Love.

I fall in love with people who run - to each other, away from something, on the way to somewhere, for cover or exercise - it's always unique.

I fall in love with irrational stubbornness.

I fall in love with people and their disasters and uncertainty and chances (missed, taken and last).

I fall in love with people who are nervous and stumble over their words.

I fall in love with the look on people's faces when they finally find what they are looking for.

I fall in love at every crash and fall of a pretense.

I fall in love with people who are stripped down and realize they are okay with it. Because you've been talking/ kissing/ hugging/ touching/ connecting/ too busy to remember you're intimidated by the body next to you and the expectation of your own. I love stripping down of this nature.

I fall in love with your first smile in the morning.

I fall in love with people who are a mess and own it - because there are worse things than that.

I fall in love with people that try. To paint, draw, write, tell jokes, share music, to rise above, to explore their surroundings - we are all here doing the same damn thing. I fall in love with them and wonder if they feel the same way about me.

I fall in love with people every day.

Catch Up

I am your greatest challenge
accept it or give up
match my zest for life
make my jaw drop for once

Hold me by the small
of my back
and validate yourself.

I know you too well
to believe that laugh
or your weekend lies
are real

Hold my face in your hands
and commit
because it's me.

You signed up for a marathon.
Be man enough to finish.

I Salute You

Such a covert patriot.
Only a hero when life catches up.
Purple heart; the one you own is black.
Bless that nation, I no longer will.

Tags

You wear polyester pants -
perfect.
You are polyester pants
charming and fashionable
from yesteryear.
Your synthetic makeup
is no longer in style
but I still hold a penchant for you

Dry clean only?
Forget it.
That's too much of a commitment.

Blank.

Pulsating cursor
on a blank word doc
you're sometimes, always my best friend

Beating pixels
on a brainwave
birth me creative, I beg of you

Inhale, exhale
frustration leaves me oxygenated
but still without material

to entertain you.

The End?
It's the best I've got ...
The End.

Childhood Dreams

I had a dream about my childhood. About waking up before the day was humid to pick blackberries on a bike ride. The Cranberries could have been(and to be quite honest, interestingly enough, they probably were) playing.

Running shorts and jelly sandals. Perfectly hair-sprayed bangs. Scrunchie. Yes, Carrie was right, no New York native would ever wear one. Regardless, this was the uniform for fun in the summertime.

Remember what it was like to look forward to something? "Tomorrow, I'm riding my bike down the trail and putting fruit in my basket". Afterwards, we hung out Lucas style on the underpass/concrete graveyard near the local college. Tagged into oblivion, only druggies hung out there. Is that the first time I saw a recreational needle? Maybe?

All I know is that it was cool. Cool because it was new. I'd discovered the dirty side of my small society, while participating in an all American pastime, eating berries off of bushes and bike riding around my sleepy southwest cul-de-sac. Maybe that is THE all American pastime, juxtaposition of the saint and sinner.

Who needs to make jam when you can pretend you like the smell of cigarettes underneath the freeway? Not me.

Good Things

... are coming soon!