4B 110

I wanna hear the way the air sounds, when a set of words are said. Wanna look up at the stars and feel their knowledge for all the days ahead. 

The memories still gloriously looping - going back to - still looking up into - the silver walls, late in the night....as the room burns with the sizzle that equipment lights make after the film shoot is over. 

Zapping the frenzied fragments you remember between the leaps up&down stairs --- making sure everything is just right, yeah it's all right -- clad all in black and letting the night just roll over... 

Best part of this mad young life of ours. Let me lean back out of frame and just smile at creating a world inside a room.

And then it's slow-dancing in the room to say goodbye. Then it's the smell of champagne and sitting with your team one last team. We're wrapped and life is good.
Driving home barely before this brown city awakes.


When we think of it - in that style of messages - there's not enough I could ever say to you! All this great world in our artist minds.

We're just letters and 'ports. I'll meet you there every time. Let's go where the bricks contain red-infused bar vibrations of weekend regulars and wood floors from decades past. The fellow puppeteers of this generation can be found there sometimes, talking so close of cinema - that their lips, they almost touch. The words, the stories, are just so savory. Sometimes more than the waiting kiss. 

Never running out of the passion for life. And the pints, they help sometimes.
Smiling so wide, like the miles.

It's all there, waiting to be grasped.  I can build for them the most marvelous sets for lust. Or I can whisper to you a lullaby about what life's all about. 

Just looking up into it all, and hey, I don't have a name for the way something new+old feels like better breathing. Think the seasons of the mind, they're falling in love. Shouldn't we all? 

What's the choice you'd make between the two? All our dreams, they're astounding. Electrifiying the movements. The waves, they churn. Take a swim in the midnight cotton sheets.

Won't it snow already? Craving the magic. We all need a taste of the season.

.

Lessons

So much of the time I get lost down tangled trails. Lose myself in the pattern of random failures & successes in the branches. 

Those tiny thoughts, that just settle in the quiet un-resolve, into your day - that vague annoyance preventing you from sleeping - but you can't remember exactly where it started. 

Where you missed a step. It seemed so steady falling asleep into someone. 

Wonder if I rewrote someone else's words they'd mean something new. Wonder why, if that's --- hey, why you're repeating old lovers thinking the same? 

Aren't we all a little aimless when no ones home at night?

There are such moments of love that come -
when all the faraway friends send letters and trinkets and we yearn for one another's success.
We care and we embrace, and we support.
I cherish it so. 

When the morning tea is sipped slowly in a comforting place, it's a new concept. When the new puppy comes barreling into your lap, and the breeze runs through honeybee curtains and it's easy living!

When we come together for nights with faces too long unseen, eager with words.

When you stayed up laughing till dawn.

We're all plans and fervent longings…. grasping for an ancestry of our own creations. 

And so they flutter - our plans. 

And who knows where it's supposed to go when it doesn't fit for the other person. 

You shove your hands into your pockets and hit the city streets to feel the pulsations of tracks, and other lonely souls. 

It was so easy, so I thought. It was effortless, unlike the others, old friend. It was friends telling us to stop looking so happy. And then it went silent. 

Static. cssshwwwlksfdfsd. Can you hear me? 

Oh well, I'll watch the way it departs. The feverish, aching, duel of pacing farther away from the ones we love. 

Wrong again. We wake up tomorrow and cast another spell. 

The Knowledge of the Bay

They call me by that old phrase - my brother he calls me a rolling stone….when it is I guess that its noticeable how I grow restless ---  when it was, that I was soaring back and forth the same half the country on airplanes and….. and, well - so many unfinished sentences. 

And now I've purged all the dirty past from myself (again) to the point of existing clean. My lungs, my liver, my conscious,  my weary raveling magical stars twinkling inside…..breathing so quietly, walking slowly to the low water's edge in order to soak up the pure knowledge of the green Bay waters. 
To swim, and stare at the sparkling waves, 
and have nothing but that for a summer. 
My illness squeezing the screaming head off the temptation for any wandering path of former vices.  

Coming back home to the very origin of where first every feeling of peace became. 

A few nights ago I found myself as one sixth of a round dinner table - on a square wooden porch - with a single glass of cold white wine easing my throat -- as the summer bugs called out and the steam rose about us from the grass below. And I sat back and smiled, peering over the steaming pot of chocolate fondue….and felt so good. Oh, how funny - this 5th? existence of a place, and a time. 

The secret desirous pleasure of moving states. 

What's my point tonight? Oh hell there's just open waters in my mind these days without direction. As the body rebirths into a new phase of healthy --- and I feel the first tickles of unsettling, wonderful magnitude of possibility -- of a great adventure lying just ahead. 

But calm the beating thunder for just a little longer. Keep it at peace.  

Rest now before you accelerate. {}

Ohh…. because it can accelerate in a way that no momentary make believers could ever imagine. When it heats, and curls and rolls (like the incense)….the rolling rushes of it…. the majesty of an ocean in the depth of nights by the full moon. 

And somewhere far off -- the celestials, they're sparkling so fine - they'll align - and no once notices. 

But I'll look up to the stars visible suddenly, and fill my face with mischief. 

Hearty and goodness kind of mischief.
It's entirely different, I knew just a glimpse of it once. 

{ love }