Being

I'm on a non stop quest
Commercial free journey to the centerpiece of this perceived reality
And intangible though my rewards are destined to be
I expect those treasures will fill me satisfactorily
Because I know with unflinching certainty
That the crux of spirituality
Is balanced precariously on the precipice of insanity
Guarded by the sirens of passionate creativity and loving universality
That we must joyously embrace
Without remorse or distaste
The grits and juices of this life
That even through the highs and lows
We must remember to savor the flavors
Of
Each
Passing
Moment
Because the admittedly incredible accuracy of looking back
Can't help but naturally lack
The emotional poignancy
Heartwrenching suffering and glee
The messy and necessary everything worthwhile it takes
To simply and gloriously
Be

In today's sparkly daydream
I am decorating an urban hot spot penthouse
For two
Where you keep coming home to me
And I to you
And in this particular sweet technicolour brain tease
I feel the full force of inertia
The fierce fire of optimism ablaze
These simple lazy smiles giving meaning to my days
Adequate monuments to the joys of my spent time
Testaments in themselves to the moments I have breathed

Summer sunset angel
The sky smells of miracles and blessings
For the mornings I hope will never grow into productive days
So that I may instead stay
Bare and languid and touching you

I woke up in the middle of last night
(This morning really
But so impertinent a distinction
And so hard to judge)
Thinking I was willfully standing in front of a speeding bullet train
Or on a serene and stunning moonwalk
But only daydreaming my air supply
And though my mind was spinning and yelling and warning and withdrawing
I didn't feel it
And my usually tricky itchy trigger gut feeling
Was lying back chillaxing and basking
In the brief bliss of sweet touches and soft smiles
And though I have devised some doozies in my day
This does not feel like delusion

Ice Cream Run

Crisp midnight grocery aisles
Faith wanders through
Unrecognized though melodious
Purifying the tired tiles
Shuffling through the ghosts
Inspiration hides among the glossy boxes
Bulging produce
And carcasses slowly rotting

E-LIT-IST

I have in my acquaintance
A well meaning wannabe wordsmith
A stunted social misfit clinging to the convenient cover of artist's clothing
Not a person in possession of prophetic poetry
Rather a purveyor of lame alliterations
Metaphors measly and transparent
Cheap baubles fit to tempt
Only the giggling
Or the drunk
And speaking of transparency
I do stand firm in my glass home
Humble
Whole
And though soulfully moved by the sounds of syllables
I can't shake from my mind the meaning behind the design of my lines
The indescribable intangibles that we find in this life to be unfortunately inarticulable
I never set out to construct literarily impaired cardboard cutout catchphrases
Hooks lines but mostly sinkers
Out to snag booty and praises
So grasshopper
Prose poser
It's time for you to regroup your motivations
Drop your cheap facsimile of awe and fascination
And if you truly feel that this artistry is part and parcel with your destiny
Hone your skills and style
Skip the smile
Because imperfect and in progress though I may be
You lack the heart and imagery
To shoot this ink with me

In today's fantasy
I am in possession of an array of never ending lattes
And there is this same sun
But as seen through the chlorinated surf
And in today's fantasy
I am loved
And in love
Smiling with a perfect tan
My legs lovely and freshly smooth