Tag Archives: Questions


Do you think the rain is the universe letting our souls cry when we can’t?

Do you wonder if music is our hearts reaching out to connect?

Do you ever listen to the darkness waiting for an answer?


Do you ask the wind to carry messages of paper imagination to the places we forget?

Do you think the material we touch is illusionary?

Do you wonder if breath is breathing us?

Do you ever sing words without sound hoping someone will still hear you?


Do you…  Do you…

Do you dream of a life you have never lived?

and wonder if it is still possible?

I do…  I definitely do.


Where do we go

Where do we go from neglect
What language do we speak when anger steals our voice
Who do we become when even our shadow is a stranger
When will we embrace hope if even hope looks like it will bite
Why does silence follow the question and the lonely hours afterwards a willful forget

Why I am not religious

Confinement wages war against the contents of wings

seeking to direct the will of the sun and moon

as if in acknowledging nature subservient to ink

it will be made true. 

But making true does not truth make.

Thus the only contemplation of caligraphication

is in the contents of my heart where 

the determination of the Universe is between 

only us and the only writing of truth

is in the bluebird singing and 

the composition of storms. 

A girl on a step

She has not

wandered yet into

the world of unwanted


or unwepted

She sits confidently

on the steps and

leans her chin into palm

so nonchalantly even the wind

sighs in her contentment

her youthful ability to see the world

just as it is at this moment

without prejudice

without care

without a hint of

overlapping layers

photoshoped and

pristine in their creation


is a girl

sitting on a step

looking out at the grass


why to a hundred

questions she’ll

one day answer

but for now

is just the envy

of the aged

and the curiosity of

passing ants lingering

near her shoe.

All these questions

All these questions

all these silly questions

who are you and

why am I?

Do I get any answers

in this merriland

merrigo round?

when the

the sound of your breathing

is the only thing making sense

through this red shoe wearing

rainbow eating lense

of love wanting


where the only thing hiding

is the dreams of my youth

and the addiction

to the belief in you.

And you asked…

where are we going…

where are we going…


which I


All these questions!

All these silly questions

who are you and

why am I?

Do I get any answers

in this merriland

merrigo round?


The sound of your walking

is the only thing that makes sense

in this Alice world of wonder

raincoat sheding

digital digesting compass

of where we are heading

wrong direction world

keep leading me

down the stoney path

of my old age

where my hand is

laying cold

in the dream of you.

And you asked me

when will we be leaving?

All these questions!

All these silly questions

who are you… and why am I?

Where are we going…

what are we doing…

when will we get back…

why are we here

and can we change it?

are we ever going to get through

this dreamlike moment of


Will we ever keep the boots

from closed eyes

of innocense and

the condemed visages

of those who turn away?

will we… will we

ever answer

these questions

these silly questions…

and you asked me…