Gathering all of the Vibes

We are all connecting.
The bits and pieces that make the machine.
We are integrating, interfacing,
the innovation of purpose.
Each driven by individual need,
yet our goals somehow run parallel.
Even if our steps are out of time,
our actions out of sync.
Our hearts beat together,
our pulse united.
Our humanities roots run deep,
this biomass coalescing, culminating,
the actions of generations,
lived into fruition.
We are the joyous sound on the lips of our children,
here unto the ever after.

Hold the Line 5/23/2011

I've left a copy of myself on the floor
the one that picks up the phone
that answers the door
a facsimile of me
in gray scale we all look the same

I'm picking up piece by piece
putting together the dots
holding on the other line
waiting for myself to come through
put back together

So frames keep running on
without me spliced into the film
A fake, a cardboard cutout
The smiling face gone without a trace

This copy by the door
the one that answers when it's called
can't pick up the phone anymore

I'm picking up piece by piece
editing myself together
holding the line
waiting for me to come through
put back together

We All Fall Down 4/27/2011

This is my heart, the beat from across the room.
Should I fail, I hope you remember the rhythm.
This is the part, the moment when when I fall,
When I fail, who's there to catch me when I stumble?

I've held myself in check
Let me fears get the best of me
I walk from one cliche to the next
Following or followed
My hopes lie fallow

This is my heart, the beat you hear without knowing.
When I fail, when I fall, I hope you remember the rhythm.
With my last breath, with my final beat.
I hope you remember the rhythm of my heart.

This is my song, my final melody.
When I fail, I hope to hear you sing my joy eternal.
When I fall, my hope keeps my reaching from my knees.
When I find my rhythm, my breath again.
My hope is that you are with me.

Vary Lumar: "The Jig is Up"

Moved to notesfromthemanagement.blogspot.com

My Center Holds

The parts that float away,
Pulled by someone else's gravity
Their attraction not enough to draw me out.
My center holds

You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
To that sweet release

I don't wear my damage on my sleeve
My scars are hidden underneath
I don't need to be drawn out
My center holds

When I hear your voice
I'm off like a shot to the North
I'm wading out to sea,
You're on the shore,
Calling me back to the beach.

You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
Closer to that sweet release.

A Lot of Love to Give

I thought that I was broken
Left over from my demolition
I thought that I had shattered
To look in the mirror and see the fractures spreading
Waking up, from my morbid day dream
Shaking off the dust
I am not a broken heart
I'm just an open heart
I've got this gift to give
I've kept it safe, kept it close
I'm not a broken heart
I've got a lot of love to give.

Keepers of the dead

We're all keepers of the dead. We wear our memories, etched like lithographs, hanging in the hallways of our hearts. We're all walking reminders, of joy and love resounding. Echoing, in the hallways of our hearts. Memories of forgotten blessings, unrecognized miracles, come flooding back with grief. We your fellow keepers, remember, we take the words out of your mouth and speak them as our own. We're all keepers of the dead, with the pain of loss still spreading, you are not alone.

Waving my dick (at the wedding)

I can't let go of the possibility,
that I let my reflection, make the decisions
If I pick up this mask, and put it back on
I'll never take it of again

I'm not over my little bitty broken heart
I'm left standing,
I'm waving my dick,
waving my dick at the wedding

I can't tell if time is moving wicked fast
Or If I'm just standing really still
If I move a muscle, If I draw a breath
Will they just stop and stare?

I'm not over my little bitty broken heart
I'm left standing
and I'm waving my dick,
I'm waving my dick at the wedding.

7/19/2010 III

Free write home:

I can admit to myself (finally) that these times they are a-changin'. I've never done anything for myself that I didn't want to do. The frustration, the pain, all worth it. I'm dreaming again, I'm seeing myself in a new light. I'm hoping again, not waiting any more, though I won't deny I'm wanting. These lies I've told myself are sloughing away. Like so much dead skin. I'm shedding previous concepts, realities. I think I'm finally growing up.

7/19/2010 - What's left

I don't have a whole lot to give,
Most of what I had was taken,
I've broken part, what's left of my heart.
Just leave me this piece,
This place to breathe.
I've take it to heart,
I'm alone now.
I'm too far gone down the road,
No wait...
That's your cue to take the pieces and run.
I'm left with this shell of my self.
Creaking hinges on a dusty shelf.
The parts I've given away,
Are the sum of my failure,
The biggest mistakes,
So take these pieces left of me and run away.

7/19/2010 II

It's been eight years since I've seen the stars,
show me the sky and my wish is granted.
I could hold this world in the palm of my hand,
pursue the hand held sun.
My misfortune to remember the firmament,
while she slowly drips from my memory.
I want just one view of the night sky.
Open wide, and I'll see the soul of the universe.
She holds me dear, I'll let go the fear,
that I'll forget the face of the wilderness.
I'll keep pushing, keep looking,
keep turning over stones unturned.
I'll keep waiting, hands held in darkness.
While the vastness, she unfolds before me.

7/19/2010

I've drained the cistern,
now I wait for time,
to turn around again.
I've held onto this moment,
this very moment,
when the world fell apart.
You haven't told me all your secrets yet,
I'm the finder, I've no doubt I'll get it right.
You haven't revealed the purpose,
I know I'm the first,
to dive into the maelstrom.

7/16/2010 - The Long Way

7/16/2010 - The Long Way

As our heartbeat slows my attention goes,
To the feel of your hips against mine,
It's a fast tight curve, the wrong word,
Could shoot us off into the night.
I've a long way to go to hit bottom
Hold on tight if you've got 'em
It's a wild ride through the night sky
Something's missing,
I can't tell if you're here or far
You've got the right way,
I'll take the long way
Looking up at you from the hole in my heart
I'll be looking for you in the middle
I've a long way to go

Don't Talk 7/7/2010

We're standing here, smoking our cigars,
The tugs pulling barges out to sea,
You draw a breath to speak.

Shh don't talk, you'll cock it up
I'm letting the tide break over me
Shh just wait, write it down
It'll come back to you I promise

Just stand right here,
give me a moment of silence
I'm letting the world breath around me
I don't mean to cut you off, just don't talk.

5/9/2010 - Faded fabric

The honeymoon is over,
it's time to see the faded fabric,
The spark has dimmed.
There's a pile of smiles a mile high
I could paste on at any time.
I've seen the fervor fade.

5/8/2010 - Waiting on the rain

The storm is moving overhead,

the rain, coming down,

I've got nine floors to go.

Racing past elevator doors,

across the lobby,

to the street below.

I've been waiting for you,

waiting for the storm,

I'm chasing the rain.

I may be a fool to have waited.

The storm is long past,

The opportunity gone.

The rain drumming down,

pounding on my skull,

just a memory.

5/7/2010 - Sic transit gloria mundi

Time to queue up in the line again.
One more moment of wasted time,
is wasting mine away.

We've got too much time or not enough.
Remember how to breathe.
Once your chest rises gravity takes over,
we're not a beat away from the fire.
We could be two beats until,

We've got just enough time to spend.
Not enough time to waste.
Just enough to make it last,
until the music fades.

There's too much time or not enough.
Don't forget how to breathe.
Once your chest rises gravity takes over.
We are one heart beat away.
Just enough time, just enough.

4/30/2010 - Format

You set the format, I'll take the forceps,

and start ripping off these extra parts.

I've taken each bit that doesn't fit,

and thrown it to the side.

We can start the building, you and I.

You set the format, I'll take the forceps,

and start twisting your ideas into creation.

You've put the bits into an outline.

We can start assembling.

You've designed, this monument of mine,

that I am to build between us.

This wall of gristle, bone, and muscle,

I've followed your format, it's your turn with the forceps.

4/29/2010 - Edges

This morning I remembered the harsh edges of my dream.
There were checkered flannels, red t-shirts,
and some kind of clock just ticking.
All of my shirts had holes,
just between the shoulder blades.
As if I'd finally grown my wings.

You pushed me down the stairs while I was doing laundry.
I remember the sound of my bones,
cracking as I hit each step.

Snap, crackle, pop,
like a meat sack full of rice crispy treats.

The feeling of blood dripping between my eyes,
down my neck, between my breasts.
Seeing my bones exposed so easily.
The strangest of all,
I wasn't angry over being pushed down the stairs,
or breaking every bone in my body.
I was pissed that I had to redo the laundry.