Hugging Cedars With Shelyn Somani

I feel like I know you.
When I look at your smile, it feels like a smile that has been in my life for seventy years.. a smile that comforts the inside of my heart.
What was it, 6 hours? Less? How long did we walk through the cedar trees and look for feathers?
You found two, a gorgeous blue pair.
They're in my journal, next to the scrawl of your penned thoughts.
I am amazed by what I do not understand.
I am amazed by you..
by the way you hugged me when we met..
By your abrupt and radiant honesty.
I look into your face, and I want believe that we are eternal.
That life is just like we said. AMAZING.
Maybe we don't choose each other.. maybe life chooses us for us.
Maybe we knew each other as raindrops a thousand years ago.
I don't know.
I do know that when our paths parted that night,
I was glad for finding you.
Or maybe you found me?
Such a gorgeous creature.
Stay well my wild hearted, affectionate friend.
I am blessed for meeting you.



Andrew Tipton

Still

I stay awake because I want to see if our world is going to be here in the morning.
Stay up with me, till our sun makes his appearance,
till our sky melts apart,
till our legs are tired of walking,
till I work up the courage to kiss you.
We make sure to tie our shoe laces; on ordinary days.
to put on our Sherpa jackets, on ordinary days.
to take a photograph out and write good words on the backside; postcard style.
What did you need to hear?
While its still black outside, before the stars slowly wander away,
what is it that you wanted to say?
When you speak, I listen. Please. Speak. I never ask;
But. Your mouth creates storms that tear down my walls.
But. Your hands make me believe in silence.
In my head, I'm wondering if there are spaces to grow,
to take care of our bodies, to nourish our laughter
to decide that tomorrow morning, if it really does come,
will not be as amazing as this fire we are sitting beside tonight.
I want to believe that is true,
inside my vertebrae, where it keeps me upright.
inside my lungs, where it keeps me alive.
What is foolish?
I watch your eye lashes as sparks shoot up into the sky.
What is foolish?
We spend days just painting on rowboats; and each others palms.
What is foolish?
If we are truly going to die.
If this is all permanent like a dream.
What is foolish?




Andrew Tipton

Chase the Black Fox

Perhaps we must lose our devotedness and ardent thoughts,
before we can discover the splendid edges of ourself.
The Outlines.
Gifts for the empty, tucked away in lonely valleys.
Orange rock; my mind.
Owl's Clover for the eyes.
The secrets of a black fox.
This absence of sense.. a renaissance for sensuality.
Naked of intent.











Andrew Tipton

creationist

The world is shivering. Lean left. Quiver right.
Doorways lean and then straighten.
The shadows on the floor dance - yet nearly imperceptibly.
I exist myself, this natural and imposing case.
Absolute silence, absolute clarity, no spaces between the light on the hardwood floor and the sweat on my lips.
music flows out of the next room; calling to me.
Release; all of this is make believe. At least to me.
Am I the silk patchwork of a butterfly's cocoon.
Am I the teeth in the mouth of my mother.
Am I the scent of incense. - cedar.
I am all of these now; all of these are me.
As the world tacks slow, I watch myself come apart.
Not to pieces, not into tormented fragments,
but into something untouchable, limitless, astounding.
If I can look at these walls, and watch them quiver,
barely holding themselves together,
then why shouldn't also my fears quiver,
and the thoughts tucked away in my resolute chest.
All that must fall is one card, and the desperate act also falls.
Not disastrous; not hopelessly - when it falls, all is equal, and I can see what has always been just out of sight.
Truth, liberty,
sanity, peace,
life, death, wonder.




Andrew Tipton

Come Alive Let Your Self Breathe the Colors

What makes us come alive? What is it that unlocks our dreams, that unbuttons our jeans for us and takes us skinny dipping under a full moon?
What moves our souls? What makes our hearts wild crazy like galloping ponies? What do we adore about ourselves? What do we adore about each other.. about our days, and our late late nights and our sunrise mornings?
Do we know? Do we know ourselves well enough to come alive?

I have been watching my hands today, watching what they do.. have you ever watched your hands? They are beautiful!
Watch what they do, watch how they move, how they feel, how they know where to be at just the right moment - perfect. How they hold a pen, how they strum on an instrument, how they move firewood, how they stroke skin. I have had these hands for all my life, and I think that today is the first time I have really seen them.
Right now I am running my fingertips across my dark blue jeans.. mesmerized.
What a lucky person I am to have hands! Two of them!

How much else have I overlooked?
How many colors have I missed?
Blues, reds, yellows..
I think I know so much.. have answers and explanations.. in touch with my world.. and yet I do not even know my own hands!
Here they are.. mine this whole time.
I am coming alive.. breathing a world that keeps revealing itself inch by inch. Sensuous complexity.
When I look around, there is never a lack of bewilderment.. never a lack of color; it is simply drifting in my blind spot until I give it my focus.
There the whole time.. waiting for me to notice.
Notice today.




Andrew tipton

7 Layers Feet

Tuscaloosa

I watch from 2500 miles away.
I watch the world collapse around you. My home, my friends.
Watch the walls fall apart, fall down to pieces without a fight.
Wish I was stronger. Wish I had wings that could spread out like an eagle and save the ones you loved. The ones I never met.
I see the tears in your eyes, and some part of me wants to cry too.
Because we're living the same dream.
I feel human tonight. Brutal like a punch to the face.
You probably feel it too. That everything is still so fragile.
Life. Is so fragile.
That despite what we want to believe, there is no tomorrow.
We've just been making up beautiful, unpromised stories.
I paddled out to the center of the lake today.. silence.
Thought about how the sunshine felt on my shoulders, and how it must have felt on your shoulders a few days ago.
What matters tonight?
The same as yesterday?
I look at these photos of broken homes, and exhausted, shattered faces.. and I imagine myself there too.
Witnessing the destruction of all I posses.. how many seconds does it take?
Suddenly comprehending the sacredness of being alive.
What an incredible gift. Even for the least of us.

I hope you are resting tonight.. I hope at peace.
There is nothing between us but space. We're the same.
I hope I see you soon.





Andrew Tipton