An Autumn into the Sun, a Spring into the Core

The bed is a mainstay and I rest in it

The past comes as a tall mast and I contend it

But as I am born to walk, I walk around it

And so I pass, but am never able to surmount it

Staring into dark, my bed eyes take over

Sight is unclear and my eyes compensate with forms

Forms of beauty and forms of the strange

My mind takes its time to rearrange forms to molecules

And so it goes tonight, the world is an atom

The world I am forced in and what is brought to me is the nucleus

And I compartmentalize my idolizations, small and fleeting as they are

As electrons that fly fast and invisible around this nucleic world

And I can’t help but notice, even through the unbearable speed

That dictates the motions of my world

And that I am surrounded by atoms of worlds around me

A reminder of the haves and have nots

And the grieving, the thankfulness, the desire and the disgust

All within a paradigm that these small worlds make up our own

What is our solar system and galaxy but a giant atom?

A fall into the sun

A Fall, an Autumn into the sun

So follows a Spring into the core

And I find myself coerced to implore the sun

Fission is not an option, as such my options are few

Give me a chance, Sun, to renew

I ask for fusion and so an integration of the new

My only option to remain within You

And through this an exclusion from space’s Winter vacuum

The Corner I Saw Bayside

The wind is cold, the air crisp and the ground hard

I’m following someone but it’s not my thoughts

And I float by past all the noise of bars

With the constant buzzing in my head of oughts and ought nots

Shamed but determined and ready to finally end up somewhere

A quick left, I’m drawn to the space ahead

And in the space a swing that lolls back and forth

A measured and quiet course

Someone was on it but they’re gone now

This is what troubles me

But wait, there are two versions to this story

One is fulfilling, the other hath greater glory

One true, maybe one false, the other being exaggerated or false

Either one is suitable for me

But I know my film is going to tank

And I will have wasted good storytelling to failure

So I’ll ask you to hail your cabs if you’ll miss the greater glory

Because this, well, is the actual, uncut story

Paranoid, fluttering in the wind

I’m like a length of celluloid

Every image and thought represented, frame by frame

But theres no sound, no projection

I’m alone

Suddenly a projector, yes!

Yes a projector! This is what I’ve been waiting for

And now I wait no more

To finally see what I want to see among the cold and black

The vacuum that I know is God

I walk down the center of this hallowed pier

Turning to the right, yes there’s the corner I saw bayside

I would be there if I was Him

And so I spoke and sighed, choked and nearly cried

Lost myself to the ocean but I swam back again

And every grievance I had ever had blazed skyward

Forward, backward, parallel and perpendicular to the shore that edged me in and

Oh He was listening, I know, just too shocked and high to show

Me what I was asking for, what I was asking to know

Why won’t you talk to me?

The ocean’s so wide, so vast

You must be there, you mustn’t cast my blazing words overboard

I want to see you, I want to see you, I WANT TO SEE YOU

The ocean’s so wide, so vast

You must be there, you mustn’t cast my blazing words overboard

I want to see you, I want to see you, I WANT TO SEE YOU

The wind continued to reject my words, blasting them to my face

And it thought them absurd

My arms were weak and my body slow

Like a tall, tall tree trying to turn toward the Sun

But I turned, only human, and left the pier of my dreams

Passing myself by the projector

Witnessing the awe and disgust traveling over my face

Slowly, as it was cold outside

Disbelief and anger with the ending of the picture show

Both of my selves turn slow

Like two tall, tall trees trying to turn toward the Sun

And we go back the way we came

The space from whence we came, again as one

And in the space a swing that lolls back and forth

A measured and quiet course

Someone was on it but they’re gone now

This is what troubles me