Category Archives: thought lines
we’re not sailing or set adrift,
the night no longer belongs to or bothers us,
for we’ve moved past the moor.
swimming together, always together.
days inconsequential, like a shipless ocean.
there is no noise, or other boats
between us, the horizon shared,
a narrative of the love we swear,
without vice or anchor.
i come to you, in this old grey shirt and a smile,
promises of the heart exchanged with a glance,
bonded by the desire to never let go.
an endless sea.
i see her behind my eyes,
glowing through my every sight,
turning, twisting, blue,
each blink creates a smile.
into the waves together.
(for belinda. x)
An empty city I don’t remember
A distant name I fail to place
People ask me questions about the past
Besides the memories I share with myself
I don’t like to remember what it was
Slowly selling what I own
Nostalgia is denial
That the future can’t be as good as an imagined history
The influence is finite
Sleepwalking through each minute
The right side of my brain
Lets me list the way it is
Is surely just the next big thing
I never had it
You never lost it
Keep on crying
If it gets you to sleep
On a global level
We can only dream of
Lapses of memory
To only ever talk of walking tall. Letting light shine only softly & seldom seeing signs of more. Missing out on milestones. A figure is fast approaching. A grey arch over a body of water. The streetlight shows the water lapping at the heel of the dusty concrete as a choice to steer clear is made. People pass on a bridge, eerily lit by the reflection of the floating, lower waves. At night it’s so much more sinister, the bodies draw close. There is tension as their paths cross.
A missed connection, a blind spot for fate, as they both look the other way. Their stories never stick together, never intertwine. They rarely get the chance.
Folk are far too concerned with looking good or just where else to look to not look bad. Most times out of ten people really don’t care that much, their concern is with themselves. You can lose your mind if you get captured in this kind of detail. Possibilities are endless and if you don’t believe me go to any bar. It’s a room full of those professing to wear their heart on their sleeve that communicate in code, if they choose to at all.
There are no places I want to be.
I read that people of a certain faith used to sit around & get to know each other by asking set questions. The questions were set to avoid the awkwardness of what do you do, or where were your first pages turned. Only one of these seems important to me, or of any interest at all. To candidly discuss what makes you afraid with someone you’ve just met. Now that is interesting. The idea behind it is genius as your taboo then becomes your common ground, what better way to break the ice. For secrets grow stale & gain weight. If you want to handle baggage work at an airport. If you insist on traveling, travel light.
There is always an option. We choose the way we speak & to some extent, how we appear to be.
The other option is to always look for ways to stay the same.
the pink and blue bleed into each other
there is not a point where either start or end
just where the sun burns past lowslung clouds
and after staring for a while,
a pattern casts, trailing with my blinking eyes
lifting and falling like life under a microscope
as I run my gaze across the horizon.
it’s nice to stop here
on the corner amidst the sea of people
pushing past to home.
darting through i notice no one looking up
lightning lets lines frame frowns
then eyes lift as mouths open,
fleeting fireworks from me to you.
the good news is,
i’m almost there.
i like the way certain trees
can shape the sound the wind makes
as i walk alongside the train tracks
i could swear to you
that i can hear the breath of the ocean.
to my ears
i feel like i’m on a cliff
with the clouds ahead preparing
to rage over serene waters
marking the beginning of the storm.
it’s about to rain & i’m waiting
i’m wondering if this ground will soon
be too wet to walk on
or will my shoes commence to slip?
when is a good time to do anything?
i don’t like talking much,
the idea of escape is amazing.
encapsulated by the absence of light
a man tormented by the guilt of his past
feels he is owed beyond his own sentencing.
is he entitled to a second chance,
or just has nothing left to lose?
“the love i feel is not confused
i shouldn’t feel so good
its weird feeling guilty about your life
when it’s going so good
enjoy it while it lasts
there are still things i’d change in life
like where i went each day
& that i want to truly let the ideas i have inside me
to grow toward beauty.
in this cell.”
yesterday he lay dead on a hospital bed
cycling, swimming, running, relapse
these were the order of events
he wrote about them all
these are the stories to be told.
an idea can be a simple thing
the impulse to mention something
to shake somebody’s hand
a thought that manifests in action
looks upon faces registering acceptance
& maybe a mention of time
to be something more than words inside
that within seconds are often swept away
for some reason this one remains
days later phones ring &
plates are contemplated
it leads to other things
& before you even realize
the favour is returned.
are worth fighting for.
Celebrities are murderers & thieves. We are encouraged to look the same. To get ahead we travel in the same direction. We travel through arcs, the shortest distance. It’s not like it used to be. The real Heroes were pioneers. Those who were the first to do the things that had never been done. It’s incredible how proving a point can open up the world a little bit. Greater circles.