Take me to your mountain,
show me your white wonderland,
I want to fall in love again and again and again.

Take me to where you exist,
the places you'll never wonder if you'll stay
because you already made your mind up along the way.

I try to forget how it felt
before we ever said our good-byes.
I try to forget how it felt
before you plagued my life with lies.

But what is more consistent in my memory
is us lounging on your roof
while I contemplate how the blues in the skies
emphasized the detail of your eyes.

~I'm glad its inspiration that keeps me awake at night and dreams of imagination that awaken me in the morning. It is admiration for life that is my motivation.~

When it is inspiration that makes me an insomniac,
I must say I really do not mind at all
and I have realized instead of feeling tired
when I have to wake up and begin yet another busy, jampacked day,
four or five hours later,
I'm actually rejuvenated more than
if I had gone to sleep uninspired at, say, I don't know 11 o'clock.

I've found my dreams are more pleasant as well.
Hmm, someone should do a study on this.
I wonder if they have already...

I write poetry
to contemplate all that is
unknown to me.

I find my imagination
and the placement of an apostrophe
easier to understand than humanity.

I feel more comfortable
with grammatical syntax
than I do listening to a world's suffering soundtracks.

I can use my love of detail
to picture a human race that doesn't
thrive off making its members fail.

Writing makes me a child again,
foresees unpredictable circumstance,
motivates me to keep "going the distance"
brings me back to the times you held my hand,
reinvigorates my love for far lands
and all the gracious souls I met in Thailand.


Writing can make me old before my time
or infinitely young,
simultaneously,
in a single rhyme.

I need to elaborate detail in what I write,
I believe this is where I am slightly lacking.
There is this lovely lady I have the privilege of "following"
(now that tumblr saved my blogging "existence")
and now I get a deeper look into her work
and how it has advanced in huge strides I should say since high school;
and even in high school, I remember being blown away by this woman's words.

I can honestly say I have never met a female my age that writes so seamlessly eloquent as she does. I've been wondering why I don't feel like my writing tends to lean toward this type of eloquence. Not that I do not like the things I write because I absolutely love them; I would never write words I did not put my whole thought and heart into. But after reading and loving so much of this lady's work, it is definitely the detail. I think I tend to write too abstractly at times, in a way that I could understand what I was trying to say and I could explain it to someone else but when do I ever add footnotes to the things I write.

I need to simplify things.
Direct and connect with others more through universal experiences.
Strip my writing of individualism and add imagination.
Vivid descriptions.

I can't wait to embark on such a mission.
I can't even remember a time where I became critical of my writing, pin-pointed a type of structure I could work on to make it better.
I'm a child in a toy store the way I feel for words. :)

Instead, I contemplated you all night,
not how to make the familiarity all right.

If you can be silent and
still aim your opinion through your eyes,
you have passion;
an impenetrable insight.
But voice those opinions
and the world tends to label you
with a necessity to be right.

All I believe that matters
is that you feel safe inside your own skin
because it's within our own spirits
life never ceases to begin.

don't know where this came from but I am glad it did :)

Often we look at loving someone so much and them not having equal intensity in loving us or them losing the intensity in which they love us back as a failure. As something bad, terrible, depressing. As nearly life-ending especially after putting so much time and dedication into that person. Yet, after my years of experience, after trial and error, and after feeling success on a daily basis; I come to realize maybe it was not such a bad thing. In fact, I look back with an air of happiness for all the love that existed inside me. The love that rewarded me with the gift of internal sight. The love that rewards me with a gift of being able to see what is often overlooked; our truest identities, the person inside of us we meet when we work in the path of our greatest potentials. Of course, losing what you want will always yield terrible emotions but what one does not realize is that you love the person because you see how truly remarkable they can be. Or you've seen how truly remarkable they can be and, for some reason, it's slipping away from them. They do not want to be that incredible self anymore, the deity of their own being.

It's depressing to watch them un-evolve or simply not evolve at all into the person you look into their eyes and in their soul, you can see. In some of their actions, the person you can feel inside them. In their daily existence, the sliver of their true self you see them, at times, be. It's disturbing for you to watch this but no one ever stops to think, "aren't you the lucky one?" You become so caught up in trying to "help" them, to holding on tightly, to not letting those grains of sand slip through your fingers even though we all know sand belongs on the beach, that you miss how much you have with or without that person. You've seen them and not a single thing they ever do can take that away from you. Not just seen them as in you physically opened your eyes and they were there but you have seen the light within them, the truth within them, the beautiful, complete being we are all capable of striving towards. It's not just literally seeing them, it's feeling what they hold within them. It's seeing who they are in the here and now and beyond. It's their eternalness, the God within them, the Self that remains so deeply hidden within all of us; many times, the Self that is not even ever found.

Yet, that person is not ready or is afraid to see that being in themselves for whatever the reason. I could go on a tirade and list just some of the reasons, some of the reasons I've seen in several people over the course of my own experiences but the reasons have no implications in this conversation. They mean nothing. All anyone needs to know about them is that, obviously, they exist. Do not ever be in denial about their existence. Also that, you can not change them no matter how hard you try or have tried countless times over. You can search in an encyclopedia of explanations to come up with the best one to enlighten this person with but if they are not ready to transform their own life, they will not. Give them freedom, their life is not yours to bring to light especially when it interferes in your ability to see your own.

It's like gazing into the same mirror with someone but having completely different views of the images staring back at you. The person in love sees the truest image, the pure form of the person but that person cannot see it. They stare at themselves as if a fog is between them and the mirror. This fog are those reasons.

It's not a joyous occasion to go through this experience but it is not a failure. We need to see we got the most beautiful piece of the equation; life introduced us to another person's spirit, soul, deity, being. We need acceptance; we need to understand we are not them, we need to loosen our grip and let them do what they think they need to do to live. Maybe they'll learn, maybe they'll come around, maybe they will stop self-inflicting their development and, at some point, flourish again within it but, whatever they do, it is their decision alone, not that of anybody else. When you truly love someone, you can watch that grain of sand get distant and hope to God they once rise up again, even if it is not with your wave this time.

If they ever come around, believe in the miracle of their true self. If they don't, believe in it still; and be grateful, be humble, feel privileged above all that you were one person or one of the people that were given the gift of capacity to see that being inside them.

Here, There, and Then

There's a necessity in me
to grab a hold of we
and walk through a morning misty street,
to hold hands and try to match our feet
to the same beat,
to dance in the sun's heat,
to kiss each other at the exact spot snowflakes meet,
to jump in puddles, splish splash, on the concrete,
to be lost in our elaborate conceit*,
to defeat any of the world's deceit,
to intertwine ourselves on the beach, listen & feel complete,
to sway in an empty wave pool, hearing "I love you" on repeat
to know that love is an easy feat
when the passion remains so sweet.

*Conceit - I never realized one definition of conceit is actually imagination and, in this way, I use the word in this poem.

I have never read something so profoundly beautiful and perhaps accurate in my life...

http://xiaui.wordpress.com/2011/02/07/date-a-girl-who-reads/

I need to frame this as soon as humanly possible.

This is just about my favorite thing I have read in a long, long time.

I wish I could befriend more females who would see this article and fall in love with it because they've lived it for years as I did and have.

"Date a Girl Who Reads"

by Rosemarie Urquico

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

One of my Favorite Creative Couples

http://www.jodyfenton.com/

http://www.jodyfenton.com/gallery_list.php?n=8172

Her erotica photography; amazing :)
And the child portraits; so adorable.

And then there is her significant other.
Greg Gouwens. moe.'s professional photographer, who took Penelope and me under his wing and did a shoot for us, the first one like that I think he ever did, absolutely free of charge. The stupid hotel would have charged us ten bucks a photo but not this man; who way exceeded any "talent" that hotel had anyway. He spent an hour with us, taking over 500 photos of us in the Dominican Republic and giving us one of the sweetest experiences of our lives. Such a sweet man; I can't wait to cross paths with this couple at another moe. gathering.

View his photography
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1212266937#!/pages/G-2-Photography/113602402000271

Thanks for being so inspirational, you two!