haiku with chet

poverty, ruin
the old man thinks it's all good
we'll see about that

hold my hand

soft focus

a light remains 

but i can't see

where i am

or where to go

all i have are open arms

all i have is the hope

that you will 

hold my hand
keep my heart soft
keep my heart soft
keep my heart ready

empty hands

there’s a certain comfort in burying myself

in dreams 

in

love

there’s a confidence found in things

surrounding

there’s a certain faith required to be grateful

I keep coming up short

your whisper is startling but freeing

a painful sort of thing

that causes me to remember

I have empty hands

and I can’t see 

new perspective

40 panels

of the mundane

but he was given a new perspective

and the old man in the top hat 

was free 

free from world-weariness

nothing changed, not a panel

but each moment was filled
with inexhaustible joy

today

waiting for your painted lips to

talk and tell him the news

you don't seem to want

to deliver 

you are so young

and yet so old

so strong and yet

so weak

the way you looked right at me

gratefulness in your clear blue eyes

that's what made me cry as I left

insects are buzzing loudly

despite the bright sun

it sounds like night

on the path around the bend

your hand is so familiar now

I just want to open my heart

now

the new york times and sharpies

everything seems tidy when 

covered up

lead me

bloodied knees

will come

I'm ashamed again

breaking into dirt

I hope you love me

past my flaws

I hope you accept my

weak unsteady footing

I'm doubting

but my love is

honest

you see

more than me

strong lover

you are a leader that

makes me brave

You sing

communication isn’t necessarily lots of words

I’m

on the guitar

a hum, a learning with the pull

there is a sound that reminds me of You

a longing

in the 7^th of the chord

a tendency to want

want want

there’s a particular attention You give in the quiet

I’m learning that love is consistent

You are consistent

when sound ends you remain

tangible 

in the gracious way

You show up

I’m unhinged again

and again

a cadence

you chose

cake batter ice cream

and exclaimed about the sun

so large in the hazy Ohio evening

wiggling in my Toyota
to my npr podcast

you make me smile, boy

there is something so familiar about you

a brother

proven when you met my mom

(she immediately loved you)

I wish you could know 

now

that you don't need 

the acceptance you desire
I wish you could know
in your pulse
that you are enough

grace is always more

the familiarity of the way you

grab my heart

never with

force

only with tenderness

that familiar fear that 

I won't be 

enough

but grace is more

grace is always more

tuesday

saturated color

dipping our heads in the pond

looking at pink sky and corn fields

upside-down

the earth seems ridiculously curved

golden skin and murky

cold waters

it was the hottest day of the year

and our legs are finally soothed

monday evening

pulling you up as mud cakes your sandals

tears in your eyes about stars

I understand this emotion

I knew we would be friends

and I could cry about the fit

about how you say that you always had a sense that

God exists

the golden evening on your parent’s porch

we exist

slowly

like children unaware of

how summer will end

I have this sense

you are

with earth and sycamore and

water

eyes shining

both hands up

I have this sense that your love has the rare depth

of excitement

it is a privilege to love you as

a sister

july

you cannot ever have it all

isn’t that the point?

to want and

desire

feeling the lack and hitting the wall

again to climb

the passion of pursuit

there’s a joy in seeking

my dear

hard work has its own payoff

holding your hands

praying again for rain

it has rained all july

holding your head

underneath is

a little boy

and I want to grow with you

I want to grow 

I made feelings

an idol

I am not enough in my own mind

burrow in your skin

to feel closer

to have your sticky shoulders

I don’t know how to 

let go

I am screaming for comfort

to be enough.

covered in your skin to just
forget
to protect the little I house
to silence the idol
I hate.

asking for forgiveness

prayer

by your open door

it’s raining on me

you don’t even have a shirt on

you are hiding in a blanket

i can feel my pulse in my chest

i don’t know where to sit

i am glad, really

that it took this long

to return to your home
to see that you're human
to cry finally
and not be afraid

healing takes an openness
to see

yes i love you

you wouldn't give up on me
the emotion of it all
the focus
is dripping into my heart
my body
love is a strong word
yes.
i love you.

new

in the car
in the dirt
it is so terrifying to see
jealousy
as the waitress so easily gets you to talk

you are distracted by lights
glass
i am trying to catch your gaze
i am trying to open you
but are my efforts
boxing you in?

maybe i need to let go
back to day one
go back go back
back to day one
where we agreed to not hurt one another
where we agreed to take it day by day

you wanted
you waited
i can be steady
i can wait
i will trust

blur

there’s you

through bits

of trying to fill the hollow that life sometimes brings

a sadness that is free and vague

I expect better of myself

I expect more

a wind I ache for

makes it hard to see

my hair is now long enough

to fall in my eyes

sunlight is a blessing

but what happens when

I decide I need it

and it’s not around?

blurry-eyed and wanting

focus

wanting to shake this

unfamiliar distrust

wanting to forget scattered 

thoughts

I don’t want to use you

to gain clarity

I don’t just want to use you

to feel better

room 155 eating thai
it is pretty warm in this little room
and the piano sounds are a bit warped
i wish i had the confidence to
play to you what i know

\\

you look down and find
the best rocks by the creek
your collection all fossils and shapes
mine all color
now lined on my window sill
from biggest to smallest
are yours by the bathroom sink
in your parent's home?

//

the trees at night
and the buildings are more beautiful
slightly masked
highlighted by street lights
holding your hand and looking up

\\

in your car talking about

homes

and windows

and lots of color

and that mural that may become the lifetime work

rooftop gardens

clean lines

i like how you get to talking

and just don't stop