Sadie Rose

now i see the world in new ways, the trauma, the interconnected lines on this graph paper. the graphic novel and the credits and the seashore every time. and i see patterns, i see what overstimulation looks like on the sunny cold days where you only know half way through that the jacket is disastrous and too warm. I see what’s happening. the world is always on for a reason.

I still cry for open doors. I’m still knocking. I’m still often dismayed by what I’m met with. I look back and I see suffering and I look right now and I see suffering. there is what has not changed. there is what should not be but is. and i am also celebrating what i have noticed. this change, this growth - this different than what it was. it’s hopeful. we need that.

i mean, i know

all of the branches… all of the layers

I know about the structure, about the caving in, about the world and the way it was never supposed to be

I know you, I see what you see

what it is, what’s at stake

to be hid, but…

I back you up, I take you out

I call your name, I hold you now

you and i

you and i babe

I tell myself

again

each day

new words, packed with gentle sentiment

a new tradition

I am not grinning at your displeasure

just at my new, budding ability

Sometimes even I say,

With where you point your focus,

You can grow the landscapes,

Where you will find your frame,

So I will point my focus,

Just towards that idea,

When there are too many other realities,

To follow,

Too much data,

what are you for?

logic loads words

that were never meant for this

far past the beginning

think we started to stretch backwards again

writing words from a helicopter

a high mind drive

and for what Can be done without it.

perspective, but maybe less connected

always grateful for form

but your narrative is fragile

echos bounce off the table and I’m afraid

we don’t hear the same things during the night

which means

our rest does not oscillate with any sort of communion

your outside

is not my outside

at the right time, you’re sweet and sleepy

I’m up all night researching

there’s many a paradox here

I’m more concerned with the effects of this reality.

keep me strong

build my skin

point my focus

algorithms

blend my dreams, shore my seas, plant my feet

algorithms

indent my concentration, teach me patience, ruin the sport

it makes so much sense //

to offhandedly forget, direct, & intercept

// who we are really doing this for

down! with the chaos

or complete! in the wind

but wanting for a jacket isn’t the same as letting in

a coat that has potential

or a pool with just too few

through that time

and now

it’s easier to appreciate

the breath at the end of the poem

to say thank you

for the universe and for my beadspread

but still, still how

do I get to the place where I like it more

because it sounds like me?

but then where does it go?

you, you silly thing

that pushes strain and discontentment

an awful hurting

for that pure heart

where can I take you?

I can not give you to the wind

it would not be fair to the air

and I can not put you in the rain

water has done nothing but nourish me

I am tired and you ask me to move

all day, I move

I go places to keep records

steal them up and give the boxes their feasts

I could cry for a change of pace

I throw up my arms, pretend I am just stretching

I say

against all odds, every start-again-mini-trend

will add up, even

I will think these words

these ones I can ethically give to the world

I will throw them out there

and they will come back

with nothing but love.

in a green chair wind chime

motionless, but i still feel a bit sick

there are four levels here

once you say something, you strike it from the record

i don’t know why this kind of thing

brings a faster kind of energy

than does survival.