A few reminders on rejection

I thought about stopping to look
Or just stop looking
And just take what is not mine
In small doses
Children playing around my bare feet
Cities removed from the yellow pages
And women with no eyes and mangled hands
And I'll just breathe
Breathe the breath away from tradition
And find my own grace
One separate from what I should feel
What I was the led to explore.
Jump ship just got shipwrecked
Because I bear witness with nothing less then a list and a mission. The misses all the misses is a few strides from failure an object abort a mirror distraught when lie an image distorts while my knuckles shy from fresh hands. My knuckles to swollen my limbs disjoint. My phantom shadow follows, my recent air stays shallow as I swallow for warmth.
I'm thinking about giving up the catch and release
I've been called a catch but the only thing I catch is sweat.
I don't know how to do it
Even when I've done it before
The cycles has spun and where it once begun
Now I enter explosive
I'm holding onto drifting wholehearted happy accidents
A middle ground between regrets and the distance to Sussex.
Where's my screen, my affirmation, when will it come easy?
It's far from the beginning not near a stone nowhere knows where is the ring
I'm bringing up all these facts and some soft flesh
A mesmerizing timing a few lonely days I'm laid flat on a plank of siding
Call me the tide say I'm probably hiding
I'm probably trying I'm probably siding on the easiest bet because I'm busy
No disrespect.

A query

It stems from a soft, untouched petal

A flake of tulip drifted from its home

Now sits on asphalt bleeding blue on a man made tomb

The road placed to close to the natural garden

Weeds cleared through selection

Little veins lost waiting to be nestled

I'm here

Sipping on pink sugar water

Drowning out the shrieks of children

Made up or real, it's difficult to tell

Dirty faces sealed

Empty snacks strewn through the yard

It's the ashes that get to us

The embers that seem to never fade

The smoke that follows us around

Until we go back out

Until we go back in

The moments of silence have to be made

A concept bearing fruit

Lost when discovered

When the rest see through the bedding

That got pulled off by a dog resting on the floor

Revenge

A short few days drugged out by the sun

Drowned out at the end by looming threats of rain

The warnings started near departure.

A baseball game rained out after leaving work.

A nap that lasted too long.

Driving through darkness on a route I've been before.

Clouds would come and go like the neighborhood children.

The sun would imprint it's reign through all objects

Leaving cooked rare skin on shoulders and cheek bones

Fog would arrive in the morning

Maybe some mist between takes

But the rain system slowed its crawl

And drew out it's welcome.

Until it came after dinner, a long break from the action

Leaving me with a small window to look from

Hardly see the lake through the droplets

Holding hard on the porches window.

An Easy Day

It's easier to say that the day was easy

It calmed the brook and let the silt settle

It made the wind blow with ease under the clouds kettle

The day pushed through

Pulled us along with it

We were always easily persuaded

It was out of the days that went quick

The days that were long gone

Helping a long lost friend open his locked car

Or the night spent driving to our new oasis

The work filled mornings, the starry eyed afternoons

Some days even dragged

But days like today were just easy.

Simply said because it wasn't much more then that

And giving it sophistication would be overcomplicating the formula

The equation was never written

But the blueprints stayed with me while I rise and wake

Now it is late,  off on off

The distractions don't erase the motivation

The timelessness only strangles the day if life was on some timetable

Like I had every day mapped out. 

The unexpected are just as clever as the routine.

Curiosity and continuity and commotion

A friend telling you a story

A friend telling you the same story

You hearing the story again

Through a lens

The lens shined down a message from the clouds from the sun

The message was easy to comprehend.

It laid on the grass until someone came and swept it away

It was graffiti nonetheless

It held weight on the blades

Like they were burnt from previous seasons

It was invasive to our quality of life

The cloud was just the middleman

The cloud was only used as a filter

To filter out the electricity of these once forgotten words

In a line to read patiently

Coming from the Sun

Our sun that provides us with the light we need to navigate

The light we hold is only held because the light was there

We can see what we are holding

We can't hold onto the light, it keeps shining away from our fingers

Grasping at atoms

Slipping down like Slalom

I wish I could say it because it could only be seen

The Sun cast a few rays

The brave rays brought down it's objective

As fast as it could

The cloud was it's lens made the message as easy to see

For us nearsighted folk

It was bold

It only laid for a mere passing moment

Because the cloud passed

The blue sky had enough of that.

reflective lakes - yellow

The Voice

It falls when it runs off. 
Concentrate on the taste,
the spit that flies from the lungs,
the sting of the heat like when two words meet. 

I have visited before. 
Been a few cycles like I saw the stars last. 
The night held a perforate glow. 
Luminosity of the tulips came back invalid. 
It really stayed down there for a long time. 
What felt like it. 

The other day I thought I had time for this. 
This and that but it juggled out of my pockets,
the bill not yet matched. 
The cash in hand. 
The transaction was like a ballet. 
The dialogue fumbled into different sleeves. 
Where they inside out? 

A few things clicked. 
Each letter was a symbol and my brain started to hurt. 
Physical when you break it down in molecules really starts to fall apart when you really look at it.  Bit by bit,
eyes reading I's,
it's all just a cloud of smoke,
it's really just heat exhausted,
air already used. 
Breathe on it and wipe the smudges to reveal more. 
The screen holds 1 truth.

The Threshold

I kind of want to keep making appearances on this subject.

Things can be a bit hard.  Things that take a long time to complete.  It's something you chip away at taking what was and what you have albeit it reference more ideas influence and source material.  It's this stream this passing back and force this energy.  Energy is usually free time and when you are feeling guilty that you aren't allocating the right man hours.  The hours you wish you had back the pieces that didn't lead to anything or the impulses that fell flat or just didn't fit.  Didn't fit into an ear drum or onto my retinas.  All these files folding around you all the places they can o and become in here or over there but all to a strobe all in a bottomless boat.  Realize that this might be a pierce in the heart of culture.  Or the written rules in front of us.  The monotony of it all.  Can this break something or even cause a crack.  Where to put this in a place that doesn't support it.  Where's my award for humility?  When does it become apparent that I'm just trying and I'll always just try.  Nothing is true in a living so built up on ladders and long lines.  Where we wait is just a pile a traffic jam a denial even when the style of tile matches 100 miles an hour.  Leave it sit or hope he changes it into a real thing.  It's like I'm the spirit and he's the conjurer.  I make the yarn but he makes the clothes.