My passion sits like a house
Solidly built on gruesome land
The inside is beautiful
Full of meaning and every
Artifact is unique and special
But outside this beautiful, solid stead
Lies a strange, harsh and weary world
With winds beating down upon its structure and
Ground that trembles as you try to stand
There are quakes that break cracks in the foundation
Shattering the porcelain things so rare
And fires that threaten you from over yonder-
So close, it’s chilling, yet
Here we are
-still living.

My passion sits like a house
That’s moving
A double-wide that’s whizzing
Down the highway
With bugs
My orientation is disoriented
Which way is north?
Where is my future going?
Will my house be ever uprooted?
Will it find its way back to solid ground?
Furthermore, does solid ground exist?
Furthermore, what is the cost of a broken heart?
Furthermore, the thought of two steps forward,
One step back fills me up so fiercely with fears
Of dying without
Without
Without
Getting there.

Getting there.

“There” is my home/my passion.
“There” it is thriving.
“There” is everything
everything
everything
I’ve worked for
Still am working for
Can’t EVER stop working for
Because if I EVER stop working for
I CANNOT function in this life
Because unless you KNOW THIS
Unless you’ve always KNOWN THIS
IF YOU'VE NEVER KNOWN THIS THING
THIS FIRE that burns
This desire greater than ANY other
To make a dream come true
That to kill it would kill you
UNLESS YOU’VE KNOWN THIS
Then you can NEVER UNDERSTAND
That when my home/passion
Is uprooted
I feel like my insides are murdered
And though I know my own strength
And determination
The fallback hits me hard like bricks
And trickles down stones that hit my head with
“What if this is it?”
“What if this is it?
“What if this is it?”
And I KNOW THAT CANNOT BE
THAT NOTHING WITHIN MY POWER CAN
LET THIS BE IT
Because my CREATIVE FORCE is a DRIVER
On a CROSS THE UNIVERSE TRIP
And it doesn’t end until I
CEASE TO EXIST

quiet
and it is nice
simple
no music, no talk
meditative
working the 9-5
anonymous in the 
shoe warehouse
they speak Chinese around me
they are family
i am a pale outsider
working under them
i keep quiet and enjoy
being nobody
no phone, no break
no lunch, no need
for the first time in a while
i finally relax
put my focus on the
task, task, task
such beautiful silence
keeping company
slow the heart beat
hush the rush
a reprieve from the
pressure of fulfilling dreams
and then
they go home 
to each other
and their others
i to myself 
and my dogs
a tune, a story
perhaps silence again
and i don't get their lives
and they don't get mine
but we work side by side
don't bother trying to 
figure it out
just enjoy the quiet
and do the work
and pass our lives
punching clocks