i'm sure this has been asked before, but

can you ever turn the volume up loud enough on the stereo,
ever scream to the point where your lungs are comfortably burning,
every jump and dance and smile and talk at the highest rate of speed
to stomp, deafen, exhaust, blind the thoughts out of your mind?

and which music, exactly, would this sort of instance require?
can you ever drown out the thoughts of an idle mind?

how does anyone really relax?
when do you reach that real moment of self assured security in life,
when is it ever enough?

Sundays

"Ágætis Byrjun" - Sigur Ros

And when my mind is spinning, when thoughts are trailing reason feebly attempting to catch a breath, to breathe, my mind, my heart, my voice it falls to you. Lord.
What am I, alone. Who am I, with all my self, my trails, I fail you. again.
Reverence. Silence. Stillness. I would love to write a story telling enough to inspire...someone other than myself but then I fear it would be with the hopes of satisfaction, to the glory of them, and then I question, myself. How can I? Question that which is so. Is Everything.
As contrary to popular belief as this might be, I see you
in his eyes. In sincerity of a love, never needing, ever seeking, in prayer
in his and mine, family.
In a friend, Faith, of mine, depends, so near to my own, on, Dear Lord how could we, that which, they not See, is all over around IN.
The trees. the air rushing by as I run down, up, around the hills of a place I've been several times before. And it never ceases to amaze, me.
If I sang to you? If I danced all night, day, from the moment I rose til' you put me to sleep--from exhaustion, exultation, Dear Lord to scream your Name in declaration from, to every single inch of this world. This world you created.
Comprehension is really so incomprehensible I can do nothing more, I can do all the more to sing, a song, with words written, on knees bent, face down,
To praise you, Lord, my Father you are.
The reality of this, scares the cynic in me
Lord, I am a child at your feet.

crosswords

there is something to be said,
for the way that the mind tosses about these thoughts
and how they seem to mix with the sounds, the words, the music that escapes
how we've each chosen to believe, been chosen to receive
receive love?
give love?
grace delicately placed, in a saucer on a rainy day
a sip of warmth from a coffee cup, tinged with the hope of indulgence
as it slides down the throat, once clinched with indecision, discerned
straining hearts of those in an attempt to impress
upon
the general public, people pleasers pleasure never felt so
good as a sip of coffee on a cold spring day.
when you expect nothing more than what it is you receive.
expect the unexpected. which is?
could you ride the wave of love if it took you, swept you
suddenly up one day. could you trust the clear, screaming, sudsy water
by faith alone we stand.

Faith alone, as if that were a bad thing.
Faith
alone we are, truly, without-- It.
The belief in something more than the water that runs between
fingers flexing because we tell them so, We
hold the power? To blot out the sun with a mere breath in its direction.
Silly to believe you are It. You, individual, are all in all...
I am nothing without something more, something original
something unseen, because that which is seen is never
enough. Never suffice
to pray, to cry on knees
that bleed, twisted, turned in opposite directions;
to find Faith
to patch the bloody wound and Know;
and Live free of Knowledge consumed, against our better judgementless selves
by Faith we survive
by Faith unseen we thrive
by Faith we are forgiven, for that which I've never, forever felt guilt
For the guiltless devolve to spiritless then heartless eternal faithlessness.

I pray, all the days, for the Faith to walk on water without ever opening my eyes.

I'm only, human.

I write in scattered bits
and pieces fall between the work I'm leaving
undone on the pages before and after the words
often appearing out of nowhere, and nothing
when love is filling
feeling frustrated
those determined to see for what I once was is no longer
apparently I should sit in
sit still, should I
then smile as you slip your hand into mine
close my mind. You've found me and I'm there in her words
before we'd ever met.
Stay awake all night to pick apart into this
and the differences in a rush, in a now and a then
my God this love -- you receive unto me -- I could be silently
sweetly spinning in your world of gold
fiery microscopic
magnificent birthing twine from the folds of my skin
where my belly button hides at times when I forget
naked -- pressed between a mattress and a sheet
a floor and a ceiling, door and a window
trains outside -- people living a few feet below
they are high, they are filling
both smoke tumbling into something
a sky and some prayers --
words bleeding out through my ears and toes and sometimes fingertips
blessed with coagulation, skin and mouth press it together
again a voice, dripping, filled you overflow from
him, his eyes open mine
just like the first time. I can't help but say it.
I would stay awake til' morning
if I wasn't so scared of going insane.

"Tragedy" - Brandi Carlile

just something

there are lots of things going on inside of me right now. lots. and i keep more to myself then i have in years. i keep to myself and up with him and trying to figure it all out. all of it, slowly.
i would like to write fiction. i would like to get a good night's sleep, in a warm bed, in a cold room with the air conditioner running full blast (or maybe just the windows open with a cold cold air rushing in, yeah that would be much better). i would like to fall asleep with a smile. i would like to run again, for real. i would like to feel like an important part of the greater whole, not that i don't, really, already feel like that but maybe something more along the lines of a team all working towards one goal, together. something i know i can do, something tangible. i would love to be overwhelmed on a regular basis.
all of these keep me quiet. all of these keep me thinking. all of these...
things are changing. shifting. people are shifting. and nothing is the same as it was 5 months ago. nothing is familiar to what it was 2 years ago. one year ago.
things, people, and ways are cleaving apart. i cannot explain to you who i am or who i want to be come but if you love me you will be patient. love is understanding and i hope to understand.

industrial size fan on our ceiling

life's incrementing artistry - lives intertwined
filled with the hope of a better way - an unpained breath
and living, in a world where few really seek happiness,
God it's hard --but your life is your own
and ever increasing with those you'd never otherwise've known
before, that moment
that exact moment that fell, falling, fallen
into place with your mistakes--the ones that made you rip away at
any one who wasn't everyone else.
you were alone
in a room, compartmented for something like a better comprehension
and a moment you'd attempted that suddenly became months, after it'd been days
slipping into something less is so much easier than expectation
than hoping you could be something slightly out of the ordinary.
(than hoping for, lack of a better word, love)
and when your guts stuck between the clenching knuckles of someone whose first pet you'd never name, whose sister you'd never meet
a hand you'd never hold--filling yourself with the joys of the world
joy?
and when we paused tears fell.
we fell to our knees never caring that the bones crept through our skin
the blood trickling steadily down the slopes of our curving legs and arms
we were fascinated by something like an escape from him, or her, or it
manifested realities--YOU CHOOSE THEM, something we seem to forget
from the lower cased existence they were all so pleased with--we screamed
into my pillow late at night, i bite til' i bled and i bet you didn't know you were
are--my inflammatory system--inflamed, scabbing, pulsing, cleaving edema
a friendly bruise, a forgotten x amount of time before you
an entire span of time unscathed, had i known you existed i would've better prepared
myself for your coming, but then falling might've never felt so sweet
complete, worthy of the scars, shaking hands with those who'd forgot
thankful we left ourselves unsettled, depressed
suffocating until the day
never did i ever know what it felt like to want to live
creating smothering satisfaction

we are anything but ordinary
however, when our bodies aline all the world leaps up
crashes down,
falls away like when a very large waves first hits the city
wipes away instantly, everything that once seemed to matter
empty clear land, wet from the demolition
you are my possibility; my clear, clean reason
you're my oceanic hurricane, stirring, spitting--everything
we find ourselves in the eye
cross legged, together
silently staring
into you and me and it's as simple
as complex as you and i sitting
still, staring
and i don't have to explain because you already know what i mean
you already knew, this is what i would say

"Interstate Love Song" - Stone Temple Pilots

retreat

retreat

there are certain things and places; from birth I've been told to believe in
and we've all been convinced of something, of sadness
inevitability. the laze at the end of a hard earned day,
the gaze into nothing but, except, the wires whose tips tap haphazardly into one another
spark, flip, contort and awkwardly twist -- a bright, sudden light from the graying edges
a life suddenly lit where before there was none.
not even the moistened tip of a tongue could procure.
these things and moments and people we've become so accustomed to, so unenthused
that when we find something worth living for we're scared?
scared to breath faster
scared to kiss open mouthed, open eyed
ease out of apathy into a new way of thinking
of feeling again, to realize you were changed by the mismatched wires in the past
the connect, conduct, build
current -- it's electric
alive. living.
day by days that feel like months
that feel like a tinge of what we might should've learned from the get go
a nod to what we've done, a forward footed dash into what we'll be.