It is common, or
it is not uncommon…a
way of saying something without
saying it outright, without
meaning it I think…but
that’s not true either; it’s just what
we say when we say what
we say.
I don’t know about that really; about
why we say what we say
about why what we say means one thing
today
and something else
entirely different
tomorrow.
I don’t know many, many things and one
is
why we are here…why we wake up every day, every
beat of our heart, every motion
we make, every
day, every
day…and it’s not uncommon
to assign attach define some meaning
because we have to
need to
want to…so
my meaning
is
you.

Happiness is not a word…it is a
state of movement multitude maximum and being;
always and not enough
…my happiness is you and I could have
put these words in any
order, any preposterous priority, any
unlikely aggregation…I didn’t
because I can’t:
I can only put them where
they are meant to be, grown and
nourished in the
light of your soul; your breath (soft
and sweet) freeing an inner energy, moving
perfect consciousness toward
…a hearth of warmth and solitude
and
…a place of trembling fear
and
always always always
…a life of untethered wonderment
for all that you are and are not…

We are multi-tenant dwellings, low
rise aggregations of living
space, rooms upon rooms
of differing perspectives and
opposite attractions…unburdened
by reality we live and breathe—work
and play—room to room

Inside is a place, a
room of warmth and quiet and
contentment…of stillness and
silence; a muted reverence
toward ourselves.
Inside there is a place, a
room of chaos and noise and
anger, fear, loathing and…
hatred; where
we hold ourselves
in contempt.
There are many rooms; simple
and complex, meaningful and
not…other rooms holding
other views.
These two rooms; hate and love
aren’t always on
different floors or opposite ends
or (we hope hope hope) different
buildings…sometimes…
sometimes they are
the same
room;
the one we
live in.

Three is the number that is the
special one; triad, trio, triple

triangle; each point one third the
whole…I’ve heard in dreams it
is sex family mother father child
life

I don’t know about
numbers…about
why some and not others, why
people relate to them, why
they are special to you or
you or you or you…but
not
to me.
I see numbers everywhere, all
and nothing, two for one, half

off, a dozen jelly-filled, ten fingers
ten toes…Dave’s top ten, divided
multiplied, subtracted and
added
fractions and decimals and all
in my head, in my
mind the numbers never
stop…but…
they are only numbers;
symbols for something else
an untouchable thing, a
ghost from something never alive.
Numbers are us and we are
numbers, we are symbols
but; we hope (we
count on)
not being something
else…not being
by the
numbers.

I don’t want to
be
oblivious unaware unneeded;
bliss is not….
underground behind bars and
hidden from
view…
happiness is not…
beneath the surface lost
in translation or
otherwise
occupied…
I don’t want to  be known for
not wanting for not
seeing for not
knowing when
seeing wanting knowing are
there and there and there and
there…
I don’t want to stumble
past the truth
but have it
in me
always…but
the truth is not created made fabricated
grown…nurtured…
it is. Simply. Completely…
and is something
I don’t want
to ever
not
want.

What does it represent as if everything has
to mean something has to
stand for something cannot
just be
itself
alone…well, it means
nothing everything inside
outside mirror image meanings
backward when looked
at from a front view, from a
point just beyond
meaning, just
beyond
touch…it means love and
hope and all and
everything again and again and
again…
this look, this sign, this moment, this
time is the time, the look, the sign, the
moment
waited for looked after and
will always be…it
is
now.

Days become weeks months years decades…life rolls quickly
a train on tracks straight toward tomorrow from yesterday through
what we know, dream, plan and scheme through walls of sleep of
tears of joy pain fear courage and mirror images; balanced or
not…always where we look and live, love and lay our heads down to
sleep to dream to hold and to be.

A single line flows through time that is us, is the “me” is the “you” is a
thin motion of living weaving twisting through the spaces between here
and then, there and here, encapsulating the vibration that the universe
knows us as; the beating bleeding seeing believing human-being always
competing something that knows but doesn’t and is forever searching for
an end to the beginning.

My line flips up and over, ducks under and around, slides forward
past the lip where the universe begins, past the point of no return, past
where none of us can see yet all of us know…around and around with the
full intent of reaching past its own reach, grasping at physical emptiness
emotional fullness…something worth grabbing holding having and
living within and with.

Your line slips the links of passionate living, flowing simple and soothing
toward the underside of today willing itself, yourself, into a completeness
missing from mine, from my ideas and thoughts…your line mingles and
converges; a supple twisting meeting seeing fine feeling of love and
warm happiness wound around smiles and tears and fear and moments
lost and found.

Lines of convergence braid, interleave…ride the waves of time and energy and  
feeling and emotion always flowing always going always about to be something
without changing what they are…becoming new and old in turns like pulsating
patterns of stars forever shining showing darkness glowing a night sky held
in arms of love and dreams…in hearts of history…
in lines of me and in lines
of
you.

It isn’t the pain that makes me look away, look to

the wall but through the wall at the horizon toward

where I am going  heading  falling ending what was

once started, once seen as a victory and is now simply

a life.

The tattoo lays on my arm where the muscle stops

and starts becomes arm from shoulder from nothing to

black ink something on under in…flesh, in me, in the

time it takes to decide to become, to surrender to

this life.

Why it’s there is a story too long to tell too short to

mention…always just below the skin, below the radar

below the threshold of pain that floats in my head, that

vibrates at a frequency too low but felt throughout

this life.

The wall stares back thinking this moment is the moment

is the split in the universe that gives insight toward

knowing and not knowing wondering which is which…is

the point of being seeing believing achieving anything in

a life.

No answers asked for…none given none taken, the answers are

where I look for them, where I find them where they are born and

die but are never more than what I make them and I

make them with insignificant fury toward shaping moving creating

my life.

What is a tattoo but a mark where time occurred where moments

left a meaningful stain, a pattern on skin on cells on memories on and on and

on the tip of my own personal history’s tongue waiting to be sung

around mental bonfires on beaches of sad glory in memoriam of

this life.

In the moment when confusion is the only thing I see
and the fog of doubt blinds me from my true reality
the thing that doesn’t fade and doesn’t disappear
from the jarring understanding of what I have to fear
is the love that I have found with you

It’s a part of me
in my, in my, in my
retreat…to honesty

As the houses fall around me or they feel like they should
while darkness rumbles into and over my neighborhood
darkness is brought by clouds of dust, of pain and of blood
emotional rivers rushing…gone now…leaving only mud
and the love I found with you

And it’s a part of me
in my, in my, in my
retreat to honesty

Countries come and go, kings and queens are born and die
people pass through this time, this place to cast a wary eye
the moon spins about the earth in a never ending loop
round and round we know, we know, never needing proof
of the love I found with you

It’s a part of me
in my, in my, in my
retreat to honesty

Something I can see
oh my, oh my, oh my

in my retreat
to
honesty

In the moment when this moment is the only thing I see
and clouds of hesitation prevent me from my destiny
this feeling doesn’t go away, doesn’t evaporate or fade
it grows stronger, deeper and makes me unafraid…
this love that I have found with you

And it’s a part of me
in my, in my, in my
retreat to honesty

oh my, oh my, oh my

in my retreat
to
honesty

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