let it rain

oh the weather out here is awesome
and some flowers are still in blossom
i shouldn’t have to explain
let it rain, let it rain, let it rain

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Why do you write?

A friend recently posted a question: “Why do you write?” Here is a copy of my reply. What about you? Why do you write?

When I meditate, I let go of my attachment to follow the would-be train of thoughts. But the sensations that could be thoughts do not cease, and are quelled not for long. 

I can relax my breathing a hold my breath for moments, but when I go about the day, my mind and breathing diverge. 

I can let my heart slow its tempo, but hopefully it does not stop for many years to come. 

I can hold my tongue for hours, or possibly be silent for days. But soon I will end up singing, or crying, or laughing, or speaking. 

When I cannot find a pen, pencil, or keyboard the words from my hands never cease for long. Writing is not merely a desire. It is a need. It is an inalienable duty of my mind and body to write, whether spelling words with my hands or feet in the air, forming written words and symbols within my mind. But before long I will caress any surface with letters and words, or write and draw in the dirt or sand. I forage for paper or cullable photons and search for a pen, pencil, or willing layer of light beneath the glass. It is an undeniable need. I must write, for the thoughts and stories, the code and poems, the software written in the wind, bubbles up from my very core and percolates through my soul. If I were to try not to write, the pressure would build up and drive me mad. 

I write because I must. To not write is a kind of death of the spirit and the mind. To write is an inalienable right. 

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i have a little window
in the corner of my room

i open it
and let its light shine through

the corner
with the window
is oft neglected
in want of mop or broom

my window is quite old
i think its glass
may be twisted
and cast a distorted hue

the window casing
may be warped
from years of weather
the frame may not be true

sometimes the things i see
are not quite what they seem
the days i open my window
are both seldom and few

i throw the window open
it’s jaded light shines through
i tilt my head to compensate
severely slanted view

the world is out of joint
the bard echoes in my mind
nay, ’tis merely my window
its perspective set askew

if only time could set it right
dispel phantom smoke and fumes
fight against the rising tide
nay, it is up to me and you

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the sixth row
simply had to go

it escaped
into the darkness
hidden in the brightness
dashed off to mission control
took off from the launchpad
the footlights went dark
the footlights went bright
back in time, it did rewind
no time to pause, there’s a game to play
it eagerly fast forwarded
into the deafening silence
just a little bit softer now
just a little bit louder now
and so it came to power

old row has been stripped
into pixie dust dipped
with beauty now is touched

let go of form and function
welcome the new era
like a cosmic conjunction

the sixth row
simply had to go
into darkness
behold the brightness
of the new highness

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all i am has been paid for
by things i have been given


all i have done
and all i have been
is my currency

but no
it is not all current

i have let go of things
left them in the past
all i have done
and all i have been
is my pastcy

my currency
does not include
wounds that have healed
all that has been forgiven
nor times i have changed my mind
lessons i have learned

all that is
ripples dissipated
on the pond of my being
my past is my pastcy

only my current
where i hold my tenancy
that is my true currency

my hopes
these dreams

all like culling credit
they are my futurecy

yet of these three
only currency truly exists

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there must have been
a moment when
i first saw
this person you are

i remember you
truly i do
whether i shook your paw
or chatted from afar

but here’s the thing
to admit it does sting
i couldn’t draw
each freckle or scar

the you i think i know
i wouldn’t be able to show
any semblance of likeness
sketched with pencil or char

many moments i recall
fragments i remember
pieces of you i recollect
barely a sketchy avatar

i hope you don’t mind
but perhaps i’m faceblind
i’ve seen your smile, beheld your eyes
but in my memory you’re in disguise

your face is like the ocean
i haven’t the faintest notion
swimming swimming
in this ocean brimming

adrift upon this sea of nope
i chance upon an island of hope
an anchor on which to snag
a mast on which to raise a flag

perhaps i know your nose
or maybe your patented pose
alas, as i try to remember more
i am adrift, no sight of shore

your face is like the ocean
i haven’t the faintest notion
swimming swimming
in this ocean brimming

your face is like a trusted book
that’s hidden in a secret nook
locked in my mind’s library
deep in stacks i cannot see

your face is like a familiar page
of a book written by a sage
so many words are written there
i stand agape, can only stare

what is this prosopagnosia
but some facial amnesia
so i try, i try to read you
each time i see you

i notice your clothes and stare
i take a good look at your hair
distracted by these notes
jotted in the margins

clinging to the coastlines of the page
i cannot see the sea at the center
so many words like waves a-rage
the story of your face is washed away

i remember details so few
i know what i must do
i resolve to look at you anew
i shall notice the true you

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Happy Equinox

Happy Equinox! Here is a note I shared four years ago. While the Hobbit 100 day reference might not be relevant today, I though I would share this again anyway. I hope you have a great day!

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Equus who?
Equus Knox.
Very funny.
Well, I am a zebra.
White with black stripes, or black with white stripes?
You’ve seen Jack and Meg?
You’re digressing.
The sun is.
It’s the earth really.
Only from a northern perspective.
Well, Happy Equinox, then.
Happy qiū fēn, 秋分.
Happy First Point of Aries.
Happy Trumpet Day.
Happy Hobbit Day.
Are they really happy?
Only 100 days left.
Less than that, actually.
Of the year, I mean.
You’re not mean.
Sure are, totally average.
Night and day. Right.
Happy qiū fēn, 秋分.
Happy Equinox.
Are you regressing?
That’s a matter of opinion.
Are you a northerner or southerner?
Ah, hemispheric.
Knock, knock.

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