a month in the stew

 

rolling swirls from the dream side of dawn

gently wash the moon's emotions

  into a nostalgic painting

a trespass. a journey

his or her weather

that may all melt before it ever gets delivered.

.

 

.

Adellica

  surrender 

To what's under a deeper dust 

unneeding of a rub or polish

indescribable like

the evening of spiritual energies

unpredictable     like the scanning of a text 

altering the order of words.

the natural order of unqualified dividends

 and life's secrets.

Truth be told, i'm just writing a memoir. 

about someone writing a memoir

 and sometimes were

on the same page

,-

this blew

 

  energetic eager proud change direction

what do words like these even mean?

Flint steel archer  Jupiter

they peninsulate whatever carries them.

Like signs in the water and bright spots.

 velvet ghosts as natural as teachers

laughter and trust gained goodbyes

and the bright spot happily restored justice beauty and harmony filled with new love

Hello, please number all words including sapphire

\

predictive analytics - what's next

 

I nap and dream haphazardly tapping 

the portals  of whispered fragments

inside the words I see letters

 animals  

screaming from their cages 

pacing

waiting to be unlocked

from shelter 

survivors of floods famines and fires

born again 

..

remedy for utopia

Love unlocks doors and opens windows  

 frightens and exhilarates 

A journey that contemplates  the heart shape  

because we can't know the shape of a soul

only dream glimpses identified  by silent truths

 love is a ghost everyone talks about but me

a trace of perfection unlimited by the mind

There was that one time  I didn't recognize your voice

with all the rooting and uprooting constantly going on

it was a cloudy night  there were no stars

anywhere

(#

pylon

silence between sounds

the steps into forever filled with undertones

like the glittery lava

shaken out into this cold dark

unfeeling place

or the tiny life inside a fragile voice.

it's going to be someone , and if it's not about

how love can't rest or learn how to listen

or making me as every

  if I

for a short piece go too long I just stop

%

hermetic transmogrification

 

born in silence the sky speaks  

to the places of your imagination   

symptoms drained out of words

capturing a half empty image 

prismatic age caves of flames 

turning behind shadows

My thoughts 

convicted 

traitors

my lips assassins

of virtue

my language is  

squeezing my soul to fit

_

mingle

 

the great beauty in shadow

it calls out to me 

to be kissed and held.

once this was the first time

once without thinking of how i appear, talk

not everything was just chance 

not everything wasn't that long ago.

in the end. when we broke up

i didn't  know how to be happy

I was assuming 

I was the thing they called me

and now it's all just  something in the past

#

untangling at the end

words weave inside me

  caressing 

spreading rays

  into unknown dimensions

destinations 

 as far away as

unspoken dreams

 them again 

I saw another metallic bird going west

a chemelon roach drone or a cycaida gsx possibly

what is your destination?

 I'm too exhausted to make a rainbow now God. said

39

separating images from time

detaching from the drama of life

  experiencing situations through only senses 

 you allow a natural response to 

  what is

 images without thought  

the present situation 

seeing 

without the distortion of the mind

allows you to not react.

   forget both up and down

smiles or frowns

mixed all together

Ago long ago 

dreams rippled

through a lifeless

anatomy of antonyns 

that swirled down, here into a heart

*.

lightness or the empty space song

maybe it's the lightness of empty space

but if it's  not

I can't be sure about holding it all together

while trying to understand 

the wind, the woods, the silence

 

so I continue up the path 

and into air 

in this way, events are twined together 

and when they slow and  stop

in ways that look like this 

I  remind myself  - don't forget to look around

because if you don' everything could collapse all around you

)

birds eye

secret tides pull us back

as currents open the night sky 

overlapping words

and  borderlines

all fading

like a wind clearing 

the path in front of  us

 

Day 64:

people are speaking in an unclear manner

hopeful but not overly emotionally 

Day 63:

I've distorted the reality of the present 

by transforming it into an obsession

especially in relatively benign situations

 #