next step

what are your plans, what do you intend to do?
i plan to have a property with a nice big view
of my garden, my plants will grow so huge they harken
back to nathaniel hawethorn tapped land scapes darkened
by their own shadows, hallowed by the sallow
color of light of the seasons, my reason tarot
in essence will bear fruit of the marrow
of my life and desire to incite
revolution of it's own means, contrite
in it's own scenes of me as a being
of a life i never dreamed or could bring
into existence without experience as a guide
so i push forth never caring to hide
from what may come my way
or how to sway the waves or how the day
impacts my way of understanding,
so i'm handing you the book on interpreting my views,
first look at life as a set of facts,
then look at it with emotions in tact,
then you do a personal review of past life,
then incorporate what you feel you know as strife,
then mix it all up and figure what you can,
then lay it all out so as to scan the whole plan
of everything you've done leading to what you want,
and from there you can find what you desire and brought
to get what you need, it's the method and speed of truth
that brings us to stop signs as youth,
and as grown folks we can stab or poke
at those same beliefs to bring about relief
from the malaise we feel or hope to peek
with as we work to bring rifts
of happiness into our drift,
either way we always move on to the next gift,
life is as simple or as hard as we wish,
whatever comes we all have a full plated dish

weed

i enjoy the smell, enjoy the taste,
i love the stupid look across my face,
i love the way my head feels wrapped
in comfort and joy, i enjoy the tapped
top of a beer bottle feeling
that has me relaxed and oh so appealing
warmth that has a stork flying hi to stealing
stars out the sky with ideas and arms of love,
feeling my thoughts rising high above
any i had in a sober state,
and damn it, it feels great,
i love how i feel high on weed,
you can keep your coke and speed,
i know what i can handle and need,
keep your ecstasy, heroin, and greed,
i proceed through life with clear sights
and i write to you with light sometimes in bytes
colored by greens, you know what i mean,
and so i proceed to bring visions of dreams
i feel in a manner that does seem to deem
me as your guide in a lyrical ride
as i describe all i see and confide
about my life as i view it,
and you can do with it
whatever you wish,
i lay it out in a dish
of morsels for your prevue,
so make of it whatever you wish to,
either way i'm here
putting words out to you

greens

jazz musicians brought me this to smoke,
beat nicks brought me words, many i spoke,
counter culture survives through decades that choke
out the vibes and tides i ride as i tithe and bribe
my mind with a toke or two or a few into a ride
of relaxation, concentration, a life of foreignication
littered with intoxication, prognostication
became a way of life, dissecting all in my sight
of wrong and right, dark and light, love and spite
it's these greens that bring me right
round again to myself and friends in respite,
we smoke and share, we toke and care,
avoiding the glare of other drugs cuz we're there,
where we need to be, no more or less to see,
and forever we shall be
pot heads

mio

by seeing all the options laid out
i see what i'm breathing and talking about,
i see why i do and i build and i'm here
to stir shit up till nothing's unclear,
i am here to be me as none other before
just raising up bars and tearing up floors

interviews

they line up,
every one a mouth breather,
like deer in the headlights,
and the dance,
and they sing,
and inside i am astounded
at their mediocrity

tides

paths overlap like neuron's synapse,
we all interact and collapse and retract
and reconnect all over again,
but the pull back hurts every time my friend,

just like sand being drug out to sea
i see parts of me, little parts of scenes
that construct a much broader picture,
all encompassing of the scriptures

littered and personified by the stories
that we write while walking with no worries,
only focused on the moment at hand,
until the moment's gone and we scan

the remains of the day as they lay
all about, it seems they display
what we're all about undisturbed,
it's the only sense we can make of life's blur

day dreaming

sitting and staring at a forest of realization
i see every tree for what it is,
a pillar of lessons absorbed,
i stand up to walk through clouds
but can't help to think my footing isn't secure

lila

rapid movement mixed with music,
silky symmetry, so pretty, she moves it,
and by it i mean the crowd,
she grasps their hearts while loud
imagery is proudly pronounced by her voice,
it's as if she takes time to anoint
every one in the audience
with a blessing of her benevolence,
and we showed our reverence by dancing in the isles,
the gift of music and good people forces you to smile

fingernail dirt

wrapped around the idea of it all
i find myself,
draped across images i imagined,
soaped up and washed clean
with self told lies,
life unfolds as i do

la india

the road stretched out before her feet
and the weight on her back got heavier,
there were many miles to go before she'd meet
the destiny she'd pursued when healthier

in mind and body, time hadn't been kind to her
but oddly she paid no mind, it was really just a blur
of traveling through lands shaken and stirred
by unrest and poverty haunting the herds

of humanity, her family were now nomads,
they laid claim to all and no lands,
all she had in life is in her two hands,
so she walks into an unknown expanse

flying over vegas

a billion stories unfold on the roads below,
countless street lights melt into one singular glow,
clouds litter the sky and shade while moving slow,
life is teeming endlessly but from here you'd never know

seeing outside

just standing there overlooking it all,
never moving, resting while standing tall,
this tree outside my window keeps me company

family trees

i see a family tree wrought from blood and hard work,
but birthing a scene of discombobulation and mirth,
i don't know how to make that tree grow to birth
the image that the seed planters had dreamed,
i know that the image they hoped to see breathed
in family love while exhaling profits,
so the topic of conscious love crossed with droplets
of management and torrents of cash flows
is something i need to grow from my conscious
now

confusion

she was scared, her thoughts made no sense,
and she knew it so, scared and incensed
she hid in her house where fewer movements go
much further with shorter distance, she couldn't alert
her family to be around to see
that she wasn't able to be the person she knows herself to be,
she's aware of what she does and how she's supposed to be,
so she lies and she hides, she tries to present who they want to see,
it's hard to watch her walk to this place of newly discovered strife,
mostly because she's always been my rock in life

simple stroll

wandering down these lazy dark streets
i see the night breeze as it rises up to meet
and stroll with me, bathed in moon beams,
she and me we see dreams
doggie paddle through the seas
of wind all around us

happy hour

i felt the sonic vroom,
that feeling when your heads laid back
and you feel the pulsing boom
that pushes you past levels of sobriety
stacked as the thing that you grasped
as limits of reality,
whoa,
take stock of this moment and see
that you earned this through hard work
and really deserve to really just be
free with your time and your mind set,
aint nothing wrong with going to get
a glass to relax or a bowl to unroll or
to meditate on thoughts that congregate for
the purposes of teaching us about our day,
don't swallow that shot of dismay
served by those who love to nay say,
what they say about you polluting yourself
and sobriety at all times aint gonna help
you deal with your life or to just relax,
so pour one for me
and then slam it back

windy lullaby

the wind blows and pushes it's body against my windows,
it won't stop leaning, i hear it's heart beating
in the form of branches tapping out batches
of beats so sweet they sweep me into sleep

i eye

i am the silence of the night made audible,
i am a life lived that some would call laudable,
i am what i am and i scan what i can so to jam
as much experience in this moment as possible,
word

stat tracking

i see you through digital sunglasses,
sifting through your imprints in numeric form,
i tear up the clues to paint you perfectly,
and i will capture you,
hold no doubt,
i am coming

lost

his heart raced and his eyes got big,
lost in the store, a panicked & lonely kid
darted about hoping to see his mom,
far removed were recollections and calm,
he raced down every aisle
yelling her name out, all the while
tears streamed down his face,
his lips trembled,
this was his very first taste
of terror

seepy

there she sits on eyelids so heavy,
the mistress named sleep,
i reach for her completely ready
to hold her close in my keep,

she teases me at times
and plays hard to get,
i know how to make her mine
i just haven't done it yet

rain ramble

it's speaking by tapping messages intently,
close your eyes and listen,
it's says to nap gently,

it's suggesting the fetal position
under a warm blanket, while the tv quietly
plays but doesn't have your attention,

the sounds you hear are from another rainy day,
witness voluminous clouds floating gray
slowly drifting away,

i breath in this day and close my eyes
to remember this moment when nothing is dry,
and everything shines

rain drop talk

softly stuttering, staggered while sky diving,
drip drop, drip drop,
ploddingly plopping plump bodies upon earth,
drip drop, drip drop,
pounding out patterns of rhythm with their flight,
drop drip, drop drip,
moving monotonously monotoned while splashing on my home

story without a face

there was intense meaning in the eyes,
they held a memory once thought lost,
her gaze was directed at the skies,
as breath left her body on the night air's frost,

on the day she died
not a soul knew about it nor cared,
and so she lies
buried with a life of stories unshared

rain's on its way

i know you're about to come by for a while,
i can smell it on the breeze,
and i'm anxiously awaiting your arrival,
gray skies are such a tease

showroom lessons

working side by side for so very many lifetimes,
two brothers wind around
like the two hands on a time piece, bound
as we proceed to smash on projects,
we learn that work isn’t activity of the thoughtless,
good honest smarter than harder work ought bless
the one making progress in it,
and it does, you’ve felt yourself enjoy it,
few things feel as good as a job well done,
it gives warmth inside, like a turtle’s shell in the sun,
it makes you feel gratified, satisfied,
it resides inside of us as such
because we know exactly how rough
shit can get, we get tired of the tough
and heavy steps we have to take many a day,
we know the toll we pay to race away
what we got for time in this lifeline,
so we find a kernel of appreciation for self
when we set a goal, conquer it, and then help
ourselves to a little inner glow,
it’s just how we roll when we star
in a scene in our own life,
as opposed to being an extra barely in sight

friends fall off

some fall off because they have to,
a new love commands all of their view,
some fall off because they're too blue
to fulfill what true friendship needs you
to do, others drop off the map
because they don't want any more of your crap,
while others simply fade away from memory
as easily as they slipped in your life, effortlessly,
friends come in to sight, and some friends leave,
not all, but many, it's just like the seas,
tides drive in and touch the shore, then pull out,
coerced by the moon they're torn away from grout
like sediments of emotion, and only some devout
family chosen remains to stay with us when darker days
come our way, so appreciate those friends that stay
and understand the lessons of those who went away

life soundtrack

there is a hidden treasure lurking between the sounds
of simple notes and measures, bass lines make the pound,
pound, pounding sound of your heart match your feet,
everything swings into tune as your body sways to meet
music, embrace it, grab it's hips, face it
you were born to dance, bred to fall into a trance
of written notes mixed with time, both designed
and framed by our body and mind interpretation of sound,
bound by this sacred marriage to music we've found
our ears caressing songs, our mouths singing along,
there are few things as strong as music's effect
on our dialect, how we introspect, and connect
in social settings, or even how we drive in our cars,
if music was a prison we'd all be trapped behind the bars
of our favorite songs

almost closing time

pushing through to the end of the work day,
my body is exhausted, brain feels pain
either from lack of use or overuse, it's true,
my ass is really dragging and clock-out time's in view,
i really should work harder to have less work tomorrow,
but i'm really not feeling that, i know time is borrowed

memorizationality

mental pistons firing, thoughts compiling,
brain waves filing away the results of the tumult
caused by central processing demands,
the cerebral cortex is not an open hand,
it is an iron fist driving us forward,
demanding that we think, pushing us toward
the next conclusion,
a memory is created

remembering

sliding scenes of frozen memories
pool together and become solid
as time's cold breeze batters them,
passion is lost in the ticking of the clock,
colors fade on pictures of the past,
we never stop

ideal shit

ideals are like dog shit littered around a yard,
effective when hot and soft, but eventually hard
crust develops making minds rigid and scarred,
unable to adapt because ideal's can't see that far

working it out

thing's are going to work out, i watch 'em unfold,
they're gonna go about doing what they're told
by you in your actions, words, and intentions,
gonna march in lock step in whatever direction
you decided this ship will sail in

waiting on the fall

i want to feel the sensation of cold breezes on my back,
i want to feel the warmth of my sweater hold it at bay,
i want to see the sky go gray and hear the pouring rain,
i want this fall to get going already,
damn it

chain gang

nerves packed tightly,
and shoulders start to tense,
nothing's taken lightly,
and there seems to be pretense
of expected tasks not being done,
smugly she looks down her nose at one
after another on the assembly line floor,
none are willing to put out any more
cuz the pay sucks

blocks

building blocks are in every woman and mans hands,
formed and worn by times sands,
blocks of images, emotion, esteem,
blocks telling us what we mean
to ourselves and those who surround us,
they're flexibly defined not like metal busts,
we can break these blocks and redefine
ourselves to display how we crave to shine,
it aint easy, in fact it takes great work
because breaking down blocks means facing up hurts
and self worth ideas we hold in our minds,
but it's worth it since breaking blocks exposes the divine
basis of homeostasis we all need to find
if we really want to change and really to define
life on terms we crave and hope to see,
our existence is what we choose and work to be

autumn thought

seasons change and rearrange the stage
we stand on, comprehend on, as moons stay long
in the sky we bend to meet mornings light,
and mend ourselves so to invite a delight
that only cool winds can bring,
like pools if tin ideas sting
when we dive into summer time ideals,
it's time to move on like natures wheels,
greens turn to brown, sweaters drape over gowns,
smiles turn to frowns as loved ones come inside
to visit and confide what was lost
when the weather was hot