the silence between the seconds

blue[z}

I’d much rather listen to the silence between confessions
Than listen to admissions
laced in half-truths.
Pay attention to subtle hues of dried stains and
Blue.

Delta/Jazz/
And all the standards
Sound better than mediocre attempts at Upper East Side
Living.

These scales,
Drenched in aerated wine, milk and handcrafted Bullshit,
Sit upon pillars carved with an ivory hand.

I’d rather listen to sullen shades of midnight Blue
Than the same sorry Southern California proximities of
Luxury
(oceanic,
non specific pieces of “prolific Art”). F.you.

Give me
Simple lines of
Authenticity.

Exchange
Jaded hemlines and
Jeweled upbringings;

I’m no privileged
Living being

Just another person who believes that
Seeing
Is enough to tell the tale,
As along as you can see
The Details
Within every shade of

Daily
Sky
Blue.

We all sit underneath it.

two parts

 

 

[ she ]            Remembers syllables once flow’d from

somewhere inner…

less inner thigh

more like…Deeper

meaning.

 

Scratchy throat can’t confess,

Without coughing conundrums. It’s easy

To blame sand storms,

But lesson unlearned’s

The one

That caught

a tongue.

 

Fingers rest from weaving

softly waving

Rhythmic blankets of

Words.

 

 

 

[ She ] Had to catch her breath for a minute.

            ‘twas stolen by a dashing prince,

            piercing eyes and a steady hand.

            She had to catch her breath because he stole it;

            He gave her his heart in its stead.

            The End..

daily dose

“That’s too bad,” she thinks az the rudeness walks away.

 

She returned the stare with

Heavy lids,

Long was the day.

 

With twisted cheeks she smiles on cue

To thank you

And bid you Good Day.

 

Be glad she didn’t pour your

Sour attitude

Into your

Personalized Cup

Of

Coffee.

peace [ quiet ]

there’s a soft distortion in hr disconnection.

Something that makes hr distance

Sweet.

 

She tastes like the Eden that can never be reached,

 

 

Except when

 

I

 

Touch

 

Hr.

 

 

Melted kisses on skin,

Sweating forgivable sin

Because

This onslaught of passion

Is too much

To pass.

 

Enjoy.

 

 

Legs wrapped around like roots

Searching for answers,

Water to rest the mind in,

I fill hr with

 

Silence.

 

 

And this is the best kind of

Love

That can ever be given.

rush hour

I’m a congested freeway,

Driving through,

Chugging through the fog.

Always inching forward,

Groping in the right direction.

 

I found it on a map

Long ago,

Stuck a startstruck pushpin in it.

That one spot,

Where love is lush

And days are sweetened with smiles.

 

But for now,

I’m stuck in a time trial.

Pressed for good fortue,

Quite possibly luck.

Moving tumultuously forward.

 

My only option

Is to find reasons

Within my seclusion

To smile

To myself.

a Lone

I knew we’d take our separate paths,

never quite the same

but alwayz outlining each other’z livez.

Sometimez just out of reach,

But alwayz within an ear’z fear-filled rumour.

 

I heard your name just outside of my voice,

Like someone let it slip from their lips.

 

Behold – you pop into my comfortably framed life.

Just when I was hoping to release a stale state of mind,

            I gotta reach back a couple steps to retrieve it…

Yeah, that part tucked behind the cobwebs,

I didn’t want to admit it,

But                        I am alywyz

            Listening

When you

Inhale the toxins the rest of the world exerts.

And holding my breath until it hurts,

Waiting for you to say it’s okay,

Okay for me to feel the simple

Reminders

Of you.

I listen.

 

I don’t wanna share those thoughts with you anymore,

I’ve moved past that.

But I am grown enough to admit that

Because we shared so much of ourselvez there’s a connection

Worth resurrecting.

 

So let me have my breaths of brine,

They are mine alone.

lack of patience

you can attribute this to my lack of patience,

but I know it’s much more than that…

 

I will not wait in vain,

Because I know that Utopia exists for me.

And if it exists for me alone,

Than I’m okay with that.

Because

Eden’s fruit is sweet,

And I have cultivated that soil from my very first breath.

Long before

We stood in the garden,

Perfection was made for me –

To grasp,

To call mine.

And I will wait a lifetime

In solitude

If that means that I can smile

To myself.

I don’t need a muse to be

Happy;

I’m self-sufficient

And contagious.

 

And if you’re lucky enough

To catch on to my disease,

You will see

Every beauty

This life

Has to offer.

 

And if you refuse it,

Because you’d rather munch

On the fruit of a superficial tree

            Without roots

            Without soil,

            Without riches to be dug

You will be

The one

Missing.

 

I have no fear

Of crossing the street in the darkest of nights.

I will fight to make it to the other side

Of this

Nightmarish dream.

 

I invite you to join me.

 

So RSVP

By pledging your

Sincerity,

And chase

Happiness

To the edges of

Time.

 

Place your palm in mine,

And seek the simplicities

            (not the answers)

that this crooked walk of life guides.

Confide in the smallest;

You’ll find happiness in Mother’s honest ambitions.

 

Keep wishing for brighter days,

Because tomorrow brings promise

Of being two breaths closer to your dreams.