Tuesday, October 21, 2014

In my favorite spot on the Rez during sunset

The splattering of a cloud sky or the scattering of a cloud high
I don't know you 

I can't know if I'll ever show you dears

The shrapnel rings of a mind's eye 

the raffling of purpose and I
Do not know truth or I cannot know if I'm to explode truth
my dears

The high jacking of a path in line 

the scraping between authenticity and what I will not try

I do not have 
not know 
not now
what I have 
know not what to do 
with these fears

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

One thing that I know and how I know it

           I know that I have hazel eyes: a combination of the colors green, blue, grey, and yellow.  I actually know that I have eyes that are made up of pixels, no, waves of light that are reflected in certain ways that appear as the color “hazel”.

            I know this. I know that I know this because when I look in the mirror, my eyes reflect back to me the color that we call “hazel”.  Also, when others look at my eyes, they tell me what they see: the color “hazel”.  I know this.  I know that I know this based off the only means that I have to know things: what I see with my eyes and what others see with theirs.