Where I Am


Sometimes when I wake up,

I don't know where I am.

I don't know where I'm going, where I've gone,

or where I've been.

Yet I am in the same place

that I was when I began to dream,

after going back to sleep

while thinking on what I have seen.

In this moment, undisturbed in space and time,

I try to orient myself against the world.

But I can't tell what's close, what I can reach,

and what is farther,

What’s someone else's, what’s no one's

or what's mine.

Then I wake, the world it hits me,

it’s future virtues, present vices and past sins.

I'm back where I belong, the ocean.

Will I sink today, or will I swim?

On The Topic Of Love

Love is a curious emotion,
applied indiscriminately in discrimination;
able to be both temporary
and durable,
intimately fitting the needs of the moment.

Love can't come from silence.
it needs a creator,
desires a mentor,
and longs for the company of a friend.
But like a an orphan,
it too will live without parents,
Struggling to find itself
through ambivalence.


Pulsing needle
pierce my skin,
go ahead and scratch me till I bleed.
Scratch the surface,
scratch me deep,
and put the color where it needs to be.
Make it count and make it last,
don’t let me fade,
don’t let me fade.
Your color
is all I have
when I stand naked against the world.

We are perfect

I have the unfortunate talent
of seeing the worst in people,
the truth.
A moment of weakness reveals it,
a lapse in judgement let's loose
the genuine side,
as the victim gives in
and loses the chains of conscious confinement.
that trust depends on relevance
truth is driven by desire,
hope steers ambition,
which drives the brave
but wearies the enlightened.
We are perfect,
until we become victims of consciousness.