to the pistoli.all good sonspray they becometheir fathersii.in the morningyou were rougherthan i likedi asked you to shaveand you asked me whyand i confessedi was scaredi'd lost youyou were an idolto pleaseand a heroto scraped kneesand the terrorbehind the backstopdon't let me fail him,i criediii.by noonyour shadowhad shrunki felt more a manand you let me flyand i testedthe stairsthat would cross youyou too were a manwho choseyour lifeand woesand my heart shatteredas it found youmortaldon't tell me i've failed him,i criediv.now my sonfeels my chinand tells meto shaveand my feetstand firmin a shadehardly lessenedthe lessonsof stubbleand scarsreveal truth:your fearsand burdensand loveare minev.and all good fatherspray their sonsbecome more
List of favorite things. drinking from green glass bottles. experiencing the change of seasons. growing my beard. touching my beard. looking at the female form. occupying the male form. pulling on gloves. peeling sunburnt skin. walking through an empty town late at night. painting in watercolor. reading until I fall asleep. leaving christmas lights up all year. watching good movies and shows. looking at my green walls at different times of day, in different light. doodling. feeding and petting fritz the cat. playing with fritz the cat. fritz the cat. reading Kurt Vonnegut. waking up not having to pee. staying up all night. writing poems. feeling inspired. being happy. going for walks. remembering as much as i can. thinking. watching my thoughts spread over what i see. having interesting ideas to explore.
Black holeIf chronicles of every yearin human history were amassedin a single heap:the spiral-bound calendars,the cylindrical scrolls,the stone tablets,the empirical frescoes,the ceramic jarsof thousand-year old honey,the primeval notches in petrified wood,the phases of moon painted onto stone,the delicate bones of twelve miscarriedinfants mapping the zodiac,the animal guts in the mazeof each priest's psyche,the chronicles of silencebetween wars,the internet's roleas second-moon,the digital coding of 365 imagesof every woman's face--the collected mass would collapseso dramaticallythat the solar system would topplehead-firstand be swallowed by the flawlessemptinesswe havemade.
Mirrors in my mindYour emotions have been living in your skin for too long. Like a timid child, the stories you long to share with the world hide behind you, full of fear and empty hope. You know who is aware of the inner hurricane - they have seen the child with clenched fists peeking through the windows of your soul from afar. Some of them fled, yet others chose to stay and calm the storms burning within you.But it is not about revealing yourself to one soul - it is so much more than sitting across a specialist and spitting out all the sentences you don't understand. One day the child hiding behind you will take a step to the right and everyone passing by will marvel at all it possesses.In that extraordinary moment you will realise that the disaster inside of you - all those feelings forming intricate patterns in your cells - was not a disaster at all. You will understand that what you once feared has become your most tremendous strength. The child you hid for so long will take your hand and togethe
Pencil & white Gel Pen on Bristol Board16.5x11.75 inches | 42x29.7 cmSketch of what Leonardo da Vinci would have looked like as a young man, based on 15th century sources.[ Original available ]