Morning and Midnight

it's strange this year, must be the place; things are coming up, or out, or back, things put in the past. people put in the past. songs that always held their spot in tangible torn off corners of my other lives. the desire for newer, brighter bindings feels lately fading, stemmed from lack of new findings I suppose and I consider the winter’s got me down and indisposed. the winter got me close. this year the winter bought the most in months of earnest mornings and solo midnight toasts. hours into light and feeling in the dark for ideas of fate. of faith and finding. positivity from all my faulty sides. some say faith is futile, some feel faith divine, but here I am for faith is just a question, and your belief in a strangers nod. in that sense, suspect the face of every stranger brings to you the face of god, and every foreign road should find you with a smile, knowing. you've been known. maybe now, maybe once, maybe all those eyes along the road were all yours before. I think the beauty in it all is the lack of answers, and life's only finite shine , is that it's all abstract. in bleeding over fate I've found that you find your choices in your day, they do not find you gripping, hanging on in faded jeans for glory and fatalist whims. we don't blow with the wind, and though the romance ripens in my blood, everything I have loved has been found by constitution in that only I decide I; and here I place nostalgia, here I take my name. these feelings all inherited, these feelings built the flame. this year I reach for firmament, and from the vault I'll pry.

It Started With A Song

it started with a song. from ancient to annuity, back before we knew at all. now in this glass reflections stain the places that we saw. left a mark in circles drawn concentric, and though clandestine times they knew me by, the center started small. now i am, then i was, and here we are memorials each dawn. the bleeding back prolific, the trials, tears austere. it started with a song and now they're all for here. so smile back, a while back, a toast to you and years.

With Words

with words, and only words to make all of lifes perfectly poignant truths, in form and finality, from ubiquitous to clear and conspicuous, in light of each our candid course.

In Little Rooms

given a small room for a vast becoming in every matter of the heart. a year contended and torn across a fence as all the places ahead, all acquainted friends and faces, and all the words find places left behind in a hurry as if anointed in only small talk and waning, waving hands all headed for our wastelands. the thoughts of lonely people in array, the streets all lined in fear. hearts afraid to brass, we'll all just disappear. in little box, in little room, and smile faintly in disguise. these lonely lost can't help but find, their numbered days, one year in time.

Retreat, Resolve

these trailing months in their life-white veil to fade the front let hindsight thrive in cold sole nights to forward face the day and let us prey on past discord. rest easy under warmth in sheets of resolve to better brave new faction. let history be only the tool to take us back in spectral observation when lack of sight shows not where we're led. no ghosts today, no past tomorrow. hold in heart the amity of you and you. winter will reflect in accord with bright of snow, hold close for heat those holy hours when you are your retreat.

Eager Sleep, Believer's Shore

such eager sleep i'm drawn, arms outstretched for dawn. we'll never reach, we'll never speak. the shore outlines the fall. in melted days before, arms outstretched i loved in all my worst and kissed in all my best so sleep for now and sleep forever melt along the shore. if we cold only speak the beach was just a moor.

Encore Everyday

this blessed binary, this only other self. person and persona through the encore every day. the past at last will come to play, but in the hours in between who forever came to stay?

Still The Silent Night

sing a silent night,
sing a holy chord.

the silence all alone at night,
the silence all a chorus.

feign and reign and blessed thou,
blessed are the bright.

in eyes and lies
the truth to stand
draped in holy style

Tapped

a vein that runs through me that still belongs to you, and when i tap that rush, that flood, that fools excuse...so only now i'll whisper still the truth that pours to chill; this place it taps a vein in me that still belongs to you.

Wide Eyed and Whiskey

what world for you endured in outskirts of convention? far from home and the comfort of that old front door, fleshed from the threshold in mind, reduced to fading contemplative notions in wistful times and reminders of never going back. the climb was longing, the tears revealing, smiles unnerving and the cost all blood, but the crest is high and the wave is riding while the view stays foreign, wild, and the whiskey burning irish. the good ones close now, the mad ones madder, the penance softer by soliloquy, and still, the sun sets in esoteric evenings, red and orange equal on the ground.

Blessed Rogue

always infatuated on my time with certain smiles, bags under my eyes. define that shade of red, and the way it kissed the sky. the lines are blurred objective ere the early stages rest, imagination onward wanders as all such rogues are blessed, to stop and spell the names of all the loves, dressed for death each holy night.

Always Only Fleeting

i'll keep my coastal secrets
wave goodbye each time
flirt to fade reality
your devils on my mind

Transcendental Musings: Full Moon Gospel

full moon gospel from flashback smile highs. revel in the center, walk the moonlit miles. guarded arms awarded theres no need for time. onward darkened destiny, bright with green, foreshadows cast

The Greatest

the greatest years are yours.
the greatest years are here and always.
the greatest year's inside and wear appellant eyes.
in endless eerie echoes, the greatest years you'll find.
look at last how bright the path, how dark the twisted pine.
the greatest year so yet to bless. the greatest years forget.

Long Lost Somethings

anonymous and alive in place
stood side by side,
and found out quiet spaces filled the void
where voices failed to try
i lean on all the next times
when delusion beds and binds.