For Iz 1:55am

Could you be more curious
as you scurry from point A to point B
taking the most scenic route
Touching mountains, grass and trees --
Could you be more free to explore
To turn the world with the palm of your hand
and to look with a panoramic view of the sky
Wide-eyed, soaking in solar gold
Your skin bears evidence to where you've been
All those outs and ins
Scrapes on knees and dirt caked on heels
And still you've got places to go
You follow your nose
to where the air wafts the scent of adventure
Beauty without censure--
That is what you see
Before you flit off to spectacular
I'd love if you brought with you me.

9:52pm

The problem with poetry is I'm too within them
I give away secrets
that I trust no one else to keep.
So if my writing ceases,
the truth is I'm biting my tongue.
The words suffer
when transparency is not optional.

9:42pm

Still hangs in the room, in the air
Every surface is familiar, but unnatural
Or maybe I'm just too aware of my own skin
Whatever it is - I stand my ground
in the absence of courage.
Cowardice wearing bravery --
Trading wool for grays.

10:01pm

Well, wherever you've been
You'll find new doors
Seeking not the quickest out
but finding pathways in.

3:37pm

I'll send out only the best wishes,
Out into the vast open
With hope they reach those blinking lights
and make it home
So when you look up
You'll know.

10:26am - Moon River remix

Wider than a mile,
Oh I'm chasing down that cratered dream.
Streaming consciousness;
live and on an endless ream.
Adding white to meaner reds,
Since I've flown by the blues
I stare into the tinted glass
and with a smug, little wink
I wave hi to all that brass and bling
and wear my canvas pink.

12:36am

A moment of --
Digging my toes into the cool green blades,
Catching the scent of kettle corn,
mixed with the freshness of the lake
A breeze hits the apples of my cheeks
and gently shakes the leaves
I listen to the orchestra
and they play with the fervent love of art
and appreciation --
Joy.

10:12am

Assumption is a language -
built from words unsaid.
Questions do not exist -
so we never ask.
Truth in hints and hunches --
The great exposition of nonsense.

1:21am

A poem past one a.m. can only mean one thing:
That I am prioritizing a thought --
just one.
It is like counting sheep,
without the herd;
like a skip on a record,
on the very first note;
like a series of binary code --
without any zeros,
just one, one, one...
You know why,
because you've been there before
and the reasons don't matter;
they're all scattered anyway.
Just a thought - just the one,
and I'm done for.

12:44am

Bare branches shed no shade
They cast thin shadows --
creep upon the face.
A tree in winter,
blanketed in snow,
beauty in silence
but the season's cold.

Prayer for change.
Patience for Spring.
Waiting for leaves.
Beneath fuller boughs,
and the swaying green,
the music plays--
a forgotten melody.
The ear hears what the eyes already see.

2:04am

Thought-struck with the idea --
A trickle of spark and wires
coils itself down my spine
and jolts me upright;
like an antenna
ready to transmit
the message.

10:16am

Cyncism is a sickness
inflicting its worse symptoms
on those who were once innocents
but unlearned what the true nature of beauty is --
because they got hurt,
somewhere at sometime
by someone who mattered
who fell short of being better than they ought...
The story's the same old
- the person is not.

Then the sickness remains
and they cough and wheeze
all their negativity
on anything that could be
and infect anyone still healthy.
They cannot heal with self-medication
only reconciliation of mind and heart
For where cynicism breeds, beauty must part

So yes, I might be too eager to forgive --
I might be drinking this world in
with eyes too wide in a rose-coloured haze
And I may be simple and naive
and a target for pain,
but I'll pray to be wiser with the hope I can be kinder,
without reservation,without walls, without shields
without worrying who will be the next
to step on my heels.

11:05am - One of those dead mornings

Distractions
Rest less
Consume little -
Little light
Living-ish
Love less
Such twisted treatment
of one never out of sight,
with open or closed eyes.

1:00am

I won't sleep much tonight -- too much tea
And too much am I filled with thoughts
which occupy that part of my brain that refuses to shut off.

I won't wake up late -- not enough day
to allow myself to sleep in till noon
and miss the early hours in which the day blooms.

Without much sleep and with eyes scarcely open
Umbrella in hand, braving the city rain
Though my bed is warm and inviting --
Outside adventure waits.

2:03pm

Like a downward tug at the point -
slips out of my ribcage
and plunks into my stomach -
- floats haphazardly -
bobbing from side to side
Capsize and still I.

11:02am

On this cloudy day
I think to myself,
that stranger things have happened.
Stranger things.
But still, what a surprise to find,
that while we are not invincible,
nor indestructable,
nor proofed for pain -
we are the ever delicate survivors. 
We live on, breathe on
move on --
then grow.

11:00am

Bitterness is dust
Blow it all away
No time to scrub to no end
A heart thought sickly stained

Dear darling you have everything
Just look above the waves
- you own the wide and open sky;
the sun is yours to tame.

3:03pm

A lighter in one hand
One hand on the rail
Knuckles pale, buckling knees
Shaky resolve, tentative spirit
Should I? Should I?
Let it all burn -
or sprint across again;
chase every panel
or drop the flames
And let it end.

10:34pm

You spin your promises like webs in the wind;
Hanging in every unlit corner,
Dangling from concealed ends,
A slivered whisper of the yet to come.

Though I am startled by the invisible thread
Welcome is the slick of silk upon my skin.
To be caught at every stop --
Tangled in your words evermore.

9:21am

Empty bucket -
Silver paint bits flake off the rim
The handle rusts,
It sits in in dust
Waiting to be filled.

It is old -
it has no holes
though the walls wear thin.
Dull and still -
The breathless object
Keeps air within its well.

12:14pm

I write more poetry
I keep it to myself
Privacy -
Words no one ought to see.

2:04pm

Don't let the pause go on
for too long -
Turning blue
under the name of patience
Peel back the hues,
just before the grey --
A shiver of a colour,
I once knew before
returns to my cheeks
and I feel the warmth.

9:04pm

Dear Friend -

      I begged an audience with Inspiration,
but he was far too busy.
I called upon Creativity,
but she had others to meet.
So I am left with a heart and a brain,
completely of my own,
hoping sincerity and authenticity shall suffice
in place of brilliance and eloquence.
      There is so much that cannot be known.
There is plenty that cannot be seen,
like looking through a telescope,
we see a little --
enough to know there is a world of stars.
But outside the rims of the convex,
lies a universe that is ever expanding.
      Life is not one constellation,
but a sea of lights and galaxies,
and exploding suns  --
It is beyond our sense of space
and awareness of time.
And though you may be just one,
You are one connected to infinity.
     And God is there as the great conductor;
of details, of connections, of destiny,
Aligning the desires of our hearts
with his inevitable plans.

     What I mean to say, dear friend,
is that you can do anything --
We are on the same side of wonder and possibility.
As limited as our view may be,
Boundless are we.

10:52pm

It is common
-- like a penny,
thousands in a jar.
but stars,
are they not common, too?
Billions from afar.

I fall right in the middle;
between a penny and star -
I'll hold the copper in my hand,
and gaze the other with my heart.

4:26pm

I feel like I'm armed with box cutter --
Risking the jagged edges
that comes with tearing through,
all to release
something new,
something unexpected,
something understated.
Something I just didn't know.
I didn't know that it was just me,
in a cocoon.
I thought it was night,
So I slept in claustrophobic complacency.
I just didn't know.
I thought freedom was as far as I could touch
but the walls were too close
so I froze in place,
discontent in my little space.
Till one day, I hadn't enough room
for all the change I couldn't see.
And when there's no door for you to leave,
you create an exit --
and enter into a world
you still know nothing about,
but it's wonderful.

3:27am

I think I'm at the end
comma
but then
comma
there just another part --
and it runs on
for long
comma
and no one would know
how long I can go
right here in my head
dreams and wishes
never to end
and
comma

12:41pm

Uncertainty is exciting
- and terrifying.
It is a shot adrenaline
and the lingering thought
that haunts a cozy pillow.

The want to confirm,
The need to understand
stabs my brain like a dull pen.

I'll use my ears to hear
but if the sound is static
could I lean into it?

And there it is,
like a ghost appearing,
but only in corners of my mind.

One bold look and I've lost it.

Tell me something true,
or rather --

Tell me something.

8:11am

In the early hours we speak;
Your words break the chains
of the previous day.

The language of rest
resides and resonates
within this chary heart.

I am transmuted,
from state to strength
in a time so unassuming.

While upon the mattress,
a quiescent air descends
From spackle to carpet.

And intellect cannot reason
with a sagacious spirit
and an impalpable embrace.

8:07am

You are not a shadow,
You are the shade.

In the midst of a storm,
You are neither thunder,
nor lightning,
but the sweeping rain.

You are not lost at sea,
You are the halcyon waters.

And when you lay your head to sleep,
You are not the nightmares you dream.
You are the prayers that you pray
In the light of morning's wake.

7:03pm

For a lover of words
I find they fall short
and fail to fall out,
out from my mouth
simply to say
those words to convey
warmth and welcome,
instead, they shy away
stay in my brain --
those tricky words
always falling short
never tumbling out
fencing me in
kept with my doubts.

8:52pm

Five chambers;
An abnormal state
Four normal;
One out of place.

Three odd beats
Never quite the same
No rhythm
Of steady pace

Two reports
Which differ greatly
To explain
The rarity

The first blames
Awful luck and birth
A write off
Not to be turned

The second -
Well, does not define
but accepts
imperfect design.

7:25pm

Magic, like moving corridors,
The sliding panes uncover
Heated hues of hills and creeks
Pink pervades the waters.

This is the place --
The very spot,
To be kissed by a warm moon
And it lights me up.

Glow now as an ember,
Tiny flickers of brilliance;
Catch the colours
Chase the chill away.

8:00pm

Over the horizon
Over the city
Over the white scuffle
of run over clouds
I am there
Watching and waiting
Wishing and praying
Wistfully wondering
where my wandering might take me.

And would the sky be any wider,
any more golden
or exponentially wonderful --
with the addition of you.

We're paving paths in the wind
whether you know
and whenever I go.

11:17pm

The thing about perspective is
you only have your own -
it can shift from here to there
but you're still seeing
from one side

The thing about life is
all we need is a little perspective
but we have to make do
with our spot in the room.

12:05am

I don't remember the starting line
or when the pistol shot
I was already in the race
before I learned to walk

I don't know how to keep the time
-- the seconds, minutes, hours
Every day a different pace
The miles pile on with power

I cannot see far up the road
but I know - I'm running out of pavement
So while my heart's against the wind
I'll not think once of caving

8:51pm

I scribbled a few thoughts on paper
I threw it away
Scraps of letters in a wastebasket
line the walls of plastic

And would it not be fantastic
if this meant nothing more
than a moment of frustration
but it is a sorry metaphor

2:47pm

When I hear it,
it sounds different
but I've heard it
I know,
a million times before

Is new just old
with different ears
and different eyes

Or a heart changed.

4:58pm

I am feeling very inbetween
In the middle of a bridge,
or with toes on the border,
or in the centre of a foggy field

The haze is startling,
and revealing.

And I see the outline of something
that looks like a start.

12:37am

Mad - am I madder still?
to breathe against the winter's chill
to hope to death that breath is light
against the lightless, rayless night

For even in the dark opaque
Without sight - I am awake
I am like an aphotic flower,
blooming in the blackest hour.

3:07pm

We stand in the stairwell
alone, with the soundproofed walls
We are honest strangers
who meet far too often, for far too long
We let go, we separate
carrying secrets worth pennies and gold
We don't exist
-- not in the sunlight
and never in the rain.

12:35am

When is the best time to be someone you're not --
Living just to breathe and exhale,
Trudging on day by day
Being minimal in every which way?

What season is it are we permitted to hide --
Shy away, numb ourselves,
or malinger through any and all hardships
and be not life, but life-like?

Time does not tick away
Like checkmarks on a list,
but ticks to uncover a  rhythm,
a pattern, a path, a power. 

The seconds of summer are gold
The hours of winter are jewels
And so we are rich till the last breath
and Death? They say it stops for no one
but I am one who'll not live on any less.

11:56pm

I won't go there.
I won't meet half-way.
But I'd take a step,
and another,
I wouldn't stay
in that one place.
I'd walk,
at a slow pace
and you'd run
till we meet
somewhere on this tangled map.

4:05am

A sleepless night
-- it's been awhile
Shut eyes, open mind
worries of a trivial kind.

No matter the matter
the tracks lead no where
And I've no idea
between the back-tracked
and the new path.

6:41pm

We aren't philosophers
But we try, don't we?
A little, a bit, a lot
From there onwards
A chat, a sit, a talk
From there onwards
A pause -