He is a man
with dreams of those promises…
…but disbelief
that through today
lay the path
to heaven or
earthly happiness.

Cold mornings
and coffee
blending into
too many days, maybe
too few
opportunities
but it is not sadness
but hope
but dreams
that
direct the way.

It is the warmth of
what can be,
will be and;
eventually is.

Love.

With an eye set
on the horizon
ever
ever
ever looking outward.

Feeling inward
feeling love when
anything
is felt because that
that
that
that is how
to live.

Cold coffee
and lost mornings
but
not really
lost.

Misplaced,
barrowed and
to be
returned
one day
with
love.

Standing on the yellow line
toes over the edge
watch the gap, watch for the 2:11 local.

A small Asian man
reading a Chinese language
newspaper on
my left.

Feeling the smell of her
the taste
in my mouth.

Hands pushed far
down
into pockets
away from the cold
away from…

She looked at me
an extra second
a blink goodbye
waiting for the 2:11 local
now
she is gone, still
inside…

I close my eyes
against harsh
subway lights and
back away
from
the yellow line.

Hope is the sound of rain on the roof in the spring, plinking…green and yellow
flowers growing wild without restraint or knowledge of
where, who, how they’re supposed to be… 

…living. 

Happiness is the distance between your feet and the ground when finally
you let go of what is holding you so tight, so close, so firmly
planted with your fears and pain and lost… 

…dreams. 

Satisfaction is what should be inside when you awake in the morning;
it needs no event or happening in order to rise, to be ,
to manifest within you and become… 

…reality. 

Love is around us, within us and who we are behind these fleshy masks
and shadows we call living and what we call ourselves when
we have no words for our… 

…souls. 

Contentment is nothing else but the complete absence of pressure, of
a life that you neither wanted or planned for but so completely
have and have…pushed away…let go…un-tethered 

and watched drift into nothing
so that the life you live
is the life you have
that you want,
and
is you.

I want to learn to
feel the inner parts of
the universe, feel
the ends, the edges,
the wide open, full-throttle
speeding toward infinity
bigness
of it all.

I want, no… I need to
ride
the solar winds,
feel
the pull of stars;
the absence of
everything.

My soul yearns for
freedom and blackness,
light
and dark,
the directionless
of pure
emptiness.

I want to fall
upward
into the beginning
of
everything…
and feel the
heavy touch
of
nothing.

I need the
knowledge found
the
ideas hidden…
the life stream
uncovered and
laid
bare.

In a vision had in the early morning hours from restless eyes staring out a window
drapes opened wide; out onto a dark world filled with silence, fear and pressure
I saw all the things that have caused me to be afraid, hesitant; looking up from below
now finally having the courage to confront, to look honestly and with all due measure

I saw me
simple, complete; alone

The universe was contained within the palm of my hand yet so big I could never imagine
the internal envelope that held all who I was and all I could have ever hoped to be
my mind raced and stretched; running to the far corners of knowing and understanding
my thoughts were but small bits of driftwood, pushed across the surface of an endless sea

I saw me
contained or opened; alone

The past stretched behind me; a highway across the desert with millions of turn-offs and side streets
I saw they all pointed toward me, past me and into the future where I knew I would be walking freely
I couldn’t help think that I was made of the roads, alleys and dark streets that I had walked upon
but I knew I was not, it was where I traveled only; they never had the power to create or influence me

I saw me
let go, held up; alone.

In a vision had in the early morning hours; I saw who I was, who I wasn’t, could be and never could
but did not see it all, could not see the edges where the light trailed off into mirrored distances
I could not see the complete machine, I thought, only a gear here and there, maybe a few switches
I knew what I was looking at, though, a life made up of more than a few missed chances

I saw me
lie, truth: alone.

What have I become, I thought…as I rolled ever and ever along that pock-marked path toward tomorrow?
Who is this contraption, clunky and mismatched with essential and emotional synthesis yet realized?
Why are the things that existed within my reach so far away from my grasp and specific understanding?
When will I have finished the journey or is that vicious trip especially made to only ever to be tried?

I saw me
questions, answers; alone.

Now I will soon sway toward reality thinking it is what it will always be…without mine or anyone’s’ help
a ship plying endless seas toward a horizon that connects into itself around and around
and the vision slowly fades into an encompassing grey that is warm and soft and close to breath
I open my eyes past the fantasy, past the insincere and past the many roadblocks I have found

I see the universe and I together
alone together
I feel good.

She
let the words
fall from her mouth
one at a time,
spinning
downward,
slow
motion,
they landed
on my
soul.
Barely felt,
still:
they
destroyed me
and…
I let them.
Nothing changed
in the
world around me,
all was
the same but…
I was
different.
She let the
words fall
and
I watched
as they
spun.
I let
them fall…
for
some words,
(broken, splintered,
sharp and edgy)
are
better
than
no words.

Aloneness isn’t alone…it has the command to
create, to empower, to build up what was once
broken and unable to stand on its own.

Aloneness, with and within ourselves, may be the
most difficult, the highest order of patience required,
the coldest place we can ever really know…well.

The absence of external pressure is not designed
a reason or motivation toward aloneness, it just simply
is
the residue of making complicated decisions.

Retreating (some say it like that), retreating causes us
to move forward toward intimacy, toward
understanding and acceptance of who we are & could
be.

Don’t call it retreating, call it believing in the
perfect truth
the perfection that rests inside and shows edges and
areas
small bits when we look long and hard…honestly; with
reality.

To understand who “they” are, the world, the universe
starts with understanding one person among billions
from the inside out, from here to there, from the beginning.

Movement toward the present moment, this single instance
of where we live, love and can be happy/sad,
excited/bored; everything real
may look like standing still…like anti-movement.

The movement of our thoughts can’t be seen, can’t be
measured
instruments outside of our own shadow are useless, it is
control and that is how it is supposed to be…it is our reality.

Aloneness is not loneliness
it is power and foresight
and the path to love.