sit seiza.
the neck back so far the ears hurt.
strong eyes, warm feet, cool head.
it’s all about staying young and warm.
i need to move.

smoke and her lips. soft billows.
there’s a cat’s face on her t-shirt.
The sandwich in front of her has whole grain bread and sprouts.
i read somewhere that you’re not supposed to smoke and eat at the same time, and that it’s a cultural custom some places.
she sips Italian soda through a straw.

it’s good to be alive.
flowers fall from trees.
girls with pretty eyes and jeans crafted by artistes.
summer wind.

I bear the language of the romantics.
I have a full heart and empty pockets.
I can appear awesome as a phantom.
I believe there are colors I have not seen.
I’ve spent eleven lives
Trying to perfect the spontaneous sonnet.
I’ve Seen my silver soul; a speck on the mirror.
“Being in selfless one-ness
With the such-ness
That is Tathagatahood,
So is everybody else
Lost with you
In that bright Sea
Of non-personality.”
– Kerouac, 194th Chorus

“This tree just told me
See eternity
Is the other side
Of the other part
Of your mind
That you ignore
Because you want to”
-Kerouac, 156th Chorus

there’s health and strength.
each day is a thing of wonder.
there is peace within a center
it’s reflections becomes stronger, clearer, a thing more focused.
the world about you takes the form this.
all is beauty. harmonious. well.

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