Learning to Speak

This sounds unreal
and I blot out my options,
I have wanted to feel
and felt it as it passed through me for years.
And in that moment when the tea-cup left my hand
I remembered knowing.
And in feeling through my options I picked a hard line
that I am now sowing from.
To draw my clouds on
and cutting through their material bits softening.
Inside the rotten machine,
left to drown,
but instead raising out of it to sit
on rising suns and place bets
on the color of sets.
Who sink down to deep oceans
and rest in golden chests
at the bottom of steep slippery slopes.
It's no joke,
how the sea-critters crawl around
with immense pressure.
And how much air there is
to push between us before touching.
Tips of fingers on ceilings,
holding a pose for others to know.
And how can things get this funky?
That bass just knows how to flow
and make an ambush on stillness.
Let me sit babbling next to your brook
and cripple down the creek
for the time to speak.
See the jets go past
and seek the shady nooks
inspiring characters, who cave.
Popping out of fairy-tales on bike trails
while it all just is and revolves naturally
as jazz is.
Passes through me for years.
I have wanted to feel in love.
Which is not outside the front door
or down the street.
It can never be beat,
from the dark corners of our mind.
I seem desperate to try
to keep this rhym
so let me repeat
that I have felt it pass through,
me.
>*
*<>*
<*
Seeing the arrow landing in my hand
while venturing into a thicket too deep.
Sorting leaves into neat piles for pickup.
Never to look up for parting clouds
that separate down to wisps that wander.
After skipping, I sink these feelings
and ask how the psyche is
while hanging upside down
and eating nothing
but apples.
We are gardeners of the mind,
anticipating the end times,
and learning to balance
every second of hysterical chatter
with meaningful happinstance.
Guy crouches by the gutter on the side of the road
reaching in his bag for substance,
his fingers find a hole.
You do not have to search hard,
high and low
to find what you love.
It is what you know
and where you go
in your sleep.
We both understand our inner animals
that choke and swallow the sheep
that surround and scatter in despair
that we share while the world keeps turning.
Snow and rain combine over brick and cobblestone.
Your feet step onto intricate symmetry,
Realize where you are hypnotized and you are lonely.
Empty but full of thoughts
pouring over and out onto the streets
not to become another brick in their wall or sidewalk
so you go to wonderland and follow
rabbit turds instead of sheep tracks,
meanwhile the wild geese fly overhead with magnetic focus
on their migration of puddle hops.
Take a bite of the mushroom before turning out the lights.
Join the animals in this kingdom of confusion
and misleading illusion,
where self stares into self for hours
that feel
like days.