I’m blowin’ up God’s cell for help with sleeping well.
Writing angels, asking if they’ll cook me dinner tonight.
Laughing while devils try to fuck with my friends.
I’m shovin’ loads up my nose just to see where it goes.
Writing loved ones as three different mes.
Swimming, as distance pours a tidal wave of quiet.
I’m standin’. Not reading what’s been written.
Lemon drop water, I’m drinkin’ it. Coffee too.
Taking deep breaths, making waves.
Alive lately, think I’m out of my way.
Showed her cards but I only know how to shuffle.
Maybe war, go fish, crazy 8s, it’s too late but I’m alive.
Speaking. Feeling. Giving. Living. Grasping.
Future versus failure.
Versus. Verses. I can’t write cursive.
Voicemails get old, I bet all the people are calling.
I’m writing angels, thanking them for living that way.
Smiling while demons sing and dance out there.
I’m drivin’ pedestrian roads over rivers with a full load.
Writing things out, wondering why I do this.
Laying next to music, I find me trying to get through
to a good night’s sleep.
When will we listen?
What would you do?
Do you think of me when I think of you?
Where is this going?
Will it work out?
A whisper hits me like light through a cloud.
Sunshine feels different these days.
Where everything makes sense
must be that side of some other fence.
Icy lemon water,
laughter rhymes with daughter,
and it seems we’re going the same way.
Put her ears on tonight for the first time in a while.
With that note, thought of a smile.
Why do we stay here?
When will we know?
The silence hits me like quakes from a bow.
What if I vanished?
What’s make believe?
What do you feel, and what is perceived?
Questions asked while listening.
Questions asked while listening go unheard.
You know, they go unheard.
Dripping up the well wall, climbing toward the light,
the littlest bug you ever did see, putting up a fight.
Staring at the surface, smiling at the ground,
the deepest gaze it ever did do, processing the sound.
Spinning to the sun, goes living in the feeling of home.
Wings flutter off to the clouds, focused like a fire,
they don’t look away, couldn’t look away.
Take time to get what they’re seeking.
Keeps moving. Fly’s walking.
Keeps talking. Fly’s grooving.
Keeps always just lookin’ around.
Sun’s just lookin’ around.
Climbing to the pinhole, finding fresh, fresh air,
the littlest bug you ever did see, getting itself there.
Eyeballing the highway, taking in the land,
the brightest sun that ever did fly, reaches out its hand.
Cacti shadows slide into nothing after sunset.
Who’s ever out there to see it?
Who’s ever looking around?
If you’re always awake, you’re never gonna wake up.
Go to sleep. Get some dreams.
Wake up, don’t chase aimlessly.
Coffee on the bedside.
I can’t seem to sleep right.
I’m so calm, I never fight.
I can’t relax, I’m so uptight.
Wired a little differently.
I’m still building my house.
Little more work on the roof.
Little more work on the kitchen and yard,
and I’ll get back to you.
Read my mind a book.
Give my mind that look.
Warm my mind a cup of tea,
tell me it’s not make believe.
Best of luck feeling the breeze if you don’t stop moving.
Slow toes down. Slug the wind.
Happy with the life you live.
I’m still building my bike.
Little more work on the brakes.
Little more work on the comfiest seats,
and then we will awake.
Read my mind a story.
Lily pads listen to the wind’s drowning whisper,
wondering why not slow to a stop?
Only observing, won’t say a thing.
Miles away, I’m walking down the side streets,
past half pipes and tongue tossed corner beats.
Thoughts unlawfully cross to a sidewalk
to run to the past.
Feet print streets near piled up streetlights.
Slip in a circle to wind up where they were
before they fell in, got lost.
The other side of the frost.
Scrape the handle, dig for keys.
Drive to things I tried to leave.
Roughed up windshield, have a sip.
Check the mirrors, take the trip.
Other side of the frost.
No matter what the cost.
Turning leaves trickle up a stream’s marbled surface,
wondering when the fall ever stops.
Only blowing by, won’t do a thing.
Hours away, I’m skating over blue lines.
Flip, icing life ‘til days drink warmer time.
Eyes surprisingly slide on unfinished rhymes,
reaching out for reason.
Morning walk around man made water.
Reflecting on words she’d spoken.
Glimmering light of a smile.
Gotta be ten feet quacking, flapping, floating in time.
Feathers weather the weather,
hanging, catch dreams together.
They ride on into the sky.
Grado, listening. Wires crossed, missing it.
Morning talks about a day she’ll find.
Echoing past words he’d spoken.
Whispering after a while.
Gotta be four heels clicking, ticking, tapping in time.
Gold goals, old souls with worn soles
dancing through dreams, so they’re told.
They never trace any lines.
Best not to stop the dreamers.
Best to go on with your life.
Best to worry about your own precious world,
dreamers are gonna be fine.
Days dreaming of places you’ll go
get you nowhere, you know.
We can do anything.
Somebody rent this movie reel,
pull it from the shelf.
Swear sometimes it just starts playing
when I am by myself.
I push pause and watch it.
There’s nothin’ wrong with that.
Sometimes you gotta stop the moving.
Nights gnawing on pieces of past
will slow you down so fast.
You can’t do anything.
Spin this vinyl scent,
drop the needle there.
Swear sometimes it just starts playing
and I don’t seem to care.
Leaning left, I listen
til no one’s song comes out.
That’s when you gotta sing the moving.
Couches changing colors, last week’s news on TV,
I sing when no one is listening.
Push pause and watch it over and over again.
Spinning black listening to my thoughts singing along,
next to love, til the end.