All Along

Puddles across the rippling stream water, sitting by the creek in the gray afternoon. All alone like it's always made sense to be, feeling bad for no exact reason. There's always a hole that never goes away. Will it ever go away? What do I have to do to relax my mind? The thing that feels the best is reading books I read a long time ago. Running also helps to sort things out. I need to read more. But for as long as I can remember, there's always been something that makes me want to go sit in the corner and stare out the window.

You gasped for air on the freezing mountain, your numb fingers stretching toward the dark night sky, with your eyes blurring from the dizziness of oxygen loss and your muscles collapsing into that hazy, almost warm feeling that comes when an exhuasted body is slowly sinking into the insulation of feet of snow. The last time you gasped for air on that freezing mountain, your rattling breath dragged out over the eternal slow distance of several seconds and as the blurriness creeped in from the edges of your eyes, all sound slowly faded away from the world and you heard music. The drifting snow bells of a studio guitar melting over a sleigh spread softly through the air, tinkling through the stillness of the air and filling the emptiness where oxygen should have been. Your lungs slowly breathed in the golden music and it seeped into your bloodstream, providing a tiny spark of warmth against the all encompassing cold. In the haze of your mind, all you could see was a gray fogginess now, and as the snow shut off all sounds of the outside world the music became more clear. Sunk into the snow the ringing guitar chords were bright and clear, and as they dripped across the air, desperately needed chilled water dripped, flowing down into your open aching mouth, coalescing in the front of your mouth like the melting particles of snow when you eat it, sinking along your throat and hydrating your body with water more fresh and purifying than any other water.

As you died there on that mountain in the night, with no way to escape the weakening power of the freezing cold and gasping for air that wasn't there, the natural instincts of a body took over the high strung ambitions of your mind and in that moment you were truly alone. At peace, with no struggle to connect back with the outside world, you let the natural order of things take you over and only in that moment were you truly yourself.

It's like when you blow bubbles through your straw into a chocolate milkshake.

Memory

Dim sunshine in the morning rain
Balls of light, honey embers coalescing into golden warmth
It fills the damp morning through the sheltered gray warmness
With the rain trickling down across summer foreheads in cool glistening beads
And hot buttercream pancakes for breakfast
The morning stays dark through the morning
With lightning streaks of electricity fizzing all around
Brief flashes of yellow light
Shining in pinprick eyes
Illuminating the smiles in the floating rainstorm spray all around
Refreshing water spraying over all around
Like standing next to a warm waterfall splashing against the rocks.
Cascades of memory flow through the rushing current
Washing over the faces like days and years past warm and remembered and brought back to the vision of life.

Roman Courtyard Fountains

Golden flowing honey, sliding through the cracks of the mosaics in the sunny roman courtyard, a crystal fountain of water erupting from the center, bursts of water splashing through the cracks from the center of the earth, giving off a misty spray with the floating shimmering raindrops shining like diamonds in the slanting beams of sunlight, angling through the trees in the forest, which shade the bright noon summer sunlight and muffle the light into golden patches on the moist black mud of the forest floor, patches that sway slightly back and forth as the breeze shifts the leaves in the trees. The ancient trunks of the trees spread out across the earth in winding gripping roots, gnarled knotted wood caked into the mud knowing it belongs there.

The Grass by the Pool

In the morning, we will hear the roaring wind as we whip along the clicking roller coaster tracks, the bright twisting skeleton structures that gleam and burn in the noontime summer sunshine. As we rise toward the sun at the start of the ride, locked in our seats and climbing at an ominously clattering pace, beads of sweat will cluster on our foreheads, the skin baking at heat stroke temperature. When the ride lurches at the crest of the first hill, setting us into the last slow seconds of buildup before the wild stomach lurching dive down to earth, we will be able to feel the anticipation spreading through every single sweaty pore on our bodies and continuing throughout the humming metal of the ride itself. You will be able to feel the agonizing tension that comes when the hairs on your forearms realize you will soon be hurtling down towards earth at hundreds of miles per hour restrained by only a plastic safety harness strapped to your chest.

But right now, here in the evening by the pool, everything moves with the blithe sliding sibilance that accompanies a warm summer afternoon slowly growing to dusk. The cool water refreshes the skin of the small number of swimmers still left outside. There are seven of them.

Seven swimmers who walk barefoot through the grass on land and glide with breathtaking power and ease when in the water. Seven swimmers who have gone through great pain together and know each other almost better than they know themselves.

Seven swimmers who, together, are a team.

HANUKAH TONIGHT!

The dislocated shimmering sheen messing with the rampage of glimmering gleam, along the frozen pathway and the melted sands, turning the wheels of a dollar jean band, tubas and horns along the pathway to the sun, churning and burning with a rage that can't be undone, a beltway along the guitar fretted glam, the synocapted melodies of tattered bedlam, tears streaming in the joyful light, it's Hanukah tonight, rambling sheets and golden memories, harmonized singing voices and the sunshine that comes through the porch door window glass and it's all filled with the dust of the afternoon sunlight......

RACE

I Wanna Race!

Relief

Heaven above, I found the right path!
I looked in your eyes and it all became clear
Rejoicing, relief, it flows like a dream
Everything's right and my world is agleam

Warmth Underwater

In a daze, hot diamond skies
She knows the cloudy summer eyes
All plinks of sound, it's no surprise
Drifting, floating, slow sinking rise
Warm blue world, it's a watery haze
Watercolors of sound in the crystal days
Peaceful mind, she's held by water
With blue eyes closed and she's so fine