time on our hands no washing it off

time in our minds let it ripple through as if we know what it is

let it be what it wants

time forming new threads and windows

a pattern shift and recognition lifting from the roots of the sea

pull outwards and dive down in

where the gold is held in

deep the god is suspended in liquid iridescent form caught orb and coiled 'round

serpentine

meandering

follow the trail down into the valley find

the grave find

the hollow branches and soft bristling birches

make the forms you desire and meet the desire that forms you


a unique opportunity I am

glad to be here

to be here

here resting

here resetting

here resurrecting

the practice I knew I could find


swoop and cycle through

they are feeding and calling warbling the warning here it is

here we are

come gather,

come,

be here

together

be nourished


seek deep down in here here is the magic here

is the gold you know this I already told you listen again listen you must

think

you must

feel really, now

really?

yes


answer yes or no

yes

it is true I know

no

all things are changeable

so

what can be made?

I am glad that there is an online outlet that is essentially anonymous for me still. 12 years and counting this is a electrical radiating vessel of memory and thought and expulsion. ramblings and bullshit. deepest longings and fears and grievances and long stretches of forgetting and angst and yearning and curiousity and zero assessment, zero reputation to uphold, just whatever. thank fuck.


and I am glad to know it is still a function, somehow, in some way, just when it is required, when the regular journal isn't quite the thing and the poetry blog isn't exactly it (too refined, trying to be seen and liked you know? yeesh) and the instagram is now just about trying to make a buck maybe also share what I'm looking at a little square-shaped projection of what I want them to see

but you

ha

you don't know me

and yet

you know me better than most.


joy in this


thanks buddy





today reconnections created themselves. I'm curious. It's such a strange time. I participate. Forgiveness is easy somehow now. Just needing to be connected, ensuring that we aren't casting each other away unnecessarily. And maintaining the correct boundary is the continual work. the work - ask those questions, turn it around.


going for a walk now

I sit, sensitised

I stand, I walk up

the hill and my hand

tingles where the air kisses it

I am always seeking

      something but today

I wait for it to meet me -

  and it does not take long.

The lichen.

   Symbiotic poetic

   cross-collaboration cell

   integration performance

   a way

      for both of us

         to survive 

the body bursting

      from the dirt

      in slow power

      lifting rocks and forcing

      the compacted matter

      aside, away, to display 

the efforts of decay

   Continuum

being nourished by the dead

emerging in the autumn

performing the all-time (long-time)

heavyweight champion

the rush and swirl of

   the unhushed world,

      oceanic traffic distances

      being-becoming

      entangled in birdsong

      softly, gently,

      the aircraft rumble in cloudscape meeting rock and scrape crunch step by step and step 

here

  to stand, here

  to breathe

     the ridge and

the world

   has heard this

        story before

the world has heard this

      story before it is a 

   love story,

                remember?

it is desire

      the desire to exist 

             to feel

                    to be

in cross-collaboration

         in sympoetic elation

    symphonic dégustation

to taste the possible

                     combinations

pair me, love meet me

      here I am

            listening,

                my glands 

                     activating

   my spirit salivating 

I have room

       and room 

           and room

     for you -

this dirt become wood become lichen-carrier 

rock crumbled pigmenting sap infinite drip

star infinite map slipping 

between my organs listen the many-called organism glistens 

ready for the infinite potential of

             dreaming -

I am sensitised.

      slow, slow fast

the pace of

           the living.

I am buffeted, there are waves, there are ways to swim and float and thrash and drown and dive, I walk, I sit, I breathe, I dig, I sing it is all here I

   am

     here

each moment

    rustling gently

         against its companions

I    am          here

Thank you for

      being - becoming - rock -

      ground - root - leaf - 

      sun - fire     here

I     am        a

          lichen 

          fungus

          bird song

          engine

          companion

          collection

               here.

Waves,

   the flux of rush-relax patterning,

   an ebb-flow action and depth

I’ve not known til now.

  What are our realities made of?

microorganism interrelation symbiosis

   symbiogenesis integration

   consumption and procreation

we

  have always been

      lichens.

The birds take wing and

    sing in the golden light

long shadows, settling sun

   play

      and

   desire

         reaching towards the light -

oh, my love

      is all I need

Come close to me, my love

   I will show you how I feel

I am here

  a live

I feel fine

      and absurd

fear and love

    freedom is calling, dear ones, in all its forms.

  just a choice away

     to choose each day, each moment

        to listen

        to return

again, here

            alive

    love