My Headphones

My headphones are
an escape
from my thoughts
and all the surrounding distractions
of everyday life

My headphones are
the only way
I can
semi successfully
feign deafness

My headphones are
a place to
remember
every where
and when
I've ever been

My headphones are
a waking dream
that Salvador Dali
used to have,
where everyone's
a rhino

My headphones are
a way to
look occupied
as if,
my occupation
was to listen
to wonderful sounds

My headphones are
my best friend
when everyone else
seems unreasonable,
when my strut
needs a little more spice

My headphones are
broken, and now,
the bass is too loud,
and the vocals
are too soft,
the percussion
is uneven
and doesn't
count time no more

Stingrays

Watch out for
the stingrays
in the night,
they glide
swiftly
soundlessly
through the seas

They guard the waters,
from all intruding fiends
when the sun
sinks
below
the sea

You're not safe,
no,
You're not safe,
not at midnight,
not in the water

Watch out for
the stingrays,
they strike without warning,
they kill
without mercy
though they hold only
peace in their hearts
and love for the water

Perfect Spot

   I'm still looking for the perfect spot. A perfect spot where I can relax, and read, and write, and think. Trying to find it only makes me miss Ecuador more, where every step sparked a thought and every bench or hilltop was perfect for sitting and thinking about life. What kinds of thoughts were sparked you ask? While I was in Ecuador I put out somewhere between 35 and 40 posts between two blogs. I wrote some things that I am extremely proud of like "Postcards from Venus", "Just Ring the Bell", and "Into the Tall Grass". And a lot of the story ideas came to me from just walking around. What's surprising to me is that I found time enough to write anything down during our time there when in retrospect it seems as if we were so constantly busy with class and homework and trips and activities. Maybe what I miss most is the ability to take walks and have every turn take me some place I had never seen before.

  I want to climb to the top of a hill and sit until the sun goes down. I want to hike through the woods where the birdsong turns the air warm and friendly. I want to swim into that Great Lake, just to know that I still can. I want a fresh thought and a hand to hold. I'm gonna cook brunch of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, waffles, bacon and eggs, and biscuits and gravy. I'm gonna relearn to stand on my head.

  I'm looking for the perfect spot where its the first day of Spring and yet at the same time always Autumn. the air there tastes like cinnamon and pumpkin spice. There's always a familiar face just around the bend. There the future is never bleak.