Yes?

You think of me again

yes?

You wonder if the reality was warm

Yes?

And it was but

God

it is so much richer now

in distance

Let us be lovers of words and watch each other

grow.

You are whispered on my lips

and

hips

as well.

Thank you far off lover.

lets write and sing drastic songs sent from afar

but close.

rodoor

Lessssssssons

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Where are the whispers that used to fill the inside of veins, “you want more”.

Give me lessssssssssss ons.

Give me lessons?

Give me freedoms.

Give me sleep.

Give me guiltless memories.

Give me kind interactions and a pillow of done enough.

Give me…nothing…no worth.

No.

No lessons.

No grace.

Give me jokes in face.

Your moms face.

Your moms face burnt with fire the bombs left her.

Left her an eye to give back to the soldier that saved her life…but he took that eye.

Lesson learned.

Why aren’t we laughing?

Another hat to wear.

IMG_4034I dance with the molecules surrounding me.

As  vibrations from the speakers toss my insides

into a tingle.

I take it with ease until she enters…

I take it up a notch to the surface of reality

that must exist for lovers to not itch

like squirrels.

I take myself out of the lush grass

to the land of tight muscles,

tight jaws creaking into the night.

So tight

I loose my form.

I take on the shape of another and I ask why.

Why?

Why, when it was me the whole time?

The one with the power

to change at the drop of a hat.

To find another

hat to wear.

Take myself for granted no longer.

Lets dance.

You and I.

You are me,

I take you in my arms,

ultimate lover.

The one who has sold me on the story.

The one that has sold me on the relating of nothing

to everyone who relates to nothing.

Why did the stars form we know not.

It matters not.

Knowing the answer can do nothing but free the soul from questioning.

Yet questioning is what we hunger for.

It is the ultimate desire.

We crave

not knowing.

It is why we are empty when we figure

or believe we have figured

something out.

We need the unknown in order to feel alive.

In order to not die with addiction.

Addiction forming when the brain is bored in knowing.

The surrounding humans unable to handle

such awesomeness that can escape from one dream.

Unable to handle it enough to

dream for themselves.

Let it let it let it be.

Say it

one

two

three

times in repetitive forms of what but of course,

nothing.

Everything is nothing and nothing is in all things.

All created equal.

For all things are made out of the nothing of everything. . . I soak.

Dance with me,

me.

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Remember, there’s a time lag of half a second from when you perceive something to when you become conscious of it…There is no choice but to live in constant catch up.

Remember

remember the Poet,

loosed lipped and easy at the hip

her taste buds are still forming

her mind still wondering if the goose bump will drench your skin

the skin you love.

Her give

your

tug.

Remember the timing of what was right

right before the fight came storming.

the stars missing the gaze of

your eyes watching out as they passed her by.

Remember the HEY that the horse ate

and the tan lines of laugh lines

now torn tears from good bye.

hold tight and ache why, ask why, be why

Remember why not…

Remember the wander of the wonder

how words came about from ink of swivel

now the flick of the tip just the tip tip tip

of hand

that caries meanings she herself

would never dare to dream of knowing she dreamed of.

Remember that day when the sun lifted the spirit

and your dress while you danced.

the poet birthing

herself

and dancing

to the gods created before the gods,

created after, and the ones no longer needed…

Talking to you

Talking to you is like talking to air…I wonder if the clutter it takes for me to ache ever reaches your ear.

Do you hear?

Do you hear?

Talking to you is paper bag brown and vulgar.

Lusting exits, slumber begins…the death of bed.

Talking with me is no better.

If the words fall sour and the tumbler sticks due to lack of lubricated intimacy, click tracked to conversation of space and time, the sound of foot prints fading, I must hear…clank, clunk.

 Ravage me damn it!

Take it in and give it back out in the shout of your quiver.

Talking to you could be nothing, or everything. If I would stop to listen.

If you would drop in to listen.

If you would

Talk

to

You

   More.

The decomposing of me.

Crisp moon at my feet, reflect to me my truest nature.

Lie to me not, for you know no such thing as ego.

Tell me, let go.

“Let go.”

 Tell me…

Arriving at the green blades edge, my spine straightened by the freeze of the mountain water.

I fall into cold.

                                           .

                                                              .

                                                                                                           fall into feeling…

Memories once shoved into the cozy corner of the forgotten, are now jolted from their slumber.

Rushing the front of my brain like daggers shot from a booby-trapped tomb. Piercing the core of my denial.

Moods flooding, the murky reflections of meant to be.

The smell cringing in bubbles exiting my mouth.

Let me feel the burn of it.

Let me drift to the bottom, toes touching upon mud

Allow the fish to eat my eyes first.

No longer needing to see.

The pain they have witnessed, not just of myself, is enough to ache for the tinge of the first nibble.

The decomposing of me.

Hold death, let me feel the weight of water filled lungs, mouth gaping, deceived by the assumption of oxygen’s availability to me at all times.

Let me feel the disappointment.

Let the childhood stories, beginning with sledding and ending in crumpled panties and lost innocence, tag along with my last scream.

Allow me the release of knowing I am food.

Not driven with purpose yet fulfilling THE purpose…to feed what I have eaten.

No permission needed,

All are welcome to the piece.

Whispered Flaws

I write to you in my sleep.

Diamond sky, stardust lining ALL skins.

The waters touch quenching ANY thirst here or after.

The desert crumbling beneath toes dipped in valley.

You are there.

Visioned.

Seen.

Falling from risen.

True in being nothing.

Giving everything a meaningless meaning of seeing.

The dreams, like clouds, we dance upon their vapor.

Whispered flaws yelled from clasped claws…

Sleepily you write to me also…

Super Human

“You need to remember you are strong. You’re unstoppable when your strong.”

She tells me this while she sits in her own soft sadness.

We are the same. Craving love and attention, we have starved for long enough.

The nuclear family was not the support beams they were cracked up to be.

In fact the cracks were huge and she slipped through them.

Thats how we found each other.

I still have not healed fully from the chaos that was the co-dependacy and I feel her want to pull me back in and yet at the same time it is the safeness I have yearned for.

The  home of, “All things are possible.”

Don’t tell me I need you…

No answers are needed…

Only tell me I am doing it already.

I am able and strong.

I am great at doing this for others…now me…

They are nothing with me and everything with themselves.

I need this as well.

Turn to the ones living the dream.

She has to remember.

I have to remember.

This time…I am here for her.

Who will tell me?

No One. I have to tell myself.

I tell myself I am strong enough, thank you for the idea.

You, strong enough too.

Strong enough to let the world into the private warmth and chaos that is me.

Comfort while icily looking forward.

Crave the intensity of love and not the ambition.

Dance soul.

Get the hell up and dance.

Bear the soul that is deep as the ocean, the world is watching and in need.

All you envision is all that was given to you by the Universe, for the benefit of the Universe.

Sanity feeling like insanity.

Enlightenment feeling like darkness.

The tingle begins. It begins with in her grasping. . . HER.

You are the super human you have been envisioning.

Intense is the leader, hold your hand and let you guide you.

The soul is within not out, so again. . . Dance. hands high, voice just as big.

Take it all on, it was all meant for you…

Happiness is what I speak of damn it!

Enlightened with music, art, sight and sound. Take all on and be all.

For all is nothing. And nothing is simple right?

No choice. It was what she was born to do.

Me?

I am just fine. No aches at all thank you… good day.

More ways than one.

I am ill today.

In more ways than one.

Heavy insides ready to burst forth with my blood sacrifice for this month. The pains are thick, so is the emotion.

Also,

my brain works differently than some and I know this.

I have always known this.

I have been told by doctors all through out my life that the polar oposites of me can make life and love unbearable. Pills forced down my throat at a young tender age.

Forced down by wishful thinking of cures.

Cures for my brain.

The way it thinks.

The way it feels.

The way it acts out. . .

but I feel. . .

I feel like my brain is wonderful and lush with swirls of creation and thought I love to delve into. The only problems I see with my brain are the labels and pills that were beaten into me that now I swim through to find my genuine thought.

The last few days have been heavy with emotion and reflection. So today I rest and let the pains and tears lull me to sleep because…I am ill today… In more ways than one.