tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48208053590773286642024-03-05T14:23:06.797-05:00Gravity is Lovegobs of letters with space between...jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-16993142344559922982014-03-21T10:14:00.003-04:002014-03-21T10:14:58.806-04:00MovedHi, I've moved my writing to <a href="http://gravityislove.com/">gravityislove.com</a><br />
Hope to see you there.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-5879600465109680372014-03-21T10:13:00.002-04:002014-03-21T10:13:30.096-04:00Let golet go of your words<br />
Stand behind your skull<br />
Watch the pilots in your head<br />
Look how busy they are<br />
All those fingers<br />
Pushing buttons<br />
Tapping gauges<br />
If they only knew<br />
Awareness flys<br />
Ego controls<br />
Laugh at yourself<br />
See your chimpanzee<br />
Buckled in the car seat<br />
Clutching a plastic steering wheel<br />
Watching the road with dramatic focus<br />
Reacting to every turn as if he were driving<br />
See his drama and rage<br />
The futility of passing another<br />
Now let him play<br />
It is only a game<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-57914361422598743182014-03-01T20:56:00.000-05:002014-03-01T20:57:23.539-05:00Sand & WaterMy crannies giggle.<br />
You fill in all my places.<br />
Willets jab deeply speaking your name.<br />
Your silky cloak spills again-and-again.<br />
May dolphins tickle you home.<br />
Give me your foamy bubbles.<br />
I am your only shore.<br />
Crash into me.<br />
Under the breeze.<br />
The sun breaches the purple forever.<br />
Your soapy skin riding my fingers.<br />
Your cheeks soaked in my lips.<br />
We are sand and water.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-80509875387006701132013-01-30T14:00:00.001-05:002013-01-30T14:00:34.807-05:00Homestyle CroutonsHe figured he'd go down in history as one of two things. Either he set his sights too high for love or he was a picky, picky bastard. He had no idea which was more accurate. There were times he really wanted an objective referee to rule on the matter but he had trouble getting a definitive answer. As he fell forward through life, he'd found love under rocks, on shelves, in the mirror, in a cage, on a pedestal, naked on a horse, and coiled like a viper. He jumped in at each opportunity. He wore many hats on love's stage. He played the friend, provider, a leech, a confidant, a rendezvous, an excuse, the pawn, a rebound, and a sidewalk. He never had any doubt he'd marry. He hoped he'd have children. And here, across from a pubic library, in a park in the middle of flat city. He sat with perfect posture, alone. <br /><br />Twenty years ago he busked these same streets for coffee and thrills. Behind a hotel he found a box labeled "Homestyle Croutons." He propped it up as a flag to a country. Love in the name of a band. He sang of love to come as much as love that was. He was awful but joy rang from his guitar and people listened to hope twanging from a string. He belted and raged from his throat because he had no sense of objectivity. It was the pure bliss of ignorance back then. <br /><br />Today, he saw the tracks of the past. He remembered he didn't notice the shadows from the future. Here he was today, that same man. Sitting on the bench, vibing on yesterday. jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-46170011196405922042012-02-11T19:43:00.000-05:002013-01-30T13:57:30.680-05:00CosmosI know he we got here. <br />
There "he" was.<br />
All alone in infinity.<br />
Like the fish unaware of the water.<br />
He was submerged in "is". <br />
He longed to know himself.<br />
He had no corners to turn.<br />
No vistas to summit.<br />
No secrets to reveal.<br />
It was awful.<br />
the almighty was bored.<br />
So he couldn't take it anymore.<br />
He turned in on himself and simply exploded.<br />
It was brilliant.<br />
It was marvelous.<br />
It was stellar.<br />
The Big Bang.<br />
Pieces forget the whole.<br />
Time turns to wave.<br />
And space is the ocean.<br />
<br />jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-2301893102438127392011-09-14T08:42:00.000-04:002013-01-31T11:15:31.645-05:00A Better ManCan a better man say no?<br />
Does he empty himself to show affection?<br />
Does he bend at every whim?<br />
Who drives the better man?<br />
<br />
A better man knows his lover.<br />
A better man follows his passion.<br />
A better man plants romance.<br />
A better man is "show", not "tell".<br />
<br />
Deep in the feet stands the better man.<br />
A better man's touch scatters all doubt.<br />
A tip of a finger opens a better man's door.<br />
A better man is who i want to be.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-28417989548016680612011-08-29T21:59:00.005-04:002011-09-12T17:35:57.061-04:00CakeIn the closet, under the stairs, in the fridge, on the shelf, in the drawer, was a shiny wax box. In the box was a cake made of yellow covered with frosting and painted with flowers. Under the frosting was the happiest cake you ever knew. It sang and cooed the prettiest song under it's frosted blanket, deep in its box, tucked in its drawer, high on its shelf, deep in the fridge, behind the cushioned seal door, in the closet, under the stairs. No one knew how happy it was. No one could hear its song.
<br />
<br />Then, one day, someone came into the closet and opened the fridge, slipped open the drawer, pulled out the box from the shelf. They opened the box and pulled out the cake covered in frosting. They stabbed it with candles and set fire to the tips. The candles dripped wax on the frosting while voices sang in joy and the cake was cut. It was split down the middle and columned and rowed. After it's body was chopped and put on plates and carried out to tables under a bright sun. Forks were jabbed into each of its parts. Teeth sunk deep into the yellow flesh that once sang. Tongues rolled and mushed the cake into tiny balls that rolled down the throats and into dark little bellies of boys and girls. Deep in the dark, the yellow cake was happy again and sang a beautiful song.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-61240756093363754252011-08-22T18:58:00.010-04:002013-01-31T11:18:02.558-05:00When love touches meWhen love touches me.
<br />
A butterfly tickles my finger.
<br />
A creek whispers my name.
<br />
A trout winks under a crystal curtain.
<br />
Love fills my cave and I lay drowning.
<br />
My last sorrows gasping for air.
<br />
My old self becomes an empty cicada.
<br />
As my fingers make camp in the valley of your spine.
<br />
Gone are all the hungry coyotes.
<br />
This fire crackles for you and me.
<br />
Sparks blast off into the milky way.
<br />
Love, please don't let me go.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-56513300586275775992011-07-23T19:30:00.011-04:002011-08-16T10:39:47.721-04:00When knees fallWhen knees touch the ground,
<br />the sacred always listen.
<br />Knees never fall in trivia.
<br />Always a page folded from our story.
<br />A high wrinkle in a silky life.
<br />A mountain range worth a peak from heaven.
<br />God watches that moment,
<br />on our knees.
<br />Knees ground when we fail.
<br />They sink as we weep.
<br />They fold when we pray.
<br />They burrow when we give up.
<br />But all is not from the dark.
<br />On our knees we plant a tree.
<br />From our knees we learn to walk.
<br />And on our knees we promise forever.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-940469018495871522010-12-14T19:31:00.008-05:002011-08-03T18:57:47.619-04:00Hands-freeWith my hands free.<br />Words drip from a pen. <br />Letters vowel at the moon. <br />I live between these fingers. <br />Where touch is a circuit.<br />The energy of mood.<br />If i were all thumbs. <br />I'd hitchhike across the sea.<br />Our pinkies swear.<br />Rings engage.<br />Inside a church.<br />Under this steeple.<br />Nestled in the palms.<br />Counting the digits.<br />Ten, the perfect number.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-38457627933226251052010-03-18T19:15:00.037-04:002010-04-01T13:59:26.451-04:00The ParadeAlways the fox reaching for the grape.<br />A box of snapshots from a small town parade.<br />See the smiles perched in the carriage? <br />Under furry blankets, waving at strangers.<br />Let's hitch our wagon to enthusiasm's horse.<br />We don't need a reason to dangle our feet.<br />Smiles from a crowd make a lovely breeze. <br />Here, i give you this perfect grass saber. <br />Squeeze it taunt, between the thumbs, <br />Blow your kiss firmly. <br />The sound zaps storm clouds from miles away. <br />See the eyes of the deep horse watching? <br />He can feel what saddles our mind.<br />Let's think him a tale of love-dipped happy. <br />He'll carry us proudly in this wonderful parade. <br />Up ahead, in the center, a town hall is waiting. <br />Hunkered in time and flanked by worn benches. <br />Giant oaks shake hands and host meetings.<br />Where busy squirrels pass amendments, <br />and birds busk for change.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-22265224233169481202010-03-18T14:39:00.034-04:002011-08-16T10:43:21.023-04:00The rib's cageThere you pine, jailed in your ribcage.
<br />Little plastic army men keeping you at bay.
<br />Turnstiles click, at each year's passing.
<br />Shiny chalk pieces marking the days.
<br />Fingers grasping a flimsy metal tray rim.
<br />Every season reduced to gruel on a spoon.
<br />Creamed corn, potato, cherries jubilee.
<br />The warden's face is so familiar.
<br />Sulking in your pitiful hot spring.
<br />You a shiny cipher, hiding the solution.
<br />A dangling wind chime, stuffed mute with cotton.
<br />Every window scraped clean but painted shut.
<br />Lounging on hands, gazing across your life's field.
<br />And the hungry wolves you leave to tending your sheep.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-76942184346140985202010-03-17T21:23:00.047-04:002010-04-01T13:57:06.398-04:00oneThere is this 'other' side of things. <br />I repeated to myself intentionally. <br />The second time spoken in the opposite direction. <br />Our shadow shines bright in the other of places. <br />Our frowns turn joyful across a mirror's divide. <br />Confusion turns crystal behind the fabled door. <br />Sadness migrates to tickle a belly. <br />Fear sprouts a sunflower tending to bees' children. <br />And as thunder crouches, <br />behind the veil, <br />rainbows are waxing. <br />I suppose, <br />when juxtaposed, <br />it all equals one.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-28874514689546250742010-03-16T22:19:00.009-04:002010-03-18T13:23:59.292-04:00Magic StickHere's a magic stick i found powered by imagination. Use it quickly to take over the world, rescue a damsel, or stop evil ninjas. It's shaped like a seven stretched high to the heavens. It's the perfect ray gun with a thumb hole for a trigger. There's a scope if you need it, though your aim is impeccable. Your belt-loop is the holster and you cock it like this. These acorns are smoke bombs and this wood-chip is a walkie-talkie. I'll be in the kitchen guarding our ship. As you travel through time it's also a musket. If you turn it backwards, a magic wand is revealed. It's long enough for a sword and in a pinch, a javelin. Use it for truth, honor, and justice. Remember, don't cherish the stick, but the dreams that wield it. It's something you'll want for the rest of your life.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-49142486928607911362010-03-14T09:07:00.026-04:002010-03-22T19:40:21.548-04:00Passion's Beam"Where are you?" I ask myself waiting patiently. Here i am with these plans of adventure. Toes flex and fidget at the hunch of missing you. I made us a picnic, a red apple and gouda. We can divvy it up with the knife you saw crowning in the dirt. Remember that day? I was hot and you were beaming. We chuckled in the stream as we jumped rock and boulder. Everywhere we looked I saw your reflection. I needed you that day. I always need you. You are my reason to rise from my pillow. When you leave i collapse and dream of your pictures. I am your helpless child, your suckling infant. You show me my shadow and remind me i am seen. On closing my eyes i can feel your light's whisper. My eyelids no match for your mighty embrace. Burn through this fog that lays thick between us. Let me bask in your glory and walk in your way. I know you are there, but wonder if you hear me. I love you Sun! Please come out and play.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-86803066113546599342010-03-13T17:13:00.047-05:002010-03-19T08:23:58.605-04:00The excavationHer dreams were buried deep, below her proud standing. Here she was, in the high of day's noon. Sweat fell like raindrops from a broken gutter. The desert dust keeping her eyes dry and clean. A space-aged shovel clanked on a boulder. It fell with the pack it clung to from home. Her tools spilled loose from the green army denim. She unwrapped a journal zipped safely in plastic. Pushing rubber buttons on the trusty Magellan, "beep, beep" came the assurance she rarely required. This is where history would merge with the present. Knee-pads inched their way over giant boots with effort. She had learned long ago the little things made the difference. She found her spot in this dry dusty nowhere. Raising her shovel high like some temple queen, she plunged her dagger deep into the earth. Bleeding rubble came spewing as she stabbed at her victim. She grunted in rhythm as the rocks crumbled surrender. Hours passed gently like a ten-speed geared easy. Her water was mental as she drank from the thought. Clank was the sound that would quench these lips open. She'd stop on the moment and bask in its time. By sunset she'd reach it, and pull loose her bounty. The dusty handle would squeak joyfully from attention. At that moment, she'd cross her legs and wipe her brow. She'd be sure and cherish the big reveal. She'd brush clean the container like a rescued box turtle. Inside, in the dark, waiting for the light. Her secret would shine again.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-8419223818626058962010-03-06T23:45:00.044-05:002010-03-19T21:37:09.079-04:00She told me franklyShe told me frankly that we were nothing special. My youth recalls the feeling as I paced through the streets. Gut-struck by the punch deep and low in the belly. My breath shattered into a million tiny pieces. My back falls to its knees searching for the beat. Drowning in surprise, the heart keeps gasping. Eyes claw their way up on the raft of belief. Now stranded on this sparse island. Vultures circle my hope laying fetal and panting. My destiny revealed in a feeble lonesome shadow. It stretches across the dunes as the sun slips away. In the dusking quiet i notice the moon has her company. Up there, deep in her mood. She reflects a lover's burning passion. Pools of tranquility look down on me with pity. Sometimes i notice the stars don't twinkle. They pulse an S.O.S. across the thick dark sky. In this cold, in this wind, in these bones, I am my hermit. I wrap my fish in the news of a family. I spark my tinder from a message in a bottle. I paint my cheeks with the ashes of our fire. It burned so bright, but so does my drumming. Through my nose. Out my mouth. No need for pinching. Alive and feasting on regret's bloody throat. Healing is overrated. Scars are trophies. Memories are ribbons. Your's is velvet blue with a giant gold medallion. Life should be so very proud of me.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-90806019514093998962010-01-28T13:33:00.009-05:002010-03-20T15:11:16.848-04:00CarnivoreGather around me oh blessed creatures<br />i wish to eat you one by one<br />My eyes are the fork i use to pluck you<br />My ears slit your throat and stab in the chest<br />Your blood is my gravy that beats deep inside me<br />Your skin is my trophy your bones to my drum<br />I suckle the cobalt that winks on your feathers<br />I marvel the whispers that creak from your beak<br />I nuzzle the talons and gnaw on your skullcap<br />My teeth are stained with the fat from your lipsjtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-63129294683574882142010-01-12T08:14:00.022-05:002010-03-17T13:27:47.797-04:00The color of winterWinter touches me. I feel her snow between my fingers. The air of winter is always listening. Its shiny crystals carry our words like some heraldic message. Even the sun can hear the sermon reflected in its light. Lungs paint stories like chimney smoke from the heart. All is written in the winter with a giant charcoal pencil. White, so thick with color, like a cardinal in the snow. Icicles drip from rooftops, their pipes a grand cathedral. The forest floor remembers, each footstep is not forgotten. Winter knows every moment, every breath, every color, every drop. When she tilts, it all matters!jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-74137403656371175122009-06-16T08:05:00.034-04:002010-03-14T09:52:02.331-04:00How vivid was this confidenceHow vivid was this confidence that brought you up this mountain. So high we stand together, faces cradled in the wind. Fearless hope keeps your wondrous eyes from peeking. Vaulted more by a simple press of tiptoes from the edge. A giant valley of doubt lays crumpled far below us. We come from the bottom. Baptized in her river. Time-and-again our squishy boots have squeaked their way home. For years the spine rested in the shape of a question. Now with nerves untwisted, we form a proud exclamation. Here, drink love's water, from my roots to your branches. Under our tree, we cast this blanket. Nibbling on the fruit of our dreams. Together, up here, among the raptors, where the air feels its purpose.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-76390939429274430022009-05-31T08:50:00.039-04:002010-03-17T18:35:08.563-04:00Up, Up and AwayLast night my head leaped from a car window. The wind inflated my cheeks like gills on a fish. My eyeballs turned sticky from the chill in the air. My belly fizzed a romantic bubbly. We were two people, traveling just below the canopy of southern Appalachia. I was already home. Squinting at the thought of us maybe in the distance. Here, carriaged by four cylinders, secretly wishing we would drive forever. <br /><br />Events start and stop. Pleasure spreads ripples through our memories. Simon and Garfunkel lend us their tune. The best parts are when you are singing. The harmony of all this double-bounces my heart right out of my mouth. My lips erupt their precious secret, "let's keep falling higher and higher. Life's balloon gave me this one string. And the levity of you pulls my whole world up, up and away."jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-67867479563892834792009-05-06T08:23:00.008-04:002009-05-16T08:49:52.926-04:00Clouds crashYesterday, the clouds were crashing. A twisted tree pointed to the fray, so proud of its discovery. The heaven's mumbled as what was once fluffy fell to its knees. Swords of thunder ripped through the sky like rocks through rice paper. The ground did not peep; so brave was its position, beneath an armor of history so thick and pure. A rabbit finds shelter as his nose twitches the news. Birds ruffle patiently behind eyes that seem to yawn. Forming a chorus of "this too shall pass", we listen for the sun together.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-73802545651653149832009-04-17T07:47:00.009-04:002009-04-17T12:09:56.420-04:00Tulip's KissThis morning i kissed a tulip. We had been flirting for days. Its face still buried deep in those green cheeks. Above me woodpeckers demanded a bounty as distant dove's cooed their peace. Teenage fraziers barely shoulder high stood noble and guarded. Under their tall furry hats I tried to make them giggle but they would not budge. I wagged a finger at them saying "one day". I decided to practice my saunter. At the top of the hill I cast the sun's first shadow. I was honored. My posse: two dogs and a dwindling cat who knew we would wait. Our morning rounds - life's coffee.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-17622102624703759272009-02-25T07:50:00.023-05:002010-01-28T10:56:55.378-05:00Hey LifeHey Life, <br />Do you hear that stomping? My giant was asleep for so many years you forgot his potential. I urge you to make preparations. He is coming for you. One thing is certain. He is very hungry.<br /><br />Life, i take from you this one favor. When you cut me, make it deep and to the bone. For this blood drips a royal standard. It flaps high in the wind above drums deep and pounding. My will is an army desperate to plunder. Let your strongest king push me off this mountain. Watch my desire claw its ugly way back to the top. <br /><br />Life, let your sun burn my face as they lounge under umbrellas. Watch me squirm and sweat as I swing my machete through your thickest jungle. I will find your sacred temple through pain and laughter. My pendulum swings far and heavy as it swaths through your world. And when you send death to fetch me, may it gulp at the thought of taking me down.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4820805359077328664.post-7290376435597801252009-02-09T06:37:00.044-05:002010-01-29T09:50:42.471-05:00skin's musicIn this skin i feel my music. In this skin i know my face. It's not a canary caressing a sonnet. But more like a crow beneath fog's sweaty cape. My crackling caw is gruff on arrival. Grasping at branches long since forgotten, and shake loose my story from the bottom of the gullet. I sound the call of life with my throat to heaven gaping. Loud, gruff, stubbly, and obtuse. This is my song, i am its valley. But even the thorn makes a lasting impression. And what is one's life but its effect on others? My body is a tiny pebble, and this life a ripple through the fabric of forever.jtruehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738121573184580786noreply@blogger.com5