This isn’t entirely appropriate to the immediate situation, but we write the jumble of what we feel, and sometimes feelings aren’t chronological. I tried 🤷🏼‍♂️ *sigh*

~~~~~~~

I wish I knew more people led in dreams

I wish there were more of us - no,

I wish I was one of those

whose heart was a rose that was open

I want to make you blush

I want to watch the blood rush

to your face, to your chest,

to your lips, and to the rest

of your body in a confused ecstasy

I want to kiss you sober

That crutch has helped us hobble

long enough

and we may need it again

but for now, let’s wait

just until we can see straight

and then let’s take off in a dead sprint

side by side

into each other

Yes, we feel more pain that way,

but we can also feel the blood

rushing to where we need it most

I want to kiss you sober

over and over until we’re tipsy

from the flow of that blood that’s

pounding in our ears

when our brain finally hears

what our heart’s been trying to say

No words, just a rhythm

This primal, internal wisdom

that this is better than not this

that the touching is better than the not touching

that friction is better than space

that connection is better than distance,

and that our souls and our bodies

are actually the same place

I want to kiss you sober

I’m sorry to admit that I don’t remember

the last time my first time was that way

I think it’s safe, if damning, to say

that it has been years

Years since my ears heard that heart drumming call

Years since I could fall

without thinking about the pain on the other side

So I numb, and I hide

I want to kiss you sober

but I’m afraid

My chest cannot open, and blood can’t

rush anywhere when my lungs fill with fluid

from the drowning of old sorrows

So our tomorrows stay drunk

and my hopes will stay sunk

under the flood of a blood loss to poison

I want to kiss you sober

but we trade shots giving into the noise and

so one or both of us

never is

The Way You See

Your eyes are beautiful from the outside

and in

The way you see the world

The way you see the dust on a

ray of setting sunlight

The way you see a purple thistle

when other people just see something sharp

The way you name the leaves,

the rug, a lone feather,

everything you see you name

with an image,

with an identity beyond any word

or any thousand words could do

You paint kinship with a brush stroke,

a shutter snap, a glance,

a smile

of recognition as you see even a

stranger and can, in one silent look, say,

“Oh, there you are!”

Your eyes were made to be beautiful

and to see beautiful

Your eyes were made to capture

and captivate

To grab hold and pierce through the heart

To pin alive and epiphanize every perfect

passing butterfly immortalized

in your immortal eyes

And now with pen and paper

yourself immortal be

This heartsick writer, he

can’t understand how you can’t see

how beautiful you are

especially

to me

Favorites

I’m not even trying to be creative right now. I’m just going to talk to you through pen and paper as if you were here. As if I could ever talk to you again. As if I could ever see you again, hear you again, smell you again, touch and taste you again. The last time I got to smell you, in particular, you’d applied some sort of jasmine/vanilla perfume - LUSH Lust(?) And here I am drinking my favorite tea, thinking about how luscious you are, how easy it is to lust after you, but how much better than lust it felt to want you. It just felt like a favorite. Like drinking jasmine tea. I want it, I know I love it, so I go and get some. But I can’t have you. I can’t have you.

“Connection

I… crave… every. single. inch of you.”

The last time I got to touch and taste you, I also got to feel the inside of you - but not in the way you were asking for, not in the way I know I wanted when you WEREN’T drunk, not in a way either of us was really expecting anytime soon. I’d had snippets of the inside of your mind, and the inside of your heart, and, I think, the inside of your soul - just a bit. But here you were, the inside of your ambition, the inside of your would-be motivation, the inside of your creation. You told me you’d never shown this to anyone, not even your husband. I told you you were a writer. And I think, in that moment, I got to experience a part of you no one ever had. I had you in a way no one ever had had you. No husband, no lover, no friend. You opened part of yourself to me that I’m not sure you’d ever even asked anyone else to want. I’m sure they would’ve if they’d known it was there, but did they? I did. I knew. I wanted it. With all the rest of you. The you that called herself emotionally unavailable and then bared her soul in ink and paper to me. The you that showed me something of that you that no one else had apparently seen before. But I saw it. And I loved it. I loved YOU then. And I think… I dare to suspect… that through the booze and the hurt and the stress and the sleep deprivation and the struggle and the past and the present… the way you smiled… the way I made you feel… to hear a name for yourself only you and I knew you wanted to be called… I think you loved me then… But then booze and hurt and stress and sleep deprivation and struggle and past and present caught up. And you forgot. You forgot loving me. You forgot touching me and wanting how I touched you and wanting - TELLING me to touch you more. You just… forgot. And when I told you later just a PART of what had happened, you were… embarrassed, and you apologized. You APOLOGIZED! For what will surely remain one of my sweetest of all my many bittersweet memories! For a moment that meant SO much to me, and in THAT moment, CLEARLY meant a lot to you! But then you woke up from that dream. You felt caught and embarrassed and the need to be responsible. And you shut off. A part of you that I’d lit up and brought life to in a name went back to the dormant, dusty parts of us with all that we’ve sacrificed in the name of a supposed self-preservation. These things secretly killing us while they’re dying to be named and introduced to the world that we stifle and silence because they feel to us like a naked tightrope walk. But instead, we choose to keep our feet on the ground and put some clothes on. I can only just begin to tell you the depths to which I long to see you naked. I… CRAVE… EVERY. SINGLE. inch of you! Inside. And out. Soul, spirit, mind, body, you are ALL beautiful to me. One of those damnably rare all-beautiful creatures that I crave, that I long for, that I hope and literally pray for. Did you know that? I know I’d said it, but did you actually believe it? I’ve prayed for you. I’ve prayed for you since I met you, and I’m pretty sure I’ve prayed for you since before I actually knew you existed. But then, there you were. And I couldn’t have you. So, were my prayers wrong, or were you?

I simply can’t have you.

Your lips rest open, parted
Between them, a breath is held
All in this one, long second, I hold a new memory
A thought of your lower lip as
the shelf on which the world rests
Heavy and supple to cushion the great
weight of souls and continents, hopes and every ocean
Every living thing and every dream exhaled
by the mountains of tectonic shift
But lighter, smaller, this lip captures
my imagination, my wishes,
my naughtiest and sweetest fantasies alike
Your lower lip supports this heart of mine
held tight between these teeth of yours
That lip has annexed my amygdala
straight through to the frontal lobe of a brain
that’s lost its words and doesn’t even care what’s good for it anymore
I am completely at your disposal
But lighter, smaller, this lip
swells, shines slightly, and beyond language begs
for mine to surround it
The taste of every comfort
But lighter, smaller, this lip is
sublimely, simultaneously fragile
Soft
And sensitive even to the passing of the
gentle breath you now release
Your lips rest open, parted
Between them, our breathing flows
All in this one, infinite second, we hold a new memory

“Third Shift Blues”

I sink down as the sun slowly starts to rise
I sink down as the sun slowly starts to rise
If I lose my mind, you know it will be no surprise

I’ve been living in the dark, and sleeping all the light away
I’ve been living in the dark, and sleeping all the light away
Only come alive at night and feel dead all through the day

Chorus:
Got these third-shift blues
And nothing I do
Can keep my sorry head sane
Lost more than I’ve gained
The wheel’s turning endlessly
You know it stole the best of me

The light of my life is the glow coming out of my phone
The light of my life is the glow coming off of my phone
I pray for good connections, but I only feel more alone
I said, I prayed for good connections, but it only made me feel more alone

Chorus

Afraid I’ll never learn that the candle doesn’t burn at both ends
Afraid I’ll never learn that the candle doesn’t burn at both ends
I see everyone on edge, we have security but insecure friends

Chorus

How much is the light in your eyes worth?
How much is the light in your eyes worth?
How much is the light in your eyes worth?
How much is the light in your eyes worth?

“Confession”

It’s almost like being a Christian
should be phrased as a confession
Which raises a lot of questions
What did I ever do to you?
How did we get here?
Didn’t a lot of us help come up with science?
Didn’t a lot of us help come up with this free country
built on tolerance and diversity?
How did the people of the clean slate
become the people of bigotry and hate?
some might say, the people of the red state?
And oh wait! What’s more, just to add
to our deficit score,
HOW IN GOD’S NAME did
81% of white evangelicals vote for Donald Trump?!
How!?
How IN GOD’S NAME??

It’s almost like being a Christian
should be phrased as a confession
Bless us, Culture, for we have gone
in so many wrong directions
We went right when it looked like we should go left
We went East when the angel said to go West
We went low when it was better to go high
And when you showed us you were hungry, naked, and cold,
we closed our eyes
Because when you were hungry,
your poverty isn’t up to me, it’s up to you!
Surely, there must be more YOU could do!
Like when you’re cold, well,
you should’ve just done as you were told and
stayed in the slums -
and God forbid my taxes go to make sure your water runs!
God forbid…
Oh, and don’t even get me started about when you’re naked!
You Hollywood brood of vipers whores of Babylon,
DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT A SIN SKIN IS?!
DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT THE KIDS?!
Don’t you know they look up to you?!
But God knows, that might be a good thing, too
Because I’m not convinced they should look up to us,
the ones they’re SUPPOSED to trust
Parents, pastors, priests, whole parishes,
ugliness not so much garish as
hypocritical
Childhoods hyper-digital
as kids only see virtual reality
and lead virtual lives
as they, too, learn to block their eyes
with their phones
as everyone everywhere only feels more disconnected and alone
Learning by bad example to be, if not hypocrites, at best, flakey
… Besides, have you seen the culture WE put out lately!?

It’s almost like being a Christian
should be phrased as a confession
Will we ever learn our own lessons?
All these things I say to you,
will I ever turn around and actually do?
“Be ye doers of the word and not hearers only”
If I hear and just keep between my ears
something I’m supposed to give,
something that’s meant to be lived,
well, it’s no wonder we’re all lonely!
‘Cause, spoiler alert, kids!
What’s supposed to be lived,
all that it really is,
beginning and end, Alpha and Omega, the Way, the Truth, the Life,
and all that it ever was
was LOVE
Ohhh, that same old thing, but what does it mean,
how does it work, do only some get it,
and how do I give it all that I’ve got?
Well, here’s something you haven’t heard from us a lot:
I don’t know
None of us really KNOW
Not you, not me
We all just keep trying to be
whatever it takes to survive
And you and God forgive me, I’ve
done, and seen, and overlooked, and tacitly permitted,
complicitly and purposely perpetrated
some truly evil shit
And I’m not OK with it
But I think that the best and all we can ever do
is try to do better tomorrow
And that’s this broken gospel that I borrow

It’s almost like being a Christian
should be phrased as a confession

“Fall Song”

This hoodie’s got stains as old as our sins
These memories remain like the scar on your chin,
The scabs on your knees from the carpeted floor,
The way I’d say please when you forgot to lock your door

Chorus:
I like the rain
Bring me the gloom
These leaves will change
The mud will be here soon
But it’s good to see the sun sometimes

Your car is a mess, and so is your head
That’s perfect, I guess; let’s get messy instead
Of keeping it clean according to some
Who don’t know what it means to have our wrong kind of fun

Chorus

I’ll take most of the blame
And you’ll say, “Me too”
Go for walks with our shame
At least every fall is new

Chorus

where I comes from and where I goes

Feeling swallowed in the belly of the beast

This Little GRusalem can feel like a little Middle East

So you still think that only Muslims are scary?

Wait til you have eyes to see how

Christians vary

like Sufi monks to ISIS

And I’m living in a city of identity crisis

Or maybe that’s just me

Getting too caught up in I-D-E-N-T-I-T, WHY?

Where’m I from? Where’m I going? Who AM I?

But that only matters in light of who I AM to YOU and GOD

And I am at my best when to see you it’s odd

To imagine you as separate from Him

When the veil gets so thin

til its torn

And we are ALL in the most holy place

In no way disconnected in time or space

The three become one

You, me, He, DONE

Holy and wholly completed, separation defeated, IT IS FINISHED

And I am diminished when I forget this

An I AM diminished when I forget this

But don’t let me be swallowed and wallow and regret this

Just give me more you

And I’ll give you more me

And that’s how I becomes we

mildly obsessed, majorly compelled, and moderately disordered

You can forget how compelling certain humans are until you catch them in the corner of your eye in a crowded room and only AFTER you can’t help but look do you realize you hope it’s not them because then they’ll be in the corner of your eye for the rest of the night.

“Freestyle”

Freestyle
words around a theme
Mimicked words re-shared like a meme
Words played out like Carl Jung picked the teams
Teamed up, dreamed up, so maybe it was Freud
Is my idea original?!? I’m so damn paranoid
Spoken from the id, or was it my ego?
I had an inspiration, but where did he go?
Lost in all these thoughts trying to bury my fear
I paused for a reflection, but I’m not seeing me clear
Call me self-obsessed, but I’m just trying to be honest
And I’ll admit that even I find my shit obnoxious
I’d ask forgiveness for my faults, but you say I’m too self-conscious
Well, all I really want to tap into is consciousness
Ids hid inside, hide egos,
don’t deride, sometimes we go
wide-eyed along for the ride
just trying to do our best
And at the end of the day
maybe we should just STOP
and say
We are all in this together
And we can all make each other better
Many people have suggestions for how to go about that
Assumed authority, answered questions, but I’m not about that
Insecurity has its virtues, and I dive into it
Embrace the blindness, stretch your hand out, let intuition intuit
The words may come, but they also may go
The sentiments we never meant to say, they may show
The feelings we were steeling ourselves against now may flow
Relaxed into the true things that all of us know
No invective
Self reflective
We see only the collective
And then we find the blockages have all opened up
Any hospitality stoppages clear out when human is enough
All the ways we forgot what we were about after a while
Will seem a bad dream when clean words pour out
free-style

a Facebook post after a dream after things I’ve probably ruined forever

***Pointless emo-ness warning!***

🤷🏼‍♂️

So, before going to sleep last night, I saw this picture of a person I once completely fell for. Tried not to, knew I shouldn’t, did. After that person was already out of my life, in MULTIPLE occurrences of alcohol-fueled self-hatred, I set to work burning a bridge that probably wasn’t even THERE let alone in need of being burned. The expected deafening silence followed each time. As it should’ve (this is a smart woman). So, I see this picture, fall asleep, and wake up this morning with the last dream I remember being me responsible for another awful thing in this person’s life IN person and this time not even meaning to. The last thing I remember is dreaming the horrified, disgusted, angry expression on her face. Minutes after waking up - maybe seconds - my hyper-monogamy-oriented brain snaps to the person I was most recently “with,” and how I may never see THAT person again and the deafening silence I seem to have earned from THAT person and how I’m honestly not even sure how these things happen anymore. What ruts I might still be stuck in. What patterns I may, apparently, be incapable of changing in my life. How often it is that JUST when I think I’m OK, when I think I’m about the least lonely I’ve ever been, some incredible, beautiful, engaging, challenging person comes into my life and isn’t available or shouldn’t be available or leaves or gets pushed away by these deep and still deeply broken parts of me.

And I don’t have a resolution for this post. Probably because I don’t have a resolution for this part of my life 😳😖😜 But here it is, and here I am, exposing myself again because - like ruining relationships with beautiful humans - that’s just what I do sometimes.

lol But hey… a guy can dream 😒🙄😉😜

A couple of these memory things have had really good timing the past couple days 😔
I am so overwhelmed. Pretty much constantly lately. It’s like my brain, my spirit just can’t catch its breath. I’m not going to list off all the things overwhelming me, and I’m not going to count my blessings either. But somewhere in between are these other struggling people, these ugly beautiful humans who can meet me in weakness and stubborn fragility to say (or better yet, not have to say), “I’m here. I know.” Two or three specific persons are coming to mind, but I won’t embarrass them with a tag 😉😜  Suffice it to say, the broken people who can’t quite stop loving even when they’re bad at it and everything else, those are my people. The brave faces with battered hearts who know how to be vulnerable even if they don’t know when. The risk takers who do “the wrong thing” to make sure you’re alright. The becomers. The shabby. I have such a Real love for you right now, and I hope you understand. ❤️

Glad to spend time with family I won’t be seeing much for quite a while, but outside of that, I just feel bombarded by things I COULDN’T do tonight or CAN’T do seemingly ever and a massively overwhelming sense of having NO control in my life. Or what little I can control, I get wrong somehow. I’M NOT LOOKING FOR PITY. Just assume that I’M NEVER LOOKING FOR PITY. But I have to voice this crap sometimes (sure, more often than not) because the ONLY sense I can seem to make out of my life for SO long has just been that, at the VERY least, I hope that being honest and candid about what I’m feeling might, MIGHT make somebody else feel *slightly* better about whatever they’re feeling. And less pseudo-altruistically - less like some misguided martyr - telling my story (however pathetic the story) feels a tiny bit like control. So, things go wrong, sometimes REAL wrong, and I whine about it. Kinda publicly. And I get it out of my system for little bits at a time, and you roll your eyes at me, or you pity me, or maybe you genuinely sympathize and feel better because at least ONE other poor fool seems to get it. I don’t know. And I’m pretty sick of caring. Sometimes life is exultant and we rejoice, and sometimes it’s shit, and we mourn, and I’m just gonna keep making it more or less my business to write about both. If that bothers you, go away. Go play cool somewhere else. I’m gonna keep staring ahead in a room lit only by a screen and throw words at whoever might want or need (or whatever) to read them. Tonight, I didn’t get to do a thing I’d been REALLY looking forward to for a while because of a bunch of different reasons, but mostly bc I’m broke and scared of spending money because I’m bad at money. Meanwhile, I sat at a table with people I love trying to be OK with accepting generosity and companionship no matter how much my fractured ego may kick against both. And that’s my life right now. I’m not asking for anything. I hope you are well.💔❤️

“Circles” [w/ Kelsey Pray]

The circles we talk in
The circles we walk in
The circles we all leave behind
The problems we earn
We’ve missed every turn
‘Cause we’ve been ignoring the signs

Chorus:
Give up my way til it hurts
Breathe in and exhale with the earth
Bodies at rest keep resting unless
We float with the current’s rebirth

The self we project
The self we protect
The self that we fight to define
The sorrows we drown
The arms we lay down
The conscience we wash with the tide

Chorus

Bodies of water, mostly of water
Filling the hole in the whole of your core
Bodies in motion remain in motion
Give up your ground and go with the flow

Chorus