– For Mary Oliver "To love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go." – Mary Oliver. So many hours, under the dark branches in the woods, or in the vastness of the desert … Continue reading Dear Teacher
– For Chris Tousimis Here’s the image: There was a jar of Nutella That’s been sitting around for a long time in the cupboard. — I went ahead and took a spoon full of it. One pauses these days, and wonders; how could this soft & dark, mud like mix be so good, yet sit … Continue reading Springtime In The Small Mammal House
I am laying on my bed, 3 or 4 in the morning and studying the walls, and the ceiling, and my hands, and smelling my eyes, and speaking to my feet. I wish I was laying on the glittering white sands by the Aegean Sea, 87 degrees fahrenheit, and the sea breeze. I reach my … Continue reading Ever Wondered?
For Loren B. When I was younger than today I sat at the edge of the night and plunged myself into the night's dark mouth, and fell for three winters. and then suddenly I came to a halt in the depth of 4000 meters, from a string attached to my waist. I am older … Continue reading For When You Need To Go – It’s OK.
You are beautiful again, time is just before the first fire, I am chopping wood, and we are talking about love. you tell me time is an unfaithful lover, and laugh at my struggle in splitting the wood. I live in a house made out of the redwoods and purple dreams, all my lonely days … Continue reading Where I Live.
Soft rain. One gets lost pondering sometimes When the rain falls Softly on his head And when he has no plans To take shelter. One asks these questions to himself, “When am I going to write my poem about a soft rainfall?” and a voice from insides whispers “now “ -------“now” -----------------“n ---------------------o -------------------------w.” and … Continue reading Soft rain.
Hello! I am writing to inquire about your well-being and your recent encounter with loneliness. You wrote to me recently: "I am looking out of the window and I can see behind the curtain of rain and fog sensitiveness is welling up and eerily long fingers of sorrow are creeping up my neck and pushing … Continue reading Letter To You
No. 19 Cloud Like the music that was never made like the road that was never taken like the cloud that never rained. I live my life feverishly in a desire to remember who … Continue reading No. 19 Cloud
No. 18 Filthy The whole goddamn city is burning its filthy lies to run its machinery and in my eyes there are birds flying over the ocean only to fall and to die starving out of hunger. and there's a man in his castle breaking bones to make a crown out of. Peyman 10.19.17 Washington … Continue reading No. 18 Filthy
No. 17 Graceful For Isabelle No. 1 Everything you do, you do it with that natural style of a flower blossoming or a cat leaping from the table to the … Continue reading No. 17 Graceful