summer nights,
cruisin crisp
past the 4 par
down the windy roads, to start;
sun's alright,
feeling cool,
like sunglass shade
avoiding rays and stones.
lying by the babe
perfect summer thigh
eyes that go forever
chill n pool fox
stealing looks
underwear hanging dry.
shopping lists / bbqs,
ancient chinese lanterns in the sky.
sleeping in,
cold tile floors.
so in the picture you would see a human scaling the side of the house, this mansion, top of the hill,
overlooking the private golf course below him because obv the house sits one side to a cliff.
both the pool he glimpses as being the courtyard, and its waterfall below. So much of the
house is windows. He climbs up to the top to spy on the man who lives there,
and what this man is looking at.
The climber gazes down below through a skylight, and the moment before dusk begins,
pours thru. Plants have their territories, branches and leaves reach out to touch the light.
In the middle an exotic floor. Large, with rugs woven into narratives of the past.
He see's someone observing their first time memory of a cherished now moment,
that has resonated into their core as they exist now. He had made the dangerous
climb to see this.
He then felt like he and the man shared something, that then all people share, for we all exist as
our first memory of everything. That individual down below, looking and slightly thinking,
he was resonating with an old set of golf clubs in a worn leather bag. The idea that
at one time no matter who he now was, he had started something at the beginning. And
all of us know this feeling especially with what we love. The climber felt the connection.
He felt as rich as that man was. He made his way down the wall and slipped successfully
into the night.
He became something like when traveled far and landing in the most exact perfect spot.
you strip away
the possibility
of any other sound
you are left in
the presence of
the real.
-----
RIng ring
Hi hi
Whose there
Its me
Magnitude
&
Inevitability:
Happy / Sad
Scared / Sick
Angry / Surprised
Sleepy / Tired,
fire, fire;
Live recordings
Infinite scrolls
Innocent loves
hear it
hears it
direct and true,
very good shape
accurate asses,
circular balance
houselights down,,,,
Hold me
Show me
distant snow.
i wonder about
all the conversations
i dont hear, what all people say
to each other;
i wonder what those words do,
that are said in confidence,
the pile of secrets
in the air,
so thick cant see,
i wonder what could may brew
around me, us, the world, sky space gods and suns.
lots of looks
at other folks,
to maybe know,
what to do, what to do.
lips are closing once they heard,
lips be closed
sounds not heard, heads still thinking.
what can stop them,
what stops me,
who is anyone?
on the behalf of everyone.
the gentle brush of spring
splaying the latest light iteration
as the world turns and glides
blooms boom in the view,
the last shiver and hush of darker times.
as it arrives now forthly here
too short for how much beauty born
too little time as the wind blows,
as creatures emerge that slumbered,
as food and feast, tree
green translucent clover
soil tilled and life buds out
and learning to walk.
your dress a flower blossom,
smiling in the sun and us,
grass cut, trees make marvelous
shadows at the picnic.
a break for all the lingering
to dissipate and bounce.
we all play pretend
in the lobbies
of fancy hotels,
we act like we know,
or may be right
while being wrong,
we mess up lives
like our own,
we make life in everlasting ways,
we project
we arrive we are,
I am beating now as the
garden blooms,
forever home
all now
A hand can draw a line
all goes.
