I am lulled into a cadence of history
that is slowly crescendoing in my veins,
and seeping out of my fingers onto buttons
into blue electric waves,
kept away in the folds
of metalic grooves,
that sits within a frame
of an already progressing
crescendo.

To hope and to know
there is nothing within
that hope but to be led
to a greater Hope, and
rest easy in that...

We are incredibly
broken people,
wheeling through black space
in fragmented pieces
as the Son glimmers off
shiny, dull, sharp, and blunted
ends that mingle at times in this
course through the comsos

a toast

here is to the moment
I don't understand
the string of statements
you've put forth
in our conversations

and here is to the channel
that sometimes serves
as barrier to our
written moments

I won't tell you this -
this motion you create
in my day, like wind
whipping wide a slightly
opened door, like a strain
of melody coming through
the cracks of somewhere
and slips in to wind
around the self.

I won't tell you this -
this ruckus you make
as you mentally storm
through my mind
turn over points of view,
establish your presence
with a bantering self,
and cause chaos
equivalent to
an earthquake.

I won't tell you this -
but, you make my day.

I'm in love with you;
with the fluidity
of yourself and the
way you translate me
just right, present me
in the best light;
keep turning the words
right out of me

poetry, my muse.

I'm falling like
rain on a drenching
thunderous day
when the sky is plugged
up with swirling grey

we play unintentional games
of hide and seek; hiding our
hearts in wide open spaces
putting them in corners of
unknown places;

you will not weave in
the string cords of this heart
nor captivate each heart beat
with your thoughts, emotions
or quick seamless replies