acraein

Sharp pencil
blocking out body shape.
Angular, ragged little tinsel.
Sudden move, pin finds groove,
transform, rewind tape.

A moment 
a hair away from magical.
Expertise, seen it, sonnet, sewn it.
From awe to rage, the takeaway
biographical.

I love when 
eviceration brings
selflessness and me to knees and then,
open eyes, world is wide
again. So I sing.

Once on a mountainside
I took a dip in glacier sighs 
Toes were pointing towards the sky
I lost my feeling, found my high

Again I was escaping 
From a dull and bitter sting
A grind, a ride, an apron string
I wanted time worth worshipping 

A long walk along the lake
We got soaked our bellies ached
The winter rain washed my dust away
I still think about that day

Is that why I'm never one
To jump and cheer at vacation 
I want something laborious
Where we become much more than us

Is that why
I'll never feel bad when I'm alone?
And you'll never catch me around the phone?
And at night
Is when I feel I feel the most
Is it alright
If I shut my eyes and my eyelids glow?

Do you mind?

We all need some good things
to calm a calamity.
A mug of the nice tea
with extra honey,

the smooth of an old stone,
a long talk on the phone
with one who shared a wishbone 
to make you feel less alone.

And if you listen closely 
you can hear your mother as she's 
humming in the pantry.
Footsteps like a heartbeat.

But if you still want to hide,
pull a tome and find inside
that you could live under the tide,
fight a fight or spy with spies.

If you don't need some advice
and you can't find blood sacrifice
*You set down your device,
and close your eyes*

It isn't such a quiet world
Until you find a quiet place
And if I see anguish on your face
Then I will try to change it.

When I'm miles from you, know
I close my eyes and you appear
Not exact, not like a mirror
Perhaps an apparition of your soul?

In this way I see you often
It's not the same I know, but know
You're so close to me wherever I go
Help me know that I can make it.

It isn't such a quiet world
Until you find a quiet place
Well I can see you in my face
And I know I can always find my quiet

You coax
I cloak
You go for broke
Idyllic 
Tip to toe in thick acrylic 
It wasn't what you said
But how you said it
Embedded in the yolk.

I find
A sine
Pick apart the twine
Comatose
Save the hum of nice ghost notes
A strike upon the head
Might make me hear it
Snapping like a fishing line.

A fire
Empire
Burned and then retired
Borderline
Rupture neuroendocrine 
But it didn't leave you dead
Woke you up alive again
An order to admire.

There's a face in every mountain
Sleeping in the premonition of the sun
Breathe out grace and calm, supine
Breathe in ammunition from your gun.

I broke the knob off on the red door
Glued it to the tomb of my enemy
And I could see me
And I could see the distant shore, crystalline
Then left and left me shivering
Because I was still Magdalene and what's more

The traffic winds through redwood forests
With it's dull gutteral chorus
How holistic thoughts did help the bears
They cut their teeth on laissez-faire 

What's more than a meditation?
Maybe a firm understanding 
Not co-reverberation
Not the on point branding

What's more than a celebration?
Or yet another landing?
Another shortcoming?
I wasn't born on vacation

If I could reach out in the night
If I reached out through the cold
If I could reach you
What would I do?
(A picture of a pet)
(A song composed by friends unmet)

If I could stream you bits
And we passed on the old road
Would you filter it?
Would you listen to my voices hiss?
(My flaps and taps and stops)
(My croaky northern packet loss)

Interaction is diminishing 
When I speak you aren't listening 
When you call upon me through the fog
I hear my inner monologue 

A billion voices flung to space
Wave creation at unrivaled pace
No ears to hear my poor guitar
My voice will nestle among the stars

It's not the bloom
Not the hue
Nor the blues
Or the cues
It's the flora fauna

Butter tunes 
Filling shoes
Fixes crude
Super glue
Got that azure aura

Look alive
Little moon
Rocket ride
Landing crew
Watch the crater

Too
In the groove
Miss the muse
Camera crews
I'll do it later

Turn to you
Still I swoon
Stutter smooth
At twenty two
Until forever

No excuse 
Drinking fumes
Faulty fuse
Hit the snooze
It's the carburetor 

A sloop
On the soup
Maybe four
Maybe two
Later alligator

If I cleaned my gutters out
I wouldn't think about
Violet flame.
Flowers drink rain.
So I wouldn't say lilacs 
Are hydroponically hard to maintain.

I'll know my fire went out
If I eye that bathroom grout
and feel ok.
There's no way
I'll get to it.
Nothing you can't clean with spit.

So long TV static sound.
You'd turn it up because you'd found
You'd feel ok.
Feeling frayed,
Another stage,
just treading common ground.

What is joy but what we make?
Another view of the same shape.
A little twist, a figure eight.
Just twist for me, babe.

Meaning is meaningless in space.
And constellations don't know their names.
A solipsist has lost the game.
Nothing in the mind remains.

The only real I cannot see,
from vision to visionary
are quiet eyes when you look at me.
Are quiet eyes that see through me.