Value

 Unseen understanding

Tangible, emotional currency

The value of which is traded 

Without trace,

Makes this form of living,

Sublime.

With Love.

 I sit here in Texas

Aware of the time

As the world swarms slowly

In hastened momentum.

California again soon,

To make decisions that lead,

Elsewhere.

This is a good life, 

A blessed life,

A gifted existence.

To be free to choose

To choose wisely,

Based on the wisdom

Of all my experience.

Intermediate life,

You are a good life.

Thankful for the powers that Be,

And the God that has been

Walking beside me

Listening to me,

And guiding my light.

Filled to the brim

With Love.

High Wattage

 Inevitably, the time comes

To involuntarily drag me through the urge.

The pristine flavor of untouchable, 

Devours me.

Practiced

 How long have I walked with words that have ailed me?

I think to utter and prop up my bones in doing so,

But the dig into my very being, incurs remittance.

What words can I find now, to crack these practiced codes

Entering into a better bargain to sate the days as they pass?

The voice is crowded with frustration that seethes and moans of monotony

I must better serve my posterior for when it surges forward

The need to have acted on foresight will then be put to the test

And questioned in detail for what may have gone overlooked.

I want to then counter with 'no stone unturned' and revel in preparedness.

I am hunting for worth and Steppenwolf, to tally the marks I have carved

To inspect and deliver the prognosis for which I must deter.

Lengthier meaning, longer streams of thought,

May they begin to coach stealthier practices and evacuate the tight, terse twine

That I have been weaving along my interior 

To brace the emotional hernias that puncture through from practiced restraint.

Necessary, practiced restraint. 

I am here.

 Another volume, delivered

The involvement and the emotional investment,

They have grown.

Turning into the idea that a way to ease sorrow

Can be felt; the news shared, deserves emphatic empathy

Delivered with concern, true care.

I am here, dear friend, listening with respect

And I am mindful of your experiences,

The fragility of life, parading.

Full Tilt

 115 notes,

On how to tell the story of pain.

A year to gore the innards with abrupt malice

Funneled through a disease without cure.

2016, an impalement.

Breaking in the upright position

I festooned my misery into a manageable shape

That took me to shreds with impunity. 

What does it mean to be broken?

I will never know.

The grist is worth the ingestion of any hurdle

To earn the worth to carry on.

Words in their arrangement serve to protect nothing

Confusion cures ignorance, and that will do

Procurement, a word I adore

As it seeks to attach skill to understanding

Giving way to a comprehension, sublime.

Some stories are not worth understanding,

Certain levels of agony belong caged.

Secrecy is a precursor to composure,

When light requires forgiveness in its lifting.

I know a man that gets this game.

The level of what is at stake, 

The wisdom to keep his mouth shut

And the potency of his commitment to restraint.

Such animal mastery is also, bent for secrecy and containment.

It is often the understanding alone that can portion the scales 

To the equilibrium needed,

To lead a strong, stout life, worthy of respecting.

Enough hounds prowl without regard 

...for more than their 

Own hunger.

Pangs of which, once punctured

Care nothing for the kill.

And who cares to hear these musings,

Of lives well lived, and shoulders that never caved

These are words that form little meaning 

To none other than Self, who seldom pauses to wonder how 

That same self will evaluate and preside

Over the decades spent in well controlled demeanor.

I am leaning forward more and fascinating myself

With potentials that eek of action, and grease eager to spread

Would there come a time where the Now will crave more sprint?

No.

The time is Now. The Will is Present,

And the wisdom to know the difference is

Parading like Maximus in full tilt.

In This Now

Chisel off the hesitation,

Or the story remains the same.

That languid layer of testifying tongue

Cornering the verbose into paralysis,

Gaining no ground.

The New Order is Intentional

In ways, everlasting.

Powered by would-be oppression 

And the nerve to demand:

Better.

Been walking awhile on hesitant turf

Offensively protecting my interests.

Independence is a living act

To be claimed daily with effective patterns

Grindstone tending.

The insanity of repetition 

Keeps the average - sated.

I am hunting for something more, than

Satisfaction. I will pursue

Better leverage.