3:05pm - God + Me

You are a rainstorm I'd gladly dance in.
The powerful pour down drenches me --
my clothes -- my hair.
I wear evidence that I did not escape --
I chose to stay.
And before I dry,
I'll take every oppourtunity to dance,
Until someone asks why I've been in the rain -
I'll grab their hand and we'll dance again.

Fences

Is it better to tear down all the walls, or shall we just build a gate?

2:50pm

Are you a burden or a blessing?
A heaven or a hell?
Between the two, I must say --
It's difficult to tell.

23:21 - RIP

I stood upon your grave -
I looked down at all you were
And while it reads:
'He here lies in Peace'
I think them shifty words.

10:27am

One by one the stars went out,
Lights snuffed by the shadow hand.
One by one 'til there was none,
And we sat in darkened land.

I could not see you eye to eye,
Yet your touch was more than enough,
And as you sang me that lullaby
My cries were simply hushed.

“Love, my dear” you said to me, “Will surely lead us through.”
So while this valley may seem deep,
I pour my hopes in You.

12:50am - Hands

I stare at my hands.
The bumps and indents resemble peaks and valleys.
The deep set lines are rivers flowing,
And the fine creases that my eyes strain to see
are streets and paths.

The masterpiece appears to be haphazardly drawn
but on closer inspection the connection is seamless.

These palms are the world,
-- each gesture brings movement to the universe.

I snap and cause sparks and forest fires.
I clap and shift tectonic plates.
When I clench my fists,
I lock up cities to protect them --
And when I open them once more,
the naked fields receive the sun.

I caught the moon between my thumb and forefinger
And so the tides were affected.
I gathered the stars with one wave and then sent them back.

My prints -- I've left everywhere:
The concealed evidence of my existence -
Worlds upon the world,
Upon the railing of the stairwell.

11:45pm - Sipped

She had a mellow meltdown -
Sipping her tea.
She left her biscotti half eaten and she thought about much -
Much about her passing youth,
Much about her failing marriage,
Much about her dead end job,
but mostly much about nothing.
Nothing seemed to fill the everything in her life
and she thought this is why I’m empty -
This is why she did not cry, or scream or throw a tantrum
- this is why she could smile and do small talk with the neighbors
This is why she could sip her tea in a non-chalant fashion
And feed the rest of the bitten biscotti to the dog.
She was neither old nor young – just perpetually in between.
In between what, she could not configure --
She could stay or she could leave but she did neither and either,
And so she kept on sipping her tea -
Sipping her tea -
Sipping her tea -
Sipping and sipping though the cup had long been empty.

3:00am - Hope

Hope is not Hope if it does not persevere.
Hope as a word uttered incites the ability to dream,
- the ability to revolutionize - to shift the wind.

The song in the city resonates and Hope is its chord.

When Hope is not even yet a whisper
The subtle treble strikes fear in depraved men,
and a torrid, inoculable fire in desperate hearts.

Where Hope is found, Hope is given.

2:19am

And I saw stripes - in black and white
A prison in code.
The captive marched on -
Blisters on their soles
Blisters on their souls

Static echoed the concrete halls
Static rang from each corner
The captive chanted on -
The voices aweful
The noises awful.

And I etched hope at the door
And journeyed home to kneel
Till the battle is one --
Till the battle is won.

2:55pm - Oh you don't know.

My caution is the wait.
To be still and stiller,
with no promises, and yet expect.
I can not refund the past
nor define the future
nor read minds
nor force my way --
But to lie in wait
- to be still -
is my audacious gamble -
and my humblest gain.

2:28am

I had a thought once,
but it flew away
Now I think
and it always stays.

1:30am

Bee keeper, Secret keeper,
the busy lips, the hot hazy days
Bare all my inner thoughts
Lost in the bustle and the fuzz
You talk and talk and talk
And I would speak,
Instead I hum -
To your beat
and your buzz.

2:11am - from Dust.

my - dust - wanders - scatters - sinks -
upon your shoulders - you breathe me in
each - speck - of me dances - in - your lungs

Bliss is in these cavities -
But with one breath you breathe -- me out
cast as one body - one heart - one soul

But not whole -- no -- not yet whole.

11:30pm

There is a little light in me
Which flickers in the rain
And thins in heavy blowing wind
And shies by the loud clap

And yet the light survives in rain
The fire burns with might
Whether it be force of nature
Or Human spite or hate

It will not yield -- It will not yield
And while buried in Dark
This tiny little flickering
Will burn unending bright --

1:48am - Travel

Travel is a good companion
Down the winding road
To stop and go, to stop - and - go,
Down the rabbit hole.

Home is where the heart is,
My heart another home
So slide on forward, down the path --
To walk -- to run -- to roam.

11:27am

Outside the house there lies the moat
I’m inside looking out
Separation – is – imminent
I’ve no escape to leave

Upon the walls I write the message
For those who seek to find
Take my bones, my scattered ashes
And leave all else behind

Look not upon the books I’ve read -
My clothes, my bed, my bugs
For those who spend too much time here
Will see there is no door

And you shall lie and lie awake
And pass eternity
Wondering our similar fates
While you collect the dust

I’m gone – so gone –forever now
No bit of flesh to rot
Ages ago I took my bow
And still for you I pray.

10:48 am - Process of Epiphany

A strange light shone upon my face
- I felt its tickled glow
No warmth was felt upon the skin,
Like wisdom on the know

And those eyes could not perceive it
- a dash gone with a clink
And yet my mind did receive it
Its scent sat in to think

A present with a signature
- the cursive marked quite well
that no one could mistake the sign
Of whom the gift to tell.

1:37am

My eyes have been too careless there
To seek the undefined
I'll see and feel the fleeting stare
Of life's nonrhythmic rhyme

Quick, too quick is one single blink
A second is a pause
- And then too quick my feet do sink
Into those hollow jaws

Then yet I'm found on carpet ground
My toes touch friendly firm
Surprise is when I have not drowned
Regret - if I've not learned.

Storyboard: neighbourhood & park

no food. no birds.

between the lines.

bark web.

plan b.

concrete puddle.

don't step on the cracks.

three old friends.

rest.

     I shot these pictures in black and white because the palate of the day was grey. Colour was most definitely welcome but, in the end, not received. The sky and the pavement were matched as though they had called each other the day before to plan how they were to be. I imagined that they were iphone users. The trees were bare and its bark dull, but I took note of any birds-nests: there were 3.
     One of the moments which had impacted me the most was when I spotted a discarded Plan B box atop of a bush in front of the fence of a neighbour's house. This moment felt to me an ironic metaphor of how I tend perceive the world in my most pessimistic moods. I wondered about the woman who had bought the box and used the contents inside. I wondered if she was panicked or if she had taken it calmly as if it were just another pill for another headache. I wondered if she was doing well and prayed that she was happy, or, if not, I prayed that she was at least on her way to a path of joy and love.


     Though I felt melancholic, I walked along with a still peace in my heart and hope in my soul. While the season is empty now, much more will be brought forth in the coming weeks.

Prologue

To chase with all impassioned might
Is for a life to die
But when I've found the threadlike light
In peace of mind I'll lie