Bonding Bad

The days of danger finding me
Smack dab in the middle of my manifesting success

Freshly showered after having done all the inner-work

Looking like chemistry
Though, by definition, cannot be

True to your name, Trauma

Your electric days that bound us


You were dangerous to us
“possessing, and full of”
Your “me” mentality
Experimenting with our experience
Traumatizing our time
Leaving behind
Ghosted train tracks
Coming ahead
Haunting this road
The unhallowed years-
Unending and never over
What peace?
What peace there might have been

danger and art

there are books in my bed
they remind and renew
the wealth of knowledge
and the hard wonder too

there are books at my feet
by my side, in my heart
i long to feel fear
of their danger and art

and this book in my hand
that is covered in dust 
it speaks to my soul
with a passion I trust


Where might I stand to be sheltered from safety

Danger is dancing on the horizon tonight and I dare you to say whether it’s dawn or twilight

I tell it to teach me the good trails to take

The Secret trails to take

Where, when I weave and travel as danger does now, others stare and plead “take me too”

And if they’ve truly electric in their veins, then I can

We’ll go and we’ll stay 

And we’ll dance 

We’ll teach and we’ll weave 

While we travel

Far East at First