2017

To Be Placed in the Temple: An Open Letter to Aaron Joel Mitchell

When the sky shifted
and the darkness urged that it would fall,
did you upturn to the panorama twilight explanation
or to the bewildered faces surrounding you?
Did you see the reflection of the corona
in the tears of joy your comrades shed
or conceal the fire radiating inside you
for the first time in 41 years?

I was unaware, am unable to relay,
am honored to think that we sat
in similar silence during the penumbra,
Though our mind states likely differed,
I wonder, did you feel the same
unnerving itch for change
bubbling beneath your skin
when the temperature dwindled
and stars emerged?

What a bold metanoia to share
with each being in attendance,
50,000 souls strong, millions worldwide,
eclipsed by our expectations.
We readied ourselves
for a strange new world.

That obscured sun and its’ displaced rays
guided us toward a wholly uncertain future.

I struggled to leave the forest. Did you?

Inevitably, that ephemeral festival decomposed
and another was said to be simultaneously
materializing from the rubble in a distant lake bed.
This layered hazy decompression on the blood red horizon.
I wonder did you let your heart rest in between?
Did you call your wife to tell her you were safe
before wandering back into the abyss?
Were you prepared to strap in
to the next week-long roller coaster?

Ready or not…

Only one of us made it to the forbidden city.
I hope they held you unyieldingly
as you stepped through the gate,
welcomed you home,
made you roll in the dust as they always do.
I hold you now heavy hearted
because it is my home too.
We are a family of sun beams
collecting kin to build a shiny, new society.
I hope you let the dust layer you
with a convincing illusion of safety,
let the community of dreamers
and shakers swallow you whole
until your wildest ideas were fleshed out and fulfilled.

They were so lucky to have you briefly.
One in 70,000 beautiful creatures,
all dancing out their mortal fears
until the sun rose again,
ready to devour the pulsing vibrant energy
exploding from within.

This dangerous, desolate planet was gifted to you
to breathe in slowly through a mask of your choosing.
Happily lost, half afraid and half excited,
you explore with eyes and ears and heart wide open,
to absorb the light and the wisdom
that comes with self-examination.

I imagine you there,
riding full force into the white out dust storm
on a creaky old bicycle
with little regard for the past or future.

I can’t help but wonder if the inalienable freedom
was too much for your mind and heart to bare.
Did the world back home become a dark deception
when you saw what was possible out there?

I have held the weight and depression of that half-truth,
have returned to commonality in fetal position, blinders glued,
have felt the flames at my back urging me to continue.
This city too decomposes in the storm, the exodus,
fire tornadoes to make fearful example of us.

You became the funnel cloud that day,
spreading ash far and wide as you ran toward
what I can only imagine was your
light at the end of the tunnel,
breaching the barriers we all hold sacred.
I know you meant no offense,
only sought your own final answer,
your winded dissipation.

Please understand our shock,
we are not meant to become the effigy.
Witnessing the distance between
yourself and the flame is key.

I wonder if you looked like a distant star expanding,
Did the lights go out all over Black Rock City in mourning?
Or did they all dance your soul out into the ether with honor?

I hold space for you now one month later
to pass on to whatever comes next with ease.
When I fill my hands with soil and search for seeds,
I recognize contact we have made with each other’s atoms.
I can’t claim to know why you disassembled, dissociated with your body,
but I have heard it said that it is better to burn out than to fade away.

Ashes to ashes,
in dust we trust.

Manifesting Madison

I beckon you to me,
wild dogs across the city,
playing telephone down the alley ways,
free to run down nails on the pavement,

three short yips to say “please help me,”
I am not sure I have mastered the language
and yet I just keep barking and
hoping we are all yelling into the same abyss
with dreams of finding our echoes,

I am free of my muzzle and kennel,
itching for you like fleas,
calling to you with reckless abandon,
beckoning you to me,

But I’m not sure who my SOS is reaching,
will I intersect lost mutt or the net of the animal control man?

Here you are,
a perfect mix of the two,
right on time

With feverish expressions,
wind swept fur and a soft spot for belly rubs,
it seems like you’ve been running as well,
nose aimed in the air in search of home.

Caught the scent of safety and played dead a while
but I can’t promise infinite companionship
knowing my feral background and your flighty tendencies,
I can guarantee only that I’ll lick your face daily,
curl up at your feet while you howl at the moon.

This isn’t about the ways we domesticate,
it’s about the feeling of someone gnawing
through the collar that never fit your neck,
it’s about the instinct to finding our pack.

We are puppies,
paling in comparison to the wolves we’ve met
but we are learning to snarl at hands
that reach out to touch without permission,

can’t always teach us new tricks,
we only submit to the call of fellow lost dogs,
an admission of trust in our own tribe

riding a common vibe, letting it drive
while I stick my head out the window
to take a bite at this life without foaming at the mouth,

I am a mad hound waiting to be let out
and you my friend are loyal, saw my potential,
despite red flags, mange, and behavioral issues,
led me home in the darkness,

we ducked in through the hole in the fence before they could catch us,
scents trailing off and I am lucky to have manifested this rest.

Summer Stone Skipping

We are the pond skimmer

reflections of each other

warped illusion of another reality

a water logged common ground

fun to watch the ripples bloom to expand

but if we look too deep we risk falling in

the awareness here is shallow

we want to believe so badly

we can see whats beneath 

but we have not breached the surface

we stick hands and feet in slowly

stirring the bottom with toes

muddling up the perspective as usual

they think we were meant for the shore

and the castles we never finished

but we were grown here between the rocks

made for the bottom feeders

the bottoms of bare summer feet

we wash away the defeat we feel

in sweet breezes and the trickle in

of mountain streams we built our dreams here

by the skin of our teeth we hang

on to the rope swing that we

have been mastering for years

still afraid of the sting of the cold world below

Simple

still sipping sobriety
from slumped straws
still sifting through
sensory stipulations
over strong spirits
silver spoons sticking
out of shoddy sockets
Simple
like syrupy sweet seduction
still styled like civil sapiens
still striving for symbolism
still shared by seemingly
separate civilizations
Simple
slipping silently into
seclusion solely
to save the selfish from
sinful stimulus
still shifting subjectively
still secretly spoiled by
Simplicity
so sucked into superficial
social graces spiked with
cynical stand points
surrealist shmucks snicker
sound shivers into our substance
seems to shake our stability
we unshackle the spirit
it is still so...
Simple


Offering

She bleeds with the moon

cavern cradled in light

body about as sacred

as the few empty spaces 

that still exist inside her

listen how you fill them up

with brilliant sounds

watch how they only bare

fruit when you least expect it

shun the idea of hiding in here

she bleeds wholesome 

dark side of a desolate rock

craters dug by delusion

listen how the silence erodes her

watch how she becomes

what she fears the most

shun the idea of compensation

what can the moon say

for the damn  damaged earthlings

earning their wings with yearnings

she carries no guilt for them

drip dropping bodily offerings
into the soil, until she is absorbed.

Gaia

The goddess is awakened
and she is having trouble
catching her breath
the air at this altitude
is thick with vibration
she is earth,
growing in every direction
she is the overstimulated
feeling of being happy and healthy
and depressed at the same time
so desperately human
and yet trying to reconnect
she is every moment
all wrapped up in one
overanalyzed inspiration
expanding outward into the dark
making space between
her molecules for possibility
she is transcending physicality
she is you and I and the trees
the goddess is awakened and
sometimes she is so angry
she demands respect
while she tries
to catch her breath
again between mantras
she is too tired to be mad
she is too beautiful
to be so damn tired all the time
she needs a moment
to acknowledge the process
the constant shifting
we need more herbal tea
and less conflict
there’s no rest for
the eternally anxious
she named herself planetary
in attempt to wake
the stellar parts of others
my goddess is it working
what a flow to follow
the ecstatic movement
we crave, she brings it
full force from the gut
pushing you further
outside comfort of
prescribed routine
despite wishing for
tradition among friends
she is too big
for her own ideas
she is the mother we
suckle at when we are scared
or at least thats what she thinks.


Tiny Story

If I read our story backwards
its about the moment our eyes met

you told me you could never see me again

we spent months fighting with ourselves

about why this love felt so wrong

you told me everything I felt for you was fake

on our second date, I cried at the table while

you listed off all my flaws and I told you I would

love you forever. 

we move swiftly into the part where you 

ignored me for weeks when I reach for you and 

when you finally reach back I tell you this 

was never worth the trouble.

Fast forward to our first time traveling together

I got the police called on me for being drunk

and having feelings. I inhaled more dust and

ash than air and wished I could bury you in the sand.

I begged you for more fighting at midnight, 

sarcastic belittling banter aimed for my head,

summer time make up sex that gets boring 

when you fight every day instead of hugging. 

and then I blacked out for a few weeks.

Fast forward to my face against the pavement,

the blade against your throat, the LSD blotter

still soggy under your tongue. The smile that

came with a hefty price tag

Fast forward to the ear splitting screaming, 

to idle threats and my car idling at the end of your driveway.

I can’t recall ever unballing my fists

despite never learning how to use them.

Somewhere in there I decided I was safer with

women but never had the guts to say it out loud

we both knew you could see right through me

guilt leaking from my finger tips moon walking

down your spine in the morning.

We loved immaculately anyways one day at a time 

and when you were done pacing the floor and

breaking anything you could get your hands on

We became calm

you told me how fixed you are

our illusions had sunk in and

now puppy love could begin

queue the heart wrench of being

apart for even a moment

We traveled the desert in search of our reflection

we found it in a puddle in the bottom of a canyon

I told you I wanted to jump off the cliff 

I could see that you almost let me.

We shared belly laughs and friends and spit

and too many beers and I forgot what independence felt like

We fell up to our hips in snow, the same way we fell 

in love, drove to new places just for the sake of seeing 

another side of each other, lit on fire, it happened so fast

We fought because we were not thinking clearly

I still kissed girls in the bar in your home town

when you weren’t looking but we both knew you

could see right through me

You were building me a higher pedestal

I kept trying to tear it down, spent quiet moments

wondering how you got so crafty, so fucking sharp

I always seemed to catch my skin on your edge

You taught me how to do flips on the trampoline

and we made love on your parents couch

I remember the way the stars and the smoke made you melt

We slept together every night,

fell asleep nose to nose

knew love as a verb that moved us along

We kissed for the last time outside your favorite bar

I felt like I had never met you before, so much left to

learn before any sense could be made.

One day you forgot me completely

found another damsel in distress to play house with.

I almost prefer this ass backwards version better.

If I read our story backwards, it’s about how I unbroken your heart

and then we were happy till one day you forgot me forever.

Solid

I am learning how to treat my own wounds,

how to address the blood shed from the rock slides

(I know you’d like the sound despite the consequential erosion

You thought you could bury me in it.)

You are both, my rock and my hard place,

the thing that weighs the most on me

You are the dynamite that once blew a hole

right through the most stable parts of me

I have unexplained canyons now

you always did go out with a bang!

But these days you are more dust cloud

than explosion and I am thankful

when you settle enough to reflect 

on the blast and the damage done

It feels nice to memorialize the pieces

of our hearts we used as molotovs

I have watched us turn fire tornado in just

moments, in the middle of the Nevada desert

I have never met such a spontaneous

combustion, you are unpredictable

I’m learning love can not be prophesized 

the same way wild fires start in the middle of the night, 

we are spreading, in a glow that can be seen a hundred miles away

and we have built only a tinderbox foundation for ourselves, 

so this won’t take long.

Let them burn each other out,

we’ve been stuck in a sticky situation

where the love comes raining in

not like water but more like...lava

we see no safe ground to stand on

and can feel the heat radiating toward us

I’m learning not to melt so easily

cause right now I’m a fuckin ice cube in the desert

Theres no protecting me from the sun

Or from you.

But the wounds will heal and 

the dust will settle some day

I will put out all the “controlled burns”

you left crackling in the forest

because I want to see more growth

this year than destruction

You’re still the kid with a stolen lighter

throwing rocks at the cars on the freeway, 

I’m just the trick candle you couldn’t blow out.