Caleb Orion

And I sit here
And a window reads
Everything is going to be alright

and I can feel a cool wind
And even though it is boiling hot in here
I shiver a little bit
And I want to sleep
But I can’t.
. I can’t
Everything is going to be alright

While dust rises
And embers burn
And people are dying across the world
Somewhere a young child
with his distended
Stomach
Everything is going to be alright

I don’t need you
to Make me feel better
but every second that
I secretly miss her
And also the days
I hate her more than anyone could know
Everything is going to be alright

Somehow the blade
is Thinner than I remember
and I swallow you whole
Chomping your dream to
bits.
. Everything
. Is
. Going
To be alright

?

There is
What I want to do
What I should do
What I shouldn’t do
And what I need to do
And I know that
Either/any/all/many
Of these options would
Be pleasing to me

But overall
What I actually may
End up doing is not
Any of these things
Or at least, not all
Of them.
I may end up just doing
One,
And at least that will
Be enough

Eventually I may come
To find whether that
I have made the right
Out of all the possible
Or that maybe I have
Made the wrong out of all
The possible.

Oh well,
This decision will
Affect everything, and
I accept that responsibility.
It is My future,
My past,
And My present.
And that decision,
This decision,
That need and desire
This which will be fulfilled
And that which won’t.

These moments are mine
My moments
I am my own God.

Here is your face
Solid and soft
I’ll cradle it in my
Fingers, and sorry
About my rough hands
They work more than
You might think.

Here is your grip
Strong and gentle
And I’ll slip
My fingers through yours
And the cracks in my
palm will match
Yours.

Here is your love
Good and bad
It makes you you
You know.
And I’ll take it.

You’re like a “wind in the willows” kind of person
And by that I mean
Windy, breezy, easy,
(like easy-going)
but not sleazy(ZZYY)
And with willows you kind of like to just
Hang out
And maybe you’re often found near a river … — …
Where moles ride by in boats, making friends,
With toads. (But not in moats, this ain’t no rhyme time)
Do you make friends with toads?

Here’s the second half of the poem:
You’ve got it made, like really made
Washing-machine-swisher-made, like
Koolaid-cool like Dennis Quaid
Get the switch? It’s a bait for your mind,
So don’t forget, yeah yeah yeah!
And here’s a kicker,
I won’t drop oil in your river,
So sopping soaked seals, struggling to breathe,
They’ll be safe, you’re safe, safe like
Milk
Unless someone’s allergic, then it’s not safe.
So, that’s probably a bad
Simile.

Ok, here’s the third half:
Just kidding, the poem ends
Here.
^ The poem ended up there.

‘Twas written long ago in ancient tongues,
That buried deep, ten thousand ladder rungs,
There sits the dusty widow’s single tear,

Guarded from all trespassers who near,
By a beast with eyes the deepest black,
If you cherish life you’d best turn back,

But forward someone soon will charge,
And past the beast a room so large,
Covered in diamonds of each hue,

Enter slowly, for if you,
Handle any diamond there,
With your fingers laying bare,

You will set the gas on,
So keep walking along,
Through the diamond room and,

Into some ruined,
Hall where you will climb,
To a door by vine,

In some small space,
Webs catch your face,
At the exit,

You’ll see it,
On a stand,
With your hand,

Take hold,
Be bold,
Then go,

Low,
Run!
Run!

Do you remember
What we said that day
That cold cold
Day
of Hot Hot
summer
When the sand crept
Beneath our toes
and the Children laughed
and I frowned and
Tried not to cry
but there was
A huge Pain
in my stomach that felt like
Train Wrecks
and I couldn’t hold my food
Down
Do you Remember
What we said that day
What we said about
us
I do
I remember the
Fried Dough
I remember the
Park
the
rocks I hit
my Head on
and wishing I were dead
Every second of that day
Wanting to let go
Of all that clam chowder
I tried to eat
The clam chowder sometimes
Spits back up at me
Even though it’s
Long digested
Its reminder
Is still
Physically
There
Waiting to
Come back
Up
When I will let it.

The denizens
Two hours
Light brunch and Cowards
I won’t ask you
But I wish I had,
Correction:
I wish I did that once.

And never again, because
While longing takes me this far
This trek
And this path
What even matters?

Slip dance and trick lights
And
And
And
And what else?

There is no else, and perhaps
At this moment, where looking
Is deceiving
No one else.

Trust me I looked.
I glanced
Had my fair share
WHERE?

And there we go again
Missing the path
and lost in ineptitude
FOR SURE
I wish I could go back
and actually COMMENT
this tide lightly lied

And mild cries
Goodnight?

Pleasure to know
Pleasure to see again.
Visuals.
Please