Prague

The hour is up
but I still got an inkwell full to the top
ain't through sweatin' dirty
ain't done scroungin' in the mud
far too much growin' in the scum
the pond ripples with a bass driven love
if I have to I'ma drown in this tide pool
I now call the land that I come from
if I have to write a suicide note
there won't be one
as soon as I landed / shot off again
I was already there and too far gone
there for a while but not too long
for death it follows me
thankfully far off in the distance
it can't even believe the radiant shades that I am leaving
the tools the device / it is the nightmare / the savior
even in my dreams told of the bringer downer
clinging to it's thunder hunger
my sanctity my longevity my destiny
I've been taught in the crafts of hands
the hope stain / under the remnants
of the art that still remains
detained violence contained in creation
the segregation of myself / the blue drop
hip-hop in the pouring rain can't stop
dew dropped 26 minutes ago now he's convinced
that he can talk to art a part of the hope stain
stained glass monuments smashed waterway into revery
chapels we danced at / the saints in windows
they seemed to speak to me
I hope what god meant was the victories
I hope what god meant was the rest of me
I hope that what god meant was the virus
unaffected by sanctity
safety within the diseased places
that once had ate the best of me
glancing in haphazard angles
'til there was nothing left of me
and the nothingry is no animal
i am incapable of putting on it's knees
i know where it sleeps / i know where it stalks
i have heard it talk and i know of it's plans
it won't come from a train
it won't come from a gun
but my death'll be
cuz I ain't comin up for air
not one
breath

so bring the stress
buff the base of depression
bring down the submersible
20,000 fathoms
bring all the freaks with rainbow streaks
mouths of iron / cat traps / frustration
bring all the goblins and let 'em hang
cuz shit / I already left 'em

not
one
breath
46 & 2 half crooked steps
a mile to the quarters edge
4/4 notes over the canyon
music's my delilah call me samson
dripping in a falling pattern
there's so much more room
once you pass beyond the ledge
expect it to come hot and heavy
enough steam and moving dust to bust the leavy
the typhoon's the worst when the wind is steady
I told y'all to expect it
so why ain't your eyes on the hedge
please believe when the bass subsides
I'm on the next flight / a plane called Hammer
we nicknamed Sledge / mos def
this is breedin' a common experience
the sound in our bodies / our fuckin' deliverence
90 sets of lungs not seizing
this kind'a enjoyment the brand ya call serious
everyone who steps by they all wanna play wit us
so bring your own pair of lungs
bust out the aerosol da' lighta's an' drums
everywhere from the suburbs to the slums
we all come together under a banner
we call the perfect storm
whatever the weather
is immaculate weather
hail in our eyes / don't matter
we gotta song that's gots to be sung
calling chants that never drop the beat
swollen mouths upon harder stance
the place is packed but
the owners never built no seats
just 4 walls 2 decks and a ceiling
massive fans an' air conditioning
to douse the peoples dancing
trashing / crashing / breathin'
celebratin' life as weapons we wieldin'
a whole strobe effect of swingin limbs
noddin heads shilouetted by flares near off /dim
til the next pyros blow through the roof
to where the oak tops go / the four of pentacles
the ten of long poles / knockin' back strong bow
just we know how/ drinkin' it in
slanderous / like only we know how
let me show ya how / how we go blaow
tell me sooner than tomorrow tell me now
did ya hear us when we grabbed our gats
blew the street lights out
flew to the summit of this dance shaped mound
don't know if ya saw it but certainly ya heard it
town to town all around and in the cities
the echo of it all was so loud it rang in our ears til midday
when sun came out and when the sound went away
the only thing we could think to do in the silence
was sing away the negativity cuz positivity it refines us
and so we sing

bring on the stress
buff the base of depression
bring down the submersible
20,000 fathoms
bring all the freaks with rainbow streaks
mouths of iron / cat traps / frustration
bring all the goblins and let 'em hang
cuz shit / I already left 'em

Light a' Sound

So here's the deal
there are no maps in my cabinet anymore
for the lands I do not know there is no need to chart
I'ma grace the darkness in shapes you'll only recognize as the new art
and twist my cap 'til the sun comes up
bounces rays of light and sound offa the sequoia tree sap
and I find myself sippin' bacardi as my lady takes 'hold me
so clean but oh so dirty / light up the dub give me a second
to inhale deeply and lean back onto you
my love are the pill I pop the ecstasy I cop
your scent makes my vision blurry
so I hope you think my cataracts are sexy
that the scratches I leave are lovely
that the tracks we carve exist in a space
where the clouds reside around our knees

please believe that I now know how far I'd go to be artful with you
I'd starve myself 'til my ribcage shows
just so you could see how brightly my heart glows
how deeply it beats with every palpitation
for the beauty we'll grow in the garden in the sea
where thrown stone ripples are just the first breathes and dreams
of tidal waves that'll bring us together show us home to the bed of roses
where all alone we'll not be afraid to scream or take it to the streets

the vinyls will spin
writers will spray up on brick walls a piece
to commemorate the moment when art bloomed
as these grooving souls came to meet
under the moon high at noon
when we came to converge
under the back slid and none too soon
dropped beat skipped down and out
my lips against your mouth

so here's the deal let's create let us elate let's lean back
let's meditate on the shapes they'll only recognize as the new art
and twist my cap 'til the sun comes up
bounces rays of light and sound offa the sequoia tree sap
and I find myself sippin' bacardi as my lady takes 'hold me so clean but oh so dirty...

Speakerbox

I did it.
I finally fucking did it.
I've overdosed on music.

I'm an angel now
floating just above my body.
I can see myself sitting there.

You can look in the ocean
you can search in the river
you can check in the moat
but sure as hell as you won't find me.

Dumbed out on acid
propped up against
a 7ft. speaker with
90,000 watts of sound
blasting out around my body.

You can look in the ocean
 you can search in the river
you can check in the moat
but you will never find me.

Lantern Lit Paths

In a forest full of stages
it's always brighter where the music is...

The Doldrums

To whom it may concern,

I must admit that I could never remember the days when the slayings were intentional / regardless of the many moons we stood under upon stone monuments that rose from the so few mounds we carved in droves and circles / this ashen esophagus of mine has cried just the same every day since the rain came in flocks of pillars within that trojan paper crane I recognized only as my waning affection waxed in pale star light between anvil and the hammer of a souls crescent temple / perhaps if the smoldering coals were objects capable of reflection the palms of your hands and fingerprints may have been something more familiar to me / maybe even the midnight dousing would have been some kind of sanctity promising anything I could have at least contrived as longevity / pooling in your cupped hands / slowly tiding between the metaphysical cracks and kindling / a haughty glance from the corner of our twin born eyes purple askewed admist the heavy laughing / i know //
i know if I breathe the dust just deep enough I can still black out to soliloquies we penned together on the back side of beautifully vulgar polaroids of you spread eagle and bottom lip biting //
destitute mellow and brooding are the angels drenched in triphaecta composites that visit me now and again when the lights go out and I find my skulls arrestment between the dirt and the floorboards / the heaving contractions and the doldrums / beings as separate and emotional as the speak directly and individual / lifeforms exist in as much as what we know to be sound as in as what we trust to be based in carbon //
(I learned that from you)
I must admit that what I remember the strongest is that day behind the emerald drapes when you taught me how to eat the children of the songs you sang into existence / the sustenance was more than overwhelming / so many nutrients that were almost too many providing / I never told you this but I was never capable of coping / the density and breadth of what I was growing exponentially to know as love was a landscape so vast I was scared into hiding for fear that my digital and canvas renders would be projected as imperfect deliveries to an audience of jeering emily carr graduates bison eyed and jaws elephant tusked and wide for the killing fields from days of street car grappling long since passed / New York / Chicago / Detriot / cocksuckers that brandished sabres spelt in the east coast snow the way deceptive leering shackled attic studio movie making into fits of rage turned acid blotter snuff film endeavors / the machinist fingered towards the screen while he spat of how he was always loving those women / he would repetitively ask me there there do you see? / that's what the patch teemed compassion looks like //
those memories seemingly so independent of one another / but these are the subtleties that connect the left and the north to the right and the south hemisphere / Calgary / Black Rock City / Victoria / these were the bone yards where I built beseeched and cobblestoned bomb shelters I knew for textbook certain to be capable of meeting the dose / stemming inside from underground where the blackness was complete where I knew it would hurt the least / and the most / I led you in by a fingerless hand traced the hallucinations across your technicolor eyelids and what without sense of touch or sight taught you a lesson I had learned for myself / and was able to teach the lipreading palette of awakened stone ghost hosts I had chipped from the space between knuckles that had once been slits to gain knowledge of forgotten widths of the color wheel planks now deciphered to paint two new iris onto your body / I assumed from your wanting language you had once applied be better able to see with / walk stalk hunt and make the necessary kill with / open up the throat of your captors the graduates those fingering machinists / come back home to me once and for all fuck flame and destroy that sinking left behind nothingness of a slave ship...
...but the doldrums were a rocketing downward anchor that pierced your side by surprise / drug you down to the oceans deep from where sincerely sinful and plotting monsters are derived / it was there in the crushing cradle of your own rut and defeat you yourself learned the powerful lesson of what it is like to never awaken from a dream //
while through symbiotic karma I was thrown pieces of the nightmare that came at me in fragments / a true captive of your entanglement I am pried from the safety of the bomb shelters basement the tongue cut from my mouth as I tried to give wave to your testament buried to the neck and left for dead alongside the rising tides disengaging embankment / I whispered last words and prayers I never through it all could have possibly spoke / if I had a joint in hand or an arm to raise it I'd dedicate the smoke to you and the burning weed to me / kiss the cherry and take one last toke for all the hauls I believed meant the most / a tear from my right eye would land on the sand and in it's reflection all of the true lies we spilt on one another and never seemed to give a damn / refractions of everything I'll ever be and everything I already am / reflections of the whisping smoke as it rose to the sky//
and I must admit that what hurt the most as my mind went black as I felt myself die / is that you weren't there beside me your ocean blue eyes staring back into mine / and if there was one thing that I could say in this moment I would scream for all that is holy and all that is right that every second spent without you I WAS FUCKING ELECTRONIC ON THE INSIDE //
and a life lived as a gadget harbors no happiness / at least none that I could find / a life lived as scrap metal rusting away into fragments is a life lived simply waiting for the power in the double As to subside //
so for all that it's worth and all of the nutrients in the dirt found under the grass upon earth / peace out for now to whom it may concern / I know I'll see you on the other side / where the only ocean we swim in is an ocean we know as love and pure light//

/PEACE

Escher

A brick falls from the apex of the ceiling
your head detained / accepts a dull thud
derailed on route to radio static smeckling
oil paints across pale cheeks raises the color
floored sculptures like you are art for the blind
braille bound upon hardwood contingence
conveyer belts that only drift you
from winded soul into the space between
wet walls with every out stretched hand
only farther still / away from me / never more

dark spots fade to closed eye visuals
embossed and delaying sumi-e ink runs these
golden limbs rush down the spiral staircase
cement tiles twist / flicker in a flash
a rain of things betwixt this scientist
breaks the sky beams into focused light
which pulls at my heart strings ashed
as thumbed hash screens describes the diagnosis
the lamps that lit my progress are destined
to set the hay ablaze visible from
the widest points of the paths I made
to embers glow against our bones
a single hair between my lips
you are prostrate / and already dead
I was just trying
to build you a home

As I Will Be As I Am

So it began like this
6:30 am I can hear seagulls
outside my bedroom window
pants hoodie cigarette headphones
bare right to left again
down the stairs to toes
to heel then full foot again
good morning to the girls
at the desk for the first time
certainly not the last time
the first of many better
mornings to be many mornings
bright and shining differently
the bell sounds deep and clear
pocket lighter flicker
pull
lighter pocket breathe
deeper than the bell and
pull
the air here touches my face
it is damper more comfortable
than I have recognized before
light and cool enough it lifts
my weight from the street
there is no bounce in my step
for I am hardly touching the ground
gliding sipping simply pulling on a
cigarette with coffee in hand
absorbing the ambience for all I can
through my skin thick and clean
an osmosis I am just now realizing
that I have needed to be reading into
the land of as I will be so as I am

Glass Shattering Under Water

Thoughts that talk are thoughts once sought and
talking thoughts are songs that are taut between
the spheres we toss from jelly and starfish unto
organic stillness as living as the moss embodies

a moment is precious on all levels of existence
from the sloth in the atmospheric tree tops to
oceans deep where I become lost in the belly of
darkness accented by microscopic luminescent life
as conscious as they are asleep all around me
three hundred and 60 one thousand and 80 degrees

maintaining density at a depth
I've never been submerged to before
the echoes of anemones soft glow of
organic phosphorescence the stillness
it speaks to me and in turn I am singing
your attitude and presence comfort me
to temperate degrees of which I can not
Imagine / upon engaging / more so than
I could have ever contrived (even in poetry)

your tendrils and transparencies seemingly never complete
breathe like with the breaking waves that you've never seen
in such silence I swear the sound of the electricity in my body
is that of you singing to me and still in subtle turn
I am speaking in scattered separate tones
influxing pressure parts for the song
it is of the closest distance
the way my voice is through the phone
I talk of thoughts in chosen spoken word
the way I is shattering under water
coma induced cradled by the curve of lacing coasts
coaxing the height of high rises
heavy beneath the surface currents

at these depths / moments are omnipresent
glass spheres shifting swiftly sinking waiting
to be swallowed wholly in by the slinking anemones
the whales tender throats by the vibrato of all remnanties
from the bottom of the ocean floor to the rooves of skies and seas
believe that there are atmospheres underneath my feet
there is vertigo in those clouds if I so say
there is polite autism amidst the trees below my parallel palms
knees swept softly against the inner harbour outer bay
what is that you sing to me sounds which alone convey
cracks in the earths core rotate the deep oceans waves
my transparency is unbinding as the phosphorescence behaves
to bare light inside the fractured splinters of so many
glass spheres shattering under water up turned geometries
angles and pressure gauges of which I am not concerned
air tanks I know that I do not deserve
but without the light I cannot see
where I begin or where I end
so I am as endless as I allow myself to be
completely stripped of all reserve
these fragments are a reminder
of the omnipresence of a moment
every skipped beat
is every silence I hope with

Moon Shines at Night

A midnight summer's rain fills the small space between rooftops
tugs the day time running lights into arching gradients
that pull into shifting pixels onto the cobblestone below
rested against the corragated brick wall with my knees to my chin in Fan Tan Alley
teardrops of light and rain glimmer a radiance between the studs of my belt and the patches along the bottom of my black hoodie where peaks a pair of soft pink panties
light and heavy aromas of oysters and rack of lamb drift from an open kitchen door
light as the back of my hand against a spotlight where I breed shadowy puppets upon darkened window panes
heavy as the gray smoke that collects in my hood skews the nuance of glow across my face lifting from the cherry that spirals about on point of a stout black cigar which is the object of my current absent minded vanity and affection

you are a mother as a moon shines at night
though we have only just met you teach me that safe places
do not only exist outside of the rain and foul weather
you are a mother as seeds bend towards light
young enough to not give a fuck / old enough to know better
though we have only just met you teach me that sometimes dry lands crack and bleed the skin that floods are necessary to float together pieces meant to build a wet and safer kind of shelter

when you return from the restaurant washroom you reach into your left breast pocket retrieve a small white box and offer me another cigar
these are a warm chocolate brown long slender and remind me of old burmese women and board games I've never played
you comment on the black and white photography / the sheen of the steel faucets / a religious tract you glanced at in the top of the waste basket as you made your exit
distant yet appretiative

in your absense
I will dream of lips against the reed of a woodwind
eyes of storms where the palm trees are steady
places inside myself where there is no such thing as sin
and the shelters you taught me to build in the dry heat of chaos
they will be the strongest because I know that there is a time for war and that when that day comes I will be victorious
for I am learned and ready

now in my world of fine tobaccos and better conversations
amongst the marijuana we smoked in alleys
white flags will never mean surrender for white is the absense of color
white is the rain in the light of the flash of a camera white is the color of purity
for white is the color of nothing gone asunder
and though you are drabbed in white linen aside the oceans surface absorbing the moons light that falls only upon the few beautiful women I feel fine enough to call mother
and the space above your head is constantly swarming with doves white as light from which all color we stole
in my absense please remember that it is the heart of the black birds that are waiting for you to fill them with your soul

Pilots Commendeer this Porcupine's Hide

If only you could see the rains I'm in
we would surely happen in flashes along the blackened skin
conjured among the shades jaded picket fences
postered boardwalks / mouthed planks shapes vowels
begging a shape not unlike that of a melting angel
whispers ash and the bone of a tail
beckoned by the lord our god
shadows temporarily scathed he points his finger at me
for the lake she slew you denied an ocean that grew
from mud she gestated forlorn and conscious obseletes
for we are sinful men pricked by atmospheres conquistador
your time is that of burnt paper blown from seeds and across the seas
well let me say that this crusade does not befit such a man as this
prove me wrong in speech like this
never has god heard a man speak like this before

he points his finger at me

my son take a grasp of my pockets to bequeath over days
and the skies took place on cached jaws packed with sulfur
that cried just the same as when she turned her head from
me in the flash squeezed sent slivers of bone bled rain
and I died that day in saturation sent fragments
though these quills harbor addiction this is not a poison that I can any longer use
after all this I feel like there is something so much more to lose

Lithid Since Post Mortem

We always said that we'd hang ourselves from the ceiling
but now this is just the waking scent of still life memory that we've been dreaming
with eyes draped over our shoulders against the wind
and marlboros clenched between our teeth hauling on a whim
we said that we were meant for better things
songs of bitterness that the swallow sings
bird choke holds that the biters bring
and melodies from throats so cold the notes froze as they ring
the way the mammoth was destined to be swallowed over the by seething
all the while entertaining pachyderm sized thoughts
of elephant grass tall enough to touch the leaves painted green
we were as tall as this at one point / then grinning
distantly feral between jagged words that slither
leaving tiny stars in our wake across the television screen
cheek fulls that finger the macro shots in dissipating montage
on I-wish-there-was-anything-left-to-discover on those channels
and we snickered like we knew what they meant

we will find the paths and streets that they lost
abuse and reuse them to our own ends
these ideas made sense to us at the time
or so it would seem

bellies to the dirt
shadowed by taller growths wider ambition
obviously for we were sixteen then sunken and slinking
between the cracks in the road lost between the foxholes
and sidewalk chalk all for the cause and effect of one goddamn reason
for us to be acting no longer than the stalagmites that held us down
speaking on about how we'll one day hang ourselves
by snake skin from the inner peaks of the cathedrals ceiling
now all that we do is slipping forked tongues between the legs
of the memory of our sixteen year old selves slithering and dreaming
empty shells of the ghosts that we used to dream about
ghosts of the gods we worshipped in those worship buildings
and ghosts of the pilates that claimed we could not find salvation
in any other space than dark brick buildings built by dead men
under clocks tolling a time when the skies seemed higher than our limbless bodies could lift us
when our bow ties turned to necktied creating god caught by the tongue gutted to the knave
along the chest hair line to our shitsmeared crooked awkward who me grin
winking what with a dear god what have I done?

gleaming inside of our wide and empty third eye
pried open above our own reflection
concaving and convexing our thoughts into words
twisted as the infinitely too many times rewritten scriptures
whispered into the cut clean ears of disciples under fear
words that spilled from our throats
mouths draped open to dry to draw emotion from these spirits in a single moment
but it is certain that if I could be the one to tongue and wet our lips
that a prayer would flow from our mouths like the ocean
if only I could be the one to grasp salvation as it lingers softly in front of me
like silk in the wind dancing in slow motion
it is certain that a prayer would spill from our mouths like the ocean

for in the shadows of brick steeples mistook for shilouettes of hangman's nooses
I should hope to be the one to open my throat from ear to ear
and spill the wind of the words that dictate my heart
onto the coals of profanity and listen to it sear
I should hope to be the one to open my heart for a single moment
and then close it

hung by the fucking throat from the ceiling

we used to say we'd do a lot of things
but we used to say alot

Tongues in the Stomach of a Wind Doe

A hawk child enamored
earth blazoned under a false pretense of free to let be
you are now free to scour harkened the dove mother
you know that I've been waiting for you to drop me from the branches
for some time now for weeks I've been speaking of it in my sleep
remember when we used to dream each others dreams when I shook
from the apnea and you whispered soft blue winds to calm the veins
of the leaves in my mind that tugged my spastic muscles
into fearful frets that could not stand the test of your fingertips
across my bald head the softer 'settle, settle, shhh, it's ok, settle'
dripping into my ears until the willow branches graced the dirt
leaving me calm and steady and sleeping sound once again

remember how we seemed to float in those days?
remember how we just fucking floated
we were birds and spirits and jet aeroplanes
waterfalls and free falls birds gliding on fire doused in flames
we were all the things that never touched the ground
a perfect silence under tilting wings
moving together never a sound
stronger than cornerstones
more resilient than cobblestone
we were the wind and the clouds and the rain
and lightening that fell from them
we were a four lunged entity separated at birth
and every time we made love every time we fucked
was an effort made in futility at linking rib cages
sewing hearts mouths and throats that twisted
between jaw and spine to find perfect new homes
in each others palpitating craving bodies
palms to palms and bones to bones
finger tips pressed into joined ellipses
falling into the cracks of you because
those were the spaces left for me to fall into
remember how we seemed to shine in those days?
remember how we just fucking shined

perfect setting horizons cradle
the rising stars in night casting
shifting silhouettes of us against the sky

I was the hawk and you were the dove
two spirits clashing then residing
a storming subtle wind that I am
destine to ride the tides of

a hawk child enamored
earth covered now after the fall from our tree
after the free fall turns to waterfalls under
a long awaited pretense of free to let be
you are now free to scour harkened the dove mother
I know that you've been waiting for me to drop you from the branches
for some time now for weeks you've been speaking of it in your sleep
but I fear if we do not fall now we will never again fly free
frozen in the snow above the rutting of the wind does
we will surely cease the blood in one another
never taste the west or southern shores and sea
the tides are rising and the weather is changing my love
in time with the falling fruit rotting resting
to breathe once more to live and grow again
two spirits grasping for the seeds sinking
into the moss of the morning glory trees
two spirits grasping a talon full of fingers
ellipses parting softly whispering blue winds dividing
the child the hawk the lover the dove
clashing then residing a storming subtle wind
that I am destine to ride the tides of

well perfect as we may have been in amongst
the leaves of the trees we built for ourselves
we will always fall through the cracks in one another
for those spaces have now become too wide for each other to cover
the child the hawk the lover the dove
the tides are rising and the weather is changing
it is time that we shed these tired and weary feathers
and reveal the true colors of a dividing flight path
the last of migrations and long journeys that we will make together
birds do not fly backwards over the hooves of the wind does
for this has never been nor will ever be the way the grass blows

The Faults of Peace and Safety

Under the willow tree I sat and wondered
how the shaking limbs of an instrument can make our hearts to fall
and how the number of leaves upon the dying life of this broad tree
will only lessen in the shadowed spaces over growing the grasses
of where we once grew tall / of what we will become once we
are no longer dredged in a false sense of peace and safety
set upon us by those dredged in a false sense that
we were at one point left unprotected and afraid
of what we will grow into / our faiths our disbeliefs
our sudden realizations / our aspirations caustic as waterfalls
contemplating what words we hear when the violins
overcome the static under the radio
bleeding out from the edges of our refrigerators
meaning what will we be when our sustinance
dries out dries up towards the shrinking roots
will the apples fall farther from our tongues
than once predicted by our predecessors?
and will the will and whims of impulse
slow to stagnant palpitations?
the hand grasps quill across parchment
to scrawl what we thought we meant
that perhaps all of it may not all just go to waste
destroyed / empty as the heart compartments
cut into our gasping dusted chests
withered as the cysts upon the skeleton
lips of our dead and dying christ
the flimsy matchbooks under our lapels
busting at the seams fractured and flaming
there will come a deadly wave
that will leave us with nothing
so as I speak so the words dissipate
as I love still still my blood will stand still
and the spirits of all life on earth
are expendable / just as the broken chords
may sing loudly cannot help but one day
sing a little less than yesterday
cassette tapes disintegrate
brittle bones may fornicate
tearing heads and limbs may
scream out to another
clawing scratching to communicate
and the light gracing our scalps will fade
there is no hope but that which we create
and there are few things that I know
and there are fewer things that I know to be true
but one of those things is that
my soul is as full as it is desolate
and yet even at this very moment
the light runs deep through my
head with love and a reason to be passionate
and even in the static and death
and the running shaking cold
the hate curling around the earth
grasping taking hold
it will sing to me from the hilltops
and I will on concave heavens stand
and let hate know that it shall not pass
and when my voice fades and cracks away
and smokes away from the radio waves
look and know and see that I will always be
everything that I need to be
look and know and see I gained it all
the day life's waves crashed over me

RESCUE

..but the sky scrapers skinned us into a hole of hard earth...
exasperated and tired out a trusted pendulum swinging heavy
a shining star scaling the blanket it clings to wide then gaping
against the grandfather clock the nine planets aligned
brandished behind the sweating sun setting transient in a long line
of what used to be the time we wouldn't consume
the skyscrapers may have us skinned at first light
under the pungent afternoon of waking to the still scent
of draping locks of lavender lapsing towards our palms
the tunnels we dug in the hills keep our glowing mosses warm
ambient under the darkened bodies of deciduous and coniferous
a descending place to sleep calm and steady
for years to come for days on end if that’s what’s meant for us
waxing and waning deep inside this heavy mellow earth
substantial and brooding smolding coals campfires litter the banks
river fires visible from space music that connects us
resounding through the halls hills for homes
heavens shaking stalks quaking at the sounds
columns slim and ascending waves of rain and light cascading
directions converging on the swelling life the light's depending
what animal will I be when I’m the one
with heart strings and conscious lines connecting
a vessel on all fours my heart is sore from the pounding
break beat chambers within me are a map to my surroundings
a muzzle muttering for more softly in his sleep
can you see my breath on the floor
filling footprints sparking toenail filaments
traipse over the threshold set against the bottom of the door
these are the paths I set for myself in remembrance
paths I knew I would one day need again
to follow four footed and vicious
calm and steady a glass sphere on fingertips
mellow and heavy a warming earth eggshell fragile
a whisking existence treading so lightly
amongst the shadows watching my scalp sweet and supple
afraid that the may bes maybe gumless mouths
Shovel wide teeth grinning shameless a universal scream to behold
barks that bite at the sky and chew through you
hair and bone endless valleys of chest and stomach
shadow scathed in waiting sweet and supple
a bleeding weightless bite to reconcile
a continuum of you star eyed and powerful
now what I mean to say is what I mean to be
that there is star power in your eyes
a depth that reflects the Saturn ringlets
of timeless and endless open as the atmosphere
controlled chaos swimming wise among the silence
past the vanishing point of mine your’s or anyone’s perception
through what we think we know of the tangible world around us
eons away from what our elders preached about redemption
all the supposed salvation we once accepted
simply because it was an answer to all of those questions
no know that behind our eyes reflection is more than just a window
but a spiritual silo busting concerning something more something deeper
than earthy religion with all of its deteriorating connotations
something that shoots through my veins rittles me to the core
shakes detonates my bones an inner arthritis I am begging for
what animal will I be when I’m the one
with heart strings and conscious lines connecting
a vessel on all fours my heart is sore from the pounding
my eyes are tearing bleeding exasperating I have found love
under the skin that the sky has torn and stripped me of
high above my soft scalp I have found answers in atmosphere
and with every breath I take I and every step I make
I am learning of my already present salvation
it is out there far from the mountain peaks and past the clouds beyond any solar system
past the scientific and artistic vanishing point of any universal perception
it is here behind my iris behind my eyes photographs of it are caught
in the tears that run down my cheeks drip onto my arms and side
I can hear the vibrato echoing in the chambers against my heart strings
we cannot smell or hear or taste or see
but I am touching the connection
it is warm and it is breathing
a glowing reflection
I am rescued

Crescent Suns

On late at last on summer nights when
the dry voices taunt the grass to breeze
with the singing voices of the childs mothers
I grasp from the branches of uprooted trees

oil soaked feathers and tangled nets
forest fires I only set to leave
I've never witnessed never noticed
the burnt earth beneath the stormy weather
I've too many terms ive yet to set
too many words I'll never be

a thousand paragraphs I have never scribed
I've seen this through but never seen it free
I'll scrawl twelve drafts upon the window sill
a dozen revisions of my epitaph
I've got days on end and years to kill
in this moment I've the right to be and
know in my own right place I'll take the stand
take the floor build a nest have a seat
never conscious of the waning past
the candle flickers in the curving hallways
dims against my bending knees

sometimes under the curvature of crescent suns
there is just too much smoke and speed to see
sometimes over the half way moons
there's too much fucking smoke to breathe

a prayer for the walls against every closing door
an attempt to enter each calling knock
a prayer for the loss I've suffered
under every gain more than I once thought
a prayer for the wolves licking teeth their pointing fingers
stave over my shoulder I never noticed the guilty one I'm always figured
a prayer for the cost of what it took to realize
eyes fixed upon the horizons shining stars setting nights
contemplating the colors in my head I missed the orb burning bright
merry-go-rounds and paper pinwheels I've been too blind to see the rise

crescent suns the half way shape
promises I dreamt I meant to make
the half way shape of crescent suns
what is done is done and done piss poor
I've been too concerned with what is more
what is sore is what is left for me to take
and when what's done is gone
when the moon is here when the sun has shone
you'll find me in the forest fires
a hanging scarecrow a fucking fake
you'll find me nothing more than
the space between the horizons
a half way man a half way shape
nothing left but what the sky can take

Sympathetic Ophthalmia

Drifting off in a hot bath one night
my eyelids fall to the sound of vocal
samples didgeridoos drums in length that
peel me like lavender or a deep rem cycle
I find myself in a water main curving
by my spine underneath the occipital lobe

the faucet drips when my toes slips
the dripping is dark
while the echoes are green
the walls taste like rust
cut my tongue to birthday ribbons
how does anything exist
when nothing can be seen

I walk the length of the water main
dangle my feet at the drop off
if there were a piano I would play it

over the years my eyes reach
the size of my skinny swinging fists

the ambience has become
more than I can hear
less than I can touch
nothing I can see

I just want my girl

A Garden of Grinning Knives

Last night with the slates of
sun shifting in through my basement
window deep in bed I dreamt of you
of your soft tongue tasting me
left flank to shoulderblade
of you swallowing me whole
heavy in the muscles you made
the tendons you grasp
and ask me to pull
of my palms taking you in
like a wide breadth of landscape
covered with vineyards
tall grass and wild flowers
of looking into your eyes
until there was no seperation
between your stare and mine

last night I dreamt forever
even now I am awake in the
shifting mosaic slate sun
yet still dreaming on you
you consume me infect me
you drug me intoxicate me
my pupils are wide and open
catching the breeze
you make as you move
my grin is as wide as a cleaver
and jagged full of words for you

I would lose my mind to save you
I would let the streets run red to protect you
I would hold my breathe forever to hold you

my high eyes and cleaver grin would bend
the stars to carve a path to reach to you

eyes try
though caustic I may be
I would stretch the river full
to be with you
a perfect drug
catching the breeze
to be with you
awake and dreaming

Stain

This sly cat slits under wide brimmed hats
soak grins since denied his buckets of rye
rusted clogs can fry the phat twixt contingence
and what was known as my composition
drafted in the grain cross marks in the marble shrines
wanting jadite third hence bulimic eye sought where
one could only derive under these clothes
are the only rivers where the rose hip lies
hardened flies bite my notes comply
no liquor? no sty?
no loose skull of symbiotes too sober to fly?
best fiddle to die is the first spanning riddle of your splitting mind