Pathways flow dated following some windy tunnel of Great Escape

The ventures we dare not consider

The turns much too quick to contemplate

Splitsecond twists the kind that make you

forget about your headache

A purpose zeroes in in a gridlock closing in

no matter which way I choose to go

My entire beeline guided by the point piercing

the sky ahead blue in the strangest of colors

The hue of my sweater matching the royal fire

No star outshines this star when he decides

to say hello to all that he loves.

And here she is: faded broken down shutters

a bride in vine-stained white splashed by the

colors of the sky ahead, behind;

when I twirl she’s 360° all around me but the compass one

name on a map, one point on a satellite,

one run-down abandoned house looming into

the fading fire of the sunset,

silent hush God’s last whisper of farewell

before daylight takes over the darkness’s symphony.

And inside.


The more the momentum the more of the inertia every turn throws me into full certainty of my reflexes flying faster than ever and trusting light points to guide me but the twilight is all I need to see where I’m headed: The ever distant skyline of the Rockies.

Hurtling me to dwell forever in the brand new ideas that breakthrough like Plexiglas caught driving through an intersection that flashes me into an archive I have no access to causes me to ask the questions that bring them forward one by one: an endless potential outcome but always one trajectory.

The road is much too long for it not to lead you where you’re going when you’re ready to take the turn as it comes up we know life changes turn the world upside down but sometimes the escape is all you need to fly back forward to where you want to be, an expanding, looping reaction that becomes a trail of anecdotes and ‘huh, who knew’s tangling up in destiny. Every road is a right road if you’re curious to see where the winding ones will lead you, answers following you never knew would visit so soon; potential curves and hills and hazards that constantly keep you on your toes, and Lord knows you’re pumping the gas because the time doesn’t last but the distance can as long as you outrun the night.


Silly son you don’t have to be gone to become all that is,

Your fantastic treasure chases still live on in your chest,

It’s time to unravel the quest and remember what you came here to do

There is much, much more for you. Visible, indivisible,

Available to you every frame of every moment never stagnant

Always whitewater racing to the next best thing

You become what you are and you’re far, far behind. Tell you what,

I will give you everything if you let your past die.

I must give up everything I am not to become everything that I am.

I am not afraid. I am with you. I am that I am. I am eternal.

Death is not free. Life is free. Life is given, death is earned.

Life is the laughter in spring in unlikely persons meeting destiny

In life we find miracles and mysteries, questions and answers,

Always skipping to the next chapter to find out what happens next

There is no rest when life is good and tantalizing and sweet,

The dreams are good to slingshot you into the fantasies you want to

SEE in panoramic perceptions you didn’t know your eyes could give you

See Heaven and explore the playground you’ve been given

There is more than you can know. Now step on it. Let’s go.

Gotta grab my jacket.

Come as you are.


You were born to tell a story.

When I wake up, I start to play the game I was warned about in my dreams.

Afterimages glaze over my eyelids like under-developed photos of the streetlights last night, but today it’s the sunset framed by chemtrails and the crickets don’t console me anymore as hard as they try and as the world glows pink no one knows what I think in a blink everything goes dark and the view turns into stark outlines of vague buildings and trees and the sky is transformed into a sea of birds singing their last songs of tonight and I try to set the chemtrails on fire. My head is a whirlwind of unfulfilled desires and secret wishes to become something less tethered.

Some people go free like grandfather clocks that stop ticking, finally.

I think I’ll stay here for a while but that doesn’t mean I don’t want out; staring into the void until the world shifts to pulsing patterns is easier than listening to the messages that are trying to walk out of the posts on the street.

MAYBE I missed the biggest part but I simply feel that there’s something else there, mostly I stare to rip through the fabric of what I’m seeing to glean a deeper meaning but it’s still just silhouettes of trees and I’m still here, trying to crack mysteries like I crack my knuckles, and sometimes there’s nothing to be found out.

If you’re one that needs rules I suggest you don’t read this book.

We suggest you take a deeper look.

I considered catching my death today but that seemed too easy, no reason really and it made me feel so silly, to think I want to die when I haven’t even turned twenty-five and there are eighty-year-olds that still cry for their mothers– I’m just not sure whether another day will make the oppression dissipate– why do we follow stoplights when there’s the gas pedal to press that will make us fly farther than we’ve bothered to test?

I digress I just want to make it plain that we have choices to make whether or not there’s skyrocket stakes, sometimes the painful thought takes the cake before the one that gives us meaning comes clean to our psyche.

FRIENDS there’s more out there to see!

Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself so I don’t believe that I am going to live the rest of my life for the end purpose of turning to dust– the motes we breathe used to mean something to someone and that’s what terrifies me most– the ghosts of our past and present still linger with us and they’re not doing anything else but haunt us for a purpose we don’t KNOW where we go but I’m still willing to push the envelope and uncover the burning-fire-ashen mystery of our final destination.


And now we begin to play the game that the creators thought would never come to be.

Here we see the reality of nothingness and the insubstantiality of everything that is. Here we exemplify the dastardliness of daring to see something different than everyone else sees. Here is reality deconstructed and recreated and taken even further than it’s ever been. You don’t quite understand it yourself– but we will guide you along in a roundabout fashion.

Here we go.

Like attracts like, that’s how it’s been since the beginning of me, that’s who you are programmed to be. Nothing is coincidence, right? Well, what if you followed every subtle nuance of who you are– never missed a turn, never doubted a single impulse, feeling– what if you acted on everything  you wanted to do? What would you become? Who would you create? Death is the perception of leaving this world for another but it’s simply the becoming of everything. What do we constitute as death? What does death become? What if you were able to stay yourself even through death? Would you be the same? Would you turn into a million other things? Where would you be? Of course this is the definition of godliness but that’s not where we’re going with this. What if you became something other? What if you created something larger than that which is God? Is it possible? Is anything impossible? Can you, as an individual source of God transcend all that which it is?

Maybe, if you know how to do it.

Maybe, if you let yourself go.

Maybe, if you remember all that you are.

Keep up.

We are the expression of that which has never been, of that which is, of that which wants to be. We play in tandem with what is but you know we’re the alternate route, the road not taken.

Poor humans, lost in the stagnation of routine and complacency, repeating the same over and over again, so lost in that spiral that even what seems new is old beyond what you know. So, what then? How do we turn that road to the everlasting daydreams that man dares not pull entirely to consciousness?

We are new, we are old, we are you.

You have but to remember.