treat our own mistakes in life, but also in the sense that our art refracts the grace with which we accept our (mis)fortunes.
the truth of it all is that i could not have chosen a better year to endeavor into all of this. not only was this a year which entailed an extreme healing time over different senses of heartbreak and grief, but it was one wherein i spent some of the most light-filled days i've ever known, entreated to loving and being loved in a way which permeated my world. not only was it a year wherein i experienced seismic shifts in my own self-concept, but also what i have learned to value in this completely collapsible and promise-fickle world. there are amazing, life-changing people who are indelibly wrapped inside of these writings, and yet there are also people from your life who are wrapped into them as well. it is the same reference point i usually cannot avoid when i hear songwriters: if an album is filled with mere anecdotal and personal reference points that are more navalgazing than a relatable condition, then it loses an empathy factor and fast. i have tried to keep within here the written parts of me which speak to a bigger experience. i can only hope you can meet me out there in the middle; calm waters at sunset.
an inkstorm summoned under live oak we dreamed
Part I: Each Others' Angels
lonestar 10-1-15
i remember so well my head leaned back
on a concrete slab in the middle of the hill country
we were looking at the stars for one last time
'fore shooting our own cosmic easterly line
just trying to find something in that vast expanse
that blessed the amassed romance of dreaming like hopers
i could feel in the shakes of your legs
that between the sparks of the saids
there was something like trepidation gating
the gazing unbridled stallion set of wishes
and i quickly grabbed your hand and squeezed
and i told you that somewhere in my power to believe
that i was sure this world had a way to keep us alright
if people are mixed into a shuffled set of cards
i should somehow hear our muffled voices from afar
sounding truth inside wishes in the bustles and the yards
of life that don't slow down, but rustles feathers
o so very far
and every now and then when i've got quiet on my side
and i find myself underneath a big harvest moon
i can't help but stop to think of you
i still find your stowaway hairs amongst my world
and i hope somehow that i always will
because somewhere in my power to believe
i was sure this world had a way to keep us alright
i think i'm probably just a lone star tonight
quiet enough 3-22-16
my heart does not experience
time, or distance
there's physics never met
with the sublime lassoed there
i've barely found places
quiet enough to take you
i've been frozen forever
with my hands in your hair
inside kids 8-5-16
i grew up junebug hopping
and firefly chasing and making
art from the leaves; we'd wander
blocks away to play and it barely
even mattered indeed
it was outside scratchings
and trampoline leaps and it was
always, 'shut the door!'
because we had inside cats:
meticulously maintained and contained.
in a nowadays frame i walk
back with my grocerybags through
the sunshine splendorcurtain
and notice the wild felines dart
this way and that in reconnaissance
missions and roaming brio
and i pass through the doors
into the air-conditioned gridcube.
sitting before me are inside kids:
chauffeured into safe cool cars
from one building to another
throughout their day, receiving
their daily rations and digital awareness,
meticulously maintained and contained.
my exhale, sometimes,
is a prayer to the sun.
the kind that bears
a thanksgiving
to my place in history.
broken record people 7-31-16
sitting amongst ourselves
and one another
broken record people
and the dog on the porch
keeps chasing its tail
are there design flaws
or is creaturecomfort
just the divine set of laughter?
bareboned belief 4-10-16
i will never forget the skymelt
timefreeze
