on oceans still floating

the easy way down to the shore
has no more bumps then your usual road
no more breaks then the normal tide
and no more reasons for me to hide.

last song driving.

minds to whole up
divvy out and reckon forth
reprogramming miscellany
introverses and EXIST ence.
write whole the prophet
self is the sayer
dancing on imaginations finger
this twirling lover
a thousand drops a second
and seconds = hours
and fixing yr fever
oh this lovers miser
awake again
dreaming
alive once more
and screaming
faulting the favor, a vice for the victor
hearts can soar without these wings
or the felonies that bind
another twisted fairytale
another right mind.

(do not awake the demons)
(do not be made a slave)
(if this moment is forever)
(then with you i think i'll stay)
(a flock of butterflies come to your bedside)
(a handsome riddle to fill your ear's eye.)

in front of a flood.

kissed closed the envelope
slick residue all beneath
whom he'd give this to
another session of acupuncture
a second escaped the coveted lips
the waking life
that always insists existence
otherwise.
otherwise.
otherlives.
different mothers
different eyes
can jump canyons,
mark themselves suitors
and whisper secrets through closed mouths
a finger to the sky.

if only the holding
did not require end
there'd be no more questions
to worry to be in
just limbs full of body
jasmine and honeysuckle insides
warm for the fitting
warm for the light.

(i believe in magic)
(if you do it just right)
(something out of nothing)
(hope without a chance)

cast loose the vigil
candle in the window
he's coming home again.

just be happy.

ran around the world backwards
hoping it's spinning would follow
so head could still itself
and throat could swallow
all these impurities in the system
all these ditches for digging

make the trek past the worms
and to the point you finally learn
you must fix the disaster
'fore it is ever
and not spend a second
in this stopped traversal
this moment that's never over
ripping 'part the clover
not making now better.

let us not forget.

it's not the moments we can't handle,
those broken seconds of dischord and atrophy,
where traversing the globe becomes unneeded;
it's the ones where breath reaches neck
where we fall inside our steps
more then appreciative and direct
of what is here.
how it's held.
when is now.
(he'd fall on that steeple)
(just to be with you)
(he'd break both his ankles)
(just to walk beside you)

and then i woke up.

breath on my neck
a comfortable solution
to the hands 'round my back
keeping me in
this dream that i have
where everything works
and the time doesn't sap
interest from hearts
and distance is no scab
in this better place
and merely impatient
for bigger things.

light bends.

i can pass through shadows
reach out and grab
but come up empty
and still in my ear
this angel sings
and hearts all a-quiver
eyes paste themselves shut
and dreams fling through
the dissolved reality
to something
some future everything
worth holding out both hands for
and waiting.

all both of you.

it's only one hundred and fifty six billionths of a second more
it's only perception of time with those for whom i care
and i can think of no one i'd more
like to be there
then you two
whittling away that fraction of a moment
all smiles and laughs
all the love i have.

toady

you should have invested heavily in caligraphy
then the wiping would have nicely erased the deed
sand and a sword and the beastly seed
of man's unraised hand shielding eyes
from epiphany
for everything ends and begins instantly
to wait for a moment is waiting eternally
a gasp of the air that escaped you bitterly
to not be afraid to live infinitely.

he'd take your hand.

he doesn't deserve to know you
not after all he's put you through
and still his heart gets in the way
as it thinks it knows what's best
how to keep smiles around
and salvage what is left
and he'd follow
given any chance
to make amends
(though he doesn't know how he can)

off the bridge.

couldn't explain whats wrong with me
no matter the effort put in
because words do not describe this feeling
this sleepless sickness
these unflowering orchids
chewed up all the poison
and is thinking of dreaming
without any screaming
or eyes full of hating
or wrongs to filet him
stupid as he is
stupid as he is
for being this person.

disingeniousmonstrositiesofallthesethingshesdonetohe

all the right wrongs to never be done
all the ears ringing to bleed out the mouth
staples still stinging, the heathen has sung
finds just enough minutes to be here again
theres something it'd wish for
if only it knew
the docile
imbecile
buckshot in his toe
a moment
this moment
before it all goes
wasted on rotten
and all there is in
these seconds that beating
his heart half to death
wakes something forgotten
just like it'd said
live long
or prosper
or be you again.

a look to the right (a moment)

she had thrown flowers out the window
the dreams in which she'd sleep
all along the highway
comfort fitting in with me.
the lines of sad that had enjoyed
time on her soft skin
forgotten in her slumber
this moment here-in.

(i'd keep you here forever)
(never let go this second)
(keep driving with the sunlight)
(just above the horizon)

living under kinetic entropy.

go ahead and vent.
that fire is smothered by misdeeds,
past and present
wrought by your hands.
you made youself this trustless sacralige
to who you are
through your own aneurysm.
and to whom do you carry out this hegemony?
this contagion of distrust?
only whom should be held highest.
only that which gives the heart bliss.
and you cannot do this.
it's ugly and moronic and foolish.
all of which you are not.

the moron revealed

the idiot raised his hand
as he could for once see his folly
that he'd not given precident
to with whom he was dealing
and that it was he
who built a sand castle of distrust
and 'twas his own becoming
to keep on fighting
and quit acting
like an idiot.

for fights sake.

he carried the box as though it were a burden
until he figured out it was lighter then air
attempted to harness it's floating quality
and tied it to him for the lifting
and it was only then that he realised
at the start of the sinking
that this was something to be carried
as it's loft was merely there in the caring
complete and without a second forgotten
this thing so precious
he'd not let it be disarmed.

the last day

the sun has set
it's rising is all complete
it's tired now
and demands sleep.

now that the stars are out forever
and all i can do is dream
about how the world looked
splashed in light
there isn't reason to be.

(it doesn't matter what you know)
(only what you think)

the quadra-ped.

wasn't asleep
but must've been
looked at my feet
back at this square again
the one where i wear no skin
the sinew exposed
these muscles all thinned
eyes somewhat crossed
head all aswim
the things i should have done
and didn't know i did.

pauper,
oh piper,
won't you let me in?
i've forgotten my papers
and the storm's coming.
i've lost my wafer
and the wine is kicking in
if you leave me out here
there's not a way to live.

isn't dying like emacipating?

heaving high his fistfuls
the things he needs to be
the quashed assimilation
of beauty
of the queen

will i be forgotten?
and will words drain the day
were you all so knotted
you took that hope away?

keeping his mouth shut
turning the words off
breaking the contracts
still somewhat intact
on the outside it looks that
he might almost make it

(but the insides feel empty)
(the ears ring without)
(wholly unwilling)
(to live through the drought)

i'm off to gitmo, giddy i, giddy o.

everything's not everything
a noose in all this light
nothing said
could say a thing
and nothing here is right

the backwards all look towards
the forwards that were spake
the clover that was leafless
the lies that were all fake


all the truth is tarnished
and the facts are not the same
but here is my completion
a terrorist again.

closer being further away

the leaves are all changing
and my heart stays the same
a need for that buzzing
to be near again
for summer inside
in the autumn winds.

State Insurance Compensation Fund

the string you have me on
is only sooo long
only sooo wrong
and it'll be cut
after i'm done
being gone.

far over Rennes, just opportunity

just behind awake
where monarchs like to sit
where unicorns exist
(and distance does not)
i make plain my intentions
shrug off past dispositions
and make all preparations
for this wonderful life.

for indiana (whomever you are)

i wish i knew
who from home
comes to see me
but
alas
they leave no word
just empty space.

rabbits for hats.

a whole pot of coffee
at 3 am
when he should be dreaming.

to wake him up
to keep him sleeping
to get these things done
that he doesn't need
(oh, but i beg to differ)

how does one sleep
how can one dream
when their arms are empty
as magicians sleeves?

oncoming.

opened his mouth
and figured out
he hadn't much to say
except everything was fine.
all of life was great.

(and if downhill came)
(he'd tilt his head back)
(keep perception the same)

temperpedia.

you can't take his blood pressure all the time
leave him shaking
eight inch needle in his spine
(wasn't supposed to feel a thing)
cap off the line
feed the "medicine" through
said yourself,
"don't think this is the right thing for you."
but here he sits
ghost pained like the bullet never left
the one you put in
el five
ess one.
the slow face is all part of the fun.
is this where your counterpart tells him
to pick up his eyelids again.
to sit through this bitterness.
caress the weakened parts.
fix this,
why don't you?
fix this.

for servitudes grasp.

how strong,
atlas,
at last alone with you.
set that burden down
stamp that burning out
it almost feels all better
like an unstitched scarlet letter
and the dances
and hands through your fences
could just come back to her.

sideways beating.

the serviced vassal
had come for tomorrow
the one promised yesterday morning
the one that's never coming
shook it's fist at the heavens
let loose a laugh
(as if that mattered)
head down
shoulders slumbered
eyes full of something
it would not tell
but it's heart...

7:25 pst

couldn't see the sunset
only the reflection of it
some sad rendition
that wasn't what it should have been
like all this
the misfit
missed it
couldn't stop revolve
long enough to loft self high enough
to actually see
the thing that always beckons me.

for the insomniac.

he only thought of good things
who he is and where he'll be
eventually.
when keel strikes neutral
and the climb is coming
all invested and advantageous
all on top of the worlding.

the bottom isn't fair
and exhaustion bites deep
but the come-uppance that's due
will build him a keep
somewhere quite safe
to finally sleep.

street of walls

sans despair
a quarter of an inch from there
still looking at timelines
creating large gestures
and promoting bi-lines
futures of futures
i hold stock on this ledger
something good just outside here
some great epiphany near.

the bank herein.

you encumber this situation
you created
your debt
your initiation
as i i'll no longer
fill in the holes you create
fasten the eyes you dialate

these molten trenches
these wobbling benches
you hide in and seek comfort on
you try to wave a magic wand
for some great genius i am not
to carry you on
to sprinkle dust and find wealth
to save yourselves
to keep good health
without making due
without realising the truth

you are doormats of your own volition
no one else caused this situation
and i'll not be the gravekeeper
or caretaker of lost appropriations
any longer
find your own voices
grow up
take on the consequences.

borrowed time

i see your inaction
and contemplate so tenderly my counter
to dissuade explosions
and harsh irrationals
to topple giants in their slumber
and walk away unscathed
not to sit by idle
not to ever dwadle
and confuse said heathens
from knowing their worthless situation
self-created
embracing the magics of the lazy
to find a coma without trying
to stay inside unless someone else is paying
and i do not forgive this.

(un)punctual purgatory

shutters closed quickly
revolving enabling
oh, suppose that
the decadence is overwhelming
alzheimers and acid
a truce wagered against it
for collapsing on comfort
a lost endeavor
a tired misnomer
and could it keep forgiving
atlas' displacement of heavenly structure
has imperviousness found seed
in worn demeanor
will quicksand spew forth from features
to sink the emitter
drown in insomnia
and sleep forever

assimilated.

six hours of uneasy sleep later
burnt by nightmares
of embraces with a patting hand
before leaving with another man
looking down at those feet again
hearts will live
and life will land
cannnnnnnot stand
face caved-in
cannnnnnnot swim
can't not swim
hold the head up instead
move on from illusions
try to forget this.

indian giver.

he listened to his rasp
sounding lost and somewhat dead
and wondered at his sending it anywhere
let alone there
as it would only
depress tongues
that otherwise would speak
made him wonder
gaped his mouth
ready for plunder.

(keep ears closed)
(do not listen)
(find the trash)
(and throw it in)

track 3 (colors_collapse "have you seen...")

you could have expired the sun
worn out it's gases and moved on
but you laid down your guns
and walked away as though you'd won
then reasoned the epiphany
of prometheus struggling
filled his heart with bumblebees
and finally quit pushing

if you don't mind the smell
the rancor
of this slow death
(i'd not mind one bit)
if you stayed here
'til the sun sets on me
until the sun sets on me.

track two (colors_collapse - "have you seen...")

the future has become some joke,
some little giggle for someone-
who is not me-
to have.
the knuckles in my back,
the healthy young man
that i somehow lost...
how did this young man
come to be so goddamned old?
how did this young man
come to be so goddamned old?
ask how.

i'm hardly a man
or what one's supposed to be.
all you'll gets
what's left of me.
the jargon-filled soliloquy.
a hermit full of infamy.
inward notoriety.

his fingers only slightly stained
from tar and wondering
and rubbing his eyes clean
of all hope and sodomy
and wishing you well.
wishing you well.

it's not that i can't stand-
but god has played a trick on me.
broken my back beautifully.
but some day soon,
i promise you.
wake up.
(i'll wake up)

smiling is nice and all...

but what happens
to those smiles in the dark
when the sun finally comes out
the avians crying murder
the rush of the human disaster
who stops to notice
in the asymmetry
and remembers that they
are supposed to be living

if i could reconcile all i did.

if i could fantasize or make this right
metabolise the deceit and once again
open my eyes...
convince you this was fixed,
that you could love or trust me again,
that i didn't have to feel dead within.
maybe find a way to trust me again.
if.

he had a heart
and betrayed it.
thought he knew himself
and obviously didn't.
three-quarters empty and completely dumbfounded.
only mattered when it was forgotten.

like a rock

his only reasons came
to him in his sleep
his only feeling wore
holes in his feet
if there were triumphs
he kept them all discreet

there should be laughter here
but the brackets rattled loose
and the corners of that smile fell down
it's fleece all tattered
skin all windburned
warmth halfway to extinct
and swirling down the sink.

heckling the deaf.

the gaze was lost and empty
all hands on canes
not for the beating
all is quite tame.

matches and lights his martyr
all disrupted dreams
to push away that someone
he doesn't want to be.

seconds all of hours
silence in his sleep
crippled here no longer
to vanquish these rotten things.

the sleeping dog..

this space is cluttered.
i forgive it,
but it's illusions evaporating,
it's hope pretentious and rusted.
almost time to roll over
almost time to bail
finding it too comfortable
this amorphous solid
this mouthless place
where words come already diverted
and completely without faith.

the ostrich

abandon this empty
bequeath your fortune elsewhere
young lady,
take as much time as you need
because it's only waiting
and the heart only breaks
because he had it coming.

(showed off his riches)
(both hands empty)

copernicus

he found that mirrors
and wishes in them
the eyes looking back
seeing right through him
were heavily tarnished
saw them dishonest
couldn't correct the loss of calmness.

smiles in the dark
sometimes sputter out
like foreheads for guns
after he thought he won
the jittery insides
for what he'd done
the last time
he saw the sun.

murdering habits.

there is a foot
that sticks out just enough
to find a wobble in step
sometimes even trips
and there is not a better time
then this second
to teach it to walk in step.

the lying tongue.

he didn't break his fingers
though the effect was the same
self-impoverishment always is
because he could watch the world
mistake and mistake
and forgive them all the same
but could not easily
forgive himself.

wolf of witz

deep in the upstairs
where doubt sits restless
attached as an urchin
to the floor with ears
and listening
for a shine of sense
for you to not be dense

worlds don't fall down
almost as fast as that apple
newton dropped
some things are meant to be stopped.

9/11

if you awoke tomorrow
and found the truth
would sparks emit
and encompass you?
would flames erupt
and turn you blue?
if it was all a lie,
what would you do?

leaving glen park.

run a river
or cry me one
or find a place
to call your own
but where i rest my head
will no longer be your home.

you drown in sorrow and you don't know why,
leave your ears low and never try..
to contemplate the reasons that i had to leave
and your still aware,
still aware,
of only your hurting.

controlling
control the way you lie.
feed the fishes
til the pond goes dry.

nosedives.

no words could make this ditch deeper
the ambling idiot
awake and asleep here
might have misjudged this
(the humorless banter)
this calf to the slaughter
all of a father's
love for his daughter
he stumbled into
accidentally stepped on
forgive him
your graciousness
he knows not he falters
his blind eyes all open
his flame all retarded
hope for forgiveness
hope to climb out tomorrow
numb and frozen hands
the sun finally on them.

something i forgot.

fend off patience
to coerce distress
demand the excess
if all this
clouded impetus
makes it useless
then it's not worth it.

capsized contracts
this won't come back
this won't come back.

wish for another
heart attack
an earthquake to swallow the lack.

for you.

eyes spend moments engaged
in a small man's thoughts
a small man's maze
but could he raise his voice
for just one moment
loud enough for all of you to hear
he'd say thank you,
in my heart you are all dear.

empty hands.

excuses,
excuses.
for actions,
for actions.

while the only thing right
were all the reasons
this never should have happened.

the cripple speaks.

i walk down streets
see the reaction to my hobble,
ppls eyes confused
or judgemental.
every time
just more realised
how good a heart must be
to really love me.

four days before tomorrow.

some voice in my ear
some seraph.
some catalyst.
shining like aluminium.
polished,
no ableism.

havoc all unsettled
winds right for vessels
to sail to western castles.

perfect things.

are just like water
you wrap your hands around
and only end up
with wet skin.

but every once
in that great while
you bring a bucket
to keep it all in.

honest things.

constant state of inebreation
fingers stained and stinking
discs wounded or melting
yet still finds strength
to be someone
to be something.

(love cannot fix the world)
(but it will never lie)

the kyoto treaty.

legs all broken.
if i could only think of something
some great anamoly
that made this happen...
if i only had one excuse,
or even one reason..

the tabernacle chorus.

make yourself a martyr
ashen faced lover
can not scream in-your-slumber.

find yourself concerned
half-way filled with cancer
does this feel better?

these eccentricities will evaporate
no need to drown in impetus
just try to stay awake
keep your head
above water long enough
to release the rust

when you see land
crawl through exhaustion
here comes fruition
(a new decision)
make,
make,
make a new life.
new steps,
new strife.
find this all complete
and untarnished.

the rest for the museum
cobwebbed mausoleum
forget-it, it's forgiven.
see you smile again.

leaving berkeley

fogbank engulfed
the tops of the buildings
and i thought of whom
next to
i'd like to be sitting
as being stuck in traffic
is a perfect time for laughter
for squeezing fingers
for being sober
and high off eachother.

ambrosia found.

and it tastes of honey
a nectar to harbor
peace for these fingers
from constant disaster
peace for this spirit
peace here forever.

real hope.

did they tell you about it?
did they make it seem worth it?
if you tie your shoes properly
you'll fall no more.
if you find trusting easily,
you'll trust no more.
if you make love accordingly
if you fill it with everything
adhere to your honesty
this will be yours.

and you are?

the words so good i could not write them
see them outlined
in any fashion
by any context clues
or font and colour
what is
is perfect
so i'll be silent.

heliotint

if i place the sun just right
to accentuate the axis
and cast your long shadow
gracefully on it
to make your limbs longer
so that they might
traverse this earth
and make the space between
non-existant.

footprints in the clouds.

privvy to insist
this peacefulness
has a right to exist

intending to enter
said methodical wonder
drop all doubt
and swim in it's splendor.

a jar. open.

old and wise
as i can be
i'll swear to you
that i have seen:
angels with smiles bigger then mountains
eyes that erase years of discomfort
hearts that are purer than de Leon's fountain
all woven together to make one person.

candid chivalry

stare at me from clouds
ashen locks wisping loose
surrounding a soft,
steep climb to
green seas above
flustered structures.

(a month later,)
(to rise from this slumber)
(trace all these lines)
(drink from these fountains)

backing out of treaties

clinton goes to harlem
to stay in the news
the new guy wants
a 'protective blanket' (to tuck us in)
from missiles
in a desert far far away
that won't come today
but could any day
so we need to feel safe
and this blanket will work
as any blanket does
for children
who cover
their heads...



02.14.01.

on the tines of an empty fork

stare at walls watching them bennnnnnnd
stand on the outside tryin to get in
there are people in the walls
i can almost see
their skin

trying to slowly starve myself thin
stand on the outside trying to get in
it's harder than it looks to
get in the walls
and live

i am peeking through the cracks
it's black n full of cobwebs
plaster chips n nails n shit
n i could get in
if i didnt have ribs
or maybe if this head of mine
wasn't so big...


04.22.01.

tobbaco seppuku

the ashtray stares at me
like a forest felled to extinction
mountainous grey ash with brown stumps protruding
allows me to chart my progress
shows me just how much work it is
killing myself
but what other form of suicide
is so legal?


08.11.02.

scene_53 (in haiku)

above mirrored lake
the face, cadmium yellow
studies her regrets.


06.09.02.

to the girl beneath the rising sun, when my letters grew scarce

sometimes i look out my window
watching the sun set
thinking i can see Japan
thinking i can see you, smiling.


04.28.94.

maturity prayer

want to be big
no worries
smiles and paint and music
want to tower
cast a shadow
on the globe
block out the sun
moon in paper bag
iced down n cold
stuck on a pole
tired and old.


09.10.01.

sharp

shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshe eminates odors
shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhshe's ravenous,
mad
i'll curse her
tomorrow
with distance, she asks
a shove in
the backside
keeps most beasts
a w a y
i'm tattered
i'm lonely
i've nothing
to say
i hope
i can break her
or make her
my clay
i hope
i can tame her
contain her
or blame her
i
only
could touch her
with fingers
with eyes
i
only
could leave her
to keep her
inside
i
only
c' cleave her
to keep her
my knife.

(blank nails resting on the tin floor)

when begins begin

when you arrive
could you just pause time
so that you'd never
have to leave?

waking up.

dissolved the asymmetry
the randomness lined up
and made to order
the everything is coming
the everything is coming
days and nights soon filled
with silence and screaming
and
oh, god
it's happening
theraputic somethings
arms all latched together
and wondering
why you waited so long
to realise what life was supposed to be
contented happy
and arms for wrapping
lungs for breathing
and hands for holding.

failed disdain

you are the smile i forgot i had
the happy i thought i lost somehow
and i
i am the home you thought forbidden
the placid domain that kept itself hidden

and all these wishes
wishes no more.
just the truth.

mesquite ohs.

the differences
and space between
encourages salty brows
and this semi-gleam
if it takes traversing
a quarter of the world
to make this better
i will.

what can your city do?

my city is a magician
mine can disappear.
my city gets eaten by clouds
when twilight is near.

what can your city do? (part 2)

i drive daily
over these hills
and without fail
am amazed
by what i see.

a perfect.

he only told them stories
and thought that they would keep them
he only wanted glory
for everyone around him
something just like happy
but never thought it'd happen
his own little secret
close enough to keep it
never thought he'd live it...

(had all life been this gleaming)
(a repository of flawless)
(would those moments hold breath)
(or would you even notice)

smiles in the dark. (supposition)

this heart savvy
this heart no longer sore
these dreams no longer blemished
this life demanding more

imagination all rampant
insinuating more
finding it all perfect
and all to be enjoyed.

do not disturb

don't touch the handle
there are sleeping angels
so let them dream of eachother
and when they wake
to gaze at one another
find these moments
perfect together.

a martyr.

sliced all his fingers off
so he couldn't bring them in
into his pockets
for fear of helping again
grasping these appendages round
money he didn't have
healing the others
ignoring his own scabs
so just grab the tourniquet
to stop these bleeding hands.

dawn of never

calamity is all in perception
just like services rendered
and your needy complexion
but when i put down
my washingtons and franklins
to support a family
which was never mine
due to your lack of interest
in being a man
it makes that part of me
the friendly involving thing
die.

may on 2 and 9 (2006)

another day older
but we'll count it by years
leave myself in places
i cannot use my hands
sun far too bright
for day dreams
the world in one ear
ignored it
because there are noises
of vastly greater import
in the other.

haggled proper.

just simple and slowly drawn out
have to grasp these vestiges
to keep close feelings
when you stretch achilles last stand
before he settles in
and approaches twilight
and the rest of the things
more important
then history.

eventuals.

sit on hands
wait like martyrs
til time folds in half
sets free the ballasts tanks
and float.

the wolf

feels like promises you made yourself
when you still remembered how to dream.
the strength to pick you up,
a picture of hope to share,
these eyes stare.
(i'll steal that breath)
have always been here,
arranging things and waiting.
(because some things are right)
your fantasies awaited
since you did your forgetting,
along with the laughter
you used to hold dearly.

(fantasy no more)
(existence beautiful)
(should have always been)
(somethings are deserved.)

puzzle #1

a note on giving up:
freedom is a choking hand.
broken backs,
bracing for earthquakes,
don't stand up.

---

halfway up the tower of babel,
i laugh.
high on uncomfort, not on reason.
like insecurity evolved beyond explanation.
things that never happened.

The Butler.

your corduroy all tarnished
there is more to this world
then the roof of your eyelids
what you said you did
the life you tried to live
before you woke up

this empassioned hemisphere
this dimension-
love and fear
both good reasons
to keep good hearts near
lest you forget
(grins and fingers wrapped around)
(moments you could taste the sound)

life is what is made.

my art

there is no limit here
no boundries of chord progressions
or kadence fenced in
no chorus
or plotted path in which to swim.
just the silence filled
with contorted reasons
for believing
this could be something.

for the mute.

he finally decided
to cut off his tongue
keep his blood blue
no more breathing
leave the loved one
sleeping.
no need for symbols
for them to decipher
just fanblades all razor sharp
for the arms trying to hold him.

quattro.

if you don't mind the smell
the rancor of this slow death
i'd not mind one bit
if you stayed here
til the sun sets on me.

homecoming.

luggage ignored
by the arms once used to carry
which have found other things
less inanimate
in which to entwine their strength.

faces seal the distance
a floating mister
a floating mistress
who will not stop
despite the tourists.

tall tales

you could have expired the sun
worn out it's gasses and moved on
but you laid down your guns
and walked away as if you'd won.

taller tales

then reasoned the epiphany
of prometheus' struggling
filled his heart with bumble bees
and finally quit pushing.

smiles in the dark.

the crippled lover

and there is burden in this
i awoke from that nightmare
feet numb and eyes sore
hoping that none of it was true
that i'd never share this burden with you.

i had legs
but needed chairs to wheel
and help to wield
a smile.
i'd rather be atlas
and struggle beneath it
then have disappointment
that the young man
turned old and decrepit.

(but i still knew)
(whilst i clawed through)
(illusions and dismay)
(that you made me float)
(and i didn't need legs)

reflections of disymmetry.

there is a mirror (there's a monster)
in the corner (in my closet)
shows me my flaws (with big meaty jaws)
pristeen and all (the teeth are shining)
happy. (in the dark)

[these scars i aquired]
[long before i'd seen your eyes]
[have almost expired]
[in mine]

venus of melos

i saw that the marble of the statue
was slightly flawed
from erosive wind and transport
and realised it's perfection
even through this corrosion.
decided to take it home
and keep it in my presence
just in case it started to move.

the truth stands on short legs.

if i could see your eyes
i think for that moment
you'd question your ability
to wait for even a second
to see mine again.

just open arms. no needless atrophy

you cannot curl up next to
your imagination
can you?
because i often find
when the rest of my world
turns silent
i can close my eyes
and find that i'm not alone.

you cannot go home, again
can you?
because i often find
when i'm lost in this mess
that i already am.

begging lines.

four hours later
came out smiling
a champion of grinning
and wondered
if he'd won
why his heart was still racing.

broad delusions.

ventured outside this place
and found you'd followed me
to that elsewhere
to write me messages
i might never get
but i found the bottle
pulled the cork out
and smiled as i read.

small world.

our congruent futures
made of our suttle disasters
and the things that matter
will one day find
we are together
the distance is lost
and these moments last forever.

memories of florence i never had.

her fists both of iron
just behind her
the collapsable mannequin
limbs severed and head removed
impaled and waiting
for her to give it shape again.

presents.

i see your eyes
grace these pages
and wonder how soon
until they grace me.

justified imperfection

what do you remember of me?
my lips and how they formed
courageous things?
my hands and the hope they forged?
my heart and the truth it told?
these muscles tired
and just want to know you
and how you speak
with your lips
your heart
what your hands make
and if i helped you
what could the both of us create?

curfew.

there are times during the quiet
where i must dawdle
stifle explosions
and this rebellion
and just be.

i tear off my lips
keep them in a box
(as to not let them rot)
and wait for proper moments
to let them loose.
to turn them free.

waking up for the first time

life should retain that scent
the flowered mysteriousness
no matter age or descent
because you do not know it all
tough yr though your path may be
there is always something new
for your eyes to grab hold of
and make their own.

truth be told.

finding it all to the center
no longer
full of never
and these seconds pass like hours
and these seconds pass and ours
are close behind
lurching to break free
because these moments will catch us
there is always a tomorrow
whether you see the sun rise or not.

rapid eye movement (part 2)

there was an angel
in my ear
who said she'd wait
until i was near
to finally land.

rapid eye movement

sleeping
through the hands on me
finding me needy
and begging me to stay
sleeping.

real names.

recover the life boats
this is no wreckage
these aren't strangers
no illusory distance
everything is together
leave open volumes errant
no need to
rewrite this anymore.

left to grow.

if i stay all silent
keep this feeling righteous
watching the universe's creation
and don't share with laymen
does this make me a bad person?

sheepish.

we walk a thin line
and it's rained since then
and i can no longer tell
which side my foot is in
so i'll toe the dirt here
until this line
disappears.

standing still

didn't lift my feet
and leave this place
and my (go-go gadget) arms
will not make such a venture
so unless miracles happen
you'll have to use the ones
in your freezer.

greer.

i watched for hours
the children play
knowing full well
i'll never again do these things.

dahmer

the limbs that were severed (maybe forever)
and put on ice (maybe not's better)
are still warm
and willing to make true
on the promises they made you.

das mich.

you arrange letters
eloquent and meant to be seen
and perhaps you don't know
how happy that makes me.

if nothing else
i'll always have the same shoulders
that accept jawlines nicely
and attempt
to do their comforting.

thin resolve.

the distance has collapsed
been more then folded in half
which makes it the perfect time
to lay back,
relax
tell my pulse
it's inclinations, though not false
can't be acted on alone
or in the dark.

parentheticals

these words should be painful
a nail ridden saddle
yet i sit comfortably
heartbeat steady.
the questions i did not write down
so i'm sorry i wasn't ready.
they'll have to wait
until some better time
until some moment that's right
which may be never
but definitely isn't tonite.

so don't say goodbye
because it is heavy
and wrong, and deadly
and know that you will someday see me.

divisional scenes

do your feet splash into puddles
that make you smile?

the rain is quiet
and perfectly delightful
keeps the absence
out of my mind now.

clear nasal passages.

if you bide your time long enough
masticate your fingers
quash the tremors
the sun will eventually
break through the rolling fog
and you'll find the duct tape
removed.
speaking the truth
like you tend to do.
perhaps someone would love
to listen to you.

dreams of Egypt

ghosts all keeping quiet
sensical and steady
no longer frightening

pomp and propriety
alluding to symmetry
when twilight comes
and breathing is easy.

(round the horizon)
(where ships can't yet see)
(the Colossus of Alexandria)
(right above me.)

jón þor (jónsi) birgisson

the anguish on your face
as your voice reached the heavens
the horse hair glancing the guitar
a screaming sigh
innocent and ethereal
these seconds beautiful
awash with clarity
stopped my heart momentarily
like i'd just been struck by lightning.

Emphysema

if you throw you words hard enough
surely they will eventually break
this pill
far too large to take.

my time or yours?

because i don't think i should.
because i don't think i should.
but i need to.
i'm sure this bleeds through.
but can i take my hand out after,
and be unscathed?

Loki

i saw you wandering Valhalla
hands looking for the pockets
you didn't have
to put themselves in
holding your riches tight to your chest
hoping no one would see you
sneaking out with their treasures.

i waited until the right moment
til the fire burned low
and you had almost escaped
to stop you with questions
all that, "where are you going?"

you lashed back with principle
gave me the earful
and ran away
pretending you weren't guilty.

(do over.)
(under god.)
amen.

the worst i left in groveling, hapless traps.

and that the compass turns north
that the wrongs stop henceforth
let these castles crumble.
leave these bastions rubble.
because it has to.
seraphim only fly away.
cherubim only sing.
and mensch only
wake from their dreams.

un takk

light enough to float
oh my, eyesland.
hallucinate i'm there again
(as if i ever was)
cockatrices never left him
realises it's the mayhem
of silence
and cries of children.

fasts for hours
approaches inebriation
but never quite grasps hold
settles with mild,
mental retardation.
and laughter in the ear.
little waver that once was near.

the water is warm.
the surface is clear.
blood vessels all working
to keep the breath here.

Pythagoras

thieves have come for me
so this is either
where the story ends
or begins,
i cannot remember which.
i do recall something
rendition of the flesh
convergence, there-in faith
and how i wish
i could leave this place.

for australia

young whence first
he showed me your words
astounded and wishing
they were mine.
and now
years later
(though they seem moments)
you send me pictures
smiles unflustered
you and your lover
fill the man who was not
with inarticulate joy
and the knowledge
that good things happen.

a boring, reclusive, hashish maker..

mercurial face
wise and unashamed
understanding whole know.
cadence slows.
atomically correct in this faultline
a premise of disuasion
another euphemism.
bound behind back.
babka.
jadek.
tight around neck.
partial-
complex.
oh fuck,
i forget the rest.

in all this confusion

the time hasn't moved quick enough
and hearts are still dragging behind it
and there is quite little
right now
keeping me
from buying a ticket.

looking back.

i remember
when you pushed me towards her
(away from you)
and now that i know
it was an excuse
(cancer and drugs and youth)
not a reason.
and my hands are full of reasons
for smiling.

the door was closed.

the chill air had frozen his bones
gone numb from the depth of the snow
freak blizzards and all.
never knew it could be this tall.
he thought to throw fists
'gainst the oak
and realized it was not his to demand
open.

still being unfair.

i've seen you
looking in
and i must wonder
how much easier it is
to read all these thoughts
to see what's wrought
then to let me show you.

and some things...

are not for me
to open eyes or mouth to.
but i do know
one thing.
i miss words
and black pixels
telling me things
i'll never forget.

days over hours

if i could have moved my cane faster
you'd not have tumbled
there'd be no disaster
so if you'll let me
i'll pick you up
and wait until
your done lamenting
and can finally look at me.

branded emaciated. never ever tried again.

after the royal aside
the highness a plight
if i find
after the doldrums
in the phantom tollbooth
fade their melancholy
from my ears
that i haven't changed my mind
who is to stop me
from cutting off my hands
as to offer comfort?
and would you put them in the freezer
so you could use them later?
or would the mormons
convince you they were rotten?
that they were too young,
and had cancer in them?
that they were burned too badly
when they experimented?

(all these questions no longer)
(this labyrinth has an answer)

the sun shines,
even if clouds block your view.

fire places.

i told her my tricks
that there were messages in it
and it didn't strike her obvious
that,
just over the rockies, i purchase silence.

go. over/overtly (un)dandy. break your eyes.

i know this is half my fault
morals all eaten along the way
those words i had to say
because i'd not leave you alone
to take the blame.

i attempt to find comfort
in this knowledgeless empty
by helping those near me
because it's oft been
the only thing that made me happy
but not now.

it's all sandpaper handshakes
admonishment and brainfreeze
and these eyes have seen hell
this boy was raised there
and not until he was finally a man
did he escape.

only,
it can't be that easy,
can it?
lest i forget.
oh, no.
i'm not ashamed.
i jumped into this mess.
i must admit
it's nothing like i imagined.
i really don't think
cutting out my tongue
will make this any better,
but if you like
i'll do it for a second.
if you change your mind,
i think i'll still be able to sew it back.
and what happens
if your mind stays the same?
and how would i know anyways?
or speak my case...without a tongue?
(and this is unfair of me.)

healing opens porous endeavor

the dream was lovely
but i've woken up now
and find wholly
that i want to go back to sleep.

freedom is a choking hand.

somethings disappear
faster then they arrive
moments so beautiful
and dexterous and lithe
and all mine.

somethings evaporate
and you want to know
they are still there
but along with the moisture
the reassurance is no long here.

some things end.
but never care.

And I Limp In Nettles Grasp

awakened unsettled
and cut loose the anchor
eyes burnt and dreaming still
heart lurches
feeling ill-
the truth lingers
grasping questions and answers
doldrums encompass bruised shoulders
there is no grey area.
there is no moderate hysteria.
so assail the blasphemer
find more of never
swallow the disenchantment
and over come it.
dance on the grave you've escaped.
dance and remember that face.

(you send letters)
(trying to tell me something)
(i wash myself clean)

The Honest Autocrat

Makes you
Come to
Don't know what else to do
Cause i want...

I could make this mess
(and)
Convince myself-
It's alright
It's ok.
These seizures will
Go away.

Mother says you better wait.
Mother says you better wait.
Play it...straight.

These confessions of a blind man
These imaginary friends
Won't stay here forever
They won't stay here forever
So you just might want to
Take them with you.

(make non-sense.)

Dystopicity

Tastes just like December
Drink 'til i remember
All this weight i'm under

Snow and all drifting
Cold in all the waiting
Waiting here for nothing

Haste into the morning
Breathe iced and missing
(glazed foilage not moving)

Drink 'til i remember
Something that was cancer
Drink 'til i remember
What it was
(all the weight i'm under)

I shut you up with bandages
And sockets welled shut
Beady eyes
A masquerade of blemishes
An epic of why's.

(getting)
(closer to)
(a time when you can)

Close your eyes
To end this phase
Find freedom
In sleep's dark rays.

Close your eyes
To end this maze
Find comfort.
Find comfort.

He spent his days
Convincing the world
He didn't have it
He'd been born without it
Grown up and lost it

(Jason was [just] a bewildered argonaut)
(a fallen jauggernaut)
(a fox who can't believe he's caught)

Bring Hell Water

a code of misconduct
nothing he could laugh at
bent his head
prayed right through it
made amends and broke bread...

all this has disappeared
evaporated
or been concealed
(but this was still here..)

drown the future in scorn
secrets no more
vision's all torn

he encouraged this
yet displaced it
completed the circle
and embraced it.

i
woke up an angel
and told her secrets
she promised
to keep closed her lips
hand slides to her hips
i thought i remembered a kiss
right before day began.

some of my current favorite lyrics.

"blowing kisses in the wind
'cause the two of us should've always been
but i won't be blue and i won't be down
you've got your own thing
in your own place
in your own town.

and i can take her on a ride
if she will
in my mind.
don't be shy now, baby, there's
no more time
to realize
we're on a ride."

Paul Mains - "Take A Ride"
-Paul has been a good friend of mine for the past dozen years. i'm extremely happy to say i not only know this fella, but love him like a brother.

"You believed
You believed in moments not conceived
You believed in me

A passionate spirit
Uncompromised
Without us in your heart
A light in your eyes that
Ends all lies

Vacant, broken
Fell at the hands of
Those moments that I wouldn’t see
Cause it was you who prayed for me so
What have I done to be a son to an angel
What have I done to be worthy

Daylight dims leaving cold fluorescence
Difficult to see you in this light
Please forgive this selfish question, but
What am I to say to all these ghouls tonight
She never told a lie
Well might of told a lie
But never lived one
Didn’t have a life
Didn’t have a life
But surely saved one
Alright, now it’s time for us to let you go"

-Tool - "Wings for Marie (part 1)

"It takes up all of your life
These decisions you make
It takes up all of a day
To make them all."

Built To Spill - "Liar"

stumbling on futures

he waits for once with a patient face
yet nervous hands
contorted round each other
roots all ready
to sink in and find breath
neath the bedrock
soon as he's ready
to do all this catching
and in this
exists no
sinking feeling.

(justified and grinning)
(sacrosanct and finding)
(the future can be appealing)
(someday, a home for dwelling)

just farmhouses with wrap-around porches
where the snow still finds it's way in the winter
no longer foraging or nomadic
and something at which he'll never be a quitter.

bedtime stories.

you are there
and i cannot touch you
and i cannot hear you
but if i kept my lips sewn shut
and tired eyes open long enough
could you come tell me a story
of magical hopes
that never have to disappear
because what you were hoping for
was already here?

Today Awake

He whispers
And lovers
(i love her?)
You'll see
There's more to me.

I'll wait here
For you to make yourself clear.
(I DID.)
I DID.
Break bread and make due.

But (what if...)
What if i loved you?

just been healed.

these small moments
of manicured displacement
where imaginations
are running,
running rampant
and desires flourish
petals of flowers
yet to have the flavor
of their scent tasted
smiles punished
with time and happenstance
and for just one glance.
just one glance.
stop the ships
and make the crippled dance.

how many friends have you given massages today?

beckoning eastward, (as) night erupts

hope sleep
now finds you nicely
eager dreamed and happy
no longer scared
of new, smiling things
all just right
and as beautiful as you imagined.

because i know?

he relaxed and fixed his brow
turned it upside down
and asked me the question-
what could he do
to deserve the heart of an angel?
i thought a second,
and chuckled at him,
before i made sure he knew
there was no answer.
that sometimes luck be your only lover.
but sometimes...

emerging from dungeons

the sun must have reflected
off some dark pool
to find it's way
deep in here
but you had a bit
of broken mirror
and used it to fill
this dank cellar
with light.

and it did.

luck does not run in circles
there is a way out
and it's near the bottom
because i found it
it's small
and a tight fit
but if you squeeze
your heart
your eyes
and imagine something better
it might just
open up for you too.

the monster at rest.

the vivid imagineer.

warm
like hands in armpits
and feet all cozied
'neath your legs
a blanket 'twixt
the way we are mixed
your highness
mine
right next to it
some great burden
you wrap your arms around
instead of push away
until you find
that it's no burden at all.

doubtful.

the sun is no longer setting
and is always rising
and leaves me to wonder
if i'll really miss the sunset
in the middle of all this dawning.

too good to be true.

sometimes you feel
as if they must have changed
when april fools day is
and no one told you.

something great.

tis not oft
that things are so perfect
when you thought
they had already run away
and you find them
waiting on you again.

fine opera. real life under kind eyes.

you can build all your chasms
and enjoy the reclusivity
confined to apathy
everything else empty

hold closed all doors
keep it secrets
keep it unimportant
(this gets me thinking
-brandishes the feeling)
because no one wants to know you anyways.
because no one wants to know you anyways.
so keep yourself a mystery.
but don't think it
at all
an epiphany.
or orgasmic symmetry.
it doesn't make you beautiful
it doesn't make you anything
but detached and bumbling
something that must
not be worth sharing.

summary.

there are days and even weeks that go by-
i try,
to keep my mind clear of thoughts
as continents swirl 'neath my eyes.
i'm going to do
what you make me to hold onto
to remind me of you.

there are days and weeks that still go by
that i wake up alone.
shivers me through
wonder exactly what i'm suppose to do
now that i'm done with you.

there are times i could almost cry
awake from those dreams
shaken,
and sweating inside.

they're our times.
there are times
that you go by
and don't even notice me.
i stand still
hoping your eyes
will glance mine.

crag, octopi, war, fail, crevass.

settles it with salt
tears all dried now
scabbed, not bruised
ego's all perfect
and marches in time
almost dancing
almost mine.

tales from a lush.

he told them stories
i think he'd been drinking
perhaps even smoking something
but honest in all
about fall, in love
with hearts full of insanity
eyes needing purged of their empty
and other excuses for rendering-
(himself useless
-his head on a stick)
gave them purpose
gave them meaning
a reason to find someone
minus the screaming.

of all the lies.

he told me to listen
that what he was about to say
was stronger then fission
was better then fiction
so i turned my good ear towards him
hoping for wisdom.

broken backs.

when living in a colony of lepers
i find it better
to stay alone forever
and never find a lover.

ringwraiths

wrapped round your finger
a constant reminder
the sucking feeling
the being torn asunder

this is a promise
this is almost never kept
this is a growing pain
and all the tears you've wept

some things come together
easier then they fall apart
and sometimes teach eachother
how to start.
again.
a new.
a better day.
a brighter you.

ringfingers.

there is no answer
to all these questions
except that happiness
really is a destination
some place you can reach
and not just with imagination
but with honest hope
and consternation
find your wellness
in emancipation.

repairing the enviroment.

sometimes
the coming together
after the tearing apart
is the sweetest of nectars
a mortal may taste
to look back on the time
spent without
and consider it a waste.

being called from the abyss.

grasp hands tightly
and try just to hold me
or emaciate your thinking
to dwell on how to remain
happy or just feeling

a wisp from the beginning
a hard fought battle for nothing
from now on
graciousness is gratuitous.
from now on
graciousness is gratuitous.

fought back the harpies
and their screaming
but found the emptiness
singing
another siren.

i think i'm done

find yourselves well.

for colin

they are headed to find out
what happened to his mind
and if all the doctors
can figure out where it went
and why
he isn't with us
he looks right through us
and if i only prayed
if i only prayed.

counter (ing) clocks (and) why's

i stood right behind you
when the sun was still waiting
to explode over the borders
my breath slight and tenative
as to keep the smell of your hair

my eyes only left you,
their tired vision
demanding respite;
yet frightened of where you dream,
because somethings end

and before you walked away
to let the demons
stop their churning
you laid your hand on my cheek
pulled you closer to me
as if you knew
this was all there'd ever be.

who i spent the last week with.

and she really is the cutest kid ever.

actually

i didn't say a word.
not one thing
or tried not to.

but i think,
you might have dropped your axe.

for mike

there were long days
you'd sit on the tractor
and yell back to us
"yr doing a helluva job."
laugh.
and we'd run behind stacking bales.
not really minding
the sweat stinging our eyes
the aching muscles
sapped of strength.

though you were not my dad
you were a father to me.
there was that brilliance about you
when you knew what you were doing
(and sometimes when you didn't)
and we used to feed off it.
you'd get a hankering
to construct something
and we'd stop our
video games/reading/eating
and come out and be yr farmhands.

you taught me the redneck work ethic
the one that says you don't stop.
ever.
you showed me that my hands
weren't just for writing
and i actually could
build things.

and now that you aren't
ever going to give me shit again
when you find me in yr kitchen
devouring everything i see
or sleeping on the couch
in the middle of the day
i just wanted to say
that i'd miss you dearly.

you were a man.

razor neckties.

luckily the sunshine
was how you described it
completely ordinary and perfect
and i'll not mind
it on my neck
and i'll call you friend
even if its become something
you'd not permiss.

politik.

the insurance cops are here
and though i've done naught wrong
i'm pretty sure
that by the time they leave
i'll have to leave myself.

das boot.

and perhaps
reasons aren't needed
or hour long conversations
when a single word answer
would have saved all this mumbling
and made him feel
like less of a child.

a nursery.

never before
had the rabbit at hand
experienced such confusing
articulate things.

the carrot's all claimed
the excuses were reasons
while the rabbit reiterated
that it prefered spinach.

the rabbit reminded the produce
that he was the younger of the two
which made him a likely candidate
for said produce's ridicule.

but the carrot was smiling
and said almost nothing
though it talked quite a bit
so the rabbit was listening
and didn't even notice
that the carrot got away
even if it was only with
saying a lot
and not saying a thing.

in short.

how long will it take
before the wind moves the right way
and pushes the clouds from your vision
to make you see
it's all a waste of time with me.

under the little top.

held my palms wide open
to show you the wrinkles in them
and emphasized i was older
then this skin.
i lowered myself into your carraige
engorged with anticipation
of everything i didn't know
of all the things that didn't show.

but all the laughs were honest.
all the enjoyment was earnest.
almost like
i went and joined the circus.

sacralige has envy. (aspect under stars)

i broke the silence
with a broad smile
not at all ashamed
because some things are alright.
no matter how you place their order
or fashion they came to disaster,
it doesn't matter.
some things are alright.
and right now?
they are getting even better.

reading a beginner's mind

and finding that it's far from that
that it's wisdom
encompassed far more
then it's title let on
because i've looked into that face
i've seen that honest smile
in those eyes
and i'll not be tricked
into believing that you
are anything less
then amazing.

my country, my thievery.

i came across your lands
wondering by what right
they belonged to anyone else.
i saw yr people's wasteland,
the places you are allowed to dwell in.
i can only express my remorse
that i cannot give it back to you.

remembering new mexico

and i'd like to someday,
sit on top of a mesa,
with all of you,
and listen to the wasteland
while the sun goes to sleep.

a disused fane

only mostly lonely
he sat and waited
to feel like a man again,
a lifting feeling
a brand new skin.
tired of just being a friend.
tired of swimming upstream
and finding the water too shallow,
his own heart,
too callow.

engineer'd the premise whilst sleeping
those vivid tremors
that find him leaving
a coward in his scoffing
a someone left for wanting
an abjudication of these things.

kept a surface of happy
throughout spines dissolving
crippled and walking
head held high and dreaming.

(stood on top of that mountain
watched creation beginning
thought he'd found his way
to compensate for everything.)

for daryk.

home in the chill discomfort
the empty main streets
and overcrowding police
warm company of friends
wipes out the cold
and hopes of seeing you soon
and sharing a tear
and an embrace
(perhaps a few beers)
makes all the bullshit in my life
vacate.

For Karel

Head, no legs.
Purplish blue. Almost white.
Almost mine.
You knew what it was
you and your mother
masculine and mine
masculine and mine.

Like a tadpole
tail where its legs should be
not even attempting to
swim through the mess it was in
before it was flushed
when your scared hand wanted so badly to save it;
to save him.

But where would you save something that dead
something so undesired and murdered
something so unbelievably white
when each time i imagine it
the colors are
brilliant red and crimson
and filled with somber forgiveness
and regret
and a hidden thought of maybe
given a half-decade's time
and another chance
all would be right
and ready
and willing

But life waits for nothing
not another chance
nor a half-decade
nor the right person
for the right person
so
here
is the place
where I say
I'm sorry.

reflections on the lower half.

i'm going home to see the life
spring back into my face
in the mirror
the wretch justifies
existance with proof undeniable
so home i go
to scoff and laugh
and forget what's become of me.

armchair sleep

the future has become some joke,
some little giggle for someone-
who is not me-
to have.
when certainty is completely discarded
and this imflammation takes hold
the knuckles in my back,
the healthy young man
that i somehow lost,
i'll travel home
and ask how,
how did this young man
come to be so goddamned old.

waking nightmares

i'm hardly a man
or what one's supposed to be.
all you'll gets
what's left of me.
the jargon-filled soliloquy.
a hermit full of infamy.
inward notoriety.

it's not that i can't stand-
but god has played a trick on me.
broken my spine beautifully.

but someday soon,
i promise you.
i will wake up.

the last march.

every day more a cripple then the one before.
more insatiable.
more inevitable.
he cannot fix what the gods have broken.
a back,
a heart,
words once written.
steady hands turned convulsive and rheumatic
no longer head held high
no more stand salute the sky.
just sit there
comfortable armchair
a prison for his everywhere.

so approaches realism's aside

you came to visit
left me little thoughts to read
little parts i cannot see
and i wonder
where is our beautiful sara?
with her R drawn out and wonderful,
a missing piece to the puzzle
whose words filled with wit
made our flannel plaid
was the best sara we ever had.

insider resistance

his eyes washed 'til empty
full of his inept things
an earnest smile
turned crazy
(but only slightly)

his brow furrowed nicely
decieved most of his lonely
while he slept
through the world burning.

not opening minor assumptive glances

all the breath you swallowed
broad shouldered bellows
inhaling your pride
insinuating life
and grasping
coming up empty handed
the expectations
that never landed.

(flew around and made you dizzy
skimmed the ground before you lost me)