fellow others – 12/3/12

12/3/12 1:18pm – 12/5/12 5:46pm

fellow others

before the day gets too far ahead of
itself & i can no longer gladly finish my
sentences i’d like to take this moment
to enjoy my company.

a certain selective hearing is what
has gone missing from my afternoons
amongst fellow others.
until found the morning becomes a bag
for reaching into rather than filling.

purely present – 12/3/12

12/3/12 5:01am – 12/3/12 5:09am

purely present

in the times i should be thinking the
most about what to say i am making
my thoughts purely present.

at the moment the thought is
conceived.
so too is the position of my lips to push
out the sound.

always i look forward to the
side-tracking of myself, by myself, for
myself in my less put together  moments.

the last time (?) – 12/2/12

12/2/12 2:02pm – 4/16/13 12:04pm

the last time (?)

this story isn’t going to get itself straight
and until it is everything will have to wait

gluing my lids shut is as far as i’ll plan
and not watch as i become a religious man

i’m playing dead for my life
until the sun creeps in
i’m playing dumb if the light
doesn’t come before then

i am only sorry that i almost got caught
and it scares me to think what’ll happen if not

the last time was going to be the last time
and so on and so forth could all stop on a dime

not completely wiped – 12/1/12

12/1/12 3:26pm – 12/9/12 2:40pm

not completely wiped

everyday is spent wishing not to be
scheduled by work.
to be able to come and go as i please
wherever each day would place me.
it’s only fitting the day places me
where my words start & leave you.

without scheduling who knows what
time would mean to me.
it may be that the working day helps
in grasping.
some part of me believes it keeps me
planted in interaction.

even now i find myself hiding in the
bathroom of my work not pissing,
but compelled to document observations of
the environent and others.
sitting on a toilet seat not completely
wiped & better for it.

the arrival of balance – 12/1/12

12/1/12 12:29pm – 12/3/12 2:05am

the arrival of balance

i only don’t wish to speak to you
because i’d rather listen to you talk.
any word i contribute is one less word
of yours i’ve allowed myself.
thank you for your availability.
i’d rather you not call my name and
have to answer you with the whisper of
retreating steps.

you’ve delivered me to the realization
that all my words should be put to use
upon arrival.
whether or not you meant to.
your casual conversations can be looked
at in two ways.
i choose to view them in the most
sincere light possible
the latter not worth mentioning i’m so
convinced of the first.

watch as they write you off with your age.
which is hardly worth mentioning either.
they would just as soon write you off
if you struck up these same
conversations in your unchiselled youth
or in the ripenening that can be seen
following us all.

they leave only a cracked window for
you and i.
little do they know; for themselves too.
when may I ask is their birthday?
& on what day will the same hands
that cracked that window be heard
tapping in hopes of rentry?

a window can never be a door.
therefore they should not treat it like so.
those who crawl to pass the time until
the arrival of balance are not invited.
those who crawl because they’ve walked
for too long receive no invitation.
but never has a man who has entered
by window done so by any different means.