What’s best

you can rain on me if you want to
bring the sky onto the ground
you can be the hate 
you can be the storm
you can be the pain if you want to
but you won’t tear me down
you won’t scare me away
this time I am sure as the sunrise
I’m as firm as the tree roots
as steady as wind blows
no hail, harm or force could change that
I know this is where I’m supposed to be
don’t warn me of the darker days
don’t tell me you know better
your floods won’t wash me away
I’ll follow my heart to the ends of the earth
no matter what you say

Predicting clear skies and good visibility…

Take it all in like a photograph in your mind
because from these heights you run the risk of falling
but for those brief seconds where gravity forgets you exist
when upwards is the only direction and everything that once was
are just snapshots, stories tales and faded memories
it’s here in momentary suspension where perfection and harmony collide
where a breath is not a moment but an inhalation of a lifetime
and everything you ever needed you already have
so needing no longer presses on your chest and weights you down
blink not, move not, think not, feel not – just let it all be
let the world give, let the world take, and never look down

This is How We Say Goodbye

It’s not what you told me
It’s what’s I wanted to hear
My voice echoes off into the night
And in this night there is no response
Only the patter of the rain
Only the whispering of memories
Repeating back to me, repeating back to me
Because I just wanted for the sake of wanting
And I’ll drown myself in the river if I have to
Just because the water is so warm
and I can’t imagine a better day to go down stream
To float away while you still know the sound of my voice
It’s as fresh and as real as the smile on your face
So I sit by the shore and i count the sunsets
Each time the sun fades so don’t you

(Source: Flickr / rosie_hardy, via loveyourchaos)

Descending

This landslide of disappointments keeps taking me down
slippery slope of mud filled with false promises they told me
and at the bottom I am buried alive
heavy is the weight of a thousand halfhearted words
rinse off the dirt, pronouns, syllables and verbs
wash away the memory with soap and time
this déjà vu plays like a broken record in my mind
the top looks like a memory or a childish dream
how reckless can this heart be
to ascend a mountain in the poring rain
with nothing but hope to protect me

A New Beginning

Let’s reinvent the wheel and find a different way to get from point A to B. Let’s forget everything we were told in the past and carve in a new stone. Maybe we can forsake the ground - it was always to hard for these dreams and aspirations. These hands unwashed by oceans far away, swim in shallow waters for fear of the deep. But it’s out there in the middle of it all, where the bottom is to far to fathom and memories are erased. It’s where the sky touches the ground and gravity pulls us in all directions. This is our purpose. This is our destination. This is where we really feel alive. But first, we must find a better way.

This time

give me the strength
to stand on these two feet
to weather the rain and the storms
to fight the wind and pain
and to see through the clouds
give me the knowledge
that this too shall pass
and through it all there is light
small and dim and distant
but it is there
give me the patience to understand
that nothing great was made in a day
but each one upon the next
reaching up into the sky
to make that tiny spec of a star
shine as bright as the sun
give me everything you’ve got
the worst, the best, the in between
this time I am ready
so give me it all

My mind never seems to want to be where it is. Sometimes I feel like I’m just holding on to it for dear life. As if one day it might float away into outer space. Envision an old weathered cowboy trying to lasso a wild horse. Some things in life are just futile. It’s the calm in the storm that is my destination. And as if I’m a glutton for punishment, I strangely enjoy pushing myself beyond it’s capacities. Sometimes it’s nice to feel even if it might be distress.

Unrest

I hear it all
smashing and clamoring
striking a tin can on the bars
ringing down the long hallways
and empty corridors of my complacent mind
trapped in a cell of norms
with sharp picket fences and temporary faces
the kind that smile and fade away
the kind that turn and talk
with stubbly beards and worn hands
backs of fingers and sandpaper scrapes
the incessant sounds will not be ignored
tap, tap tapping on my sub conscience
all the distractions of the traffic passing by
guttural motors and swooshing tires
or the tick tick ticking of the radiator
loud reminders of place and time
I bury my feet in wool socks and good intentions
beneath blankets high with downy love
but it will not silence it
it will not even mute the sound
a caged bird chirp chirp chirping
soft billowy feathers and high pitched moans
who am I to keep it all inside
who am I to let it all go

Shattered Glass

I will always endure great sadness in my life
as everyone leaves, as everyone leaves
from the shores of my own institution
what I gather from the sandy beaches
are fragments of shells of what once was
put them together but they never are whole
bits of bodies from scattered lives
a mosaic of broken pieces struggling to make one
a patch work quilt tells an epic story
but the stitches never bridge the gaps
fuse not the shores of these continents
so I morn the passing ships that anchor for a day
sell their wares and fade into the sunset
another shattered glass reflecting on the ground
pick it up and keep on walking
in search of arms that do not erode

Dream For Me

I don’t dream so much, anymore. Not like when I was younger. Back when my room was painted in a pale shade of green – which to my parents dismay, I had covered with (what I considered) brilliant works of art. Acrylic paint in every shade and on every surface illustrating an endless imagination.

Now my walls are white and every image is held in sharp clean frames. No untamed markers, no spontaneous globs of paint and no clippings of magazines adorn the walls any longer. Though, I must say, it looks much nicer this way – I can’t help but feel that it mirrors much more than my years of maturity. Every image contained and controlled and strategically placed at eye level.

Don’t get me wrong, my life is wonderful and I’m grateful for everyday I rise and every night I rest my eyes. But I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia for those insensible, unobtainable and uncensored dreams. I can’t help but miss that fading teal color that seemed to represent the naive sense of endless possibilities. An imagination untainted by the world and the work week. A mind without limitations or boarders. I always hated those green walls until I had ones with no color at all.

Lessons Learned

1. Hard work really does pay off.
2. You cannot change people, the key is to like them just the way they are.
3. If you want something, go out and get it, believe recklessly that you can achieve it and don’t be afraid to look foolish along the way.
4. There is no need to rush. Stop and smell the roses, take your time when getting to know someone and let food cool so you don’t burn your tongue.
5. Worrying has no purpose or use, it will only keep you up at night.
6. Almost doesn’t count, so just do it.
7. The world rewards action.
8. Holding an Oreo in milk for more than 12.5 seconds leads to cookie disaster.