Scribbles 'n Bits

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  • Close Your Eyes, Passerby

    Close your eyes:
A tortuous path ‘round leaves,
a smoky inhale,
an acrid, honey exhale
smiling sweet in the pane.
It’s nice, they say,
when your eyes open
and that place you stay...
    The ocean at the end
of the lane, 
out there.
Quietly waiting
with the sun, we stare. 

Digging my own grave
inside a bottle of Jack.
Living life worth leaving
and it ain’t half bad.
Kill me with a smile;
never take it back. 

Don’t know what’s waiting,
passing through trees out there.
A hazy, white wolf 
with a welcome-home glare. 

A knock at my soul
hello to the ones who stay.
Chilling with my friends
fuck the rest away.

  • Preposterous Ponderings: Pointless and Plain

    If it seems complicated,
    it is.
    Isn’t that simple enough? 

  • A Most Patient Game

    A quizzical creature bundled down.
Quilted together, cut,
from the same cloth - 
different scissors. 
Warm until tattered,
somehow catching wind.
A tired, musty dry line sagging
and swaying.
Moreover, the unreachable 
often still reach you. 
Crooked, but as usual,
the only one in town.

  • Benched

    The bench spoke to me. 
I waited so long: 
the daily walks,
the nervous glances,
 - hoping. 
I made excuses, 
now thinking about it, 
to walk by. 
Deluding myself to believe.

No,

I do like walking.

I do like that bench.
 
Around and around
that gnarly,
blood-footed path.

And then
sat, 

“please leave“ it requested. 
An underwhelming introduction, 
but 
chills and flutters
still. 
I walk on.

  • Lunch Break Microcosm

    Watch the ants wander
Cherries soften into earth 
Scattered leaves garnish

  • Sanctuary

    Cradle in the arms of pine needle anemone
Wash in the light of magnetic, bleach sand
The biochemical hum of gray matter overlapping white
Subtle lucidity of this square foot garden

Find your sanctuary,
Build your peace

  • A Mantra

    Death before us, life upon us.

  • Parasite Obsolete

    A novelty, 
she turns each page
with as much emotion as she reads. 
Petals pressed, feathers caught, 
stories from the back of the book;
pages no one else sees.
A leak in performance
held by drying wrinkles. 
I stared at each word so long,
clinging for dear life
to everything she whispered,
the slow march of typeface
across skin. 
Dangling by fear and craving
off the sidewalk’s end.

  • Honest Tea

    Of all the colors counting
my favorite one is you. 
I couldn't be more happy
if all the snacks were blue.
Statistically speaking - tongue tied - 
vomiting words, 
but all completely true.

  • Forge

    Go, go on 
    Go on comfort 
    Go on pain 
    Go on grip of something beautiful 
    Go, go on
    Go on common
    Go on fate
    Go on hard fought and earned 
    Go, go on
    Go on, love
    Live life like a dying breed 
    Change - my first and last dying need 
    So go
    Go, go on