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.