the vibrations

attack my hand like a need

a need for a fix.

holding myself close

the shakes come and go

shaking free

shaking loose- not loose enough

before the home

 

come on home

this is our treehouse

missing on two by four and a nail

a dream come true

our six-year-old selves are giddy

shaking loose never loose enough

 

climbing up and up

high enough and we’re a little dizzy

staying up all night memory is a little fuzzy

stars charmed the pants off us- got a little snuggly

 

the home remains- dishes washed and floor cleaned

door bell missing and a two steps or four.

 

livin’ in my dreams

inside my head

hidin’ fighting sleep

scarin’ myself to death.

 

can’t live forever

with my head in the clouds

heart in the clouds

keepin’ my feet on the ground

and you

will chase- chase me down.

 

knew we had to get away

from the storm

knew we had to get away

all along.

 

we live in a wonderland

like blood isn’t on our hands

with these eyes

I’ll chase everything.

Soaring above

sore in the morning

love never came cheap

if it did it wasn’t real

you pay for what you get.

these eyes will want

everything- the way you walk

turns heads

and you’ll never pay them a dime

the way your words capture my ears

my eyes feel

jealousy.

I can’t stand when you are not here

the bed doesn’t seem as comfortable

the love is never as pure

as satisfying

never as sore in the morning

soaring above- searching

the third eye- searching

perched on your door step

ringing the doorbell

 

You make me

skip

around the house

through the yard

on the roof

screaming.

Skipping with kids that just learned

to step

can barely step

forgot them

but I’ll skip past.

They’ll never see me again

I made it to the moon already

singing with blank faces

signing and kissing babies

I gotta go though-

I’ll be late for dinner.

Closed and forbidden-

time chased from six to three

I can’t tell you what is going on

hidden under the cork

and flying for the rafts.

Bottled up and hidden on the shelf

fine wine going to waste

descending into cellar waiting for the year.

If I’m a genie

and it’s your final wish

I’ll be gone.

Gone long enough to remember a scent

scent of passing time

and the clock on three.

I’ll never stop

cutting these holes and creating a new tunnel.

To live with the old

is to live in a shadow-

I think it was on a box of cereal or something.

The silver spoon banks the hum from the kitchen light

and burns a hole through the wall.

Panic- yes- mom is gonna kill me.

 

She hasn’t lived here in ages though,

and the one you want is out hiking,

you’re alone-

looking through a hole that was already there

and a bowl of cereal has been out for ten minutes-

it’s soggy.

Work is late- late for work

can’t stop staring at the hole in the wall

 

the next morning will come-

she’ll still be gone

the hole will still be there

and the cereal will still be soggy.

 

i knew it would be hard but

you never know until the day comes.

looking in between this fence

sign reads- “Just Settle”

i can’t find the courage to settle for something less than magical.

i’ve seen the highs of the hills and the clouds below

just wouldn’t understand.

snow ball fights and ski lodges

on the other side of the fence.

would you, settle? honestly?

take a seat and willingly accept

that this new source of  feeling is- can be- something

and place it down and walk away-

would you?

a day like today-

a little bit of Summer and hazing desert,

the something new is around the corn-

i’ll never want to stop climbing that mountain

where the fences aren’t high

and the Summer holds their chase.

will look down one day at those in Summer-

scaling

wondering why we struggled to stay put

or i’ll stand on this side of the fence

a protester without a sign

and just a bit of magical incentive

and a story about a mountain.

Hang gliders

from day to-night

dangling from the stars

from night to snow

crawling fear of loss climbs up their legs

 

sadistic heat tries their sides too high to stop and fly

from hell to now

 

from now to the landing

they said it would be easy- two hands on the wheel

flow go from gold post and a Jumper like Hayden

changed the world in an evening- one hand and a cold feeling

they said it would be easy- lost sight of the pad

one map and fried pen

need to go home, on tour with endless shows

endless loops- they said

same map and sinking blimps

it would be easy

if the landing pad stayed still.

Truth exists somewhere between the dark and the light

holding our hands out

floating down the stairs

between existing and not.

We love each other dearly

holding our hands out

catching the sun

chasing the moon.

You never-

you never smile with your eyes

they’re a wanderer

fielding dreams

a true i by i.

I want this.

To be ignited and fueled by-

wonders-

wonders yet worshiped

and only recently discovered

and laying flags like a moon wo(man)

and you’ll be spotted.

To be surrounded by this world

this art

this beauty

your beauty. The hands on the wheel

I’ve always steered alone

(maybe I don’t have to)

the road is wavy

you with the map

(and me with the luck)

will slay this planet.