky, 

to realize the whole of nature, 

the throbbing of reality, 

thunderous and utterly alone

spoken suddenly to the edges of what our eyes fathom, 

no less than yesterday.

the haze that comes in waves

trampoline white,
as stark as a flower in the falling rain,
following the dusty storm,
lightness cloud and mist in the mirror,
skin meeting water, fullest of forgotten being,
no feeling of whereabouts within,
moments shuddering in waves of gone and not really there but looking around,
blinking, no sleeping, waking in the waves of sound,
lapping waves of music surrounds, pressing upon my being,
it's getting less, i've been duped,
surrounded by the smoke, lost within the lasers of lights,
pressed between the wall and your hips moving against mine,
never what i expected it to be,
losing myself in the hold your lips have on me,
sweet voice, sweet name, sweet returnings to reality,
new beginnings, lack of sleep to carry me onward,
for stepping on the glass,
why is writing more important than spelling when i know it's happening,
it feels less over time, over lapping words sprung from some spring
of my eye always hurting,
in the desert, please read my words,
in response, so it's not for naught,
to stand on the edge of the ledge and not feel fear anymore,
sailing over lungs in knots we tie together,
gypsy vapors, swim within me, my mind at ease, at her leisure,
in forgotten mason jars, thoughts in ebb and flow,
areas of stone beneath my feet against the wind,
at the window sits a crow beneath the scattering colors of the sky,
silence bears the grey morning,
the haze is fading, growing brighter in my mind to such disappointment,
waterfalls of twinkling sunshine stars,
ringing out bells of the death, wandering about town,
so as to say, not existing.
i hope i make it, i wonder how to act within myself,
to win the lady's heart,
the altogether soft under the boyish veil,
if she discovers with her limbs,
i could relax a thing or two,
the rising of tensions against the skin and radiating, warming,
escaping, little moans, what is heard besides your breath in the night,
little death,
bright and cold as the moon shining the way,
casting light out loud, things whispered, to be complete,
rising higher on some secret spectrum,
i can move more easily and think the clearest thoughts
before the haze carries me to settled sleep within myself.

What I Wrote: Friday the 13th

Write uninhibited, unabashed, unforgiving, unspectacular, unnoticed, unapologetic, unsatisfied, unseen, unregretful, voiceless, powerless, with the deepest tones of magic; pure untattered, untarnished magic.

The magic of the dust in the eyes of the universe, energy of the spoken word, lapping through space in waves, ebbing and flowing, arching new openings to some other wonderland we keep dreaming about; brought to life by the edge of our fingertips, the warmth of human touch, the growing light that flickers through the winds of the storm but never goes out.

Write in chaos, sprawled across the walls of the world, the skin we live in, the sky that keeps us locked away.
Write in colors across the canvas, depicting this internal dance of demons and anger and a drumbeat that matches our marching hearts, stomping out a cadence, an eternal symphony, an empty orchestra that sets the stars in song and we cry at the words we can not comprehend.
And we search, we search for the meaning, we search for the truth, we search for some comfort or some chaos or some air to breathe besides these broken bones.
And for infinity we search, never growing weary, never losing hope, never closing our eyes without seeing seeing the bright horizon.
We carry on, we hold on hope, we fail to falter, we believe.
If ever there was something to be remembered for, if all else is lost and but one word remains, then let us rest in peace, never forgotten, brought to life on the lips of every being that says
"I believe."

blessed and a poem

I don't know why but I felt like writing a blog. I am pretty much bed ridden right now with cramps and a messed up leg. I popped my knew out of place by misplacing my weight, I guess? Whatever happened, it hurt, a lot. It is getting easier to walk on but I still prefer not to, because if I move my leg the wrong way and my weight is put in the wrong way, it hurts a lot! My knee is still swollen too! But last night was still magical! I am currently reading H.P. Lovecraft, if anyone has read him as well, let's talk about it! He is hard to read but still fascinating! I am also rereading the Harry Potter series! Also, I wanted to mention all the ways I have been blessed lately, and it's all in the context of time. It's hard to explain, but Time just keeps working out for me. So that even though at this moment my knee hurts and my muscles ache and it's hard to eat and my body is shaky and old sweaty, I know that it's just a matter of time before I am well again! And even this helps me to appreciate my body!
Remember when I used to write poetry? It's been really hard as of late, I rarely even have the inkling or desire. But I did write something the other day, I rather like. Here it is:
"feet pushing pavement
in the only way i know best
with alcohol pushing the blood through
there’s a whole universe, surfing through my veins
maybe i should let it out, maybe i should
little lights whisper sweet nothings,
nothing
the wind brings me nothing when it comes to brush my summer skin
no sudden revelations, or lovers in disguise
tread easy, light up, no hands on the wheel
who’s to steer, who’s still awake here?
who all can you hear, calling into the dark
trying to reach you, trying to reach you
but you keep bending the fabrics of reality
and your destruction is all that’s left
up on display, for everyone to see
so turn it down, keep it low
we’ve got miles left to go
but we’ll never get there if you keep holding your breath.
just frickin breathe already."

Ashlee Madison

how beautiful your creations, Lord,
how wondrous is the voice that escapes their throats,
how unending is the love leaving their hearts
[to reach us]
oh, the compassion that flows,
the faith that is shown.
blessed are the lives they touch,
Your beautiful creations.
how bright they shine in the sea of dark
how heartily they heal the broken in heart
oh, the songs they sing for You,
so that You might love a nation,
how they sing forever,
Your beautiful creations.

[we hadn't talked in years, but i still felt okay, knowing there was this beautiful light for Christ out there in this dark world. so, i am not angry or upset, personally. her time in my life was a blessing. but i'm sad for the world, it just got a little dimmer.]

my hands are weaker than myself

it was so softly that i stepped into the night
knowing that the bitter air would settle in my lungs
and push out all the feelings
eventually
but for now it's all so casual,
just walking a musical walk
with hope still left in my heart.
my music is so gentle
as to not upset this fragile thing
still beating inside me
your minutes flee
i am still
for just a moment
it is overbearingly beautiful
to just be still
even with the cold air pressing in
getting closer
to letting everything go numb
a sidewalk with so much potential
if he would only walk this way
just walk this way
and be everything i've waited for
make it worth it
but i'm now so cold
numb
the most beautiful harsh coldness
that i have ever experienced
caught within
oh, it fills me up
and surrounds me
and these bones inspire poetry
and i could float in this forever
but my hands are screaming
against the night air
to just release the pressure
just let up a bit
let a little warmth in
why are you so weak?!
why not let me linger
onto the little hope i have
as soon as my feet start moving
this feeling falls away
but you make the decision for me
as you are passing by
you do not see me
.....you do not see me
i should have screamed it
i should have let you see
the frenzy you've created
and what i've done for you
what i'd feel to be in your path
but you always thought i was so warm
and i've ruined that
my hands are screaming
release this pressure
as you turn away,
without the knowledge of my presence
my obvious presence
that screams against this cold cage
i could have walked miles
it felt that long
it felt like forever
that my legs were moving
but i couldn't even feel them
i didn't know i was capable
to move my legs in a direction opposite of you
how can you mean this much?
how can you be so bold?
my hands are screaming
i keep them in their fists
cause i know it will hurt more
when i unfold them
and i'm looking forward to it.
who could love this cold thing?
how would want to hold my freezing form?
the pool is reflected in my eyes
and in everything i could have dreamed of
the desire to just jump in is the strongest i have known
maybe i will float forever
i don't want to drown
i want to freeze to death
i want the waters to surround my frozen spirit
i want to feel that free for that little bit of time
but my hands are weaker than myself
and instead i return to the door
that brings me back to this senseless existence
a conundrum of repetition
and ever passing days
it's still so dark, still so early
and it's warm
i guess i should be glad
but the warmth that's penetrating
and pushing out the numb
is pushing out the hope for something better
all energy has fled my body
left motionless, silently protesting
the warmth settling into me
but my spirit doesn't settle here
purged by the exact musical moment
begins the symphony of letting go
and letting these tears fall
and not even sitting is good enough
the air is far too dense
with the glory of a Higher Being
the floor is where my body settles
my eyes can not be lifted up
and my body can not resist this gravity
my hands are weaker than myself
but they know so much more than me.

the majesty of tunderstorms

the lightning lives when you speak.the clouds mold beneath your touch.
your power thunders in the sky,
works of majestic wonder and beauty
brought forth from your imagination,
spoken into life.
the lightning shows your glory,
the thunder proclaims your wonder,
the very storms obey you.
who can deny your majesty
when it is written in the skies?
i gladly woship the maker of skies,
the creator of storms,
almighty and powerful is my amazing God!