Pastor's Kid

Teeming, I dream experimental to drudge through luggage left for me, 

yet to be claimed.

An item got lost in transit, which is no matter, because 

our problems always get delivered to our doorstep the following business day.

Tried to weigh it on the scale for shipment,

only to find no numerical value. 

Unquantifiable, apparently.

If you "know a Guy", it might ship out faster,

but either way they're all headed to the same location.

Hook, line, and sinker like a salesman,

sauntering about in your casual Friday dress.

Telling the world of another world you've gotten a sneak preview of.

A mere apology, I offer, if we don't seem interested.

Just got off a long flight and we're quite tired.

Does empathy or sympathy exist in this other world you speak of?

Is there plantlife?

Good soil?

Could I grow a garden?

All fair questions, that get answered abstractly

as if the the salesman ignored you question altogether.

I heard it across the hall, over seas, whispered on the train

from one city to the next.

Separation and segregation is what we grow up with

like "Facts of Life" or "Full House" or "Friends".

Even those are old now, but I never made an effort to change my bedding.
Wrapped myself up all insolent and "innocent" of such dissonance.

I embodied such an abstract answer as this, only when

I turned around to take the next flight out.

No innocence, just persaverence and education from hard knocks.

Grasping a concept only when I held my baggage with my own two hands.

Don't spit in my face to spout poetry from your self-righteous idealogy.

Never forget the human.

Never forget a face.

For the next one may be God.

Free Solo Me

Time is like a manmade pond.We're constantly fishing for something unnatural. 

Lost all breath on the way down, fully submerged with a fate resting upon this

here oxygen tank. I'd prefer to hold my breath thank you very much.

Drowning used to be my biggest fear.
Now it just appears to be a part of life.

Coming to shore as driftwood, forgotten off-shoots once a part of something marvelous.

Where has fear gotten me?

Look at the rock face bare its teeth, spitting out numbers, grades of difficulty.

Scale a ledge and all of a sudden am able to easily play a live set.

Fear has gotten me nowhere, neither has suppression of thought/feeling.

This is where it gets tricky...

It's like dad just wanting to have a catch again, but I refuse, because

I believe i've grown out of such things. Moved on. 

Claimed independent on my taxes.

If life after death meant we could only live off of rationed experience...

my tongue would go dry from lack of tears to supplement my thirsty soul.

In the moment I mistook the momentary bliss of silence.

Music hinges upon the rests.

There's plenty of fish in the sea, but mom keeps calling me extraordinary.

Filling the plate for a lifetime does not give me much to chew on.

SO I create bones to pick and pain like quid to meet my quota.

Hash out the irrational in the morning, for I know it will return by midday.

If we abuse every fibre of our being, and in return, are commended for it...

Where the hell do we stand?

Motionless, emotionless, Alex's eyes are transfixed by El Capitan. 

Rubble removed, along with the rope.

Fear and love awaken only to be suppressed and compressed

into an inaudible sound.

Live in fear of death, but love its scent.

We're so cushioned with life preservers now, there's no chance of drowning.

While we're at it, let's fill the water with chemicals to get high off of.

I am able to fly if I perceive there to be no pond.

However, once we're all floating, I no longer know how to reach you.

Alex appears light-years away, off in distant space. 

I too can relate with an emotionless gait. 

But each climber is quite different.

There is always a consequence, even if we acheive our dreams.