i am aware

that true existence

is still a question

and truth

when you get right down to it

is reality’s shadow

in the night. 

what can be more real

than my pen?

they might ask.

only everything that moves it.

only everything it takes

to move us.

my every mistake follows me to bed

and i lay down my head

greeting each and every one

as they float by.

they know me so they smile and wave,

i am happy to wave back

as my eye lids lower themselves

like a curtain drawing a close

to today’s show

or a garage door 

grinding shut on another day.

i hang my key on the hook by the door

so i can start again tomorrow.

finality within the days

within the years

standing, legs set apart

barring the threshold 

to every minute.

with every moment measured

we draw up an even end

and leave uncertain chance

for a beginning.

figures in history

chanting the lines

there’s a chorus 

to handle the narration 

when the scene demands

gods of the rivers

who come out

to intimidate the travelers 

who are consumed by the sense of it

an interesting irony is waiting for me

within the deep snow of our paranoia,

a blizzard of darkness filling my footprints.

a moment of silence

the fog of breath

and only those fleeting footfalls 

follow me into the night.

it was just a dream;

four or five seconds

harboring an eternity.

and what makes that dream

more real than this reality

is how much i

believe.

with a head full of nature’s whispers 

and my own heavy autumn heart

i watch a blood-shot sky’s sun set

waiting for winter’s storms to start

-

a soft cold crunch underfoot 

and many foreign mountains in mind

i lay myself down in the yard

to sink within the grass that’s dying 

-

my thoughts travel by continent, 

they travel in an instant through time;

as i imagine your frozen warzone,

our home is on your mind.

i’ll leave you a pen

when i go

i’ll leave it sitting,

silently waiting

for something

to grow

i’ll leave it laying,

sleeping

above a sea of blank pages,

an ocean of creamy paper

it will be there

waiting for you to set sail,

across its pages

depart from one cover

on an adventure to the other

i will leave you a pen

to make the journey

when i go

sitting in a quiet café

i take in the scene of a furniture set

elevated just slightly from the rest of the lobby

its pieces standing just above me

two simple red chairs and a just-as-simple red couch

set around the most basic coffee table

ever fit together,

long, skinny and small, it sits low to the ground

a ‘please do not touch’ sign 

resting crooked in its center

a fold of thick plastic with bold lettering

much like the ‘reserved’ signs

that dot the tabletops in fancy restaurants 

and i can’t help but imagining 

the odd characters of the café’s paintings 

climbing down out of their frames after closing,

taking up their reserved seats around the coffee table

to discuss the bizarre shapes and colors,

the subtle meaning in our painted lives

i have a large map

that lives on the corner of my desk

its tight lines and winding dotted trails

choreograph a place and journey 

i know from start to finish

and finish to start

this map owns its place on my desk

not to guide my feet through mountains

nor as proof of conquest via chart

those winding dotted trails

map out the journey of my heart

i made you an origami butterfly 

out of a dollar bill today

it took me a few hours

to finally get it right

making every crease perfect,

straight and even,

and just when i finished

the very last fold

it shook itself awake

and flew away

the sun and i are enemies.

it is the reminder that a reality exists 

beyond the caste walls of my imagination.

it reminds me there are responsibilities 

other than dreaming,

like the laundry. 

the sun is that person

who constantly reminds me 

of assignments i haven’t started

or that my inspection sticker

is about to expire.

it works in tandem with the alarm

to tear me from my dreams,

to scream at me that they aren’t real.

the hammering in the kitchen 

did not bother me this afternoon

as i spread myself across

the length of my bed for a nap

each loud bang was simply

an exclamation to my exhaustion 

and i nodded off in agreement 

sail with me into the dark

there is nothing there to fear

sail with me into the dark

there is nothing left for us here

—

let our cargo be infinity 

and our path be our own

let the impossible wash over us

and our sense of adventure be our home

—

our pasts be damned!

let us leave the last shades of reality 

hanging in the trees above,

the last rays of an accusatory sun

fading, slipping away into the night

forget patience 

i’ll let my mind wander,

adventure

sail over mountains 

sink to the bottom of the sea

shape clouds in the sky

journey deep into dark caves

and ride along endless rapids

by the time you’re ready

i’ll be somewhere 

you never dreamed of