I look at your eyes / and forget they have color.
We Have No Choice But To Comply.
To me it was Their transaction: / A payment / Or collection / Now, literally Everything is given away.
And while I knew well it would not be a dream / I expected a little less grinding of gears.
Let my palate adjust / To the heat / And the sweet,
I write alone, in verse or prose / Enjoy it, if you predispose.
No matter the Framing, the Mat, or the Pane / The Whole of The Story it shall not contain.
Loneliness is not / Truancy of Them; / ‘Tis the Roar of Self
Moist is for cake. Only. Ever.
I’ve checked the flights from here to there, / And there to here, of course (of course!) / I’m sighing, and my Soul’s laid bare.
Just / Air
All I ever do is run. So how do I step in… Step into the sun?
Some bits and bytes of sound and light combine
July doesn’t change a thing.
What will the church do with us?
The FIve-Fold Path
This was the first in a very irregular stream of video entries. I’m slowly uploading them to my site so … More
risk brokenness to gain everything.
And lo, the clock chimes, dinner’s done
I’m finding Self as self Itself gets lost