currently

you sleep
finally
your body longer than the space you occupy
playing hookey from slumber
watching blue light fill the room
you talk yours
i talk mine
gotta get a bunny for your bathroom
a fan in the living room
swallow each other's time line
trade hearts
a new page, new words
chapter endings, cliffhangers
and new stories to begin

it sure was quite the rainy day
masked by clear skies and moonlit couches
my toes dancing upon your perfect sofa
my stuff strewn across your apartment
a visitor during a drizzle
borrowing space
like the space beside you
your limbs hang off the bottom
you're taking back sleep
right. now.
good for you

you're taking it all back
sweet
i got to witness some of the first moments
the first few sentences of your newest masterpiece

the beautiful thing about keeping a journal

document.
right now.
"i said that it's important to write things down, um
basically i said that there are a million awesome things that you forget...
oh sheeshesh, do you remember the essence of what i said?"
(cont) "doomed."

monumental. moment.

be great tonight

oh sweet slumber that never comes
let's be jolly even when our mates are asleep
let's draw pictures of the fortunate ones
let loud smiles be for tomorrow's keep

don't you know sweet slumber, you tease
it is not i, but you who will suffer defeat
for i live in the land of the infinite free
to paint my desired reality, i needn't a dream

you are a thief behind my lids
you forge my virtue in your land of make-believe
blaming me for a sub conscience slid
eyes open, no sleep, as far as the eye can see
oh sweet slumber, despite you,
look how far these dreams can reach

i thought not.

normalcy.
how do you decipher between hearing in mono and stereo
you would block off sound right?
maybe with your hand or even turn off a speaker on one side
for me, mono is all i know
my lack of an ear has always made me have to listen that much more
that much more closely
to the timber in someone's voice
sometimes even hearing their words in syncopation with their heartbeat bouncing off their tongue
like hearing them say "i'm all good" as their dignity sweats down their own throat to their gut
dropping them to their knees inside, but outside they stand so tall
and outside, all i can do is give them a hug
and that to me
is normal

speed.
how do you measure the speed in which a child becomes beyond joyed when he gets that exact baseball bat he wanted
or how quick the delicate, lonely heavy silence is broken
by music that stimulates a soul for a lifetime, that promises to never abandon you ever
how long does it take for you to realize those chips on your shoulder are only chips because you believe they are
and that at any point, you can reach over, grab them, make them any flavor you want, and eat them
and they would seize to exist
can you weigh the empty of a bleak future at the mercy of circumstance for all the bad decisions of the world
or compute how many chicken noodle soups and grilled cheese sandwiches it's going to take to heal
what incremental form can quantify the momentum of love
the burst of love's fierceness
the explosion of love's spontaneous

somethings we can't capture or define
like a flood
a natural disaster
all we can do
if we are so lucky
is to show up
and hope there is something to listen to
pray that joy from that kid and his new bat rubs off on you
dance when the music plays
savor the crunch and taste of each and every chip
slurp the soup and pound down the grilled cheese
get so full till even them bad decisions have no choice but to believe

i personally know not the speed of inspiration
i just know that when it comes
i hope it chooses me to be one of the fortunate one's

flooded

dripping words onto blank documents
finding truth in letters
exercising the imagination
using real life as the inception
then walking through scenes like dreams
cultivating an outline for a story i plot
yet discover it at the same time
simultaneously
tremendously
dialogue pulses through my wrists
by way of my heart
my fingers are no match
the letters are much too rapid to catch
so i take what i can get in an outline
not quite 20 pages but tokens of a lifetime
condensed in fragmented snippets
i am the architect of these weathered trinkets
that are soon to be a story
and like all good ones, goes a bit sour
bruised and beaten
a story about a family
about an individual within a family
finding the boundary free limits of one's own perimeters
a story about what it means to be an american dreamer
overcoming
and having to overcome again
inevitably
i hope to fill this document
so i may share with the audience
a man
finding his way home
by way of his own worth
not that of his brother, nor his mother
or even his sister who tells the tale
but of his own merit
only to find
he is, he exists, he lives
because of the people in it

... time in our schedules

dictatorship, no good
sitting under night clouds in the neighborhood?
doesn't get much better
swapping words finding out you matter

... added rice to your protein

and you and i, we be monday night breaths on top of concrete
between the night sky wanting to get closer to green
cause even the street lamp is listening in
trying to steal a little of our oxygen
so mondays be yours
mondays be mine
coexist in a moment
to watch each other shine