As the clouds begin to blanket the day and scatter during my dreams,
my days repeat themselves, with tiny variations,
so as to create a pattern, for the all-encompassing, general memory,
feeding my advantage as a slow methodic.
This is who you are and all of my fighting confusion
never stood a second in the presence of definite answers,
the years gain dogged uncertainty, flopping between an instance,
as my reference earns momentum, and a long, windy corridor.
Holding pace with my bus,
I began to relive the sensation,
passenger passing by so many cars,
until I had reached complete spatial displacement.
I transited into my commuter seat,
leaving my driver shell behind,
dead at the shuddering stoplight,
the reality of it was not illusive,
just irrelevant to my senses.
Antagonistic beetle, shelled by whispers,
sees himself in a world collapsing,
even in that tiny body, perspective is king,
no matter what the nearby giants are doing,
sleeping or screaming, disaster is a must.
It is envy that makes us hold our breath and fix our eyes,
if all we hold is desire, we carry an empty bag,
how often do I merely stumble over my dreams
on my way to wash up,
perhaps it's easier to forget as we grow up,
not because there is more to think about,
but we would rather think less about so many things.
Silly shivers run up my neck when the right note is played,
and when you speak my name I smell a new book and crack the binding,
all in anticipation of a worthy tale to follow,
I hope it lasts for my whole life.
Open the door and the breeze stirs your hair,
take a few steps forward and the air whistles in your ears,
I walk through a changeable day with clouds chasing neighbors,
squinting wherever I look as the sun pierces its cover,
and then the sky is blue, and the light is contrasted by a new found chill.
O how I long for atmospheric visions,
wandering with a staff to uphold me as I sway side to side,
drinking the navy blue and enjoying the fragrance of the healthy green,
fighting for focus and chewing my thoughts with savor and leisurely deliberation,
captain sail on, and on, and on.
If I reach the old age,
I will set aside hours to tinker,
tapping my cane on the staircase,
I'd rather test the sound of the supports,
then look to my own.
Reaching that state where I dream when I wake,
and stir my sheets when I sleep,
I will smile faintly and read from a distance,
squinting when thinking takes time,
if it doesn't ring in my mind, it must not be true.
I describe the twists and flashes of color,
sweat and aspirations that peek at me
from your eyes and the wave of hair,
but I have no idea what makes you beat
and talk in the manner you do:
at your core, I do not understand you.
And this goes on and on for all whom I've met,
but one, darling you who makes sense
of so many senseless things,
I gravitate to you in these,
as my heart understands, though my mind does not:
I feel and know home, yet I cannot encompass it with definition.
I dreamt of a satisfying breakfast,
prepared with my own hands,
it was a wonderful land,
but difficult to breath in.
I daydreamed of a colorful lunch,
brimming with the smiles of friends,
surrounded by familiar furniture,
but I was distracted by something it reminded me of.
I told a story at a gathering of the perfect dinner,
filled with a gourmet buffet,
gold and silver glinting in the studio lighting,
but it was ill-preserved, and the air was stale.
Black gradually dominates my view,
Smeared across the space above,
And I fall, will and the rest of me,
Arrested, caught in a dream,
With so many happenings repeated,
I could remember this in my sleep,
But as I awake, I cannot recall
The gravity ruling relative to each weight,
So everything floats with a ghostly, clouded reason,
Robbing the natural colors from all I say,
Replacing them with odd florescents,
I will just return to sleep on it,
Perhaps the next time I rise I will retain the laws,
These stories are meant to be shared, right?
"Take my hand" is a kind gesture,
but repeated enough the muscles atrophy,
disabled by the dulled motion,
like a mother shielding her children
from the slightest of ills,
only to watch them sink fast once she lets go.
This behavior only reinforces itself,
perpetuated by habit, punctuated by fear of exposure,
punctured by natural courses, perpetually denied in my eyes,
blind help I offer freely, knee-jerk hand-outstretched,
I want, no I need, to fill your eyes with hope and your mouth with joy.
