The Incompletion of Words

We tried, once.

Attempted an adjoining.

No one cared or cares.

It’s not a point.

THE point.

.

I never wanted it to mean anything.

It never has.

(I never wanted it to).

Never really thought it could.

It might.

It doesn’t.

It won’t.

Hasn’t.

.

The only point I perceive

Is our dismissal.

Evolution.

Another term we use for mortality.

.

Something hopeful.

Never helpful.

Just is.

The way of things.

.

I’m not here.

I’m not anywhere.

There are birds.

Ideas of Home

Hello everyone!  For whatever reason (I’m not always a bigger believer in a source for reason!), a few days ago between cargo-ing children to and fro from all the places they must be S. Carey’s song “We Fell” came through my stereo and the weather was Spring-ish cool and the air was nice and I was overwhelmed with feelings, I guess you’d call them, (sentiments?) of being home.  As I pulled in the drive the light struck the deteriorating garage and trampoline movingly, and I took a few shots that matched my feeling.  Then throughout the past days I’ve just been letting those feelings/sentiments/ideas swirl about in my head thinking they’d find an organization they wanted.  They didn’t.  So today I’m just going to post the notes I jotted down the way they tangled and fumbled out of me…In my mind they go with S. Carey’s song and always Mark Kozelek’s tunes (his music often is my home)…

oh, here are the lyrics to “We Fell”

The consonance of drone

And love sounds its own

Your arms wrapped around home

All the in-betweens

Lay so blue beside me

We fell

More than skin and bones

No we’re not alone

We fell

Like stones

Between

S. Carey

And here follow my photos and ramblings:

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Ideas of Home

(click to read text)

THANK YOU!