hide & seek.

I want to play hide-and-seek and hide in a place where only you can find me I want to pull you in and tell you I like your new shoes and ask if they are comfortable and when you tell me they gave you blisters I will make you a warm bath and sit next to you and message your neck and kiss your feet and wash your worries away I will take you out for a nice meal and not mind when you like my dish better than your own I will call you and ask you to meet me at the coffee shop so I can ask you about your day and be busy booking shows for you I will help carry your guitar case I will help you carry anything and everything you ever could ask me to carry I will carry you I will laugh with you even when the jokes are bad and laugh while you adjust a million little things to make sure that everyone and everything is as comfortable as possible I will continue to make you mix tapes you will never listen to I will continue to search for music you haven’t heard so we can have a never ending conversation I want to rent fantastic films and watch terrible films and laugh at the terrible films and get distracted by the moonlight and fall asleep in your arms in the blanket of the moonlight I want to wake up early and fetch you an americano and a bagel I want to go to Florence with you and drink whiskey at midnight and buy cheap cigarettes and wander around the streets and never find a match and I want to fall asleep next to you and  wake up and want you in the morning but let you sleep for a while because I love looking at your freckles I want to stroke your hair out of your eyes and tell you how beautiful your eyes your lips your neck your stomach your arse your... 

I will sit on the steps outside of your studio reading a book till your neighbour comes home and sit on the steps reading a book until you come home and worry when you’re late and be amazed when you are early I want to come to your party and give you a boquet of sunflowers I picked and dance at your party till the sun comes up I want to host wine parties and let you get drunk and clean up the mess because you are always the life of the party I want to wake up and drink tea and look at photos of you and wish I had known you forever but love getting to know you and ask you questions about your life becuase I am enchanted by it I want to be sorry when I’m wrong and happy when you forgive me and I want to get scared when you’re angry and your eye gets red and the other eye blue and your hair to the left and your face oriental and tell you you’re gorgeous anyway and I want hug you I want to hug you when you feel anxious and hold you when you are hurt and want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you and leave so I can come back and we can be happy to see each other again I want to wonder who you are but accept you anyway and tell you about the golden enchanted absinthe snail who flew across the ocean to tell you I love you and write poems for you and wonder why you don’t believe me when I say you are my best friend and have a feeling so deep I don’t have words for it and I want you to be free and inspired I want you to continue to inspire the world I want to help you plan trips without me and show up at your shows when you think I wasn’t coming I want to show you that more then a lover I am a friend I want to get drunk and ask you to marry me and have you say no because even though I don’t want to get married I want to be in your life forever and I want to wander the city alone and think that it is empty without you and think I am losing myself but feel safe when you are next to me and tell you about the worst of me and give you the best of me because you don’t deserve any less and answer your questions when I would rather not and tell you the truth when I really don’t want to and try to be honest because it is beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort I want to speak Spanish to you badly and French even worse and make love with you at three in the morning and somehow somehow somehow communicate some of the overwhelming undying overpowering unconditional all-encompassing heart-enriching mind-expanding on-going never-ending love I have for you.

(untitled)

perpetually inspire and comb my humble desires. 

fill the languid landscape with drops of solidarity.

ascend from benevolence a nature versed in revolution.

quintessential thought bubbles provoked by the bounty of calligraphy.

a correspondent quail as nimble as a teleprompter.

thought inducing righteousness answers the wary foundation.

a murmur of gratitude ails iron-clad giants succumb freely to the luxor of the sun god.

mercifully platonic hydration encapsulates normalicy. 

robust remanence of isotonic fusion embedded in plaid skirts.

the dichotomy of romance endures subtle hyperbolic allies.

machismo nuances loom on the frivolous fence post like sunday morning cartoon strips.

time creeping and crawling through troughs of manipulation.

bountiful in tones of omnipresent gestures.

it's been a long year.

except in the example of dreamscapes, they have been plentiful. 

taste(ful) dis(ill)usion

a rat-a-tat-tat rustles the silence,

startles your nerves,

a synchronized synopsis occurs,

disengaging the discomfort,

leaving the world a float,

slave to the ocean,

incompetence will note,

solidarity meanwhile,

knocks at the door,

removes it’s shoes,

unwinds the truth,

like laces,

there is good news,

stretches his appendages,

the night is warm and fair,

alas! the infinate nature of comfort,

will find us there,

a brisk jig on the soft rug arouses,

electric wind like wild fire,

compounds us,

unveiling the petals of coversion,

a matriarchial sort of subversion,

while we linger at the pedastool,

awaiting the first chord,

the silence has been broken,

we sing in accord,

settle into familiarity,

elegantly,

appraoch the unknown,

seperated by nothing,

with only love as collateral.

washed into an abyss of symetry,

parallel mutiny,

abridge the bounty,

finds ourselves,

secured in harmony,

bound to the natural order,

as our feet message the earth,

take off your shoes soldier,

life requires little seperation,

from birth,

on the front porch,

a memory of you will drip from the sky,

like the high of the moonshine,

planted behind my third eye,

sail into eternity,

the endless starry nights,

dance across the river sailor,

play in my reservoir of sun,

mount yourself on my mantle,

until the time lapse is done.

settle into familiarity,

elegantly,

appraoch the unknown,

seperated by nothing,

with only love as collateral.

kelly.

Today I sat down by the window and cried. I cried for the loss of your life. I cried in your memory. I got caught wishing I had a picture of us together. So I could remember. So I could look at you and see pieces of me. Without that picture it’s just memory. I reached deep into the unfolded memories, dusted them out. The tears washing away the years of neglect. The day reminding me how much I long for your embrace. As the tears drip down my cheek. The whole world seems awash in blue. I look for comfort. I look for you.  I know that in these moments when I am lost and alone. To look for you and my future will be told. And as I glanced outside, a que from the wind. My heart fluttered as if you had brought some friends. One thousand angels sat by my door. In the shape of a finch and nothing more. The simple beauty hidden in that old oak tree. The wisdom and knowledge, the comfort, the leaf. The little white flowers in full bloom. And one thousand finches in full view. They fluttered and skipped, danced all around. On this little corner, in this little town. In my little yard, outside this little house. We found each other, the universe found us out. The very best of friends, the kind we can never leave. Because when I don’t talk to you it’s like I forget about me. And when I don’t take those moments to acknowledge you’re there, the universe gets dark and empty with despair. And you show up a million different ways to say, “how are you, did you have a nice day?” The kindest feeling one could ever have is in your presence, is on your path. In your Qi, your aura, your energy, your spirit, your light, however it comes, it always comes right. 

tree and me

watch, as the seed takes root.

imposes itself through space. 

in concert with the most wanted nutrients.

it shapes itself according to availability.

and then, again favors a third dimensional journey through space.

and as the tree unfolds a life story,

so to, does its linear application through time begin. 

next door, a woman bears birth.

raises a child who grows in the shadow of the tree. 

begins a friendship and folly around its changing leaves.

the cold winters force the child to forget its outdoor friendship.

he too, experiences a continuity in time.

not to be displaced by abstract form.

they two are different.

they two are the same. 

one moving through seasons and changing in concord with environment.

the other moving through consciousness by transport of body.

both however stuck by the dichotomy of time. 

the municipality of absolute. 

they two are different.

they two are the same.

squirrelly worldly.

Today, I want to look the way I feel,

A mix-tape of American ideals,

Funky patterns,

Shiny shoes,

A strange T-shirt,

and voodoo tattoos.

Today, I want the world to be my stage,

A convalescent neighbor frightened to stay,

Neon highlights,

Spandex galore,

A wild haircut,

and piercing out the door.

Today, I want a stranger to stop by,

Tell me they like how I’m looking so fly.

A silly bandana,

Covered in squirrels,

A subtle reminder,

that I’m as squirrelly as the world. 

Conquer of the Sound

I close my eye,

tune my mind and open my heart,

awash in the soundscape of a broken heart.

Breath in deep through my soul,

fill the empty space with a warm and kind glow, 

‘Alas!’, claim time, further mind go.

Lost in conversation,

between the string of wine and soul.

The sultry nature of your silhouette,

settled profoundly at my windowsill. 

Encompassed by the body of lunar steel,

an ambivalent nature your yellow pants reveal. 

A transcendental journey,

your music does to faith. 

A majestic walk,

my body does take.

Aroused again near the two-bit hotel,

a silent young virgin wallows still. 

Versed in the scripture of love and lust,

a platonic headache endures new trust.

Time has come to settle quandary,

for hours lost labor over the subtle melancholy.

Nuances linger between each touch,

eleven times since our bodies lost lust.

A venture for taste provoked shakti yet,

impermeable membranes our minds project,

caught always between place and time.

Planted with roots,

whose dance through chaos manifest divine. 

To marvel at the cycle of the land lock,

water transpires as one and again as lost. 

those are fighting words.

I won’t start a fight, I won’t do it.

It seems it’s the only thing you know how to do.

Well, me, I’m no good at fighting.

Making peace is my virtue.

But I can’t make peace with your enemies.

The ones that haunt your soul.

Because it’s up to you soldier.

To gain back what you once sold.

I won’t start a fight, I won’t do it.

I couldn’t bear the burden it’d bring.

Because while you are seeking vengeance.

You black out the song I sing.

And I can’t fight your fight for you.

The boundaries just wouldn’t be fair.

Because the only place to take shelter.

Is invisible with despair.

I can’t start a fight, I can’t do it.

I just don’t know how to say, ‘no more.’

Your violence has killed my love.

And now you ask for more.

This battle has finally ended.

And now you’re free to roam.

Rebuild the land that you have broken.

When you gave up on your own soul. 

cosmic coalition.

let your soul breath sweet and sultry subtleties in and out of my world,

meanwhile I will color you a pixel with the most significant depth and twirl,

and together we will make music between the sheets of the unknown,

to follow each other blindly like a ship of harbored souls.

well it wont be an easy challenge,

a task that lays at hand,

to turn love into a market,

we can sell across the land.

so instead we’ll wander freely from sea to shining sea,

collecting pearls of wisdom to trade for beauty and simplicity,

we will tango in the moonlight under a bountiful dark night sky,

and follow dusk to sunrise with only guidance from the light.

well it wont be an easy challenge,

a contest of our skill,

to make melodies sound sweeter,

than a heart of total will.

we will adventure through the majestic in search of an abyss,

a completely untouched notion of lands purified by myth,

sounds we follow blindly touched by an emperor of truth,

guided by the notion that we are tomorrow’s undying youth.

well it wont be an easy challenge,

to dispute the laws of the land,

but together in total harmony,

we unite the cosmos hand in hand. 

the territory that sex owned.

college was the territory that sex owned.

it determined the boundaries.

who was in.

who was out.

college was the stomping ground for experimentation.

it groomed preferences.

who did who.

who liked what.

college was the text book for foreplay.

it transcribed desire.

who knew.

who didn’t know.

college was a myriad of sexuality.

a casting call for making love.

who played what role.

who couldn’t perform.

college was a professor of language.

making dreams a reality.

what you asked.

what you said.

college was an exercise in memory.

alienating no-no’s in sexual conquest.

what they had.

where it came from.

college was a playground for love-archy.

expanding knowledge for pleasure.

why we love.

why they love.

college was an execution of will-power.

creating clarity in the grey area.

what was okay.

what wasn’t.

college was a hierarchy of prowess.

the line between ignorance and education.

why you could.

why they couldn’t.

college was pre-school for sex.

taking “it” seriously.

why should you?

why should I?

college was a degree in human.

infinitely defining needs.

who are you.

who am I.

college was the territory sex owned.

enlightenment in quality.

what is good.

what is bad.

bluebird.

some of us carry our defenses on the outside

because saying goodbye is transcendental

the conscious within relapses the external

his mate forever lost to human intervention

sorrow wallows in the ruffle of a feather

today we learn

the bluebird wears his blues like a coat of armor

facing a displayed series of consequences

where steam dissolves into the background

the pale prairie painted against the window

a sad twist fate has on spring time

for the bluebird and his lover. 

track 01.

I'm starting this blog so I can post poetry, thoughts, ideas, without censorship. Enjoy!