howeye1thewritetoothink

words words words ****************** time taught me how to see every second as heaven even though they're perfectly disguised as hell And I refuse to let past bruises cover the light it ain't all good, but it's all good enough, so I know I'm alright

[open-endedfriend]

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique

Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see

And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be

A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be

I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

What's my name, what's my station? Oh, just tell me what I should do

I don't need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you

Or bow down and be grateful and say, "Sure, take all that you see"

To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don't, I don't know who to believe

I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see

Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak

Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself

What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

And I know, I know you will keep me on the shelf

I'll come back to you someday soon myself

If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm raw

If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm sore

And you would wait tables and soon run the store

Gold hair in the sunlight, my light in the dawn

If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm sore

If I had an orchard, I'd work 'til I'm sore

Someday I'll be like the man on the screen

[open-endedfriend]

This is homesickness...

Slept through my alarm, woke from a nightmare and it's hard to tell the difference

Just hollow acts to follow, scratch tomorrow off the wishlist

And stand tall and proud while the welcome mat is slipping

This is the land of "How's your day?" "None of your business"

Where that faint glimmer of hope only comes when you blink and miss it

Instant sob story, tell 'em today was a tearjerker

And a million hands are reaching out saying they know it hurts, but...

Cry me a river and I'll piss you a puddle

Cause either I don't give a fuck or my compassion's too subtle

I'm past the fool's trouble of weeping cause you struggle

Where I walk everyone got a shiny pin to burst bubbles

And the others are muzzled with silver spoons

Never gotta see the sidewalks crack to form tombs

Street light filaments pop trying to cover up the wounds

From that lucky shot in the dark that shook a whole platoon

I stomp through clutching a grudge in my hand

Throw caution to the wind where my friend used to stand

And the corner characters are all the same

Used to be handing em trust with every single pound I gave

Now I'm slapping 'em disgust and ain't returning their gaze

So stop trying to find a friend hiding underneath the daze

New page, old book, scarred face, don't look

There's a place reserved for everyone where the bodies are put

The meaning of life is just too long to stand through

Where doorbells play the music that the dead dance to

Homesickness -

This is the place that I used to call home

Homesick -

It's just another backyard warzone

Home -

And you could stand right in the middle alone

Cause everybody knows there's just no place like home

Home is where the heart is

That's a coffee cup and a subway token for the heartless

Coughing up his life and choking down your garbage

With a prime seat to watch gold paved streets tarnish

While the paint leaks on 'em and drips down through the cracks

Where the trains reap harvests of dreams fell to the tracks

Some seek that light at the end of the tunnel 'til they fall flat

But weather never follows Little Orphan Annie's forecast

There's veterans with bottles on the corner selling war masks

Sun ain't coming out tomorrow so we follow storms, half steppin'

Ten bucks for them neatly packaged weapons

And then creep into a staircase with a cheap bootleg of heaven

Where every scar is proof you'll never learn your lesson

Who's next is the burning question

Use your head at your discretion

Cause there are no good intentions

And no one cares what you think

Floating along on a cloud while everyone's hoping you sink

Froze in a blink, sucking a picket fence dream

Wake up on receiving ends of disappearing machines

You'll tear at the seams

The Garden of Eden reduced to short stumps

Where life's rough so cats carry clips full of shortcuts

And they're eager to show you the end

Bit the hand that feeds so many times there's nothing left to extend

Just hope those blinking lights don't mark the final breaths of a friend

Keep walking 'til you find a warm hole in the wall to rest your head

Stuck in a box cold sweating

Stare out the window where the demons run free and let it all set in

Aftermath of Pandora, Hellraiser wedding

And you're forced to sleep on the dirty honeymoon bedding

Homesickness -

Today's lesson is duck and run

Homesick -

And leave the light on for something that never comes

Home -

Look happy or you'll ruin all the fun

Throw your hands in the air if you know that you're scum

Every other second's a deep breath before the bad news

And the wreckage of each step's too much to get through

Speak for yourself or somebody less important

Or you'll find out hubris makes a great lining for coffins

Cemetery street where the madmen walk clumsy

With crooked smirks bearing their teeth, worn ugly

Just trying to make that smiley face stick where the lips split

And ending up with 'em stitched closed, homesickness

Homesickness

[open-endedfriend]

It's not the long flowing dress that you're in

Or the light coming off of your skin

The fragile heart you protected for so long

Or the mercy in your sense of right and wrong

It's not your hands, searching slow in the dark

Or your nails leaving love's watermark

It's not the way you talk me off the roof

Your questions like directions to the truth

It's knowing that this can't go on forever

Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone

Maybe we'll get forty years together

But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone

If we were vampires and death was a joke

We'd go out on the sidewalk and smoke

And laugh at all the lovers and their plans

I wouldn't feel the need to hold your hand

Maybe time running out is a gift

I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift

And give you every second I can find

And hope it isn't me who's left behind

It's knowing that this can't go on forever

Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone

Maybe we'll get forty years together

But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone

It's knowing that this can't go on forever

Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone

Maybe we'll get forty years together

But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone

[open-endedfriend]

I should paint a eye on the front door

I should tell time by the sun more

I want a flaming arrow shot into a creeping raft

I'm kidding, I just want the cheapest shit you people have

It's no thing

I should hang a skull on the side door

I should drink water from the sky more

I want a thousand lanterns drifting on a summer's wind

I'm only joking, y'all can feed me to the fucking pigs

It's no thing

I should nail boards to the back door

I should feed squirrels from my hand more

I wanna meet the maker in a proper suit and shoes

I'm lying, let him find the body with the loot removed

It's no thing

[open-endedfriend]

It always seemed he was punching the flowers

Ruminating like a fatalist for hours

With a voice like the sound of slamming doors

In a voice like the sound of slamming doors

It always seemed he was punching the flowers

Taking for granted the sweetness til it soured

And when he spoke it was the sound of slamming doors

All she heard was the sound of slamming doors

Words were sharpened like axes

And he swung them blindly around

With no regard for the dangers

And slashed her to the ground

And I’m not sure which is worse;

If God laughs or he doesn’t

And I’m not sure which is worse;

If it was love or it wasn’t

If it was love or it wasn’t

[open-endedfriend]

"to the world we dream about, and the one we live in now"

[open-endedfriend]

"I've never seen the water so high in my poison life

Social conduct, twenty pace, about face, self destruct

I know the key locations, sharp enough to catch those subtle signs cause

Well, this here alley cat's been around the block a couple of times

Lifting every tin can, sifting every mess;

One man's trash, you know the rest, live it

Pitching a battered platform out of mass hysterics perished in the blizzard

When it's finished I plan to sit and observe the twister pivot

Sleep and sleep well; sleep with a sacred array of fevers

Wake as a pertinent version of a pipe dreamer

Y'all can find me if you lookin for a friend

I'll be the only iron-clad oracle in a city of tin

It's like that

I was born where crooked demeanor seemed to spawn merit

I was born where all the king's men couldn't mend a broken spirit

I was born where it don't matter if you stand, sit, or fall

To live and die as a brick brick brick in the wall

And I'm a brick brick brick brick brick in the wall

And I'm a brick brick brick brick brick in the wall

And I'm a brick brick brick brick brick in the wall

And I'm a brick in the wall, drop in the bucket, yes y'all"

[open-endedfriend]

Sweet well and sleep dreams

[open-endedfriend]

I lost your love today

In a lonely summer breeze

I was dreaming all my dreams

I'm still my own worst enemy

And I can tell it's hardly starting

But I don't wanna pull my hand

And I don't wanna fold it in

Though I can feel your smile departing

And I know it's only cards

But love, I feel your heart in spades

While you were dancing in the club

I gave my diamonds all away

[open-endedfriend]

[leonardospoetry]

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

Mary Oliver

[open-endedfriend]

"Hermann wants to eat nicotine sometimes. He asks

for a lot. He paces space to make himself nervous

because some people are better at surviving than

living. If you wanna get heavy he'll teach you. He

knows it. Spends his time falling from the weight.

Got a lead brain. It's a battle magnet. He carries it

around by the guilt straps. Don't laugh. You didn’t

see the size of the blizzard that birthed him. Fits

of snow. Cotton rocks. Whipped white bullet stretches

pinned with chips of teeth to his habit of crying for help.

He doesn't land well. Hates landing. It reminds him of not

living up.

Listen.

I know there were days you wanted to die.

Days you misplaced all the right words then waited

to make sense once everyone here stopped watching.

Nights you let them beat up your body in bed

because redemption was still alive in you howling.

Uncompromising.

Gathering strength.

Happiness

is too far to fall.

Felt like ecstasy

when they pounded it out of you.

Those days of dead weather high strung out together

and spoke for you.

You told everyone here it was a good life,

smiled and waved back into the wails of your wind fight,

into the parts of the past that haunt you,

all the days you weren’t being yourself.

It’s why most of the past

still haunts you,

Milk Worder,

Mr. Self Murder.

Hiding is not an option for people

so good at showing up. You show up.

It is okay that you showed up missing.

We’ve all abused ourselves

then looked over

the wrong shoulder about it.

Call it Fatherlock.

You were picked like this.

I know you hate the hope.

It’s all the hope that makes you stay.

And you stay so far off the ground.

Hermann will not bow down to gravity. Falling

he catches up to himself midair just before the ground

smacks. Pullthroat, they call’im. Sharp turner. Nothing

touches the ground here. Ground is at capacity.

He sees that. He falls back. He patches parachutes

together with a kite knife. It's big enough to raise him

in the updrafts where he hides himself away in angles

of air outlined by his knack for believing that this life

is gonna work itself out."

-BW

[ohandreagibson]

“Thank Goodness A love poem for Buddy Wakefield At the end of your ten day meditation retreat you got in your car drove thirty peaceful feet and ran over a bird. Splayed its holy guts on the pavement like God finger-painting “Fuck you” across that deep breath you were holding the way your mother held her first born. You, thank goodness were torn from the Bible the day before they burned it for the verse about dancing to tambourines. Once you saw the blood of Christ on a knife carving redwood trees into church pews. Now every Sunday morning you hear glaciers melting and you cry easy as a one night stand never ever is when you see the feathers in your rear-view mirror scattering like prayers searching for a safe place to land. Hold me to my word when I tell you I will leave today, catch a bus ticket west just to stand in the center of your highway blocking traffic ‘til every feather’s answered. I’ve see too many prayers caught in the grills of 18 wheelers and folks like us have shoulder blades that rust in the rain, but they’re still g sharp whenever our spinal chords are tuned to the key of redemption. So go ahead world pick us to make things better. We’ve been building a bridge through the center of this song since Mother Theresa replaced the walls of her church with the weeping cries of Calcutta’s orphaned ghettos. You wanna know what the right wing never got? We never questioned the existence of God. What we questioned is his bulldozer turning Palestine into a gas chamber. What we questioned is the manger in Macy’s and the sweatshops our children call the North Pole. What we question are the sixty swollen lashes on the back of a girl found guilty of the crime of allowing herself to be brutally raped. What we question is the idea of a heaven having gates. Silly. Have you never stood on the end of pier watching the moon live up to her name? Have you never looked in the eyes of a thief and seen his children’s hungry bellies? Some days my heart beats so fast my ribcage sounds like a fucking railroad track and my breath is a train I just can’t catch. So when my friends go filling their lungs with yes. When they’re peeling off their armor and falling like snowflakes on your holy tongue. God collects the feathers. We are thick skin covering nothing, but wish bones. Break in. You’ll find notebooks full of jaw lines we wrote to religion’s clenched fist. Yeah, We bruise easy. But the sound of our bouncing back is a grand canyon full of choir claps. And our five pointed stars have always been open to the answer whatever it is. I know David argued with the chisle. I know he said make me softer When those tourists come looking for a hero I want the rain to puddle in my pores. Build me holy like that. Build me a kite flown out a bedroom window at midnight the day freedom set its curfew to 9:11. My heaven is a snow globe. The blizzard will always be worth the touch of your hand, shaking me awake like a boy taking deep breaths all the way down to the dents in his shins like he’s building a telephone from a string and two tin cans. He knows God’s number by heart. He knows it isn’t listed in any book. Look me in the bull’s eye, in the laws I broke and the promises I didn’t in the batteries I found when the lights went out And the prayers I found when the brakes did too. I got this moment and no idea when it will end. But every second of this life is scripture and to know that trust me, we don’t need to be born again.”

—

[open-endedfriend]

If falling is inevitable, even reasonably necessary, then the most loving wish for anyone is a soft landing

[santa-kurashiki]

Free Air! - Buddy Wakefield.

When I was asked to do this talk, I knew that healing was the /one word/ I did not want to use. It is tricky to do a talk about the way to eradicate suffering without using the word ‘healing’. But y'all, healing is a wounded word. It identifies with the mind to keep coming back for more. Rising from falls we keep taking in vain just for a reason to stand. So I asked my friend, Oliver Clump, “What’s a different word for healing?” And without hesitation, Ollie said, “Staying present.” As I suspected. Y'all I have spent so much of this life eagerly adopting ways to heal all the things I thought were wrong with me when all I ever really needed was a technique like Vipassana… I would have chosen safety every single day over the helplessness of hoping for a miracle. Hope, is not a course of action…

…Cemeteries: That’s just the earth’s way of not letting go. Let go, tonight, especially people who have mistaken passion for a solution.

Lets turn our silly wrists so far backwards that the razor blades in our pencil tips can’t get a good angle, and all that beauty inside: step into this, with your airplane parts, move forward, and repeat after me with your heart, not your mouth:

“I am chin-up, best foot forward, stick my landings, make love to me, like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did, go slow, I’m new to this, but I have seen nearly every city in the world from a rooftop without jumping, I have realized that the moon, it did not have to be full for us to love it, that we, we are NOT tragedies stranded here beneath it, that if my heart really broke, REALLY, every time I fell from love, I’d be able to offer you confetti by now." 

But hearts don’t break, y'all. They bruise and get better, we were never tragedies, we, we were emergencies, so you go ahead- you call 911, and tell 'em I’m having a fantastic time, tell them, tell every last one of them, tell my whole town:

"Yes, you are the center of the universe.”

If you weren’t? You wouldn’t be here…

…

Split water cannot be poured back, don’t look back… enough is enough… quit dwelling, forget it, forgive it, right now, as is.

Nothing is against us.

Our craving for annihilation will be laid to rest, with the apocalyptic resentment and the compounding stress.

Yes, said the answer.

Yes, said the breath.

The consequences are immediate.

So when you breathe, you might try freeing both lungs up.

[open-endedfriend]

Under the ocean

Next to a boiling vent

He's none the wiser

Earth's only resident

It piled up

Man, it was wall to wall

Blink of an eye

And all the problems solved

Let's all go play Nagasaki

We can all get vaporised

Hold my hand, let's turn to ash

I'll see you on the other side

Before the garden

When you were all alone

You made the atom

Was that some inside joke

Open the gates

And then conceal the path

Let's load the gun

And see how long they last

Let's go ring and run the bunkers

Baby won't you come outside?

Across the sea the birds are free

Let's watch them scream across the sky

Let's all go and meet our maker

They don't care whose side you're on

We're so afraid, I prayed and prayed

Before I learned to love the bomb

Let's all go play Nagasaki

What a lovely way to die

The final show where we all go

So no one has to say goodbye

Lets all go and meet our maker

Won't matter whose side you're on

We're so afraid, I prayed and prayed

When God told me to love the bomb

[open-endedfriend]

"Two

A one, two, three, four

You and I both know

There is nothing more to say

Chance has shut her shining eyes

And turned her face away

Leaning on the windowsill

You could write me someday, and I think you will

We could see the sadness as a gift and still

Feel too heavy to hold

Snow fallin'

I try to keep from callin'

Watch the spring turn to winter

Fireflies all frozen

The seasons go so fast

Thinking that this one was gonna last

Maybe the question was too much to ask

Been searching for your eyes

All I see is blue skies

And that old man beats his crooked cane

It's time to let go

Leaning on the windowsill

You could write me someday, and I bet you will

We could see the sadness as a gift and still

The seasons go so fast

Thinking that this one was gonna last

Maybe the question was too much to ask

You and I could see into the same eternity

Every second brimming with a majesty

Oh, kiss so sweet, so fine

You could hear the music inside my mind

And you showed me a place

I'll find even when I'm old

Just leaning on the windowsill

You could write me someday, and I hope you will

We could see the sadness as a gift and still

The seasons go so fast

Thinking that this one was gonna last

Maybe the question was too much to ask"

Seasons go so fast,

Praying please God can this one just last

Maybe the question was too much to ask..