made this way

smiling

i was made smiling
enamel chippin off the tombstones
of my teeth

pouting
turning slightly tangerine
when you pinch
my bottom
silent
i was made silent
feelings mixed up inside me
not one has found
a way out my
mouth
standoffish
not because i think im better
because i did not at all fit
in
i was made this way
if you don’t like me
so what? it’s who i am
and i don’t like you
neither

tra.nce join.t

no right no wrong simply colorful everything simply
all night long

roll tight trance joints 4 the crowd
2 feel

no. the future’s not cold
computer. still

clouds pressured by
fronts to tears are
driven

woven and rolling are feeling and warm

are driven are crying and living

are dying and rolling

are woven into

the life

(self)

the effect the world has on me thickens my skin. i become less vulnerable while trying hard not to be completely insensitive. i wanna be able to feel cuz you gotta feel, to feel alive. like anyone i wanna feel safe. a thick skin can protect. like trusted family and friends. deadbolted doors.

there is something juicy at the core of you. something sacred and true that the world cannot corrupt. you can share this with them. they can see it in your eyes. they may get under your skin. you can learn to protect your sacred self. and offer it with those who are deserving.

kindness and compassion make for the best tasting fruit. the ability to see behind personalities is a great gift few have. those who have or develop this capacity are often smiling or less fearful walking the world. for they realize that even the hardest among us have a sweetness deep inside.

the best feeling

can be an everyday feeling not an unusual feeling and not one i wake up to necessarily, no, the best feeling arrives in the process of the right action, when i am doing the good and often unpleasant work. and when the hard work proves the best feeling, time after time, we see we can count on it. that’s how stuff becomes just a little easier for us, and living begins to knock kindly.

harmless

i am not out to get anyone and i doubt i am so important that anyone would be out to get me either. i get upset and jaded and rebellious and depressed and lethargic and dramatic and hyper and childish as much as anyone. i get outta bed and clean myself up and make me some breakfast and coffee, and head out to work my ass off everyday just like anyone tryin to get by in this crazy world. i have trauma in my past which reaches out to grab me, too. i have good memories of being a carefree kid and am grateful to my family for all they did to raise me right. i went a little sideways, sure. who didn’t? i have my moments i feel elated and free and my spirit is strong these days. but i still make mistakes like anyone, i have my pitfalls. believe me, i mean no harm. i’m not out to cause anyone pain, and i don’t really subscribe to the idea that other people are the cause of my pain. well, maybe sometimes i feel that way. but at my best, i know my pain is my pain, and no one else can really be to blame. not my mom, not my dad, not my friend, not my enemy, not my brother, not my sister, and not even god.

couch with netflix

some of my best decisions come outta me when i let go of logic and hold on to that feelin and so was tonite as i went ahead (with only a sliver of ‘proven’ in my pocket) and signed myself up (placed my bet) for the Cali International Marathon this december and the Run The American River Parkway (20 mile) event this november, so now i have 4 months of arduous training ahead which was not part of ‘the plan’ in my head all year, yet i will follow ‘the feeling’ instead cause it seems to make my life alot more interesting. i will be the first in my family to run a marathon so that’s cool, make my family proud. the greater hope i have and the part where the leadership quality in one’s own life appears (leadership as one who makes the unpopular and ever outrageous split decisions which turn out very well for everybody in the end), is not to shelf but rather to impel the big idea – the Book (of course) – i have my heart set upon. how? well, i reached ten miles (on my own time) in my latest run. i’ve been keeping a close eye on the physical as it interacts with my mental and psychological, and it’s been mostly stimulating. object in motion stays in motion kinda theory (which i believe in). yes there have been days lost to these long runs. but what is lost in the immediate aftermath of physical exertion is restored only to complement/supplement the mind and spirit quite soon after hydration and sleep. in these (restorative) conditions the muse is more likely to come out and play, and certainly more reliable than couching (her) with netflix.  my grace period (i gave myself) ends on halloween, what with national novel writing month on its heels. what i’m saying is, if you are leading the way in your life like you oughta, you may be unpopular with yourself but good things will follow, or inspiration follows perspiration (a duller way to say). i am making my moves and enlarging my ‘risks’ for greater ‘rewards’. the populist in me has the simple-minded view that drop-everything-2-focus-on-writing-the-books is the easy answer to all my problems, but the populist has made my life a living hell (in the past) because she’s an idealist and not at all pragmatic. times I so situated myself to carry on her way did not yield any bountiful harvest… i can see… so that my Book(s) may be written, I need only follow the feeling, drop the populist, lead the way, and amp up an already amped and blessed life scenario. are you with me? hold on cause here we go

12.17

I wanna hold on to that little bit of joy that comes over me like a mist on a foggy morning, I am wet with it, a taste of clarity of wholeness as if all my past is right here with me and I could take you through my eyes to any given moment, yes, come after a really good night’s sleep so rare, or maybe if I run a few miles really hard and fast as I can, I can get that special feeling like all is well, the future has no stake in it, when in the empire the interest rates begin climbing, from the base of Denali after stasis, after a decade of descent… what does it matter for my heart also ascends up Mount St. Elias and into my head for a second, tethered to a wild pack of neurotransmitters in the Cortex ravine by well placed stakes and caribeners, awaiting the next big storm will send me in a rush flying to another death, my adrenaline  drizzled over the top of Mount Foraker only to get hit by the sun a couple days later and reborn, over Endocrine valley where the estrogen in me highlights the tips in the alpine meadow, under a cobalt blue, and my spirit summits Mount Blackburn for to see all the way to Canada and to you, our memories collide for past lives, within a life, covering all 16,237 feet of Mount Sanford, yes, and I want to cry then but my joy prevents me, and you gotta believe I wanna hold on to this feeling, I wanna stay here cause I like to believe it was a lot of work to get here to where the vision rewards me, atop Mount Fairweather I can see you and me so clearly and maybe not picturesque but we know where we stand. Sure maybe I don’t know you anymore and can honestly ask you who the hell are you anymore? even if it hurts I just have to ask. Because beyond all the wonder I felt in meeting you in this world in this life, well, we are past that now, aren’t we? I sure as hell wish you were here with me again, to feel it too… the life of love survives beyond the love affair and into a stirring night alone into a dawn on the side of any mountain carry me away.

unloved. a meditation

I thought about the origins of a feeling of unloved
How many generations one must go back
How long it had been passed down
And how could this weed ever
be uprooted

Or would you always
forever feel unloved
no matter if all the world gave you its heartbeat
the sky and the earth
the birds and the trees
the honey and sugar
the radio the tv

the winter spring
summer and fall
the lonely ghost faraway down the hall