my adventure

begins with a long road

i picture myself lifted up floating

i know i can do this now!

and my vision pierces through light and dark

like an arrow that doesn’t land

there is no end


pay attention

to the way in which

despite the cuts from endless sources

the emerging growth

an interruption of thought

glimmers softly along your walk

please pay close attention

to be written

whistle on the tracks

high pitched hum

the shake and sway

while my fingers catch letters 

words fly forward like a typewriter punching keys

the page is not as empty as it once was

the music continues 

streaming endlessly 

a beat linked together like the words 

they combine together

form a picture with no picture

form sounds when all is quiet

form a memory etched 

as if in stone

from the steady movement

the thoughts that try to slow down to match pace with the body

the body does what it can to collect it all

turn and translate

offer and experiment 

and the mind gives it a nod

the poetry ushered in

shaped from nothing

yet shaped before it began

to be written

to be released into the world of strangeness

to be given meaning 

and interpreted

twisted over

folding over into itself

until the thing is not a thing any longer

need desire wish to communicate

transcend beyond

into understanding 

ah ha moment of connective tissue

fibers of various lengths binding together 


i see now your implication 

your persuasion, poem

in the spritely joining

perfect combination of alphabet

of ideas

into one piece

that is suddenly gone

the many little things of today

went a new way today

discovered a surreal plant

discovered how one street was connected to another

did many small things

that i hope will have an impact

felt better when i left 

than i did as i entered

taking a deep breath

here we go

found ways to help those around me

found little things i could do to protect them from stress

i am grateful for that

it makes me see myself differently

and remember who i am 

all night 


room full of magenta purple 

bright light pans every corner

tiny moving reflections circle the room

expanding into points warped by their orbits

and 90s house beat

vibrating basslines that carry us across

warm mid levels

with synthetic piano 

dancing shadows move in a small room



each one alone even in the of warmth of togetherness 

while the beat goes on

singer calls over the anthem something we can all relate to

but the joy is personal 

we hold it in

don’t express it except through

constant movement 

as the music builds

beat gets thick

basslines so heavy that it would be impossible not to move

filling every corner

every cell

every thing

even the floor

the light

imbued with sound 

that becomes the bodies

becomes the space 

becomes each movement

burning strong

the beads rolling down sides of faces 

until eyes begin to realize where they are

music transforms

a gust of air spreads love


and then the people dance not too the music

not just to the music

but the moment of connection 

when eyes are seen

hands are felt

smiles are revealed

morning air

when the sky looks like a thin mist

bright blue mixed with clouds from another world

when music seems to hang on the air

and everything is vibrant, as if truly deeply more real than what reality is

when the chill of the air brings excitement 

dancing to become warm

hands in pockets

running in place

bringing arms in to hug the sides of bodies

hot air coming from mouths and noses

turning to the curling mist visible at the horizon 

chill that touches the back of eyelids eyelashes

when the crispness of morning awakens 

the eyes that look up to see the newness the oldness the solidness the opacity 

and trailing melody drifting into distant mountains 

note book

there is a worn notebook

collection of songs

blueprints frayed at the edges

from hours, days, years spent underneath the machine

tinkering with word placement

the edges frayed

the paper sometimes coffee stained

the ink runs where liquid hit the page

these songs, while just created,

are ancient


yes, this notebook is a series that indicates creative process 

and sometimes stagnation 

and sometimes fear and anger and resentment 

this notebook is a record

an indicator of potential progress 

when looked at linearly

even with the dips and valleys

the scribbles and the words not meant crossed out

you will find pages torn from the spine to give a note to someone else

this notebook has one half of the beginning somewhere in the middle of the body

somewhere between two different songs

while the end is the first thing written

it takes a while to rework it in order

we will get there

the pages crackle when i turn them

the words themselves sing

and when they are spoken outloud 

it is like an incantation

a prayer

secret walk

i have a secret walk that is not so secret

it has no special door or key or access code

it does not require a fee

in some ways, it may be circuitous 

maybe it seems not very direct 

to those who know that i take it to get to a particular destination 

it’s not the destination that is the point

i take it for the greenery

i take it for the quiet

for the air

for the lack of traffic horns and constant chatter

i take it for the succulents i see

because there’s a bridge

and a set of round planters

i take it to hear wind rustle

the destination is just a guide so i get other things done

each day i see something new

and so the journey constantly changes

so i am filled with wonder and gratitude that i got to take that walk

and can’t wait to share it with others

go-to song

my go-to song on play

volume up

don’t care how often i play it

because it’s never enough

song will always go

and i have no favorite part

because it is all my favorite 

i listen and i am whole again

there is no other music

song makes me look to the heavens

question my sanity

my sobriety 

my reality

until i realize that none of that matters

because song is what it is

i hear a new lyric every time i listen

even though i know it

by heart

i can anticipate its groove 

and enjoy where it takes me

look around to the world that isn’t so bad 


even when it can be pretty bad


i remember this when i have nothing

which is always

we always have nothing 

but you can enjoy a moment every now and again

that is an element that is in this song

as everything is

and the timbre of the music swirls around

until there is no escape from what music brings

song is a different world 

that i can’t begin to comprehend 

making magic 

standing underneath a streetlight

dim artificial glow

rain falls around like glitter

and when the light hits right you are floating within stardust


like a warm blanket 

hugs the sidewalk

barely seen tree outlines lean in close

and whisper good ideas to enact later

i write them down

i go (to myself)

oh that will be good

and i save it

i remember it

so that when it comes to transformation time

i can make magic

and wonder

appear on the page