Fumbling in motorized chairs, the lazy nation discontinues it’s subscription to creativity and buys into the shares of popular conformity,
Climbing social rungs by means of hand held communications
chiming new jumbled codex, the sacred art of improvised face-to-face is a 10 second snap; no room for rent to intelligent linguistics, (you can see the decay in my language as it slowly erodes, as floral-speech becomes old age). 
Oh! Doth reality look quite like an allegory once told:
all the beautiful accept their barcodes,
All the self-righteous say a lot of things like ‘y’all’, and ‘fuck the system’ and ingore their hypocritisisms
And all the terrible children silently make for the exit in the name of preservation of the one thing that thinking can’t find, contented with the contradicting inconsistencies of letting a society stay chained to the degrading wall of a frequented social networking web page.

We never saw
the Messiah
so blinded by the past,
slaves to our identities,
our nicely polished masks.
Cast him as the Devil,
the world his stage,
punished him
silently
(like the needle finds a vein, sipping steadily into blood; the next fix of sanity)

We, in the crowd,
swallowed by prejudice;
empty paper;
claimed wisdom;
prescribed cross
or it’s reverse;
are lost.

We never saw
the Messiah.
He only saw himself.

What will you do

What will you do
when we tire of you?

Learn a new trick?
Buy a unicycle?

Will you write a song that
everyone’s heard?

Perform spoken word?

Will you buy a guitar
and teach yourself to play?

Make sure you let
us know.

Our attention validates
your art. Not your heart
and soul.

There was a cute couple playing music. The guy was playing guitar and the girl was singing. It was the perfect background. It mixed so subtly and softly in between the spaces of not only peoples talking, but within the cracks in the wood. It gave a certain tint to the night sky that illuminated the stars through the wisps of clouds that hung suspended in an atmosphere of awe. The crisp autumn leaves became percussive in the wind. The two were a hidden gem in the cavernous night; perfection synchronized within the realms of sound and soul. Just as it is during the twists and turns of sex, these two danced finger to tongue in the harmonizing rhythm, acting to create the connection between reality and hope; they as needle and thread, and we as the torn fabric. In this moment they were immortal. When they finished each song they’d kiss and laugh and take another swig of Fireball.

I’ve been laying in bed naked all day listening to Andrew Bird while writing my book. I feel lazy, but I’m actually getting stuff done which is nice.

Happy Birthday

It’s an odd thing when you think about it. That you are so much like your father. So much like your mother, your friends… And so much like yourself. That 21 years ago you were born.

That once upon a time you wanted to be a soldier, fighting for something valorous and noble. That once upon a time you were a little boy, scared to sleep in the dark. Afraid to be alone. That once upon a time you stole one of your fathers porn magazines just to know what a woman looked like. That once upon a time you questioned your sexuality. That once upon a time you questioned your existence and whether it was worth remaining. That you had your first kiss, first class, first friend, first loss in this cruel world when you didn’t know it was so cruel. I remember thinking in 3rd grade that I’d never live past 16. That I’d never see graduation. I remember thinking that I would never make it to be old enough to go to college. But I always knew I’d get married. Have kids. And now im so different.

Here I am. So completely here. So deeply engaged in a life that I never could have dreamed. So ready for the next chapter, and so unsure of what it will hold.

I grew up without even realizing I have been constantly changing. I grew up oblivious to the fact that I was growing up.

I lost my mind somewhere

I lost my mind somewhere in
between the
realms of sunset and sunrise
in between breaths, exhales;
the immeasurable span
between one star and another.
I lost my mind somewhere in
between the
cycles of the moon and the sun
in between old, new;
the dividing street between the
rough side of town and the clean.
I lost my mind somewhere in
between the
places of death and conception
between chalk outlines, thighs;
The misunderstood paths
between truth and lies.
I lost my mind somewhere in
between the
lapse from end to beginning
between illusion, reality;
the unknown space
between body and soul.

from a height

Snow is heavy falling from its height,
White as cocaine
Cold and thick as tequila
As it comes out of the icebox.

Have you ever caught a flake on your tongue?
It dissolves like acid
and you lie down
Imagining you’re an angel

And the man that it forms
Has eyes as black as tar
And smokes a pipe.
He’s crystallized and only
Stares forward smiling
With his lifeless countenance
Like most made of something
From a height.

I found a note on sun bleached paper

You broke the darkest parts
Of my low kingdom
Like a desperado riding in
From the east.

Each ray a spear shattered
The silence; my serene existence
And awoke the birds deep
Down in the nest.

Warmth took hold
I was no longer in morning.
I was no longer in mourning.

In the street, under the lights

We arrived full of wine to an empty street. The dark was defeated in the luminous glow of street lights reflecting off of the thick snow that fell delicately around us. Flakes of white were caught, a contrast, tangling into your dark hair. For all that seemed cold about the air, I was blissfully warm in the slightly exhausted exhales of the moment. Your eyes held the flames. Your eyes hold a substance I can never fully understand. Locked inside of your retinas, I swear, is the answer to life. The cure to worry. The key to love and the way into a deeper universe.

I reached out and took your hand, asking for a dance. We didn’t need music. Every snow flake sang a silence so deep and enriching that no device could achieve the perfect lack of sound.

You are my tigress. The huntress of the wooded regions held up in all dimensions of my mind. It was as if you had leapt from the tall weeds of my dreams and materialized in the street: brilliant, beautiful, perfect.

Elegantly, as if we were the king and queen of this empty tundra of a street, we spun and laughed. We sealed our rule with a kiss.

I fell swiftly, and completely in love with you. And for the first time in so long, the ice thawed deep inside of me. The heat of our joy melted through skin and bone to my true essence. I felt alive again. I became real… And my eternity became framed in this moment, beneath the heavy snow and glowing street lamps of an empty street in my heart.