I STRESS
In a world powered by irregular gears
failure is a good place to live
A GUESS
Constant and stable
A brochure of multiple volumes
IS LESS
Plenty of room
To stretch our voices beyond
moments that fail to line up
THAN YES
Failure is a good place to live
In a world powered by irregular gears
-Thomas Typewriter
Spell caster, melody maker
What you bring when you sing
Invocation, realization
Doorways that ring of many things
Toe tapping rhythmic gyration
Upswing, Wellspring, Worshiping
The movement’s a shovel
Digging below the gravel bone
A wing from this sting
To a realm of
Seeing the you
Unspooling like string
Across from you
-Thomas Typewriter
Breathe in deep, while you can
Accelerant, Ignition, Conflagration
Melting flesh extinguishes bonfires
Long after cities carbonize.
Accelerant, Ignition, Conflagration
How could ash piles ever bring rain clouds
-Thomas Typewriter
Silence is unfaithful
Fleeing when needed most
Every ring of the phone
Leaves me feeling alone
Is today the day
With words too fragile
Did it hurt
A body going inert
Where do screams migrate
When flesh goes cold
-Thomas Typewriter
What are you to do
What choices can be made
Throat blinded
Vision raw
No planning for this.
What now that loud shifts louder
Night silhouettes
Blistering regrets
How do you scream when you are already screaming
How does your voice last.
Where is all this coming from
Who do you call
When you drown out your own voice
Irregular noises
Guttural piths
Competitive voices racing to closed doors.
Again and again I ask
How do you scream when you are already screaming
-by Thomas Typewriter
Snap
The clock hands overreach
The moment changes
I am a broken thing am I
Out-of-sequence sunsets
Darkness summons double-agents
Surrounded on all sides
I cry. I curse. I crawl.
But
I continue. I channel. I conduct.
Silver friends mist, what is your face
I am not alone am I
Bless you music
Always by my side
Louder. Faster. Jubilant.
Verse chorus verse shields me
Melody steadies me
Rhythm propels me
I am a glorious motion am I
-Thomas Typewriter
It is a shame we can not plant our emotions in the ground
Like a seed, press them away and down
Let the world deal with watering and nurturing our feelings
We are poor caretakers of the self
We’ll return when the flowers bloom
To smell that which is sweet
And that which is scoured
_by Thomas Typewriter
The smallest moments are the largest doorways
To step outside of oneself
It is a tight fit
Requiring effort and sensitivity
But worth the effort
As the scale of the world rotates
Away from timetables and deadlines
Past the horizons, equators, and tropics
_by Thomas Typewriter
A beautiful thing
Yes, a beautiful thing
Sits alone on a shelf
Wondering,
Pondering,
What is my true self
When I find
To my voice,
To my charms,
All are deaf
-Thomas Typewriter
In every action
In every choice
I am unsure
I’ll collapse
Folding in on yourself, Supernova in reverse
In every thought
In every feeling
I am unsure
I’ll collapse
-Thomas Typewriter
Thomas Typewriter 
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