Cliche Juice

home is where the heart and my heart is
out travelling, up into the wild blue yonder
wingless, prayerful that this miracle of flight
will not end....just yet....

also at home, with you on the grounded
wherever you might be at the moment
grounded....
like a highschooler, like a wire, a bird and a wire
feet on the ground and my heart is in my throat now
now in my feet..lawfully descending with gravity
to the lower, lowest, most sought after
most beautifully bound, home
aspirations involve respirations...
we reach for the stars
wondering what we are

but my 'REASON' has been found
by finding you and looking down
and it's there...
not in the stars of fantasized worlds...
fifth dimensions...
six sense...
holy parallel potentates of potentialities
that my feet will trace
their slow as history itself dance
a walking calligraphy so subtle that it will take 40 years
and more and a view from above
with an impersonal remove and lofty attachment

i hope to barely fall
at the mythical two-backed beast, ittinerant statics
like the one i enjoy up here
in the well attended air
to read the cursive strokes of my aggregate footsteps
like some fairy tale dissolve, "once upon a time"
or.............
twice written on our little page of earth
where our home may be
will be...
wherever we happen to be....

*love this poem so much...it's one of my favourite poem...this poem written by my fav actor,david duchovny aka mulder...

It's Me,