Dad’s my hero

Pretty sure genetically, I’m 99% my dad 1% mom When I see an angry young man I see my dad and in that, I see myself

35

Few years ago, I had a couple of white hairs Now, there’s a couple more My life is over.

That marbled pathway

Who are we but bright flames that wane? Flesh alive and so here now, but can step away from these frames Far away the evening fragrance lingers Seeping into deeper woods Feeling is like morning weather With windchimes and little bells Rolling misty haze, kissing our feets Atop the marbled pathway Of a holy treasure

Mayday notes

When feeling like digging deep into ground head down Stop all music In a quiet room, lay a different way Body distortion, body contortion Breathe, from tummy Earth yourself

Baked skin and olive green

Soak it all in, and trap it Before the sun disappears for the next six months in this desperate place

“An ocean running inside

can’t fight it much longer”  

It’s a hard thing

I could be doing ten billion different things in ten billion different places, but here I am, trying to enjoy the most out of what I have up here It’s a hard thing to do

Divine love

The type of love without a reward Nor consequence

Always lean towards the self

There’s ideas And there’s self Always lean towards the self

Vulnerabilities

This is how I look at my worst, and I could show you how I look at my best But for some reason I want to stop right here, Because I want you to only love me at my worst Because it feels the most real

If it were up to me

If it were up to me, I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t smile. I wouldn’t talk much. I’d be sitting by the beach all day, writing, quenching thirst with juice in the other hand. Bare skinned and in a swimsuit, lounging and dipping into the smelting hot golden sand. Letting my skin bake into the brownest

Diffuse apart with you

Yearning Is a wish to be free There’s a lot of pain, and you slowly die in the process It’s as if you no longer have control over yourself And all your molecules; all the pieces of love that make you diffuse into the ground, as you sink in I can’t gather you, wrap my

Last one at the end of the circle

It’s another season, and the planets have run down that same old circle. You’ve packed your bags and moved up to another mess, and me, it’s come down to me kneeling on the ground gasping for air, unable to breathe, dying. This is me. The one who’s supposed to get it. But what do I

What’s worse?

I wouldn’t mind everyday

I wouldn’t mind if every day I had to get up to do work; which would be to rehearse some type of classical instrument with others in a sort of musical ensemble.

End of blossom season

Catch me at the end of my blossom season. I’m still young, still viable, still lovable, take me Completely Before I turn too shrewd, too dry, to dust

I’m not boring…

It’s not that I’m boring, it’s just that whatever u’r $aying doesn’t interest me & that whatever I say doesn’t intere$t u

Percussion ambitions

Tabla fusion ish 2016/09/01

Smile uncontrollably

Smile uncontrollably, wherever you may wander, whatever becomes. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you’ve got loving memories. Smile uncontrollably, whatever may happen, however strange things get, you’ve got sweet music to guide you, and the road ahead. .