Love of the Oak.

Love of the Oak.

Today of all

the kind, tender sway of leaves and branch

move in animation to my questions

What will be of its future?

What will be of mine?

And the rustle of its leaves match the sounds that wrestling oceans make in loving hate


If it were to hate more than love?


No, it must be both

Because the trees respond to me in ominous tones of high and low

As if it were reprimanding,

much like a mother to a child,

But in that way, as Mother does:

With Love.


A Whirring in Space

Thousands of light years away I hear the whirring in my sleep. Through the static echoes in my brain and by the hum of sweet cosmic lullabies in my ear. I believe, that the pace of New York is a genius cover up for the reasons why we don’t look up to the stars anymore. We don’t think about our minuscule presence. Of course we shouldn’t. Any information as such can drive the world mad with questions, with the fear of being forgotten. The fear of being lost in so much empty Space. But how can one feel lost when we just might walk together in that rust-colored vacuum we call Mars. The color of rock dust recognizes us, thank god. NASA has announced the landing of the space probe called “InSight”. I believe this is the whirr I hear. I believe it’s the sound of progress. Although I do not feel inspired right now, the tinkering of wires inside the contraption begs for human curiosity.  

The cosmic dust in the galaxies are not lost. They simply are as they will be, millions and billions of miles away from our infectious curiosity.  Yet these probes and metal frequencies search for a home that is lost. And what is home if you cannot comfortably sink into loss, and turn such into something that is found? Because when something is found, it can never be lost again, but anything else that happens to It is fair game.

Such technology shocked thousands as the beeps and tweets and whirring of computations occurred in less-than-real-time. Their creators shed joyful tears, not for the loss of another curiosity, but for the success towards godliness, Mightiness, to reign into a new kingdom. It is there to destroy, to love, to hate, because what is love for a home if it does not drive you mad at the same time? Oddities will drive you mad so that you know you care enough to possibly love them. Lab coats, hunched over with creases for hours at a time are fixational symptoms of human fascination.

I will hope, and sing for Mars. I will sing my mourning for the chalky red planet floating among the nebulas and infinite universes. Sure enough, the Evil of Mankind is absolutely persistent to get what it wants, what it needs, because there is nothing more home to Mankind than a world that is not ours.

Oceans That Hover

To the Oceans that hover,

I want to write to you about how

lovely and incredible

your pearly whites, and authentic smells

of salt water are enough to make one see:

It’s hard enough to walk through uneven lands,

but to tread through oceans

of your deathly strengths..

A sailor’s gaze

a daredevil, I might add,

can see right through the angry child that you are

so sweet, so beautiful,

yet so unfiltered and destructive.

Can such a beauty of nature hold so dear to my heart

when you endanger our fragile bodies?

I can’t help but love you,

for awakening my existence.

That is your gift to me

and I dive into the fruits of your gift with a heart so heavy

to drag me through the greater depths of below.

There, I see a deeper purpose for me.

The Portal

It climbs out from the yellow orb in the sky and it whispers into my ear, Don’t do it. 

I recognize the conflict between my place here and the place I want to be. 

I know I don’t want to be anywhere without you. And I am, yet I’m still breathing. 

Miserably, but I’m still kicking. 

I don’t think I need, I don’t think I need, I don’t think I need…

I don’t think. 

And so the crystals and specks of dust from the orb call out to me. 

They call out to me and tempt me with what might have been on the other side. 


I barely feel the world get by on its own. It’s encompassed by its own stagnant cycle; keeping itself on a steady yet still continuation of all life forms.

Slowly they continue on without the intention to prosper.

They make unconscious decision while the world also makes its own unconscious decision to move selective species forward.

In what seems like pure coincidence comes to what now looks like an intentioned benevolent gift.

The world must have someone to give and share its wonders to, just as much as we have much to give to the world.

Indiscriminately focused on keeping the wheels turning, we forget the machine we’re turning the wheels for.

Cursed with the need for knowledge and expansion.

So much that we might even die for it.

So much that we might even kill for it.

The atoms that mend the fabric of space and time, the atoms that hold together my skin will fall apart at any moment.

The ground beneath me will crumple away into nothingness.

A large blanket of nothingness through empty space.

Each and every one of us is a continuation of one consciousness.

When a life has ended, a new life begins and so proceeds the start of a new chapter in a single book that is but a single thread in a series of books.

We lead and formulate the content in chapters based on our actions.

One who writes a chapter full of misconduct doesn’t have the satisfaction of the end of it’s book.

Where we each serve as a chapter in a book, the ones who write a chapter full of misconduct will continue the series and the book will not end until the mysterious deity finds satisfaction in the original and sincere choice of words.

My book has yet to be finished.

Perhaps it hasn’t started yet.

An exhausted mind exposes an honest heart.

He was going to take a shower,

But he changed his mind..

He was going to take me out to the porch with him,

But he changed his mind..

I was given a second chance

I shouldn’t be here,

But I am..

To that, I concluded,

“I shouldn’t waste this.”

You’re a Work of Art

Why do you creep into my dreams?

You’re only a friend

I’ve only ever talked to you

And felt warmth by you

And loved you

So why do you walk slowly in my peripheral vision?

So why do you say nothing?

So why do you vanish when I flash a look at you?

Why do you creep into my dreams?