i n b e t w e e n

I n B e t w e e n D r e a m s

K. WOOD

1

u n t a n g l e d l o v e

i’ll give you my handbut let it be knowni love without tangles

love does not judgeor force to conformor change for expectations

it lives and breathes,but it’s more open and freethan any of us know

our lives may overlapbut we don't force this thingon any specific course,we live with our hearts

beating at the front of our chestsour love not containedby our objections,our past,

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our hurts,our pain.

it grows wildlythe more we give it permissionto do its own thing.

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K . W O O D

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w e d e f i n e o u r w o r l d s

we’re only blessed with portions of realityto dance and walk throughwe’re only offered a glimpse of this grand thing

it’s easy to look past,or look too deeplyinto all these forms.to get lost in the stress and rules of the maze.

yet,it’s equally as appealingto lose ourselves in the mystery—behind the mystery

never quite making contactwith the world outside our eyesfor fear we’ll become too badly bruisedor tampered with.

we must walk the fine line of being of the world,while not completely drowning in it.


5

n i g h t o w l

they say you should measure your life in sunriseswhen the morning sun greets youwhen you can attack the day with intensityafter you savor those first moments of light.

and i think that sounds beautiful,i truly do.

but those morning hours are for a different beastunless that morning sun is marking the endtucking me into the womb,before the fiery intensity of the day begins.

the night speaks to us differentlyin the shadows and darknesswe can find a different kind of light

the streets are silentand your mind can roam freethe world doesn’t charge onand it doesn’t ask of you.

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it doesn’t ping you,it doesn’t call on you,it is asleep.

in this slumberi find myself awake.i find myself questioning,i find myself reflecting,i find myself clear.

it’s a different sort of being awakei am not tiredit’s a wholly new daythere’s less buzzingthe cosmic consciousness is more availableand i feel more at peace.

i don’t seek out these hours,i cannot run from them.they find me,again and again.

they whisperand callthey wait for me to listen.

that’s why i askfor those who see the sunrise beckon the dayto watch it doubly

watch with extra love and intensityfor those tucked into their bedsfor those who cannot rise and greet the daynot because we’re lazy


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but because we live in different daysand the cycle that feeds some of us arethe stars, the moon, and the silence.

i’ll share these gifts with you,if you bring some of that sweet morning light my way.

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i d e n t i t y

we are not real.

our fragile identitiesbecome shatteredand move into new realmsevery single day.

hold fast to the truthwe are the the same in our differencesin our lovein our dreams

the glue that bonds us togetheris the knowledgethat no one actually knowswhat it meansto be a fucking human.

we are pure invention.


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a l i b e r a t e d m i n d

blinded by myths.the stories of a culturecan define or liberatebeing wrapped by a web of liesabout whatand who you are

are you infiniteor broken?belonging to a world not suited for you.

do you limitor does your thinking liberate?what you believeshatters your visioninto the impossibleor keeps you trapped in done before.

this thing is a messa dancea play focused around you

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try to find another whose worldaligns with yours—even the like-minded soulssee through a differentangled or colored lens.

value yourself.love yourselfyou matter

you’re going to die.so make this lifefucking beautiful.

excusesare lies.whatever you believebecomes the bedrock for your life.

choose wisely my friend.

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l e t b e a u t y k i l l y o u r s m a l l n e s s

i want you to diewithin these moments.

die to the old version of yourself,die to the fear.

let go of these things you think you areso you can truly be this person-thingyou’re supposed to be.

shine from this point,and live through this vehicle.let beauty kill your smallness.


13

b e y o n d w o r d s

i can’t explain what happenedit’s beyond wordsand my vocabulary is limitedand my sight is shortand there are a million things i wish to sayand want to do and make you see

still,standing next to youshoulders touchingseemed to communicate all these thingsat once.maybe one day i’ll find the wordsi’ll write them downand they will be beautiful.

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h e a r t s p e a k

my heart is cold and tiredweak, yet beating.

i haven’t been listening to you sweet oneand for that i am sorry

i cannot understand you these days:drop everything and run awaybut how can i run with no directionbut the sunset?

how can i trust?when trusting has left me broken before.will you show me how to fall in love with life again?i’ve forgotten this feeling.i know i am alive,but i don’t feel alive.

and as the breath flows in and outof my lungs,i make the promise


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to take your language seriously.

to stop pushing towards this aimless place of successand spend time nourishing our relationshipdecoding the fragments of your language.

doing my bestnot to leave you in piecesagain.

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t h e s m a l l t h i n g s t h a t m a k e u s b e a u t i f u l

i feel lonely a lot,often confused.

heart achingyet pounding.

thoughts distracted,focusing on nothing at once.

some things help:water,movement,biking,journaling,meditation,weights,laughing,tall trees,cut grass,

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hugs,reading,barefeet.

still:i often forget these things exist,and instead get caught upin all the gunky stuff.

tis’ life.

remember the small thingsthat help make us beautiful.


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s h a t t e r m e s o f t l y

i want to share my eyes and visionwith youi want to give you my mindand show you what i think love is.

i’m afraid when i give you these thingsyou’ll drop themand they will shatter.just like the rest.

it’s not that i mind being in pieces,i’m just really bad at cleaning upthe mess.

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s p e l l b o u n d b y t h i s l i f e

sitting outside in the perfect seat,watching the cars fly bya hundred journeysin five minutes,we must get there quicker,we must live with a rapid pulse,we must consume,chew,and digest this life.

we must live in peak states.without gaps in between,we must master,we must grow,a lot (most) of these ideasare not our own.

we borrow them from cultural manifestosof domination.

can we write a new one?


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where our lives aren’t defined by dollars,or notches,peak experiences,and countries travelled.

the quantification of lifeso we live for nothing more than aline item on a spreadsheet.

isn’t there so much more we don’t knowthat can keep us curiousand have our eyes spellbound by this life,where we can switch the masteraway from our headsand deep into our hearts.where we can appreciate a heartbeat,and truly love a life of freedom.

we are not free.i am not free.

i am on my way.will you join me?

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i w a n t t o l i v e f o r e v e r

i’m starting to become obsessedwith those moments between moments

before actions ariseyour thoughts take overa word is said.

an unoccupiedsilencethat holds all the beauty.

i want to live in theseand extend them into infinityi want to let these moments breathe

and live in the exhalebefore the next breath strikes.


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i f y o u ' r e a f r a i d , j u m p

find me amongst the drunken skysober as a birdwho first learned to flyby jumping too early out of the nest

the sinking feelingyou’ve made a mistakebefore the wind catchesyou

and you realizeyou were always born to fly.

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h o l y g r a i l

when the lights dim and your molecules start to wonderif the quest is the questor the rest of the journey is better off leftto the dead who wander with ghostly soulswith no untold futureor breath to behold.

the lights that live before usand beckon a new age.

can be seen as glimmers of the pastso surreal and strange

where pieces don’t fit.and it slips past the filterand maybe it’s delightand maybe it’s unexpected

because when we go


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into unseen sightsand unthought thoughts

we enter a new age of ourselvesoutdated concepts better be shelved.with all this might we forgeonwardto discover our plight

because all we can do,is rage againstthe closed walls of the night.


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a l l i w a n t t o d o i s g o b a c k i n t i m e a n d s a y t h e s e t h i n g s t oy o u

because time moves fastand soon we’ll be oldand soon youthwill be nothing but a mirror we glance inwondering how we got these wrinkles,asking why we did those things we didwondering if the mistakes we madewere really mistakes at all

i wish i paid attention to more thingsi wish i could remember how you werenot how i remember you to be.

i wish i could tell you how much of my heart you heldand how i wanted to give you all of itand how i didn’t mind that you broke itand how in this brokennessi found myself more.

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and how the sweet and angrytimes evaporated into mistthe fragmentary moments i still hold and cherish.

yet,you’re now nothing but a memory.and to see those eyes lookingupon me againwould be a dream.

sometimes,i like to think they’re there anywaysyou can see me smilingand that, that is enough.


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d a n c i n g w i t h i l l u s i o n

as the rain piles upi burrow deeper anddeeper

inside of myselfi look for the gentlenessi’ve hidden

the lines of truthi’ve etched overwith reason

theheart drawn pathi’ve buried the map

out of fearand desperationmaintainingthe idea that:i am separate.

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..yet

in a single soft instant you shatter me,not into piecesbut into wholenessand it’s herei can feel my heart beating again.


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i w a n t t h i s k i n d o f l o v e f o r y o u

from the depths of my hearti want to make the sea cry outyour name

and your wishesto only fall upon those earstender enoughto understand every syllable

it’s not your body that interests meneither your mindbut those heart songsthat only come alive underunder the dim shade of night.

howl with me.


33

l o s e y o u r s e l f t o f i n d y o u r s e l f

acknowledge this lifeand see these giftsbeckon,the rightful homeis always near.

in that tender rustle—when the trees andwind make love.

i am transported for a moment,beyond myself.

and it's in this losingi feel most likemyself.

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t o b e a k i d a g a i ngod damn,come and trip through time with me:

it’s those hints of nostalgiathat mix so wonderfullywith the present day feelingswhere you’re herebut sitting inside two worlds.

when both are beautifulit’s unbelievable,but your mind wants to pull you out of this trance

it wants you to sit back and waitand look at everything that's wrongand still needs to be done and accomplished.

and where did that damn openness go,and when did i become so closedand judgmental?

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and that youththat damn youthhow quicklywe want to change and grow out of itand put on our adult capsand our afraid to be human overcoats.

look at them,how childish?

more like:look at them.how wise.


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l u l l a b y o f c r e a t i o nsometimes it’s the darkness that tucks me in at nightthe shadows penetrate my dreamsand i cannot run,i can only surrender.

once and a soft whilei’m gently rocked to sleep by thiswarm and gentle light.the lullaby of creation.you are heldyou are alright.

whatever force decides to take the reignsis up to chancei try to bow to bothhowever ungraciously.

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i f o u n d t h e a n s w e r t o a l l m y p r o b l e m s

i think i’ve found the answer to all my problems,if only i could remember the thought—

that would make things easier.

i like to believe that insights do something,the spark,and that feeling,the million bolts swirling around your mind,awakening your spine, vessels, limbs.actually leaves a mark.

i like to believe the world holds more magic than I give it credit for,and i’m willing to see through my heart,which anticipates magicand is more in touch with this grand thing,than seeing through categorical boxesand lists,


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and logical analysis that equates to paralysis.

i’m willing to test out this other vision,if you’re willing to walk this mad road with me.

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b e i n g s t r o n g i s n o t s t r e n g t h

see,there’s this thing that wants to stop your heart from beatinga pull from the worldthat wants you to firm up.

am i wrongbeing an emotional malewhen i spillall this shit all over the place

i used to be ashamed and embarrassed,i used to never talk.to hold it all in,to judge the frailty.

be strong.

be strong,was always the mantra.


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but,there’s strength in weakness.there’s strength in confusion.can you ride out that storm?

the bashing seas of the unknown hold so much more weightbut, no one talks about themwe want to pretend life is nothing butglistening shores and sunny skies,the current swift,the destination on time.

but,there’s a big gap.

in the projected visionsof an ideal lifeand the accompanied mental noise.

and the dirty dirty world.now,i want to get dirtyi want to bleed,i want to spill all over this world.

let me be so big no container can hold me.i belong in the sky,and on this earth.

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l a u g h a t l i f e o r i t ' l l k i c k y o u r

the moment we fightis the moment we lose.

we slam shutall these beautiful thingsbecause difference is illuminatingand doesn’t always feel good.

but if you can look at itreally see it,

without all those murderous beliefsthen maybe we can find magici’m always lookingeven when I’ve come up empty for months.i have faith in miracles,and live for cosmic insightsmy mind occupies the space above my bodylost in a world I’ve created.

a s s


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sometimes my heart beats loud enoughthat I remember to listen,and I trust,but never fully.how can I fully trust?when i’ve felt abandonedand lost

are these the experiences I’ve needed to have.or, am i creating these maps,because all i have is this brokenpen that keeps skipping wordsand lines.

leaving me a puzzle to piece together.as i try to get better at reading the signs.and attempt to rememberto laugh at every step.

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r e a l i t y g o e s p o o f

a few words embedded within a moment of touchand we lose ourselves completelyswimming upstream through the pastand we can either drown in it,or become something else entirely.

in these moments we lose contact with ourselveswho do we become?feel your skin,the touch disseminates,it all evaporates.

reality goes poof.

in an ephemeral moment of spacing outwe become detached with who we are.we’re outside the noise,we’re immersed in something differentit resembles a dream

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and we confuse it as such.but,what if the dream fragments could be as realas the very thing we speak towhen we dance in the lightand feel ourselvesfully.

it is possible to live in that lightand to become something as free and as buoyant as the late fall leaf that floats backwards.

we can dream can't we.

n' feel into the things we want to attainand see them, and hear them.the future becomes wholly real in that instant.

this consciousness separates, you know it does.we are biological beasts, but the dancing melody that makes us human,is far beyond a ready comprehension.

let yourself dissolve,and become as bigas you'd dream to be.


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b e a u t y , s m a c k m e i n t h e f a c e

the world shifts and shakesin every instant.

what makes us so different?cling,hold things stagnant,resist.

it’s seems we’re built to do these things,wired to keep things the same.hold on,don’t open your eyes,it’ll be a new world when you open them.the thing about surrender is it’s the only thing that works.for joy,for work,

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for life,hell, for love.

surrender to all of it,this world will keep spinning withor without you.

but, that doesn’t mean sadness.instead it breeds life,what a gift to be bornto breatheand failand make things.

to try and float as beautifully as possible,to live inside this chaotic mess with a bit of peace.

this whole great big thing plows forward,the goal isn’t to keep up with it.

but to let beauty smack you in the faceagain and again.


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e m b o d y i n g p a r a d o xwith each grasping phrase we startto step into the waking realizationof how language can trap or liberate.

how the things we fight for can end up fighting us,and the moments we piss away,are the memories we’ll cherish.

right now is not a natural moment for us,it’s always the desire to time travel,to be not in this world,to be outside our bodiesand bones,our minds and time.

outside—seeking freedom.this is natural.

it takes the eloquent sounds of breaking glass


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to remind usthat the states we seekand constantly wish forare right now.

they can never be out there,only here.

let that sink in.

if you can find peace in your misery,then you’ve won.if the battle for happinessno longer becomes a battle or a wish,but stops altogether.

the pursuit of a thingalways entails pursuit.but,

enjoyment now can only lead to future enjoymentfor this world is made out of nothing morethan a collection of nows, shattered dreams, and a memorable past.

the only material elements are the nows.

let the others inform how we danceand we’ve lost.let the others speak to possibilitiesand we’ve failed.

it’s the realization that freedom,can only be felt with constraint.

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power can only be seen,when limits to it are active.love is only noticed,when we jump outside ourselvesand see the emanation of another.

it’s the conflicting dream of paradoxthat shines the light on this thing.it’s the way that watching deathsparks the dormant idea of life.


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t h e c i t y e n g i n e r o a r e d

the engine of a city roareda million thoughts dancing with no one to say themwe held it in,cowered our headsand obeyedthe lines were there,so we stayed inside these wishes.

the boundaries were too tough to breakliving within these wallswe gave up.

how’s that for a tombstone.a touch of distracted culture,if we become what we consume thenwe’re nothing more than fragments.

a bunch of walking headlines

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and surface level glimpses into who we really are.that is:if we are what we consume.

if we aren’t then maybe we have a chancea great big breath for something greater.

we can shine our human lights brighttheir cracks and all.and move beyond this fragmentary universeand see that masquerading as a mask,is empty indeed.

give me that rare,full person.

give me that smile,and chipped tooth.

give me that love,that breaks you, because it’s the wrong kind.

give me that flavor of boredom,where reality really shines though.

within all this mass abbreviationthere has to be something real.within these million lines of prosethere has to be substance, right?


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g e n e r a t i o n a l s e e d sin honorof what feeds usand keeps us alive

what allows us to keep movingand this wholelove thing to continue to beat

we run our faucets all over the streetand the warsthe wars, i know they will come

the things we old preciouswe just let them runinside and outsidethis chaos brings

it always comes down to the simpler thingsturn on your tap

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joy comes outfor how much longeri do not know

i hope we can sowon this hopeand plant new seedsand realizethat our lives mustbe lived by generational needs.


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d e s t r o y t h e s t a t u s q u ois the concern for controlthat we’ll all sprawl into madness,we’ll lose trackof the goals and wishesthat keep this great cultural beast beating.

that we’ll drop outand tune into something else.a different channel.a new world.

we give birth to new worlds daily,we just deny their appearanceand sheer reality.

to contradict is to be humaneven our sages and gurus were assholes.

mess brings forth life,

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order is imposed rule,trying to bring sense to the chaos.gather up all the matterand put it in straight rowsthat will help me sleep.

agree to the motivesand values of how life’s been done,and appreciation is the result

thank you for playing the gamehow we told you to play,thank you for acting in accordance with law,tradition,and past occurrence.thank you for keeping the boundaries where they lie.

thank you for refusing to draw new lines in the sand,thank you for refusing to question,thank you for being satisfied with platitude rich answers.

thank you for saying no to life,and saying yes to us.

we love you.

sincerely,the way things have always been.


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p l e a s e , k e e p y o u r h e a r t o p e ni know the world threatens to solidify your heart and turn this beating, pulsing, great big thing, into stone.

i know you’ve been hurt.

i know you’ve been discarded.

put upon.abused,taken advantage of.hurt,betrayed.

lied to—in the name of love.

i know you’ve lovedwithout anything in return.i know you’ve given your heart away,and have walked miles


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to get it backbroken and bruised.here’s the thing:we think of our heartsas vulnerable and weak.

a tiny, beating pulsing thingthat leads us astray.

it makes us weep at tender momentsand fall madly off track in the wrong directions.

i know you’d rather discard your heartand live in the sepia toned world.

shelter and hide yourselffrom its grand mess.

but, life is not lifewithout this beating fragrant thing.

without its wisheswe merely dry up.

we become hardenedand weak.

we become fragile,for the tiniest whims of the world threaten to break us.

we become the very thingwe’ve trying to run from.

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no matter the pain,you can still love.no matter your past,you can still love.

even if that person you desperately want to love,is the person reading this right now.

i ask of you.

please,keep your heart open.

do not close.


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a b e t t e r h u m a nit’s not the achievers who inspire me.

i find inspiration lurking in the unlikely places.

my life is easyand privilegedeven the darkness I’ve lived throughholds nothingto the shadowed mountains others had to climb.

those who’ve overcome unthinkable traumas,or are amidst grief and pain,and still manage to wake each day.

these are the stories and people who give us hope,not those who’ve climbed to the highest heights.

but those who’ve been to the lowest lows,tasted the depths,

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and still manage to stand proudextend a helping handa forced smile, their last dollar.

the givers that embodywe’re all in this togetherdown to their bones.

these are the markers,of a better human than myself.


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r i g h t f u c k i n g n o wright now life is as real as it’s ever going to getright fucking now,

life is not reserved for the futurewhen everything is in orderit’s not reserved for those moments when we finally escapeour struggles and obligations

it dances by our side as we move our sober limbsit breathes through us with shallow and anxious breathsit finds us when we’re lost inside our own loneliness.

it’s always here,it’s never there.

so,stop pretending life will finally happen


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sometime in the futurewhen your dreams and goals are realizedit will never happen there.it can only happen here.

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q u i e t r e b e l l i o nmaybe it’s just me, but i’m for the simpler path.i don’t need all this aggression and shouting.i’m for the gentle road,the one that’s adventurous in its subtleties,and quiet in its rebellion

the one that doesn’t lead with force,but inspires with a smile.the one that doesn’t rush to its goal,but overly enjoys the burden of the journey.


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i s t h e r e r o o m f o r t h e p o e t ?when your soul is too sensitive for the noisefor the chaosbut, you still cravethe same dangerous beast of chaosyou run from.

where most things don’t make senseyou see the worldand privy it for what it isa nonsensical masterpiece.

where the lines that guide youare different from the rulesyou follow.

and your path looks like a nightmareaccidentally blossomedinto a waking dream.

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where each step provides a deep blue claritymore readily understoodas confusion.

where a flower isn’t just a flowera skinned kneea blind tear.

where being heldmeans morethan a moment of ecstasy.

when a body and dark eyeslock with your souland give you a head nod.

where the moments that meanan entire universe to youare merely glossed overnot even getting the grace of a folded page.where you’re a disastrous embodimentof consequencesmistakesbeautyand the pursuit of love.

can ideals kill you?

can love crack you open wide enoughto become the universe?

is there room for the poet?


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t h e g r e a t b i g m y t h o f b e i n g h u m a nwe assume we’re nothing more than bags of boneswrapped in bodies of flesh sometimes twinkling eyeswith brains that overthink.

alone on this rockbumping into strangerscursing and lovingcreating and settling we go through this thingobeying rules and cultural cuessometimes stretching, often rebelling.

but, there’s a tiny flaw keeping us trapped—we are not who we think we are.

see those little stars up there,


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that wind that lifts you off your feet.yeah, that’s you.beyond the elements we can feelour roots stretch beyond our human ancestors n’ flirt with the very materials that make up this universe.

we only gain a fraction when we stare into the spotted night’s sky.our small problems seem to hold so much weight.but, when we lose focus. Look up.

see yourself as a tiny cosmic entity,dancing along with the rest of it.

we’re smaller and greater than we imagine.

j o i n t h e p a r t y .i truly want to thank you for taking the time to read these poems. they mean a lot to me, and i hope they've been good to you.

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i n b e t w e e n

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