Posts tagged frank ocean
take-off from tokyo

ascending

listening to frank sing

white ferrari

drinking jasmine tea,

watching


the ocean expands beneath me—

more blue than i’ve ever seen—

catches the light in my eyes,

turns them to soul-deep wellsprings

and my eyes—glistening—

surprise-blink feelings out of them,

streaming liquid gratitude


a tear

for existence


a tear

for the mystery of it


a tear

for the way i lack importance—

a weight lifted, perspective given

a “stick your head-in-the-clouds” prescription

we. are. so. insignificant. from up here


a tear

a truth:

i matter so much to a few of

those tiny specks on the ground

who likely aren’t thinking of me at this 4am hour

(but maybe dreaming)

30,000 feet below

where one touch of the hand is enough

to make your world explode

back into the stardust we’re made of


and so it’s here—

forehead smushed against the window of seat J, aisle 54—

that i think-whisper a new promise to myself:


carry your life with a lightness,

but give it permission


to fly

IMG_1057.JPG
lime green angels

i drove past

three angels sporting

lime green t-shirts

floating down the sidewalk 

in my peripheral

back-to-back against  

a grey, almost-rain-sky, so i

couldn't help but notice the

sweet (or i assumed) old lady with

a fanny pack and glasses

the second one I don't remember

just a flash of green

and the third--because how in the world were there three?--

a tall slender man

with shoulders slouched

and little to no facial expression at all

and i think of

Frank Ocean's Blonde album

and the potential martians I read about in the New York Time's app this morning

and melons

I think of Iris Apfel and imagine a festival

like Bonaroo but with elderly people

absolutely raging

meanwhile, a song is playing

the speakers in my car sing it and it spills out of my windows

"my mind's a ship that's going down"

and I wonder, in that moment, if we all relate

the lime green angels floating on the sidewalk

and me in a grey shirt

i never wear

For Frank

my ears are open
and i study the sound of your voice
          running through them

like water
like sky
like clouds
and now
i am        floating
both feet on the ground

a dance from left to right
the airwaves play
with melodies
unexpected and soothing

and my lungs
my lungs are full of
e x h a l e s
keeping time
the way your voice
echoes
"breathe here"
and "here"
and "here if you want to"
and "here if you'd like"

nothing touches me
and yet everything moves me
a world of possibility
expands between
the drums of my ears--
left and right and back again
and all around the inside
of my head

words paint the sky
scales of colors
vibrations that the eyes
cannot see
so i lean in
look with my ears
peeled

and you carry--
transport--me.