Derivative

Surge

Up.

Inwards. 

Existing to squeeze

All sour from sockets.

Pause, placed nowhere. 

The timing is

Exclusive. 

Belong. 

Salutation, unacknowledged. 

Inner vibrating, augmenting

Bare.

This diagnosis should make sense

To none, 

Save the soul that prepares 

The Self

For intermediate conceptions 

Devoid of validation. 

Uncover

Less. 

Stripping seams 

Slitting beams 

Undermining crude effigies

Built once, when the clamoring

Was bold. 

The echo faintly dreams 

For memory to mentor excuses 

Boldness transformed, 

Into injections long deployed

To care nothing

For 'their' cause. 

Clandestine meetings occurred

While weary shoulders slept,

Tensely

To guard and stand watch

Over shattering bits of injured

Attachment. 

The Might and the Moral

Choked Sensitivity's gust

Leading the pilot to steer

More boldly, 

To studier worlds. 

Devoid of floral essence

In tangible form. 

Vulnerable platitudes, 

Demise.

...effort/trouble/trade/tirade/gamble...

 "...I wanted you to know my head."

Words, saturated. Stippling the layers

Of every fucking all that I know.

No hyphens, no conjugation,

Direct, clear, sung with indifference.

Into the right, into the left, pouring in slowly, thickly, 

With unintentional purpose.

That metaphorical grain of sand, invisibly planted

Melted on its own, to procure a meaning, pure

To know, to nod to no one, to know the dots connect

To substantiate nothing but itself, in the long hall of one mind

My own.

As sinus cavities blare

With barometric oomph,

I fucking bang my feelings,

Against the rockiest miseries.

I do this,

Languish in the moodiest halls

They are familiar to me,

And in that familiarity, I find a kinship 

To the grief.

How daring it is to acknowledge difficulties

To assign their due, their reasoning, their

Incontrovertible definitions.

To own and take into account, all I expect of who I am

And all I am willing to do, to rise to challenges,

No matter their level of uncontrollably fucked variables.

Duty. Responsibility. Loyalty. Commitment.

Willingness. Accountability.

Restraint.

The order in which these attributes derive their purpose.

To who does this contemplation belong?

Self, is a beast, with candor, unmatched.

The highest form of monogamy.

The ultimate sacrifice to obtain solace fed from completion

Of all I have in mind,

And all I swap in exchange for that freedom.

Worth the effort/trouble/trade/tirade/gamble?

Fuck yes.

Today.

Ask me again in a week,

When the night gets long and the shadows pour 

Onto me, into me, open wounds, intimate witnesses

That ooze with internal cream

And wail over the wonder

Of Genital Solitude.

Dutch Goat

Neck noodling

Hip spooling 

Wrapped, in whiskers 

In whiny moan, in

Earthy, deep tone. 

Moistened smile

Pondering the Zoom

And

The invasion of

Your space. 

Distracted. 

Bubble, magnetized

Dreamt in daylight

And though, 

Processes hurl, 

I focus there

An inch below your nose

Where sound eschews 

Action. 

And

Tongues, might

Taste. 

Wrestler

 That Bovine Husk

Was made for Dusk, 

And all the trappings 

...of a pre-dawn 

Fuck. 

We Speak

Dry morning ignites the queue

Of all I ask of me. 

Equitable maneuvering

Administered devoutly

To erect a day worthy of rest. 

The two handed swivel

Begets a function best kept

To lure the needs of yesterday

Into remission. 

Come,

Let's do this. 

Josephine

Slowed by the heat, the distance

The circumstance. 

The wonder of strength

Love, loyalty, life in service

Care to caretakers

Whose moonlighting days

Are far long gone. 

Mother, may I treat you in trust, in love

In dignity?

This daughter serves in stoicism

Direct and persevering. 

Committed to the length of her road. 

Built tough, determined, 

Unfailing. 

Time, trading these travelers 

Weary yet unwavering

To sleep in the softness of their duty, performed. 

Among the Nameless

Unwritten candor

Candor, too kind. 

Truth, belligerent

Unfeeling, maligned. 

Bubble of air surrounding

Ears, nose, and throat. 

Specifications seek wildness

To unfold the disfigured conformist.

Dry land, dusted warm stone

Reverence here, exists

In all the unseen notions

Of nature's unlimited offering. 

On couplings of sky and insect

Never known before to the sigh of man. 

There is eloquence

In the water, made to pool from rain

The trust in thunderstorms 

That lightning may follow to feed the eyes

Craving electric delight. 

To roam on plains untouched

Home to weed and wildflower alike

Naked and unknowing

Vulnerable to all, yet oblivious to the wake. 

Dawn demands daylight

To waltz the wind without windowpane

To nurture light through dappled patterns

As unnamed artists reap unlimited gain

Basking on plains that exist without time

Or the effort of elbow that seek any gain. 

The language here, desist of script

Leaves nothing behind;

No ink exists to define these points

Lit by heavens, above earthly delight

To be born is the benefit of existence

Yet to swim in tides of greed and gain

Limit all points of engagement. 

Luster lives on the leaves, as they whisper

Amongst themselves, and the flowers

Love penetrates all thickness

And manner of skin, when backed by volume

Simmering sweetly to yield deep flavor

To emanate warmth, and deep meaning. 

To guide sun into pores, filling their pots

Thickly, fully, sweetly. 

This is the hand I have chosen

To boldly romance the fiber of my being. 

I have widened understanding 

In ways, unmatched. 

To have opened all ports to freedom

And welcomed growth without expectation. 

Partnered to Self.

Satori.

Enfold You

Onto this place

Where the fitting feels - intended

These grooves between us

Clicked smoothly, 

Coherently, 

In unspoken

Readiness...

Owned. 

Hugged. 

Held. 

Cared for. 

Hinting at nothing

Short of, 

"I know"

Do You

Read of what is felt?

Has the radar of sensibilities 

Brought these words to your door?

In the knowing, often, I am found. 

Then too, surmise that that very transference

May never be known. 

But to two, 

The you and this I. 

With Me

Sit with me, that I may know the warmth

In your care. 

Nearby, within audible reach

To profoundly absorb

The meaning in candor. 

The relevance of juxtaposition

More needed now, 

Than ever. 

Crushed to know

The ability to close gaps

Ever remains, widening

These are scorching times of uncertainty

They must be sorted as is

In time, with practice, 

In solitude. 

I am hard to crack to my own self

A sewer of skins, stubborn, removed. 

Pushed out to farthest pastures 

The staff of my own leading

Beating me now. 

Truth to be told, in this place

The hardness of who I am, 

Begs for softening. 

For sweetening, 

For sensitivity

To be held. 

Collected

Found along the way 

Trinkets of sentimentality

Sweetly placed nearby. 

Soft and sewn from years ago

Surrounded by ocean treasure, and

Wooden whispers. 

There is the flow of organza

Easily read in the knots and the burl.

Placeholders brought 

To continue dialogue found along pathways

That declare creativity be pursued 

As often as humanly possible. 

Equation

What is 

The algorithm of my moodswing?

Can there be such things

As to protect and serve

What's best for my chemical content?

Autonomy befits the body

In ways, everlasting.

To control breathing

To the extent that it's involuntary 

Is nothing to scrutinize. 

However, 

What if time were indeed consciously spent 

On the mapping of mood

And manipulation of such?

How long before obsessive deliberations 

Induce a collective 'backing off'

To numb oneself of the 'responsibility'?

These tangents

They both bore and entice

And seemingly only during periods of time

Where further examination is

Scarce. 

Morning

Dawn is kind, gentle-hued

No motives but to welcome day

Gentility proffered to those

Who wake in silent gratitude

For what life gives without asking. 

Scent

On the trail to 'something'

From hence and whence it comes

To sniff the longevity of these potentials

Without snuffing their need to be

Sated. 

And what of satisfied and all its fillings

Would that we could,  

Cavort with the dreaming...

Without maligning the structure of

Security. 

Civility to Self, to needs, wants, wishes

Maslow's hierarchy, tumbling. 

Where did he factor in the undermining

Of individualistic trade?

That strong be the need to provide warmth

At the cost of the swapping of 'needs'?

I need more, Maslow, more 

Than surface-present particulars 

And the conditional understanding 

Appealing most to many. 

The roar of my agitation, 

Befits the bellows of Outer Space. 

Fog

Wake in silence

Wake in dubious headspace

Wake in the chill, 

Of one. 

Minute quotients of existence

Excavate without prompt

The ignored rebellion lives, though 

Mute it remains. 

Give power to life

To time spent in service, in duty

In refuge. 

In love. 

Solitude, the pariah to the self

As known preferences clamor, consistently 

Reasoning stands its ground, corrupted

Only slightly, by strong, "what if's"

As I have stated plainly to this self, 

'Fuck' those doldrums, enough, to veto

The chatter of the body's lament...

In this now, this is my chosen 'order'.

And yes, I know, all too well, this method is Painstakingly chosen, 

It does little to stem the flow of continued

Abrupt- disgust. 

Detectable Idle Chatter

Let us no longer pretend

What we know to be true

What we feel without fail

What we hunt for in our stillness

In our silence, 

In our truth. 

I dream of you when, 

I let go. 

I explore your presence, daily. 

You land everywhere, 

Confident, strong, tutorial. 

Enough with ambivalent decay

The cortex welcomes you, encourages, you

Needs - You. 

Live here with me, as you have been

Come less, come more, just Come.

The dubious explorations persist

The boom of your delivery, Timeless

I will welcome you Always

Amidst idle chatter, titles and all constraints. 

You, plus Me, equals - Best. 

Profound. 

What to Do

Humiliation creeps, up, into secret creatures

Shaming them where they hide. 

Given away by undefined behaviors, 

Tucked in tight, betrayed. 

Ownership remains sightless 

Admittedly stunned in horror

To be delicately called out this way

Regardless of how soft, the whisper. 

Aged, another lifetime

In this postabsorption state.

How to rectify this fucking humiliating place 

That I have designed, some 8 years deep. 

Single, I have remained, 

Murmuring little in defense of my reasoning

And now therapy sought to alleviate

Rears deep, ugly heads snarling at discovery. 

Weeping serves to turn the heat into steam

The steam, again, giving weight to reality

That in this trade of time swapped for focus

I emanate loss through my silent skin. 

Expression of senses, plays out scientifically

Without hesitation. Hypothesis confirmed. 

Hope does little to stem deep-rooted need

To touch and be touched, remains the answer. 

Monotony

And what of outlook, when

Known contributions donate wholly

To the tone of what comes next?

Coagulating noise becomes the burden

Of the hour, when

Repeatedly I acknowledge

The better process to practice. 

And yet here I am

Centerstage in the swarm of monotonous

Uselessness. 

Books strewn about, waiting 

For inky stroking...

To light the fire of incandescence 

And burn away old and flaky skins

That coat the conscience 

In misery. 

To The Moment

Indigenous to the moment

Distractions eradicate

Lost to the quotient of 'unfinished'.

Words, they evaporate 

Leaving me to wonder

How my foolishness made way

For potency to grow bored, 

And disappear. 

These pockets of time, of feeling

Leave, in their lost spaces

Holes filled with doubt. 

Love, is desirous, for more, than the return

Of itself. 

It carves a dungeon

To house the skin-crawling singularity

Of limbs wrapped to themselves. 

It will placate cave-dwelling 

As the ideal home for cerebral sludge

A worthy backdrop for the heart and the head

To bang out their reasoning

Their deviations, 

And their docile resistance 

To work in unison, 

Achieving-

Stoic trophies

That serve noble purpose 

But do little

To soften

Souls, 

As years  speed and slide

Slowly by. 

No Record

Time, exploded

Propulsion of days

Zipped, then zoom. 

A labyrinth of hours

Behind me now

Undocumented, 

Like weather in unknown worlds. 

Afternoon

Typing, thinking, maneuvering hours

A desk built for process. 

Mood, undecided. 

Litigate

Mitigate

Agitation

To Heart

Value 

Found in what is

Felt. 

A moment

Spent in comfort

Softness, 

Security. 

Happiness, 

Felt. 

Safety, provided. 

Reclining 

Into contentedness

Invaluable. 

Resilience deems fit

Introversion, and

How that came

To be. 

Deeming fit also, 

The reasons for why

It will continue. 

Roadmap to serenity

Keeps skin aglow, and

Hearts high on sweetness. 

Coasting in

Appreciation

Respect, and

Gratitude. 

Life, precious

Beyond words. 

Public

Detailed movement that I am wishing

To not be a part of. 

Public idiosyncrasies that are inherently

None of my business, 

Kept that way. On purpose. 

Antisocial circle, of one. 

A Sunday spent too close to

The nearby noise - of others. 

People. 

Around, everywhere, disinterest, 

Grown. 

Had I ever suspected that invisibility might

Undermine the allure

Of everything 'known'.

I am older. 

Intolerant perhaps

Of including others

On this horizon I've been living with

Muted in diligence. 

Solitude is my catalyst

Of discovery befitting of time

Time to donate to unearthing more reams 

Of who I am, and what I have

Become, and

Have been

Becoming. 

Expired

Coagulated potential, pooling

Lumps of unused ardor 

Transformed into mania, 

Then plastic, then agitation. 

Pause.

Repeat. 

Linear movement

Backflips into yesterday

Leaning into lucid dreams

Of chivalrous thickness. 

My lower throat, 

Swallowing. 

Man

Of each other we are perfect 

The grooves fit and fill each quarry

And in the snugness of our fitting

We descend upon elation. 

A tone perfected in the solitude we own

Unshared, uncharted, undulating

Respected mores even amongst

Societal rot.

Then 3am came, and with it- You

Your thickness, your customs, your chivalry

Your projected gentlemanly considerations...

This is not the time, nor the place

For anything but-

The animal in you. 

Let the dream carve us open,

To feast without expectation

Amidst the landscape of our bodies. 

Judged by the potency

Of appetite. 

12 Minutes

To carve a niche 

Into morning

Lead to night. 

Folded nuance

Whispers reminders from nearby

To firm up endings

And send them on their way. 

To Taos and the snow

To travel up that winding road

Alongside rapids that whirl, 

Wrangling in their foam and froth

Melted venues, dispersed. 

Stop

Reaching for distraction

To invite loss

Spilling moments sideways

Into the abyss

Of unmarked time. 

This desire

Necessitating the urge

To pluck and procure

One morsel to quantify

Time. 

Collecting only courtesy

Storing unshaven smiles

Insisting on, 'imagined' connections

Knowing full well 

'It's there'.

Keeping warm on ideas

Promising 'soon' is nearby

Giving wind to sails of false bravado

While slinking into oodles of, 

'Business' as usual. 

The double hug was real

Thrice it reached back in

A year and a few ago, widening out 

Rounding the quotient of infinity

Between us. 

Nailed into permanent memory

You. 

Brand

Dissection of cells reveal naught 

The intention instigates purely, 

Feeling. 

Master scheme designations

Do not fail. 

Indigenous components wake

Once inhalation renounces 

Everything

Else. 

There exists an aroma 

That words wish they were capable

Of articulating,  to prove

This brand of willingness 

Whose inception, devoid of the mind

Encourages wholly

The fuck. 

Prey,

Unknown to itself

Surrenders all physical senses

To pay homage

To the infinite glory of

Animal attraction. 

I remember being young

With honest wishes to obey confusing laws

The drums then were loud

Obnoxious. 

Demanding. 

Those grey areas

Were. Not. Grey. At all. 

But rather succulent shades of rouge 

To bruise. 

And there are bruises worth enduring 

To serve to remind

Of sleepless nights

Spent fucking 

The love of a lifetime. 

Rig

The juiciest chunk

In limbo

In your throat 

Sucked. 

Out, through

Your mouth

Teeth, lips

You. 

Sounded out,

Through

You.

Hard Hat

Passed you, quickly

Past glee and into

Remorse.

Unshaven smile

In- to- me

Stuck- to- me

Tizzy. 

Warm Grit

Low pulse heating

Cooing dark boxes, bleating

Dreams of queued repairs

Acquiring the assistance needed

Debunking the REM

Two moons, reflected

Ceiling tapped, a stranger- collected

Hyphenated hesitancy

These characters deride incision,

To "fuck no" the noun,  presented. 

The 'he' he once was

Presenting resolute function

Tools strapped, utility performed

Stature booming beside forgivable tone

But this dream is,  just that. 

I smell a silent rant

Initiating discovery and getting in like smoke

Yet what I want least 

Is fire in the house we've built

Too long gone to welcome the inhale. 

Pass

There are days

When the nettles pass

The sensitive swelling reveals

New layers, 

Of sweet square inch

Desirous of daylight 

To quiet the inaudible mewling. 

In years we deal

Trading completion of tasks

For satisfactory grinding

Laying to rest - life. 

The grey pages come and go 

The pink too.

The solitude serves purpose

As the imagination bridges the gap

Between duty and demand. 

Buzz

In a whirl

The seconds continue

Without regard

For anything. 

Time, effusive

Monotonous

Bewildering. 

Thickening

Rivulets of empty memory

Form. 

The use in certain longing promotes 

Decay. 

Visual prompts toy with restraint-

Incessantly

And the wind begins to howl, 

Once more. 

Bend

Simplicity

Strained. 

A simple bending

Restrained. 

These signs of life 

Buckling.

Dubious dreaming

Of savory times

An old friend 

Caring, kind. 

House

In this house of mettle and bone

We find ourselves doused

In curiosity. 

The felt and found aspects

Circling in unison

Tidbits transpire in the inhaled minutiae 

Of what is and what might be. 

Night

Dew dipped

Broken era

And yet, 

Hasten to correct

Perception. 

Imperceptible crossing

Detection 

Uprising

Dilatant mutterings increase

The tenant below

Wailing. 

Trigonometry

Study of planes 

Intersecting life

Inhabited organs

Disclosure of inherited tendencies 

Existing. 

Sky

Bloom the darkness

Into sea without limit

Expand finite life

Up and out, omniscience foreseen

To travel up, to travel out 

Branding slippery sand

Astute.

Home

Racing towards the sun

Glowing horizons

Gifted distance

High places hugging hills

Where no names

Knew wintry utterances

Time begone

The breathe of centuries. 

Things

Inexplicable things

Defy attempts

It is enough to remain, 

Unexamined. 

Miles

Love is not fictitious

It has power, weight, ferocity

Modes, unlimited.

It's the murderous scream of uncertainty

The jugular twitch that anxiety brings

Texas

Stoic, intentional

Unrepentant in its scale 

The Lone Star grieves for nothing

Tenured to the beauty

Of massive skies and space. 

Green expanse, unlimited. 

The bang for the buck hits Low

Longhorns and grapefruit

Distinct and respected. 

The oil below, the gold of the valley. 

 

There is a muggy awareness, 

An almost sticky undertone

Of brown skin divvying the dues 

And condescension lurking. 

Deep pockets buying liberty. 

Slow Rush

Into the hours

Of days spent in devotion

Life of the living, strained 

A starboard sailor 

Adrift on the sea of oath 

For better or worse

He's sold. 

Loyalty

Commitment

The truest trust, exists

The lifelong breed is rarity

Beyond all treasure of comprehension. 

Religion aside

A union divine. 

Defined

Begin again

Clicking

Misshapen hourglass

Defined. 

Inglorious methodology 

Manipulation

Navigating the high sea

Dementia. 

Scurrilous rambling

Ignored

Slow-moving scuffle

Dread. 

She slumbers 

Locked

Cut away unknowingly

Devoid. 

Love crowding 

Gathered

Aiding in empathy 

Determined.

Life beguiled 

Circumstantial

Contextual data 

Defined. 

Spin

Axis unending

Pivot table of trauma

Fluctuating daily. 

Somewhere, a ledger sits

Waiting on a timeline

For an ending.