SOMEWHERE NEAR TAPACHULA from stefan hunt on Vimeo.

Sometimes everything that stirs you hits you all at once and you know that there is meaning and hope in every single moment of your life. Check out their blog it is amazing. Just a couple of Aussies who had the choice to leave or to meet need at its head. And also it's great to see indie kids who have recognised that you can actually take those creative arts and use them to help a kid who is a little bit stuck and a little bit lost in Mexico town http://goodcheer.tumblr.com/

Sidewalk Pickups

I found everything I ever needed
on the side of the road,
all the things that once people needed
got superceded
by the time I set eyes on a them


Were you shining when inside
you sat wide eyed, used, and prized?

Now, when under late candle light I watch you
I'm glad for your round rusted edges,
charmed and warmed, still perfectly formed
delicious and worn.

When they start to trade the faded
I'll be 'round
I'll be 'round to collect you

Wait out front
I'll bring the truck
I'll be 'round to collect you

Never asked for you to be shiny new
just asked for all the pieces.

I found everything I ever needed
on the side of the road
I'll be round,
I'm coming down
I'll be 'round to collect you

Laughter spills like wine...

This is an experiment in stream of conscious writing. Alot of writers use it to get to the core of what they want to say...the idea is to just write whatever pops into that head of yours and not to stop til your hand gets tired. It doesn't need to have flow, it is a very loose prose.

Laughter spills like wine and we drown in fun. I'm a particle of truth and I dissipate in this house of lies. At the bar I buy a schooner of I-don't-care-anymore and I wonder who I have become and where to find the peace of all the pieces of this life. I wrinkle in the night and wake with sleep queued up before me. I turn to tattooed arms in the prayer that ink can save my world from spinning. And I touch the tattooed arms and I am satisfied that it still moves under the skin and that only God can change me. And I pray; but for what I do not know. I live numb, then sad, then brave, then powerful, then sad. Powerful comes before sad. Always. I wonder if I feel these thoughts from a life that has told me so or if it's because there is truth in them.
For the spirit is life and the flesh is death. So can we tattoo the flesh so no one will ever know who we became?

Under Your shoes

Sadness comes in under your shoes
and you leave it
when you're gone.
You want me
but I am nothing
I cannot blink when you get here
cannot breathe
in case you leave
I cannot breathe
in case you leave

Fluid

To believe in a creator God is to believe in an artist instead of a machine. When the sun rises each day, it is not the clicking over of a mechanized operation, but a fluid piece composed and lovingly crafted by an attractor God. I live in a city but he lined my street with trees, to help me to believe.

Only Brave Men Watch the Sea

I'll need the whole beach stretched
from heal to brow
on top to lay my sorrow down.
Comfort now, there's comfort down
lay now under golden ground

Only brave men watch the sea
only calm men know the tide will turn
to return their love
when waves mellow to dreams

Trace, retrace and race my
steps
til I get to where I missed-I found the spot I missed you.
Comfort now, there's comfort down
now I sit where warmth has kissed you.

Only brave men watch the sea
Only calm men wait for the caps to break
and crumble where we missed you

follow your hands to the middle

Shadows of the coiled lattice
mark my legs
and paint them a henna sort of
statue
most beautiful
and my hands are framed
holding things
once I swore I'd never hold.

Jewel once said her hands
were small
but mine are long and skinny
and once they held orphans
a while before now
and once I believed that they were good
and now
I believe they are ghosts
that have attached themselves to me

I watch them like a mystery betraying me

Explain to me, my hands
I'm listening