I think this is why the lightening came.

I went swimming
In a sea of something
Electric.
I touched the shore
And lightening
Turned my sandy thoughts
Into a glass sculpture.
Too giant to fit in my home,
I had to dissect it
Thought by thought
And create
Something
A bit more manageable.
I pulled out
Snow globes
I shook these snow globes
And
Slowly
My mind
Began
To
Winter wonderland.

I found myself
Frolicking
In a bank of
perfectly
untouched snow.
I found myself
enjoying
Erasing
Simple.
Perfection.

I think this is why the lightening came.

Why didn't they steal the whale?

I bought a beach ball
Technically
I used a coupon
And received it
For my loyalty
To a store,
I also bought an inflatable whale.
I used them
In a pool
Perched outside my apartment
The pool area looks like
A scene from Blow.
I didn't care about anything
Except making a whirl pool.
Which is what inspired me
To purchase
Inflatable
Things.
I sat on this inflatable whale
Just like the happy lady on the box.
Only
I looked like
A creep.
I returned to my apartment
And left the whale
And the beach ball
Outside my door.
I slept.
After waking
Disgusting habits take place
I opened my door
And lit a cigarette
I saw the whale
Plastic nose,
Ringing my doorbell.
He probably wanted to return to
The cocaine inspired
Pool.
I then noticed
My beach ball
Was bobbing in the pool.
I went to retrieve it
Perhaps scold it
For leaving.
Until these chipmunk children
Swarmed it.

I kept thinking to myself

Why didn't you steal the whale?

Margarita
I will drink you
Until my brain
Is frozen.

It's too late to taste this chicken

I thought of lovely things,I thought of spring,
I thought in neon chalk
it projected silly silhouettes 
all over the sidewalks

I walked.

I kept a few things in mind
as I briskly walked in lines
reciting the poems
I currently
wished to be the anthem
of my time.

I shuffled along
watching my feet
disappear in illustrated waves
I was etching in sea foam blue.

I'm not sure how I ended up here
but this is not how it ends
a town beckoning me
with jolly bells
and brick walls
years of the same people
being
and
seeing
the same people
have started breaking these bricks down.
& the bricks have turned to dust
and it is starting to rain.
The dust of the brick
is now blood in the streets.
I step in puddles
with open toed shoes
With
a populated
ghost town
lights and
pizza places
with bricks
and bricks
and bricks
I don't mind having cold feet.
I shouldn't be here.
I don't blame my feet.
I don't blame the bricks.
they have-
just like-
I have-
seen this same town
in every light.

But this night,
was a picture
painted by me.
Inspired by an overwhelming desire
to see if lights could still glow
the farther I disappeared down the rabbit hole.
 I saw strangers
and they gave me more hope
than dangers.
they fed me stories
like before-dinner treats
they had no reason to lie
and no reason to tell the truth.

I snuck their wisdom
hid it
underneath my pillow case
and cried for what I thought I had known.
I played the worlds smallest violin
for myself
then remembered when 
I lit my own violin on fire.

I remember hanging that violin up
and calling it art.

I remember finding out
that was rather subjective.

And the word I was searching for
was in fact, "Angst"

Back then,

I lit up revelations.
I hid in abandoned cars.
I slept where I landed.
I slept where my love landed.
I kept all my things in two bags.
I relied on
anyone
who would listen.
I kept my visions in a vile
and I wore that vile around my neck.
I pledged allegiance to the night.
 &
Euphoria took place
everywhere.
& 
bricks
were still sturdy.

As I thought of lovely things.
I thought of spring,
I thought in neon chalk
I painted all over the sidewalks
& walked.
I kept a few things in mind
as I walked that line
reciting the poems
I currently
wished to be the anthem
of my time.

written in the moss

There are so many people
I miss.

Every once in a while

It grows on me

Like moss.

covering up
the North
parts of me.

Often

The weather

Takes me for a drive,
and
leaves me
somewhere I've been

I remember signs
I remember the trees
I remember holding my breath.
in the middle
of the 
seas I could not explore
I thought of 
differences
I could not admire.
Terrain
which swallowed me whole.

sinkholes
with songs
Whales
with words.

I needed peace of mind

so I closed my eyes.
and found silence.

And sometimes
silence brings the sun

with hats, dresses and bare feet.

It made me miss the people
who stood
bare foot
with me.

when it was October
I wanted a pumpkin patch
To be growing in my house.
I made soup
So my house would smell
Like my memory
Would like home to smell.
I lit vanilla candles
Because a super moon
was dawning out my window
Just beneath the clouds
Like a peep show
With the lights out
I never even saw the moon
But it made me howl.
Made me write
Without sense
Without
Rhythm .
Just like
My first dance.
Confusing
Anxiety
Which turned my palms
into faucets.
leaking,
slippery,
unable
to communicate
My mind
auto corrected itself
and turned
Electric-


this

caught my soul on fire.

everyone thought I was dancing.

I was.
thinking about my blood
thinking about trains,
thinking about

feet with wings.

the way clouds look
when an airplane wing
cuts
like
a fork
through whipped
cream.

And how silent
this rain falls
still.

oh this weather
it is beautiful weather
to remember.

The sea and the swamp

I stood in front of a swamp cooler today
I closed my eyes
And for a moment
I felt like I was on the beach.

I opened my eyes slowly
Hoping
My hopes shores
Might morph into reality.

I was quickly
Disappointed
When I realized
My hopes
are not transformers

...

And that swamp cooler?
Was not a sea breeze.

With the owls

I figure.
If one person
Can climb a mountain
With a rope
Braided entirely in hope.
I should be able
To walk
With words made of stone
They do not intend
To break your bones.
They intend to be
Soft pillows
Beneath a summer breeze
On a hot night
When the sheets
Become your skin.

You are not dreaming.

I figure
If this balcony which holds me up
Breaks
Due to the weight
Which resides in my temple
(Of doom)
I will fall into
Never land
And never land
Ever again.
I will live as an owl.

And in the mean time-
If one person
Can take flight
With wings
Sewn.

I will keep believing in anything.

Orange thoughts

Whenever your power goes out
And you're standing in the dark
Looking for light
Remember-
You are what you eat.
you've devoured so much sunshine
You could illuminate a black hole.
You are so
Unexplored
the parts of the attic
Covered in cobwebs
Which are
Thicker than your desire
To know
What is held in those unmarked boxes.
So with the sun you swallowed
You catch the cobwebs on fire
Along with all your desires
And tell the world
To fuck off.
You find paintings to hide in
Just after you cover your tracks.
No longer willing to be hunted
You tell the ground to stop betraying your feet
You shout to the clouds
You shout to the place
All your ideas wandered off to
And died.
You sing songs to resurrect
The same feelings
(You already forgot)
You made yourself forget.
You appear in the sky
With sparkles and jewels
Decapouged all against your
Sun dried skin
You
Are
Made
Up
Of
Water
But
The well
Which resides
Within you
Has been stretched thin.
You play checkers
With good intentions
And misunderstandings
You rally up hot air balloons
And tie your cursed hands to them
You pretend
The water is cold
But it's boiling hot
You breathe fire
You bathe in lava

You tackled a man
Dressed as a bear
For telling you
Only you could prevent Forrest fires.

This is the future

To me, feeling safe
Is a lot like
Pink bottle nose dolphins.
Very rare.
And though my hopes
Swim on the backs
Of  mighty creatures
With desirable features
I will find a place for them
Once the ride is over.
So I took a pickle jar
And poured out the vinegar.
Seemed fitting.
I never did enjoy
Putting my thoughts in a jar
But this time, they glow.
Like fireflies, they illuminate
The Great Lake
In my mind.
And in my spare time I take notes.
I write them anywhere I can
Walls
Hands
Napkins
&
Coupons I forgot to use-
Become
Ancient time capsules
For a time
I can barely remember.
I mark it for the future.
So I can remember
I always had one.

sounds like

There is so much sound

Floating around.

I can feel it between these apartment walls,

Yes, there certainly are

           stories

Untold & unfolding.

My neighbors have their own unique sound 

And its a mixture between 

Elevator music

And how I imagine

A flamingo 

Would 

Compose

Music 

For       

Porn.

Needless to say...

It gets me in weird moods.

I suppose it inspires me

 to go down elevators.

      Other times

I want to stand in a pond

With one leg, while yelling

       obscenities at people

    All while wearing

Obnoxious neon pink.
(of course)

Other days,

The secrets that are kept

In the parking lot 

Fills up my Big-Gulp mind

with

Dub step and 

Candy rappers.

My mind asks

if it can vomit

and regress

back to a time

when robot sex

didn't rule the radio.

Still,

I suppose it's a sound,

Still, it's not the sound for me.
No,
I like my sounds to be jazzy
horn sections
and slow dancing
you know.

I heard the sound of love

When an old man

    kissed his

  Old lady

On the mouth.

I found out
what soul was

when I thought I lost
 (my own). 

It's because of this sound.

That beat,
 beat,
bwam!

That thump

This heart.

It  beats because of the sound.
Sure,

Sometimes it skips

When it gets scared...

Sometimes it races

When it finds something

Worth running for....

Sometimes it sinks

Because it's turned to stone....
but

Sometimes it's dancing

Because I am...

All of these noises

all of this sound

bring me

bright lights

And place them in my eyes.

These sounds,

will inherit my mind when I'm gone.
And THAT

makes me feel like a robot

Who has just discovered

My programming

Has failed

And now,
 consequently

Am

For the first time

experiencing 

Hunger.

there are ghosts in this apartment
and at night
we chill.

how to make sound (silently)

I loved you
because you have thorns
protecting
your flowers.
You have a mind
that is without a doubt
powered by the heart.
I believed you
when you told me
everything about everything
and how things worked
and how to kiss
without making a sound
&
how to make a sound
silently.
I believe we misbehaved with our hands a lot.
I believe with you
it wasn't misbehaving.
I believe it was
sanity.
I believe it was
peace.
when we believed
we were untouchable.
you'd grow around my leg
and show me
how nature should adore me.
I wore
my hair down.
&&&&
When I'd bite my lip
it was because
I couldn't smile
without drooling.
because I was in love
because I was probably
forgetting
every
single
crow
I had ever seen.

And when I'd collide
with the earth
the sun
grew large
   &&&
melted me.


Before I told you
every single stupid thought
I'd ever had.
Or
Why I believed you looked so
charming

in the color you were wearing.

Boxes of words

I'm out of all the things
that keep me current

I'm out of all the things
that make me sleep.

So I'm awake.

I could get drunk,
(I should get drunk)
but I won't.

I won't because I don't have anyone to puke on.

I'll just use the floor.
I'll just love on this song.
I'll just use this hat.
I'll just laugh at the cat.
I'll just cook for no one.
I'll just dance around.
I'll just puke

(um)

a little more.

Goodbye deposit.
Goodbye life I've had.
goodbye 2 years.

Goodbye neighbors singing Sting karaoke.

I want life.

I want life so much
I plant it,
to watch it grow.

My creative mind swoons
when it watches a garden produce.

I find peace
in a part of my heart
that is usually out of breath.

I haven't felt that in a while.

I haven't felt anything

ever since I stayed up til 5 a.m
wandering in a park
with a camera and a broken heart
I took pictures
because I did not believe I was alive.

No matter how many shadows
my mind
found
you.

No matter how many times
I
tried
to
lose
you.


I
found
you.


I ran.

Back to the shadows
I slept for hours
I saw you in my dream.
   
you and I danced.

Until morning.
I awoke.

Which I then spent mourning
the loss of you.

While I put the rest of me in boxes
you can have these words.

blahblahblah

I'm supposed to take my time

I'm supposed to find love

I'm supposed to hurry up

I'm supposed to slow down

I'm supposed to grow up

I'm supposed to stay young

I'm supposed to be myself

I'm supposed to follow my dreams.

I'm supposed to color in the lines.

I'm supposed to know how to color outside the lines,

then call it art.

I'm supposed to be free.

I'm supposed to know my worth.

I'm supposed to appreciate.

I'm supposed to educate.

I'm supposed to breathe.

I'm supposed to bathe.

I'm supposed to forget.

I'm supposed to remember.

I'm supposed to let go.

I'm supposed to be grateful.

I'm supposed to be angry.

I'm supposed to be sober.

I'm supposed to be drunk.

I'm supposed to be writing.

I'm supposed to be in bed.

Instead I wrote a list.

This is how you solve writers block (Letters to myself pt I)

I lit some incense
because I'm sensitive to some senses.
I'm probably making that up.
Probably to explain something that cannot be explained.
Not all answers can be found,
Not all answers show up
dressed in black
looking fabulous
holding a note
that says
"you're right."

In fact,

Answers show up
drunk.
or
angry.
or
....

you get it.


and if you don't,
you're probably lying
and if you aren't,
congratulations.


You're still lying.

I hate it when people say that.

"you're lying."
I'm not unique in this thought,
this is not colossal news.
I think everyone hates that.
just like cockroaches
probably don't enjoy
being the shit end of a joint
and also a cock.
I imagine cockroaches
probably try to dress in tuxedos
smoke Cuban cigars
and cry
when the butterflies fly by.
and if anyone ever called me a liar
or a cockroach
I would say


actually.
        you.
              are.


WHAT THE FUCK AM I WRITING ABOUT

good question.
                       I need an answer.


         
         :)

I wish smiley faces
were answers
in the real world.

here.
here are some answers.
here are some reasons.
here.

something fancy
something spectacular
like the time I survived that one...thousand times.
Like that one time
I woke up
during summer
    blinked for a second
and ended up here.

go.

I should have told you about these hands

I have love birds
for hands,
they are mated
for life.
They stay beautiful
for life,
they bring one
another life,
they clasp tightly
together at night.
They know
left from right,
wrong
from
right
I keep these hands
just under my hips,
which are under my lips
and my chest.
They send echoey signals
to the ocean,
and hope that a lighthouse shines back.

(I keep marking this spot with x's
and hope that the treasure comes back.)

I leave
feathers from my wings
in the back cars
of better things.
I send
salty swear words
into the slightest of glass bottles.
And float them out
with weathered hopes.
I hope
you can sound it all out.
I hope
you never found out,
that I
remembered you in a dream
like a
rotten apple I had once picked from a tree.
I saw
a worm eating its fill
and when it was done
I think
the apple had been killed.

but unlike the death of a strawberry
this apple
cannot bleed.
And Still,
a worm is a worm
and it needs to feed.
absolutely.
like the love I feel-
Call me factual
because this is real.
and if you've been half
and if you've been whole
you know what it means
to have a heavy soul
but not just heavy
I'm talking
.
.
.
.
....sinking

Started with all that 3 a.m thinking
when dreams are told like jokes,
and I'm figuring out
how much candle is left
until my house smells real.
And every song that comes on is an absolute reminder
that everything that's ever been disastrous
is lurking inside us.

but that's so many stories.
and this is just one,
I'll tell you I'm broken
I'll tell you I'm done

Broke.
as in broken.
Just like the boat
we sat in
when we were out smoking.
just like the moat
we swam across
when you told me
all was lost...


I should have told you about these hands.

instructions on flight

I think all that matters
is that I have seen the sun.
But when I start thinking like that
I often run
run from those ideas
which melt me.
Remember me?
I am the hot temepered
chili pepper
soaked in vanilla
and grated in your granola.
I am the monster
tap dancing
upstairs
above your apartment
until 3 am.
I think all that matters
is that I am laughing.
I think that all that matters is regularly
crapping.
napping
snapping
rapping
bapping
lapping
flapping

YES,
keep flapping.
because that
is
how
YOU
fly.

The one about the sky falling

I found a fraud 

sitting 

with his lips

edged

to the bone of his knee.

he said 

he enjoyed 

the fragrant smell 

of misunderstandings.

Suddenly

Colliding

with the pale instance

of love

resurrecting moon beams  

in the mornings

(which danced, and streaked across his lips)

the sky fell. 

I tie my curtains

I grew up
hating the idea
of growing up.
So I turned my feet into dandelions
and planted them at the base
of a grandmother oak
behind
my grandmothers home.
Beneath the soil
were the bones
of the birds
I had accidentally set free.
I experienced
worlds
of experience.
before experience was necessarily even necessary.
That child mind,
that short-lived
half second

when I was a wild flower -
I was a flower
that was late to tea
with someone
who could turn me rose.

I became behaved.

I was behaved.

   be-halfed.

  and by the way
 on behalf of my other life
    that other half-
       
I remember I was born to matter.

All of this occurred to me
before I became a full grown weed
while you recited casual poems
before you arrived with casual knives.
Yes, you came to admire the flower
I bore
before my wishes could scatter
You remembered I was just matter.
you held your breath
for as long as you could
Until you turned blue,
Until you became the kid in you
Until you became the cloud in you.
You
disappeared in the skyline.
and I remembered
we were born to scatter.

And here I am,
tying my curtains
opening a window
    wishing
a giant bird
would take me
and use me to build a nest.
A nice Dandelion nest.

The first

you spun yourself into a flowery nest
made with the sun
you gathered from the freckles on my chest.