Books Collected.

Where have we gone? Like one of those beautifully illustrated old books collected --- I just picked it back up yesterday. In the cold autumn twilight, with the candles burning and the folk songs crackling through old speakers, it just fell into my hands, my heart again… And was it ever gone? 

If I knew what we were then, and where to go, I'd travel the miles to your doorstep once again -- swear it  -- but I think you moved. I think we moved the mineral cliffs of fate in a way that wasn't natural. With my books of ethics I could run far away too, as before --- speak in other languages and jump across the sea -- but I'd be telling lies in a different way. The great big lie, for so long, that I can hear you saying to the wind as well; "will it ever go?". 

So with this old book, let's let the mind fall down into the pages of a better, romanced, story -- just tonight remember--- one where "crossed" was all we were in fault…Where we had everything, and then it was gone so beautifully. So beautifully understood...When the leaves rustle all at once on my walks -- and he's running late coming home -- it reads like how I feel about you, and how we were young together in the night… 

I've been mine, and yours, for so long that there must be another way. 

. . .

Red Wine

Think my veins are made of something like boiled red wine of late,  - like that blood red moon eclipsing everything beyond the stars. Rememberin' the night in California we heard the wolves howling up at it across the dessert fields, and a bad shiver went up through me then that's hardly faded since…

Outside there's people shouting into the churned-about wind, and as it is around here - can't tell if it's out of drunken joy or haunting fear. Can't tell the shrieks from one another anymore - they just get lost in the cars and the echoes and the buzzzzzing of that motel neon sign. 

We just forget anything was said.

Guess I'll go to bed with my demons tonight - they seemed to be what's summoned up. Pit-feeling threatening - swinging that ole eerie pendulum between the kind of road-wearied glad-to-have-had-it pain you meet like a friend - and the monster kind of sickened turns. Hating broken bones for the mistakes they've known, the wrong doors they've walked me across. 

But maybe all this is really the ending of my haunting. Now that the ghosts are out & about to play with every lonely soul that gets caught out past twilight - now that other companions can be found for them. 

Now is when I feel a sense of being myself - this season every time, and these days&nights of recent late after so very long... When everything is cloaked in shadows - it evens out. 

Lurk around corners no more, why don't you move on too old spirit? Give up on what you already abandoned, the house has fallen crack-on-crack inside itself… It's October when such things seem so very beautiful and eternally perfectly placed…but it's just a witchy trick. The snow, then spring, wipes it clean -- then it only seems barren too. It won't make the year end - this "you and I" is dead. 

There's such greater things ahead! Such sweet things that go down like amber whiskey... everything that feels like change and winter.



.

Let me be

. . . . . .

I beg again - let me be free of you. 

Let me have a beating heart once more.

Leave the part of my mind that you've encamped within -- 

And let my sleep, oh sleep, be pitch hours in such a peace of nothingness - 

instead of vivid stories of us happier than, well - than you are with her tonight.

More lost than ever known, when every morning that I wake -- I remember all that's been. 

I remember that I love you.

And that we were just a whisp of air and promises buried under secrets,

Forgotten all entirely.

Yet still you look at me like I could save all the world -

-- and beg of me to be.

Still we know one another.
Every laugh -- immediately following, mourns for what it soothed.

No joy in waking hours found --- found my mind to be stone cold.

Because she wakes within your arms, - there are no chapters after that.

Let me be free of you now that all's been said. 

. . . . . .

Leavin' Nights

Hear that pounding -rrrCRACK!- thunder out there?
Let's run out to it!
Let's get soaked in something miles above - cause we're miles away -
Maybe we'll happen to meet, in the middle of our opposite edges of the country.
Lateral line.

/ / /  It was one of those leavin' nights   / / /

. . .

It's one of those leavin' nights - feel it pullin' me -
Well past midnight driving past The Pier.
Those hills up high are catchin' the light, of the biggest summer moon I've ever felt.
The waves crashin' still - and that smell of salt on my skin, & cloves on my just-numbing tongue.
[Your potion, it took too long to heat up]
Ease back into it, in the old seat...falling back over the chords in your song -- wishin' on more starlit hours to say everything.
Spent the last ones just starin' at who you are.
All the deepest secrets spilled out silently - caught up between hurdling laughter - how I should've kissed them goodnight!
Should've kissed, and awoken us.
Thoughts at the bottom of a sand dune, and a bottle of rum - on a blackened beach with shimmering waves of a color I could never define.
Dawn will come and go as always. I'll be packing my bags then - between early rays of light - in a crisp white hotel room. It'll be goodbye for now.
It'll be spilling over days of inspiration onto real creation.
It'll be leavin' a beautiful place.
Souls of broken hearts - we always find each other in crossways. We always come to this feeling - it's the closest to myself that I could ever explain.


. . .

Our fleeting, fluttering, falling into demise...

That soul I'm missing is just a ghost.
He's just a ghost.
His skin, his touch, his truest laugh --- all evaporating upon the summer sweat.

Our fleeting, fluttering, falling into demise-kinda-memories
are so distant that I swear
- it really was just a dream made up in half-waking,
like all the other dreams I have of us so often still.
To where my mind does rest these nights.
To why I toss and turn and curse believed-in stars -- until near dawn I just get up and start
another wearied day.

Can't remember what kissing anytime was like - oh what that was! - or the smell of him, anymore. But it's like breathing without a heartbeat
ever since.
Everything has come undone.
And somewhere too far back was the best I'll ever be for now. Grasping only brittle…disciplines-
of how to fix all my little world, again, for the big wide greatest-world out there sure does loathe us
knowing anything more.


I sure miss him when the day is done though. And every-day that very fiber gets smoked deeper, into the hollow lungs breathing numb.



That's it! Why don't we escape for a respite in this end?
Why don't we, have the beautiful joyful time that should've been in the beginning -- now in our imminent end-for-now.
( End for when? ) "End" has lost all emphasis to my ears - and yet it cracks the voice if ever said aloud - so of course my mind repeats it like a mantra.
Someday someone.
All the answers lay just beyond that flight across the country, across the promises --- across undoing everything I said before.
Screw it.
And let's be some of the days earned, and ached, and desired for so slowly for years.


Meet me at the point
where we fell for a love before. Follow me to the place
and we'll wake without uttering a plan or a word.
Just spend those hours entranced…
and walk slowly away -- cause life is stolen, terrible ideas -- the best we'll ever be.



.

Cooling It

Someday I'll tell you all of what this feels like - leaving you. Over again in small amounts each night. Pushing us back down again into dreams. All of me has become fragmented thoughts - and yet round it goes ceaselessly. Turn and wake and fall and turn...Are we both haunted then and beyond undoing? Breaking and mending at once, yet the hope abounds in waves - so suddenly I want all of you so ravenously.

What once was sanctuary from the world - you now need saving from. So go and roam as far as you need - if you need it -- let something else destroy and elate. Feel the sensation of a great & terrible journey conquered...find the answers. Navigate that tired old road back home again like I pray it bends, and tell me everything again. I'll be waiting to come back to you. I'll be done my leaving.



.

Let it Rise

Soak my entire naked body in sacred bourbon -- it wouldn't be enough. To numb what finally rose to the surface after long months of sealing my own lips --- blood dried marks where they stitched right up so clean --- wouldn't suffice. Now it's all ripped open. Tastes so good as it destroys my voice in yelling out. The words that I knew, that I hid, cause they're soaked so thick in one soul.

What of my sanity? Think I'll offer it to the moon tonight in the deepest ritual yet performed --- and awaken transformed into the force within. The darkness, let it rise! Lay me down as I pray to destruction. Oh holy ground, we meet again --- and this time behold the strength of a sorceress. 

In this war of consciousness --- let your body tremble in all of the feelings that lurch to let out, and rumble to cage. So just let it out to roam and the wildness will double over to master. Double over upon the weight of the ends of the sea where monsters are. Where ships go and never return --- but what of the joy they must have found in paradise of even keels? To whatever god you whisper to; may they favor the outcome of celestial courses. Crossed or align, differences hardly vary now --- onward sail!

Watch how the water all day changes it's course hundreds of times in the sun --- hide me from the glory -- because how I tried to waver just as many times over and failed. Sat in cathedral silence entranced by the confusion abounding everything and still the reserve of remaining the same as the start. Still so safely on shore and still so strangely drowning. 

So behold as we adjourn good congregation; kindred spirits of the depths. You'd recognize me no more in a conquered state of blasphemy --- and yet feel ever greater to the glory we praise. Taken one scripture to be stolen, and away let's run, ripping bible pages in the air in a trail of rapture and revelation…

----

Breaking the Hopes of Spring

Been waking up with the skeletons of troubles on my pillows. The demon-ry of it, can't seem to make the senses feel right -- can't seem to understand it's tangible true source. What of my great thirst? Somewhere I left that wild yearning behind in a traveling course or a heartbreak -- somewhere in between all of those ruptured things.

And outside the snow just keeps falling, keeps breaking the hopes of spring -- always thought the whiteness felt like everyone's icy dark parts mystified. Like loneliness falling. Seems so haunting, especially tonight, the hushhh sound of it. The sharp cold. This hard, hard town - it takes from us.

What of the great thirst? The piercing kinetic heat felt at every choice and every night, and every thought of answering the questions that we share to embrace one another's existence in this place. How I long for the longing again! The warm sweet dewy breathe of the season and of ourselves inside. Wish it would wake me from this heavy hibernation that locks upon every thought before rest. Wish it would be, and be, and groove upon some fabled dance with the passion of all.


///