of orange marshmallows in the sky,

of tickling pinpricks of drizzle, with the summer ground and few fallen rotting leaves

giving us the smells of coming Autumn– thick and sweet with dew

and distantly crisp.

It’s another thoughtful-feeling night

of really just feelings, of trying to find with inward eyes, that which ever eludes me.

A place for Atman or Him himself– a path of Chi,

of solace inside my tumbling mind.

gbf

Those are ones whose beautiful talk

opens our minds

as we explore them with new perspectives,

who are just too displaced to maintain

such bonds made rarely,

to whom I could never give all the Love

that we’ve made.

They’re the friends both closest and stunted

and cut so short

just at the moments I can hear their minds.

They’re the truest loves

whose adoration I must yet assume,

as we are too far to work it out

because we can’t look at the eyes,

where we’d find all the time we need

to say what’s on our minds.

gbf

you’re dancing wisps of vapor which I can’t touch

you’re only in my head

where your liquid hair feels like the breeze

from a butterfly’s wings,

you’re dreams that leave my memory at awakening

you’re a tumbling thought

that with patience is always filling in the spaces

where you should be.

gbf

“mother earth is dying and we continue to fuck her to death. play with your own squish… the future is in your hands… no, the future is in your hand.”