i haven’t written you in a while,
to tell you i’m alright; i’m fine,
i swear it on these watermarks, not
tears, i send with words i’m okay
Posts published in “Year: 2013”
love is being inconvenienced,
but knowing it’s all worth it.
i heard
the world is going to stop
and let us off,
but i still seem to be
spinning, spinning,
holding on to everything
you tried to take
for granted, but i
wouldn’t let you; and
now we’re granted
space from one another…
i heard
the world is going to stop
and let us off,
but i still seem to be
spinning, spinning,
holding on to everything
we took for granted, but you
let go when you left; and
now we’re done, so i can
walk away, the other way,
and not even bother to get off.
it’s easier to write bullshit and say, “that’s good…,” than it is to stop writing and try to pick back up.
yo
i got a million lines, but you’re not gonna last long enough to see 30.
got bars in front of me but i ain’t complain’in’, nah,
i’m just boppin’ my head to the one and now the next, playa’–
hope you see me not as the threat i’m meant to be, but as the
knowledge you can make it if you stop accepting the pessimism
so familiar to the anxious and doped into thinkin’ the world’s theirs,
but we, together, can take the lease and lean a bit straighter,
keepin’ it even with the wall and not slanted no more–
keep my name out ya’ mouth and my words in ya’ heart, ‘cuz i
just want to move you forward, keep chasin’ those bars like
they ingots ‘n’ not a cage, though there’s barely a difference
when you take a step outside the mind and see we’re all in kind.
yeah,
i actually want to give a fuck but they’re all used up on
the bullshit/hypocrisy of another day in a world we claim is
beneath the heavens and not part of ’em– kind of like how
a wheel is still part of the car, not like we’re free from
the gravity laws; nah, we’re just coastin’ along like
the hubcap rollin’ to the shoulder, but wait– nah, we’re not,
we’re still a finger on the hand flippin’ off the universe as we pass,
like we’re not part of the whole, just an obnoxious tyrant with no land of our own– nah,
nah,
like we’re not part of the whole, just
an obnoxious tyrant with no land of our own– nah,
nah,
like we’re givin’ everything we are to somethin’ we’re not
and not gettin’ back a damn thing, except the realizations
we’re different somehow from everyone else experiencin’ the same;
but what if i told you the world is a beehive and you’re just
stuck in the darkness, hatin’ on the bees flyin’ out to
bring some back to you, a byproduct of givin’ back to the world–
hold on, though, i’m not sayin’ that’s everyone, nah.
we got the ones stayin’ fat with the yellow like they
can’t be bothered with the community, just themselves–
that’s why i respect mr. buffett and mr.+mrs. gates,
those who recognize the health of the hive depends on
every resident, not just those who can afford to survive.
ain’t got mo’ than
what i was born with
and, lucky for me,
that’s just enough
to be better than the average
when it comes to bein’ average–
guess that makes me average;
i’m okay with average.
“got,” is a strange word.
tells you of another’s
ownership, or your own,
but has a fleeting
connotation. “i got
mine,” “i got time,”
“i got that,” but for
a bit, not eternity.
seems to be the pre-
sent perfect of, “had,”
but what do i know?
i’ve got nothing but
words.
with an endless, unbounded amount of miles to go
before i can say i’ve seen it all, or even
a little bit of what i want to see, i
can say, truthfully, my life has gone some
sort of way; not sure, still not sure, if i’m
exactly where i want to be, if by floating point
or random assignment. can’t say i care, either.
Just think–
Candi & Chris
were going along
through life
on their separate ways,
and somebody
up there
somewhere
must have said
these two
need more–
they need
someone who
will make their lives
whole, so
why not
one another?
i got a plan,
i swear i do,
i got a plan
to be with you.
i keep telling
myself it’ll be
another day i’ll
tell you how i feel,
but maybe tomorrow…
i keep telling
myself you’ll be
better off with
-out me, but the
way you see me i
can’t let you go.
i keep telling
myself we’ll be
better when we’re
older, wiser, had
more time to be
misers, forget
that way and
move on from it;
but, we’re
moving more now,
faster than
walkin’, from
where we were to
where we’ll be.
I want to be buried,
to let my bones be
as my skin leaves;
I want to be buried,
to let root a tree
by nourishing seeds;
I want to be buried,
to one noon feel
dance of shiver’ in breeze;
I want to be buried,
to be, by beauty,
of one with thee;
I want to be buried,
so we will, in
light’s graces, meet[ again].