circulation

If the universe is ever expanding then let us be expansive, too, in our generosity and openness, seeing each sunrise as an invitation to explore our communities and discover. This is hard to implement after trauma. I looked inward and outward and realized: becoming bright and friendly and inquisitive, open-hearted again, is one of my secret projects and clocking several years now. The world does not need me. But I am better off in circulation than out.

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contextual

If you decided to confine half your life to a tiny cube where you were walled in and given security in the form of money, health insurance, a predictable daily routine, comfort, artificial light, food, a title to define yourself by; would it result in sanity, health, happiness? If you lost someone you love under mysterious conditions and devoted your every waking moment to searching for them, would it make you crazy? Nobody can tell you how to live! You wear your own contextual skin. I prefer to be by myself from time to time, brew a pot of coffee, and listen. Inevitably I will confide in myself, and the day will then be won.

excerpt from my book

“Eyes like full moons…thumbs rubbing ink to a fade can no longer be read, just described, each curve of every letter glowing like moonlight, expanding in all their hundreds of thousands of spectacular finishes! See the flourishes, you lucky kid. Looking for my sister in her pale blues or barefoot could be a keystroke away, a daydream, attacking a search engine with a heart in America, pulling lightly on the ends of twisted plastic until the whole thing rolls over and out, examining the condition of our condition, concentrating on the ionic bond even when it hurts. Life, I love you, for in you I find it all, and still so much unknown to me. Kell. Where are you?”

young noir

rain was licking the drainpipes and teasing the window glass like a young film noir star throwing shade ona honeymoon killing spree in 1953. the screen was silver and we polished it, too. me and you. maybe we’re nobody. in the outskirts of a small city, you gave me midtown Manhattan, 1922. I felt like someone whose been kissed on both cheeks. enough of the valley. we went for  Sierras. the high of high peaks.

of purpose

Gave you my heart after all

the heartbroken

unspoken

the best chance I ever risked it all on

I gave you my heart and
you loved me out of blue
and all the colors run not
so disturbing
now

when I was alone the
monochrome was familiar
not unkind

I got used to the singleness

now I am used to
you