underfoot

Bury these days underfoot
At the crossroads 
Outside of town
Let us never speak
of these cursed days
There is a shadow 
following me

Your Son

I saw you sitting in the church pew
With your little boy by your side.
You smiled and he reached out
His arms to me and hugged me
As best he could while laughing
That little child laugh. Things
Had turned out ok.

It is rare to dream of normal
Happy things so I ask myself
What this could mean.

I just hope it means good things
For you my friend.

1.) Mother (Where were You When I Saw Jesus?)

2.) Hypocrisy is Human Nature.


3.) We can't be alone when we're together
      Telling ourselves this
      Truth or misconception

Paved

I see the city being repaved
Into a cleaner version of itself
Light washes into corners once darkened
Unwashed faces still look up
As though I were a just and loving God
But I walk by as an ordinary man
Subject to life and uncertainty
These faces do not disappear
They gather in lowly places
Where even hope dares not visit
Too often     My sisters my brothers
I am pained though not as much
As those of you who sleep
On cracked and windswept
Streets night after night
Towering glass can see you
But you cannot see in
Revealed and obscured

Echo of bells 
from the steeple
I do not wake
Simply dream 
_____________

It is not good enough to simply be alive
We must be active in our own fate

An inability to forgive 
demonstrates
An inability to move on. 

I am not searching 
For cheap relief
Give me the real thing

Dreams of a Sweet and Distant Life 

Hardwired for Kindness

All that I have I will give you

All that I have I have given you

Dark Bloom

Hours 
             spent alone


How long 

                   will this grief 

follow 

me

Hewn Man 

Your youth is no promise 

of immortality. 

If there are no further words to sing
I have no use for throat or tongue
If there are no more thoughts to be had
I have no use for mind or reason

Who are we other than to bear witness to life?

What are the parameters of your enslavement?

Must the world be burning
Before we begin to save it?

year

A year is nothing more
than days 
strung together
passing through 
four seasons
of nature
passing through 
nights and days
while we rise 
and sleep 
through it all

Man's cruelty is the least 
imaginative part of our nature. 

If words are all we have 
we must give those away as well.

An iron heart must learn to forgive

The Many Lives of Ghosts

Rise

I will remember
I must remember
This veiled past
Mistakes and
Intuition
How to walk
Again after so
Many years 
Confined

clearing

paths emerge from the clearing
standing still in contemplation
to walk into the shaded unknown
boldness of heart and will 
acceptance of chance 
able to adapt 
the unknown always
presents itself

to speak again

half-shadowed visage
gazing out to 
an uncertain world
i listen and watch
speak when 
language can
be heard again

Alone you cry tonight
Together but apart now
Feeling your sorrow

Rest your head
Sleep in the peace
Of Winter's dream
Sleep well dearest
Sleep well

Rising to the sky
Feet point downwards to the ground
Heaven is above

Tyranny knows 
                          when to change 
it's clothes. 

A Season of Unrealistic Expectations

A Who's Who of Who is That?

One-liners, Quips, Cracks, & Wit

Too Angry to Cry

Unseen Moments

I am not the man you think I am
But I am a man nonetheless
These days leave me shuddering
And senseless in the bathroom 
With the doors closed
I can't breath 
But I force a breath in 
Splash water on my face
And walk out 
To try again 
To keep going 
To try and not break down

BRAIN WASHER 

Salvation

Your warm body pressed against mine
Beneathe sheets
Hidden from everything else
In the world
A world apart from everyone
A place where 
Salvation is possible

Love & Death
Sex & Grief

Color of Flowers

I can still love you

And not be with you

So it is

Memories 

Of a fleeting 

Former life

Joy & Grief

This world makes me weary
But it never forgets to 
Bathe me in joy.

If there were no joy
There could be no way
For any of us to continue

Cold winter morning
You do not fool me
I can see the Sun. 

Lyric Fragment

I used to dream of forever 
Back when God knew my name
Now She doesn't even see me
When She walks past me
At the place we first met

Send me a postcard from Hell.

Bitter Angels

December morning
Where are you now my dearest
Flock of birds take flight

Present tensions
Past life memories
Future tense relief

Death from a Clear Blue Sky

Dreams from the Unborn World

What good is flesh
Separated from
The soul?

We carry on as normal
Even if the world inside us
Has changed. Morning
Routines continue even if
Grief has taken hold.
There must be food
And a shower. A return
To life and living.

Time is never a thing that is wasted- 
It is either used or it is not. 

The Front Lines of Nowhere

Struggles with Myself and Others.

Shivering Skeleton Fingers

weight of years
carry me down
from great heights
into the ground
blind my eyes
recreate me
into new life
new eyes
let me move
up from the
ground and
onto grass
and skies
let me accept
eventuality
let me be at
peace with
life itself
let me touch
soil upon which
I stand and let
my feet bathe
in ocean waters
remind me
always of this
fragile gift

How beautiful must an image be
For me to carry it forever?
Uncommon beauty
Can be more commonplace
Than you know.

Life gives us as much 

as it takes from us.

What Remains After

Forgotten loves and crushes
Moving forward
Selective amnesia
Days fall like soldiers
Faces with no names
Remembrances of touch
Fingers on intimate silk
Desire a warm creature
My hands on your hair

living as a ghost
all truths are revealed 

Your truth is more complicated 
than any lie could be

I'll believe anything 
If you say you love me

How differently would we act
If we knew how much life
Each of us have left?

I may be older 
But my heart is
No less heavy.

The Heavens grow too heavy with 
tears

        Finally

                  it rains upon us

Whatever happened to 
All the promises
I ever made
I broke them all and 
I broke myself

Your arms remain open 
Though I am miles and miles away.

Kindness and forgiveness both 
originate in the same place: the self.

The Name the Wind Calls Itself.

Brother of my blood
Are our bonds thicker
Than those of family
by choice?

To Rise

I will rise 
because there is still
life in me

I will rise 
because my will 
is strong

I will rise 
because I must

moving in silence
breath in the chill morning air
exhale quietly 

You woke and said
it felt as though
this were still a dream

I pulled you close to me
and let you decide 
for yourself

Blood not spilled is blood still living. 

Elder

She has descended into senile madness
Lights flicker and misfire
Memory and imagination
Have become one being
There is life in her yet 
Though there is no living 

Human Barbarism

Humans have always been barbaric conquerors. 
Our nature has not changed. 
We merely have twisted our barbarism
Into different guises to make them acceptable
To our times. 

On Natural Rights of Man

There can be no yield 
to forces which seek
to limit and constrain
the liberties which
are the natural rights
of all mankind.

The spectre of hate and intolerance
is more than a creature
whose shadow looms over us.
It is now knocking at our door. 

Sin corazon
no hay vida

Your heart is
Liberated territory.
Defend it with
All your might. 

If there are no gods in the heavens
Then by what divine right 
Do Kings rule?

If only I could fly
There would be no tree
No branch 
That would be unexplored

Meditation

Let me grow older and wiser

Let me never surrender my beliefs

Let me grow greater in understanding

Let me grow apart from my vices

Let me foster love

Let me be the change I wish to see

Bareness

Season of bare branches
And frigid waters

Fruits have long been picked
Or fallen to the ground

Dead leaves are now hidden
Or swept away by wind

Nature sleeps soundly
As we scurry through cold

Fire as both death and life
We carry on

Nothing is True
Everything is Possible 

Good days and better days.

slow morning wake up
consciousness filters back in
hazy memory

When

Do you realize how beautiful you are?


Memories of us standing together

    my right hand reaching

         touching your hair

            brushing it aside


My touch on your skin

     closing your eyes

         a natural smile

             exhaled air of pleasure


Time is the only distance

            between memories

Snowfall

You were asleep
so I left you in bed.
It was colder
than expected
when my feet
touched the tiled
floor. I winced
and put on my
warm slippers.
I shuffled into
the bathroom to
urinate. I washed
my hands and
went into the
kitchen. I placed a
kettle on the stove
and looked out.
Snow was falling.
I watched silently
as the water boiled.
Beyond these
roads and homes,
in places so far
removed
there are men
plotting and scheming.
Their lives and
choices are
so far removed
from the world
I know that they
could be a different
species of human.
The kettle squeals
and I wonder
how many more
snowfalls remain
in my life. How
many quiet mornings
any of us have.

Molten gold
poured down 
the throat
of your enemies
Exquisite agony
Price paid 
for covetous 
greed

Can truth still breed
in a world full of liars?

I am just a shadow of 
the love we once had.

Dead-Eyed Horror Show 

My thoughts are carried 

        away by the wind

Now I cannot say

                  what

if any of them 

                        remains

Dying creatures on an infertile world. 

If the light is catching you
Will it let you go?

Songs of a Distant Earth

Songs for a Distant Earth

Ignorance in the young is understandable.
Ignorance in the old is unforgivable. 

Sin of Idleness

I will not idly wait 
as time passes.

There is not enough
time in my life

to waste on 
copious inaction.

December First

Winter descends and Fall retreats.
From my window I watch
Seasons change.
A dog barks in the distance
And the busy street is quiet.
What can I not see?
What awaits outside the door?

47

This is my answer
This is the number
        that solves for X
What was the question
I never asked
I know the answer
I know what I mean
I mean what I know
Tattoo it on my arms
Never wish to forget
Unchanging 
Number without mystery
Simple statement of fact
Forty-Seven is only
Forty-Seven
Never more
Never less
Answer unto itself

Changeover

Trembling hands and 
Halting breaths
Voice too weak 
To create words
Eyes speaking 
Clearly and 
With finality. 
Here.
Now.

What Beliefs?

If Jesus never came back from the dead
Where would we be now?

What myths do you believe?
What myths do you call religion?

Do you believe only that 
Which this world can prove to you?

How does Nature learn?

Infatuation and Love

Memories of the first woman I was ever infatuated with
leaves me feeling embarrassed at the thing.
We were barely teenagers
And I can't explain it aside from
My mind and body changing so wildly
And attempting to reorient itself.
She was a sweet girl to have put up with
My adolescent yearnings.
I hope she is well today.

Infatuation is a creature that rears itself
Into our consciousness at the oddest of times
And can disappear with the same speed
With which it appeared.

I remember the first woman I ever loved.
It began as sudden attraction.
At this point I was almost on the cusp
Of age 20 or so.
I can remember the soft warm features of
Her face and the way her smile seemed to be
A source of light unto itself.
Her eyes were joyous with a gleam of mischief.

Timing was never right
Between us but we were friends and
I felt a closeness to her that I have yet
To find matched or replicated.
It is unfair of me to compare
One love to another.
No love deserves that.
It is better to honor and remember
That which was.

Time passed and we had our own partners
In seemingly alternating succession.
The day came that she had to leave
And traverse an ocean to be with the man
She chose to marry.
The last night we had together
We watched the lights of the harbor
From a darkened room.

What can I say of the words exchanged?
Nothing much except
We love each other still
Though our lives have charted
Differing waters.

I feel as though I have learned much
But am still a student humbly
Learning from life.

There is no end to this.
I am thinking of love
And I wish for you to know
That it lives inside you
Even at the point
When everything has broken.

Skin

My skin can barely keep back
                    all these broken pieces
                                        jostling around
                                                           inside me.

Moment of Honesty

How scared of the truth am I?
Am I truly in fear of it?
My vices and shortcomings
       make me feel unworthy.
I drown my fears of lack of control
                                       into hazy stupors
                                              that leave me dazed by dawn.
I look at my reflection and turn away.
I feel shame in this skin.
I feel it's shortcomings acutely
                       and at times
                                  feel unable to change.
I live like this.
                       My confidence feels all too fleeting.
I am writing this because this is the voice of criticism
                                                                  that I live with.
It is the voice telling me I am unloved,
                      telling me I am too fat,
                      telling me I am weak-willed,
                      telling me nothing can change,
                      telling me I am going to die alone,
                      telling me that the art I create is a fool's errand.
I gave it voice today
                                 so I could say this:
You are wrong.

What is my love worth to you?

Acts of Emptines

It was cold in bed
Before you came
And afterwards
I couldn't sleep
You left and
I asked myself
Why I felt such
An emptiness
I know why now
Years have gone
And I remember
This lesson on
Love and acts
of emptiness

If time exists

it is a thing

subject to

die as surely

as any of us

who live.

What kind of eternity do you want?

To Paraphrase Dennis

The best music you feel in 
your head
your heart and
your feet

If you want to change the world
Change your world within

If you want to manifest change
Change your habits

If you want to change establishment order
Foster love and community

The politics of struggle are always relevant.

Friendship in a Time of Revolution

Discontent Politics

American Aristophanes

passage

Every dawn is beautiful
Every day passes into the next
as though 
                it were impossible
for this act
                 to not occur

The Golden Age of Anger

Uncertain Dreamer

Last night I dreamt
but woke up
and couldn't remember
anything.

How often does this
happen? Far more
often than any of us
could know.

I'm awake but unsure
yet I still breathe.
My body keeps me
living still.

Perhaps I should pray
not for me but
for those who have
passed on from here.

I feel sad and uncertain
but I'm trying to
steel my spirit and
prepare for the struggle.

There can be no end
to the fight for progress.
Did I dream of your face?
I can't say for certain.

Stealing Ghosts from the Womb

Electric Alchemy Index 

Creation and Existence

Is your God still breathing 
Or is She still seething
With disappointment 
In her favorite creations?

Crucify your faith 
If it isn't strong enough
Live among the godless
If you've had enough

Imperfect world
Infinite being 
Free yourself
From expectation 

New Scars from Old Wounds 

The Answer

Persistent impatience
Tapping foot 
Clammy hand
Gripping knee
Unsteady thoughts
Tension high
Endless wait
Living death
Answer soon
Then what
Then what

Those Who Feast on Flesh

They want you when you are young and beautiful
But will discard you when life has left you wilted
Your beauty is a commodity they wish to possess

To serve their base desires is their only want 
Life is even-handed in it's cruelty 
Even they shall learn this fact

So much love 
     
                  in this world

Pent up

And ready 

to be given

Verdict

Sitting in the jury box
With eleven others
We took two days
of deliberation to decide
upon a verdict
I sat as stoically
as possible while
my sweaty hands
gripped my knees
The judge deferred
to his clerk
He unsealed the
manilla envelope
and read out
guilty of first degree
murder
One by one
the judge asked us
if this was our verdict
Affirmatively we answered
were thanked and dismissed
I could hear crying
and looked ahead
as we walked out

She Is Dead

Do you know of who I speak?
If you do not
It is not necessary for you to know.
All this requires is the facts
that someone once lived.
She was once an infant
and then she became a child.
That child became a teenager
and that teenager budded
into a writer whose words
still haunt. Why am I writing
about her? Why can I not simply
tell you her name. I could
but I won't. I can see her name
resting on a pile of books
sitting on my desk.
She is someone you would
not expect to be a hunter
but she was and remains.
I can see her face from
her youth and know she
still exists even if solely
through her words.

Dedicated to Mary

She makes beauty appear by erasing words from the page

Act of subtraction
                                    Simplification
An existing form

Rendering fat from bones

Innocuous censorship

                                    Such an appalling word

Meaning drawn from mutilation

                                    New life

Requires transformation

Demands S A C R I F I C E

                                    What are you

Willing to give?

Head First Into the Flames

There is no running 
Only flame engulfing
Floors and walls alike
Running down halls
Air turning into noxious poison
How these moments pass
Submit or fight in futility
Die in struggle
Or succumb with no resistance

My uncertain heart continues to beat
An arrangement between us
We press on together

Honest

I never said I was

Brave but I pray 

Every day when

The moment comes

To act I will 

Be by your side

Uncertain Light

I'm writing this for you
because I hope you will
read this some day
and remember when things
were simpler though
you wouldn't have thought
so at the time

Hardship grows and mounts
as we age and awareness
of this world comes to view

Perhaps you'll remember
writing this and addressing
it to yourself while at home
sick on a Saturday night
while deep in the heart
of the city protestors are
roaming the streets

How little there is
that is fixed

These days

These nights

Bathed in uncertain light

Water Moving in Circles

Is history a river
feeding and flowing
into itself
time after time
age after age
repeating events
with new characters?

A person should only ever
Be given as much respect
As they have shown to others.

Hypocrisy
Is by and
Large
The rule of
Human existence

Without Worship

You are the god you have always wished to be
But there is no one praying to you
Asking for favor
Sacrificing animals to you
Tearing at their clothes for you
You are a god without people
You are a god without a religion
If no one is there to believe in you
Do you still exist

Communication

Can you tell me when I can breathe again
I have been doubting my instincts
I feel as a lamb gone astray
Where is my shepherd
Am I the only one
That can guide me across
The fields beneathe Heaven
What dark grip holds me hostage
With no ransom
I am not chiseled from granite
Though even in time
Granite would erode
And be smoothed to nothing
Sleep may be the solace I seek
Though I remain awake
And unable to convey
The way words and thought
Twist and convulse
Unable to find their way
From thought to hands
To find their way to you
To find another soul
That can hear

Weight of Air

Air heavier than the weight of the vast sky
Pushes down on my heart and
Weighs me to the ground
My feet can scarcely 
Move the weight
Of my body

Moving Light

Accelerating through darkness
Lights only illuminate
A few feet in front of me at a time

My foot stays steady on the gas
The fatigue of a late night drive
Begins to burrow into my marrow

Everyone else sleeps through 
Dark and passing miles
A moving point of light aloft

On an endless black sea
I dare not close my eyes
Fifteen more miles 

I know what my demons are
Or at the least
I pretend to know them.

Even the good among us
Live with sin in our hearts. 

Embrace

Clarity of morning 
Unobstructed sky
Brilliant sun
Beckoning calls of birds
Life ready to embrace
If you will only
Put forth your arms

Honesty and Self-Reliance

Where is the honesty you seek?
Are you seeking it within yourself?
If you are seeking it from within
You must allow yourself to believe
The full reality of your being.
We attempt to walk in the light of life
Though this is not always possible.
We give in to vice and overindulgence
Let our minds be fogged by
Thoughts of passing fancy
Honesty of mind and heart
Is more difficult than merely
Writing words down.
Honesty is not action.
Honesty must be taken
And transmuted into acts.
This process is painful
And prolonged.
It is necessary.
No guiding hand
Will be the final answer
Towards that which is sought.
Ultimately the hand that will be held
Are the ones you possess clasping one another

Nights of restlessness
Moon beams brightly down below
Breathe in deep and slow

Choose Light

Choose Life

Imagined Reality

I'd crawl into your skull
But you're still alive
And I'm no ghoul
During the day

I dodged a bullet
But brained my head
Against that brick wall
The bruise is gone
I can still feel phantom pain
Or are my memories
Tearing apart old scars

Disconnection enabled
As only familiars can
It's fine to be this way
Out there alone
I'm drinking again
Are you home
Holding a book
Staring out
Your bedroom window?

Artist & Muse

Know the Art

Know the Song

Meet the Muse

She is as the 

Art says she is

Endlessly so

Pretenders to Power

The Future is No Future at All

Recover the Dream

Upon waking remember
                                       ing  frag  ments
of a life live  d
by the mind

during the hours of

the witch

Acting in a sketch on a popular
late night show

                         Watching a sax player
with an immaculate sound

know  ing he lives with demons
he pumps
                into his veins

Nervous hands
an uneasy mind yet

ready and willing

to move
to act

and finally

waking

and

?

The Long Exile

Cast away the bonds of blood

Drowning in an unseen sea

Black womb waters

Inhale amniotic fluids

Caught in internal ocean

Open eyes can't behold

From this place

To another life

What safety is there

None my child

Find your way

Without my hand

In here 

In here

From here

Cast out

Cast out

Expelled

Driven into the world

Find your brothers

And your sisters

Cast out 

Expelled

Out there

A Harvest of Dust

RE: Death

All life exists in the shadow of death
but we cannot let our lives be defined
solely by this. We must live and act 
according to our own nature and live
as boldly as possible.

Waltz

You wanted a dance together
So I obliged
Piano runs in waltz time
As our feet moved
To the count of three / four
That moment
Could have been forever
And
        in some
                     small way

It is

The Hour Grows Late

There is nothing left in her room except for piles
of books, notebooks, and loose sheets of paper.
It looks as though a small library exploded.

I read through thoughts, one-off lines, poems,
and short stories organized into no organization.
The mind is a beautiful thing as it seeks to exist

outside of itself. Right now I am projecting my
interpretation of her reality through my lens.
One day it is possible that someone else will do

this for me and the piles of writing in my room.
That is not now. Now is time to write in these
dark spaces of night. To find some semblance of

order in a world that delights in chaos as much
as organization.

Season of Harvest

Winter's chill beckons
Dead leaves like fallen bodies
Hairs stand on your neck

Morning Ghost

My life has gone and only memories of me
Will remain with you.
It was too soon, far sooner than
Any of us would have wanted.
How romantic is it to idealize this
Post-life existence?
I have left the room we shared
For my lifetime
And walked into the backyard
That leads into the forest.
There are paths here
Worn well into the dirt
Amidst the evergreens.
It is not possible for you to ever
Lose me entirely.
Mourn where you must,
You will, and I will
Hold you in my own way
As your tears flow
Like existence itself.
Is death freedom?
It can be seen as such
But there is much
I would still return to
Back home if the pulse
could have been found.

The old gods cannot be said to be 
dead if they had never really lived.

Carved Into Rock

Older, fatter, balder,
The fate of us all is hewn into rock
Visible for all to see
In every known and dead tongue
Belief in a pantheon of gods
Becomes another's mythology
We believe in our own wisdom
Yet often miss the glaring light
Of day blinding us in our mirror
This cruel life makes our youth
All too brief and beautiful
As we spend the rest of our lives
Chasing what is replenished
Without us

Messenger of God

No one would believe a messenger of God today.
There have been far too many false prophets
Who were, quite frankly, too damn crazy.

If God were to make a well-known public figure
Her new prophet there would be much skepticism
From the general public and rightly so.

If God were attempting to reach us then perhaps
Sending a prophet is no longer the best way
To send commandments and updates to the most

Recent testament. The Bible could stand to use
An update given the state of the modern world.
The Bible has no firm stance on people who fail

To use their turn signals while changing lanes.
The Bible could, at the very least, have some
updated parables. Perhaps God has given up

On the concept of prophets. Perhaps She is
Reaching us through new means that we have
Yet to acknowledge as such. I can touch you

From a distance when you pull out your phone
And stare at the lit screen. How easy would it be
For God to merely send us a reminder text about

Her infinite and never ending love.

On Tears

Tears are natural
Perhaps the most natural of things
To be produced by us
In the course of our lives

Tears shed by a wounded body
Or heart or perhaps
A dawn too beautiful
To be believed

The tears shed by a child
Before learning to speak
Are the most pure of all tears
In the known world

I am trying to remember the last
Time I cried big pouring
Tears from my eyes down to
My chin and onto the ground

Salted tears cannot help be
That way My niece was crying
And her tears were flowing and
Her face was as red as her cries

The anguish of pain
We do anything to relieve it
Within ourselves and those
Closest to us

Tears are not flowing from me now
They will given enough time
I will have no choice other than
To let them fall

Buyers & Sellers

Most of us have very little
So we sell the only thing 
We can possibly provide
In order to survive
The very little time
We have been given
In which to be alive

To Be

The act of living is such a hard load
For the living creatures of this world to bear.
It thus was life itself that sought to offer respite
Each day through the simple regenerative act
We have come to know as sleep. The ability
To let subconscious thought emerge fully 
Formed beneathe the closed eyes of a weary 
Body enables leaps of thought not possible
Through conscious means. Waking is a gradual
State marked by minor movements and 
Adjustments until mind and body have 
Reached a level of equilibrium in order
Endure the harsh reality of existence

On Hibernation

Winter can only slow the beating
Of a hibernating heart
It can never be cold enough
To kill the creature entirely

Cursed Beast

Between spaces 
Frames of reference removed
Bridging distance by means
Once thought to be fantasy
How can love be felt
Through prolonged absence 
How can love linger
Like a beast cursed
With immortality 

I wake and wonder
How many more miracles
Must I endure now

Does beauty even matter?

Between Now and Eternity

The space between now and eternity
Can best be measured as the length
Of an ordinary human life. I am here.

This cannot last. This will not last.
Illusion of endless time aided by a life
Of comfort free from primal hardship.

See beyond the ordinary. Laugh at
This expression of the mundane
Passed off as profound wisdom.

The ordinary will keep you from
Searching. It will bind you to the
Chair from which you are reading this.

How we react to the tension between
Extremes will define us.

Mistaking Bananas for Cucumbers

Disconnect

She's alone by herself in a bed
That had once been their bed.
I know this only because
She says so.
She posted a picture of herself
With the covers up to her nose
Alone with her cat.
At this late hour
It would be easy for me
To judge character.
I am no one to judge
Anyone at half-past
Midnight. Alone
In my room with only
These words, some music
And a drink
To keep the night at bay.

Departure Point*

I'm sorry you had to find me like this.
Alone in my car by the beach.
I didn't think you'd be the one.
I figured it would be a cop
Leaving a ticket on my windshield or
Some random stranger.

I wanted to see the sun set over the
Ocean one last time. It was gorgeous
The way the light shifted into pastels
In the clouds above the sea. The waves
Were rippling sheets of silver coming in
And out. I breathed the salty air
To the rhythm of the waves. It was then
I felt myself letting go. It made it easier.
Let me say SORRY SORRY SORRY
SORRY SORRY SORRY
To an endless exponential degree.
This wasn't easy. I know I've made
Needless new complications but I
Never questioned the love I was given.
I needed more than this life could give.
I needed more than I could give.
I can now watch the waves from
A new and distant shore.

*Dedicated to D.S. and to L. who found him.

Ignorance blinds us

Dare we stare into the sun

Look at the noon sky

Province of No Empire

Infinite Curves of a Bending Universe (Freewrite)

Infinite Curves of a Bending Universe

Where does find beauty and hope
When it cannot be found within

Austere and Monastic
This life of unintentional living

Without your living voice
This world became sadder
And uglier
You are still missed
And thus it shall always be
A degraded place
Without you in it

Love is no thing
It is also not nothing
It is best presented
By the algebraic variable X
We must solve for it
Even if we grow frustrated
In pursuit of it

I promise nothing to myself
I have learned to break
Promises more easily
Than it should be
I ache at my misspent years
Or have they been
A masters class in finding
Reason from nothing

Source of my desire
I think of you often
When your image appears
I am overcome by you
Scarcely do we see another
Building walls of ill reason
I keep approaching you
From nowhere

Darling, there was a moment
the world could have changed
We would have instigated
The shift but we abstained
And let this world continue
On it's faulty course
From this distant shore
I admire your beauty
And memory
And think of an evening
Where possibility
Was more than possible

A Monument to the Eternal
Lost from this life
I mourn you
Memory is burned into
Eternal monument
Dearest
Lost from this place
I shed tears turned to stone
On your grave
I would have been fortunate
To have been taken first
Agony of the living
Memory comforts and haunts
Sunrise Sunset
Promise and heartache
To the horizon
I reach for you
Will join you
Let time be fleeting
Let what remains fall away
Let me return
To the elements
Let me journey
Towards the eternal

What I Know is Incomplete and Tenuous at Best

A World Reborn and Recast
Into an Image Never Before Seen

Alone with no one to love
She sees me walking to Her
Will our eyes meet
Will I walk by
With nary a glance


Sun rises and sets
Whether or not we are there
To bear it witness


Loaded and alone
Rest your head here dearest one
Alone at morning


Nothing is for free
Should it ever really be
Sleep well tonight dear

fathomless dreams limited only by ambition and ability

Hammer & Master

I cannot wield myself
Guide me to the head
The nail i must hammer down
Beat myself until
You lay me to rest
Turn me around
To pull nails from a wall
Helpless
I find myself in you
Forget me when
You don't need me
Hidden here
Useless in this box
Until you need me again

Reveal that which most longs 

to be seen from within you.

destination

Every path must end

All journeys 

                    taken far enough

terminate at one

destination

Her eyes and her dreams are 
the same thing.

On Sin

You're not a good guy 
for never having sinned
You're just a fool 
for never having lived

The Ocean Within Your Heart

Toma'a

Don't care to be overwhelmed by the natural ease
Of a carefree smile
                               Yet
                                      I am
and it belongs to you


I have never told you


I am sure
               you don't know

about this intimate infatuation


Beauty can only go so far

and that is a hard-earned piece of wisdom

but in you I see

                         that duty to family

to responsibility

                          and most importantly

to honor the truth of yourself

Oh how endless I find your beauty

in such light


I watch mute from afar

beauty in your eyes
dare I kiss your blooming lips
shudder together

late hours turn to dawn
what does night say to morning
faintest of whispers

caress your soft neck
eyes closed feeling silken hair
raise your hand to me

power of silence

your lips do not part for me

wind rushes by us

The Eternal

Monuments carved in stone
To commemorate the eternal
Will be weathered in time
Until one day smooth and 
Unrecognizable rock is 
All that remains

Monuments to hubris.

Autumn of burning
Air sits heavy over us
Smell of distant smoke

Waste Your Life

Waste the hours of daylight
and moonlight
whenever possible

Lounge about as though
you are bored royalty

Wake up and stay in bed
Daydream as soon as possible

Rise only when necessary
Travel to a secluded beach
and empty conscious thought

Fall in and out of love everyday
Let your heart be broken wisely

Listen more intently than necessary
Speak only as a last resort

Embrace the creative act
Participate as often as possible

If a muse should appear
Be grateful and follow

Until the world has exhausted itself
And new life springs from ash

Adulthood

Dream your life into being
Simplicity of thought
Action left to the movement of body
Ambition both impetus and limiter
Dual-hearted chest beating steady
May long these lungs expand and contract
Found you buried in subconscious places
You asked where I had been
Nothing could be said
Marveled at your form before me
Watched your lips move
Though I could find no words
A simple life would be fine
If we were both there
If we could cease
These dreams
Life doesn't always work
The way we believe it should
That is for the best
We sit apart by our own choices
This is fine
I still dream
Time to time

You Whom I Loved Best.

We love the ones we cannot save.

Gathering Dust

Gathering the dust
                              of your ashes
you cover my hands


My tears find themselves within you

              Forgiveness

I could never ask that of you


Aching knees

Feet refuse to keep me standing

Ache of years

Mind
          weighted and
                                sink
                                      ing
No one will find me here

Alone
           together

To an end

Advice to Self

You will not like the fruit 
of bitterness if you decide 
to plant its seeds.

Even the dead pray.

Immutable Law of Humanity

We each have to make the decision 
of how much hypocrisy we are each 
comfortable within ourselves.   

Use failure as a starting point for living
Experience is earned
Success is equal parts fluke and work
You are as you are meant to be now

failure of memory

Solitude and loneliness
Don't ever conflate the two

I do not speak
I choose not to

Your beauty is cliched
I want you anyhow

Pray for nothing
And God will always answer

On my knees I fall
Dig my hands into the sand

Present tense is evaporating
Past tense are the memories
We write into cannon

Everything is falling away
My hands can no longer grasp

Unconscious Functions

Breathing because I must
Doing so unconsciously
My body keeps me alive
Heart couldn't think
Even if it wanted to
Brain couldn't beat like
My heart even if it tried
I see because I can
Because I open my eyes
Caught in this place
Victim only cause I let it be
This place
A place of unseen violence
Place of closed doors
And muffled sounds
Hushed words and
Cast off promises to be faithful
With no judgement
I watch and see
With judgement I turn and
Look away

Processional

Not ready to own up to my part of the blame
Pass it off again and again
I'll take this load if you'll take your share
Let the days gather behind us

This Night (Freewrite 9/12/16)

These words don't need to mean anything. If there is meaning
then it is purely unintentional. There are intended consequences
for cast off actions and improvised thoughts. Pose a question as
a declarative statement and expect no answer. I held my niece
but she motioned for me to set her down so she could walk. I
obliged and watched her small legs carry to my mother, her
grandmother. There is never enough of the things we think we
need. We get by anyhow. I have twelve dollars to my name.
This isn't the first time. I worry enough but perhaps not about
the things I need to worry about. If I were to ask you to sing
for me would you? If you asked me to sing for you I would.
There would be no promise of my voice being pleasing, in
key, or even being remotely sensible lyrically. Perhaps I'd be
better off humming to you. Once upon a time there was a boy
who wrote poetry. One day that boy started playing music.
The boy grew up. To this day he still writes poetry and plays
music. The boy is now a broke man but more often than not
he is happy. The end. In medias res. Time is fleeting. Who
said that? Did it ever need to be said? And why in latin?
Tempus Fugit. Sometimes I think about what Mary told me
a few years ago. When I think about those things I think I
have been a fool to not act on them. Mary is fine. Her new
book will be published soon. This art, this struggle, may it
never end. Why would you want me to paint you a picture
of the sunset when I could take you to the beach and watch
it together in a profound silence broken only by the waves.
I like a well made Mai Tai after sunset at the beach. Two or
three well made drinks will put you comfortably at ease
with yourself and most anything else. Foolish blood caught
flowing through my body, we are both prisoners in the same
cell. Women I have loved. Women I have admired. Women
I have loved so much I cannot stand to be near them. What
did young Octavian think as he conquered the known world?
What did Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa think as he watched
Octavian become Augustus? The fate of a new empire rested
with them. We still speak their names. If I had no name what
would I call myself? If you had no name how would you be
known? Identity. Created and upkept. This nebulous vision
constructed and maintained for the benefit of who? Who and
whom, an other with no name to call but I wish you here.
Preach to the unwashed masses only because they forget to
bathe today. Covered in the dirt of the Earth are they not more
holy than we? God, are you listening? Have you gone to sleep?
This landslide will bury us whole. Choking on ash, collapse
of the known order, we must build something new or be
enslaved by the will of another. Moon shining bright over me
will you guide me to sleep? Will you keep Death at bay?
Will you kiss me farewell at dawn?

two incomplete ideas

Isn't it a pity,
Isn't it a shame
we couldn't work it out.
Isn't it a shame
we're still in love.

_______________

throwing bits of fingernails away
into the bin
cut and tossed
dead and forgotten
while we live
lazarus
morning to morning
alive and breathing

One of the highest functions of art 
is to elevate our shared humanity. 

Home / Less

Indifferent Earth

Place of my birth

Silence follows me

I bristle again

Listening

Listening

For a home

I cannot find

Those Who Sow the Soil

There is no audience worth creating for
If you must restrain your creativity
Do not neuter that which has not yet
Come into being
Cast your seed into the ground
and into the wind
Children of no father
and a reluctant mother
Let us meet beneath the fading moon
and let the white hang nail pierce us
Let those drops of blood
Give life to blessed soil

A Certain Kind of Writer

Please don't become one of those shitty alcoholic writers
Writing about their shitty drunk lives

Please don't spend the night getting loaded
Trying to find the divine where there is no light

What a horrible hypocrite I am
Who am I to tell you anything

As I sit here pouring rum into a glass
Trying to make sense of anything at all

The cola makes it easier to drink as the night
Goes on and on until blackness

Overcomes and we wait for the dawn
Even if we forgot about it

What Kind of Honesty Are You Looking For

Sinner in a confessional speaking to a priest
                  Sinner to sinner
Human exchange sanctioned to absolve
The penitent of their burden
One man is vested with the power to absolve
Unknowable amount of sins and secrets
Have been shed in confessionals
For hundreds and hundreds of years
What relief has been found
A human unburdened
Enough strength to carry on
For another day
Another week
Until enough sin burdens
Once again
A self-perpetuating path
Dividing the hemispheres
Of our behaviors

Recognition

A lifetime of fading beauty
I still recognize you
Despite what life has done
I could never forget
The brilliance in your eyes

Woke Up Dreaming

I woke up dreaming
but I loved you no less
Midnight memories
Tangle of limbs
Daylight reveals
what has passed
Impression of your body
My hand touches
where you were
Only coolness
Woke up dreaming

On Hope

I'll take hope anywhere and anytime I can find it.
To live without it is to surrender to the forces
that seek to destroy us. If we can preserve hope
within we can always persist.

It Doesn't Matter He's Dead Anyway

Don't believe the hype of conspiracy
I doubt his wife had reason to murder her famous husband
The signs had been piling up behind him
None of them were good
Hindsight won't do him any good now
His daughter was married to someone in a band
who looked just liked him
Perhaps it was more than coincidental
His wife is in the news every now and then
over something or other
It's sort of sad but she's managed to outlive him
despite her problems
His music lingers the speakers blaring
so called classic rock
even if it doesn't seem like long ago
The years pile up like dust on attic furniture
I was slightly too young to care
at the time and now I see the bigger picture
We're only here for a brief time
We'll watch many friends and strangers die
before our time comes
no matter how we may delude ourselves otherwise
You look beautiful today
I don't care how messed up your hair is
I'd kiss you right now
I love you
Don't worry
We're here together now

If I Need Your Help

Haven't forgotten my promises
I have trouble remembering myself lately
I'm still here walking through these days and nights
Am I in love or just breathing
Missives from another lifetime
Scraps of memories
Flashes of a past all too fleeting
Will you help me find a way home
Or will you remind me
There's nowhere to go back to

Unite Against the Enemy

Lives fades quicker than horizon light at sunset
Days and decades pass with increased momentum

Patriotic rhetoric is a useless means to endless power
States are nothing more than men and
men die completely and utterly

Our monuments are nothing more than stone
Eroding into sand

We have built a world on colossal hubris

Ignore the folly of a world so utterly bent
on having you sell away this one life

You are my sisters and brothers
Let us stand against those who seek to divide us

Night Bloom

Nights of endless wandering

Through lamplit boulevards

Cities blend into one another

Indistinct and uniform

I open my windows

Cool evening air

Tousles my hair

Heartbeat steadies

To the time of the ballad

Braking to a stop

Impatient heart

Heavy foot

Green sets me alight

Forward rush

Into midnight light

Deep breath

Exhale

Blood of the city

From my marrow

It comes

Flows through me

A creature

At home in this place

Sweet Moon

Kiss me as a lover 

8/29/16

11:22pm

Morning Drippings (Freewrite)

Nothing better than this
There is no place for inspiration other than the moment
The moment must be honored
Life must be lived observed and memorialized
Everything is in transit
No fixed points permanent
Permanence is a painful illusion if you are not ready to let it go
Have you ever watched a child grow up before you?
This is the course of life
Constant renewal
A sense that we are caught in a cycle
which knows no end
You are not lost
You are here
We are here together in this moment
And I will tell you
This is what your life has been leading up to
What we do now is up to us
Is this a message or a warning
This is what you make of it
I am free
I am caged by my own admission
I am ready to admit my flaws to free myself from them
Honey I have missed you
But we have let each other go
There are things which we can change
And there are things that we will not allow ourselves to
Remembering all the moments shared
How quickly summer will soon turn to fall
I have written my eulogy for myself
Take it Read it and the day you stand ready to deliver it
Rip it up and let the pieces of paper fall to the ground
If there is a casket and even if there is not
Say  This is what he wanted  Let's remember his life not his death
Somewhere in time I no longer exist
At another juncture I still live
I am no cat but I both exist and don't
Or this could be my simple misunderstanding
Driving over night
Sleeping in a van with several others
Placing faith in the driver
And each other that our lives would still be there
when we woke up

Unreliable Narrator

There isn't a story to tell
It's simple and boring
But I'll tell it if you want

I don't remember how we met
It seems as though we've always
known each other

How can memory be so unreliable
How can my narrative be so
skewed and filled with holes

I told you there isn't a story to tell
Just patchwork bits of words
edging together just close enough

to make a semblance of order
I've let so many days pass
And now another is upon me

There isn't a story to tell
You're here with me for now
Ready to listen if I'm ready to speak

Everything Worth Leaving

Nothing worth holding on to

Leave it behind

What

Everything

Everything

Morning is only as kind as we let it be.

Children are the endless renewal of hope.

Self-Belief

If you are trying to
Believe in something
Start with yourself
And build from there

Morning is Morning

This world causes me grief.
Does it do this to you as well?
We both know the answer.

Gray sunless morning
It is a new day nonetheless.

Roving

Blinded by the Sun
Dead and useless eyes
Rove within us

Is second sight possible
Is there an unseen world
Awaiting?

Towards Salvation

Save what can be saved
Save what will be lost
         everything will eventually be lost
Save yourself
Save those who cannot save themselves
Save us in time for salvation

To Forgive?

Must we forgive the unforgivable?

Should we forgive the unforgivable
within ourselves / within others?

Function & Purpose

I have accidentally been saving my thoughts
for moments like these

Don't ask me where this all came from
This is simply a function of my existence

Would you ask the River
why do you flow to the Ocean?

Strange Capacity

How strange is our capacity for love?
Love flows in seasons
Dries up in others
Love follows 
No command other than
To honor it's own existence

Answers

We know what the answers are 
to that we have been searching for
We only lack the strength 
to follow through on them

Invisible Cycles

It's comforting and disconcerting
to see certain patterns play out
in the lives of those around us.

Most of us will play along with
established notions of normalcy
and be content in their security.

I remember high school and
the friend's home we would all
go spend our time at between

school and band. Lovely parents.
It was a shock to see that home
dissolve into bitter divorce.

They married young. He was in
the service and she wanted to be
with him. So it was for many years.

In time one of their daughters
married a friend of mine right out
of high school. So it went.

Airforce. Deployment. 9/11.
Middle East. Stationed back home.
A home. A child. A divorce.

I see the pattern emerging once
more. I hope it turns out better
for these two young ones.

Have you heard of the wind
scattering seeds to the four corners
of the world?

Ride the wind. Close your eyes.
Weightlessness. We will come to rest
where we must.

For Bernie

Sometimes even the good people 
amongst us compromise to serve 
what they believe to be 
the greater good. 

Morning of the Red Sun

I woke and looked out my window
only to be greeted by a glowing red sun
hanging pendulous in the sky.
Ashen sky, an unusual gray clouding
a summer dawn. Are the far off hills
ablaze? Have we entered a long-feared time?
How did the Egyptians interpret
Joseph's dreams?

Past Life Eyes

Complacency is a self-inflicted disease. 

Watch Her Walk

toddling around the living room

bright blue ball in her small hands 
she throws it   watches it bounce
across the room    throwing her hands
in the air     emits a cry of pure joy
i can't resist the emerging smile 
so I let my face wear it and laugh

Romancing Myth

resurrect me now

believe reincarnation

many lives to go

One Path

Wake up and drink your coffee

Go to work

Drink more coffee

Amble through the day

Take a break and eat your lunch

Wait for the afternoon to pass

Count down the clock's face

Get in your car

Drive home with everyone

Get home

Crack open a beer

Sit down and wonder

about it all again

Ikey

Hey friend

I was thinking about you

I was thinking about

seeing you perform

for the first time

I was thinking about

the times we talked music

I was thinking about

the time you asked

for a ride home

It's a strange life

where people like you

can be gone so quickly

I know many others

knew you far better

but I still felt your loss

Wherever you are

wherever somewhere

may be

know there are many

of us here

still thinking of you

Against the Tide

Days of uncertainty

Nights of disbelief

Caught in the tides

   of struggle

Thrashing

    fighting

       for air

What choices

               are left

                    to make

Catacombs

Mistakes
    Missteps 
Foolishness
       
Seasons of our youth

The heart as both protagonist

and antagonist

What more could we say

                   to each other

after a night

of dog-sitting

                      and revelations

Gray Mornings

I can't write
much less think
of what way
I can articulate
what I need to say

The frustration
the anger
the disgust
with our times
is one that mounts
with each passing day

I want to go to sleep
I want to turn a blind eye
yet I can't
so I am agitated
and unable to sleep

In this morning light
all I can see are
the gray shadows
of morning

AMERICA 2016

FRAYED 

PSYCHIC 

THREADS

End Times

Awake and shaking
Trapped and conscious 
Hours upon hours
Static and unnerving
Final sentence
Time diminishing
by the passing grain
To wake and sleep
and return to this again

Will you let this love survive?

If everything is free
then nothing is for sale

Eternal Season

Time is capable of passing us with hardly a thought
as body and mind enter the state of slow decay.

Have you seen a toothless skull in a cemetery
resting in the dirt, utterly forgotten?

This moment is a moment of blooming 
before the withering winters 

consume us.

A lifetime could never 

be enough for any of us.