Life never felt so good

I don’t remember feeling this way
every morning and night, every day
It’s strange, how the strain on my brain has been lifted
The present has become a gift that bring uniqueness

I never got this high on drugs consistently
there was always a perpetual drop as was its propensity
now there is love and beauty in every second of existence’s intensity,

People call me, we talk recovery
we talk of spiritual malady,
we take stock of the daily insanity
and bring compassion to reality with a remedy

I wake before the alarm,
the cool calm streets are charming
my small empty garden is calling for farming
the leaves need sweeping
I grieve for the beloved’s teachings

For a thousand years I have been knocking
only to find I was knocking from the inside
The design is to hold everything inside
The plan is to break out of doubt to clarity

The Buddhist say the mind is not a mirror that needs cleaning
it is essentially void and pure so how could dust be collecting?

never before have I felt power get much higher
sever the separation of pleasure and desire
water, earth, wind and fire
with this energy how could we tire?
pry the will open like a fence with barbwire
This serenity can be acquired
by wearing an entire attire as an amplifier

Write everyday, for yourself

Write everyday, for yourself
almost as quickly as you can.
My hand has forgotten the pen, its old best friend
The keyboard has me bored
The screen has turned obscene, with constant flashing and flickering.
Remember our journey’s in journals?
Smoke filled rooms of intoxicated slumber
Creativity sparked by force,
A demand enforced by brute strength,
now the funnels open calmly.

Pour your love into this world,
like a father figure raising a boy or girl,
the future’s options unfold like a flower
of countless pedals,
take time to count each one,
the moment will eventually come,
when enough is enough,
after the tough stuff what else could be this rough?

A machine

I am a machine,
Living a life that is sober and clean,
I wake up at 4:15,

Meditation gets me to my concentration,
starting the daily ritual of poetry creation,
my friend is sending me his writings, life is getting exciting,
the woman I am seeing if inviting

Eyes are windows to the soul
Rise and find the lows and highs that encompass your whole
Find the compass to direct the pull
Full of energy needs depleting,
when empty come back for more poetry reading.

I miss this feeling,
I miss her lips, this weekend I will take a trip
Silence reminds me why I exist,
not everything will fit, nor will everything have a place to submit

Seasons change, things rearrange and my goals never stay the same,
never has life had this kind of range, with the real estate that my brain claims.

Experimentation, like a scientist with new devices of appliances.
I watch the Kaizen and then tell a friend
about how things never end
When do we take the time to imagine and pretend

For me it’s the morning when I feel zen,
most are sleeping in, but I feel power from within,
waiting to awaken the machine of my personal invention

Recovery

Spent 10 years living in doubt and fear
addicted to one or another
finally feeling free as water out the gutter
making small ponds into bigger rivers, bigger desires
mother didn’t raise no sucker
father gave us style, so smiling smooth as butter
the old years cannot be recovered

so basically starting over
rediscovering what is left, all together
my brother won’t see eye to eye
so he says ‘leave’ before I can say goodbye
at least inside I can say I tried

True friends understand to the core
even when changing your behavior
those that can’t feel your vibe anymore
may not be what your stride is looking for
therefore, parting ways is heavy hearts and long days

Clarity, from out the cloudy haze is a maze thing
it takes directions to make progression a well spring

everyday is a count down to anything and everything
sober weeks looks for years to speak with wings
moreover
new skills, few techniques can raise weak will
as high as the peaks that now are despised as a disguise
for the lows compose the other side we would deny unjustified

realizing how to recognize and standardize our special eyes
especially when trying specialize in staying wise to the lies
Recovery is how we optimize in otherwise

Back of the mind

Journeys of a thousand steps first took a few
Knocking for a hundred years only to find its right here
You don’t know know what you have till it’s gone and disappeared

Learning from mentors and peers
students, teachers and leaders who path our vessel into piers
turn the gears, months turn into years
I used to always need a joint and beer after working the cashier
She’s gone but I still see many others
Learning how to be a better brother, lover, and discoverer
The treasures are not all already found
put my pressure on making more beautiful sounds
in daily convo, internet forums and blog playgrounds
Bound to stick to something strong enough to tough a rebound
We are on a rise, quick grab on to the tide
In the back of the mind
Memories of a connection to a person that was sublime
intimate
Specifically intricate
measured closeness & tightly knit
Until then staying wrapped in a tool kit
Timely rhymes designed with whit and grit
Fulfilling disciplines so goals commit to stick

Miles

The first mile is the most difficult
then the body adapts
muscles stretch and breath retracts
today hit my max,
topped at 4.5
I bet next time I make it alive at 5
a 10K in 3 weeks is about 6.2
hopefully I can use the same shoes

I can rap longer than I can run
maybe hitting the track can reverse what’s done
Some come from a tradition of attrition
The vibe in my tribe is like Phife Dog in ‘Electric Relaxation’
mental participation
One found one and other
to make another takes the discipline of a lover
concentration to be steady as ever
ready to relate the story like a reporter
all-ready, right like insight from a trainspotter
Modify the invention farther
Do not be fooled and confused
as all the tools can now be used to amuse.

Miles before we sleep
Wild bluebonnets smell fill the street
knowing when the journey is complete