If I look out this window from the corner bakery
in the right way
at the right moment of clouded illumination
it looks as if there is a thin blanket of snow
holding onto that last of the holiday spirit

This is the perfect picture of urban nature
The cars, workers, birds, bakers, stop lights continue moving without
ever noticing this little magical wonderment
Too much has gotta be done in this city, I suppose
but seeing this makes me feel like a kid again,
gives me a jolt of that wonderful awestruck spirit

I think I will stay here…

I am not coming back to life this morning…

af

(written with pen on paper)

I think about what I have done
what I never give myself credit for
just had to get it done
    just a new experience

You won’t get me, don’t comprehend me
sucked into the sipher of society
don’t worry
don’t matter how weird it gets
you never will

I do not exist here anymore

af

(written with pen on paper)

apparently
i am moving

apparently
skipping in existence

apparently
there is a green tea and banana in front of me
but I said no
which is strange

i don’t really feel anything

sore
tired of abuse
this instrument
this sword
morning, at night
times in between

habit
responsibility
the fear of going back
if I decide to face the discipline

i will figure it out

 
af

(choice pickings from a free-write)

we are not all leaders

have we forgotten
that in balance
we must have the
inherently submissive?
men and women
equally?
and that there is
nothing
nothing
nothing
nothing
nothing
wrong with that?

a person will be
and should be
who they want to be

help less
be there more
we are all the parts of the whole

af

(written on computer)

Proud to be different
to have smashed closets
content to be here;
time is coming
time always comes
patience always prevails
as it all keeps on moving.

The night was vibrant
understanding the meaning
shouting from my crush-velvet sofa seat
laughing crazy
I Don’t Give A Fuck
die with me and you can live with me
take the risk if you ask for one

Skipping on soon
I’ll be remembered as a passing scent
that weird dude in the corner
just a little too much energy, stared too much
a faint guitar lick of funk and hurt
rodeo hillbilly urbanite stuck in space
I am, started the sentence…

I am…

af

(written with pen on paper)

Screaming in joyful rage

Running full speed until muscles explode

Taking my hand
plunging it deep into my veins
and creating a masterpiece for the world from
the blood I release

Kissing someone so deeply, trying to climb inside of them

Tearing up for no reason other than not having any
other way to exude my joy

Taking a breath so deep that my ribs crack
feeling all existential energy
holding it in my lungs

Waking poor, homeless, sick, alone, debilitated
and wanting nothing else but to smile and keep pushing forward

Forgiving the condemned
understanding that the spirit of perfection lies just as
strong in those who endlessly condemn me

Dancing in a typhoon
…Hearing music in catastrophe
…Poetry in purgatory

Staring into a pair of eyes
that refuse to look away
and reading all the secrets of the world

af

(written with pen on paper, inspired by my muse)

Do I have something on my face?
They would tell me, right?
I mean, they all are giving me this look
especially that one girl and one guy
there is a kind of smirk to it.
Maybe it is because I have not brushed my teeth yet.
I checked for specks of meat and food
poppy seeds, overnight film
Yellow, but trash-free
I did take a hit of weed before I left the apartment
could they have smelled it still?
were they approving or laughing me off?

I never really talk with them
outside of boring early morning everyman chit chat
They look at me
I smile and imagine everything they think about me
Nice enough guy
    Strange, quiet, a little weird
    What does he do?
    Why only a notebook?
Then I sit in my seat alone away from everyone
for an hour or so
write
and stare off over a medium house w/ soy, two raw sugars

and when those voices that talk in my head get too chaotic
or there become too many of them
that is when I check-out

I pretend I am this handsome man, strong and confident
the women look at me as they pass
I just had to say hello

I pretend I am a healer
and people look into my eyes to feel peace
to know they are capable of healing themselves
and that I have given them some hope and strength to fight for

I pretend I am a brilliant and famous artist
memories and dreams orbiting me
shared with all those who look in me

I laugh a lot when I am alone
it is when I do so the most
but right now
I look up and notice
they all are still looking, dozens of minutes later
and I do not think I will ever know why

af

(written with pen on paper)