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there is a place where the dead live. it is in us. it is all around us. it is more than we can understand.
words about the wordless, like planets around the sun
April 20, 2024
when all material scatters and ashes amplify the only place that matters is by your side
there was more poetry in her shopping lists than in any of my rhymes
You can walk down a path you've gone down many times with the ghosts of all the people you've ever been.
it's there for all to see, and yet some people never see it
you have ghosts. where are they? are they so deep that the light cannot reach them? is there any such place?
all of our suffering is nothing more than resistance to this very moment
we're part of something bigger than any one of us. i just feel lucky to have been chosen.
flowers come from the ground, where their souls are trapped all winter
never stop trying to capture the uncapturable. it helps us all.
Where are you, caught up in the burden of it all
all we can do is keep moving forward
the warmth of the dead fire is in us, now
the multiplicity of detail in time and space is a conspiracy by big universe to make it impossible for us to understand everything
the promise of impending death is all around this place
we think we're so great. this is all just more history
the dead are among us
there isn't another side. it's all right here.
we've all taken a stone from the holiest place
there is no weight that can bury us beneath the ghost of all my guilt
to a place where no one's around
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