Monday, October 31, 2016

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

Saturday, October 29, 2016

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

?

Friday, October 28, 2016

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

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

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.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

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

Monday, October 24, 2016

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.

Sunday, October 23, 2016

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.

Friday, October 21, 2016

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

Thursday, October 20, 2016

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


Wednesday, October 19, 2016

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

Friday, October 14, 2016

Does beauty even matter?

Thursday, October 13, 2016

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

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

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.

Monday, October 10, 2016

Ignorance blinds us

Dare we stare into the sun

Look at the noon sky

Friday, October 7, 2016

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

Thursday, October 6, 2016

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.

Monday, October 3, 2016

destination

Every path must end

All journeys 
                    taken far enough

terminate at one

destination

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Her eyes and her dreams are 
the same thing.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

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