I love your silence

say something silly but said without vibration

put to sleep in evening and never missed the moments of thought

brought myself back to myself, never wrong, take the rug from underneath my feet

and I keep spinning, my little girl, and take care of each other

in that classic way, oh man it feels good

like a worm in the sheets, feeling away around the brisk, yes

deep in non-thought, nonsense, everlasting laughter

your silence

are boring beings

we tell so many stories

but we are

truly

boring

AHAHAHAHAHA

its truly a riot!  we're so boring!

its hilarious!

feels a bit better

a bit easier

there was, no commotion this morning, and the people in my life

all surround me

the breaths are deep,

and there is silence, and a bit of romance, romantic film, romantic talk,

some business, some let downs

but I'm un-effected, still ready, still poised, understanding of what I want, and those are all good feelings

so I sit and write, and that is okay

the examined life, portrayed right at the fingertips, in loving memory, in loving color, swirled together, finding their roots at epitome, the example. the hand reaches out to the flower pedal floating its all simple, the hand reaches for what it needs, the person is enchanted, delighted, to be a part of something, that moment when the dynamic is flawless, those little moments, when the sun hits and there are parades in the background the the hand and eye and mouth are all focused on one specific interaction.  

these moments, take up all the time they need, and then they pass, and that is that, but time has a funny way of working its way up the spine, finding itself later in the recess of memory, embrace, warmth that is uncontitional, while no truth is permanent some stand for longer periods than others, and while they stand we dance, we dance, we dance

we cast ribbions to to top!  and we throw confetti all over and celebrate!  yes and while celebration may be a set up for disappointment, in that moment, that specific moment, celebration is perfect, and love shines, and its power is furious, its power is locked in, and death is escaped somehow, the spirit is sprinkled, like the confetti, and the individual is, truely, selfless

what I have control over, and what I don't

god grant me the serenity

acceptance, wisdom,

the difference

magna carta and raise me a constitution

letters upon letters suggesting what I should understand

the mind making associations, again, again, again

the limitless factors that go into any context, conversation

auto-pilot?  direct intent?  specific motivation?   impossible to really figure out

the neurons firing, and the impulses flaring

the body, the mind

is it possible for me to forgive myself?

feeling in between, like no bubble can bring to the lips

conterfeit, lost in abyss, wanting so badly, want for a word that says, this
then grapple for eternity

stumble on stumbling letters, falling into place like a melody

existing in a moment in time, beat down and empowered, all there is to it, all there is to release it, all there is to compose!  to grasp!  Wait your turn that never comes

and I sit cross legged, with a  cup of coffee and I look back shaking my head, oh how far I've come, man here's to that

I ask forgiveness from my old dog, who I neglected...the poor boy is gone

****** stuck in muck, where can the process emerge, how can the subtlety grasp onto the big leviathan, allowing little particles of coconut goodness to sprinkle over towns, bringing a day of glory and joy

the power to forgive, between the auto-pilot of conversation, read out loud, pronounced as a competition!  

reverting back to that old way of sales pitch, selling forgiveness on the streets!  Tainted?  no, more like...genuine intent but lost in translation, lost in apathy, deaf ears, no

forgiveness, not to forget, but to make the personal decision, a selfish thing, really, to forgive yet never speak to the person ever again

I'll take a glass of that and raise you fifty

caught dangling in the bathroom, caught thought up in little thinkings, those little nibblets nibbling at your inner ear, telling you you're weird

funkining funkinings frolicking around frustrated ambassadors

stuck out of time, make sense of anything, when the road ahead seems so clear,

and a vision presents itself on a pedestal, asking to be taken

awkwardly feeling my way around a toolshed, I'm on empty

where am I again?  step by step

step by step

be gentle on yourself