As I Reach My Reply

So what else is there?
I'm spinning a good yarn
and thus far the tapestry's coming along

I'm singing that bright song and yet ironically
it ain't got no words

still I hope ya heard everything I said
from way over by the crash of the curb
to the slashing of the mosh
the ever loving heat of the pit
to every comfort you found in bed
every sound in every phone in every tone in every head
the message / it remains the same
all ways in it's fullest colors never smothered or too bled

the conflicts for the most part they don't stick
they wash away while their residue sustains
the positivity like silence and chemistry a new mix
softened hues like my sober intoxicated new view
I found a new drink that offers proper cause
to my new bruised and opened eye moves
some pass off as a case of public drunkenness

but if love is illicit
then I think I'm just the bandit you're looking for
if it is unlawful to be high as a mother fucker
off my wordless passion I have for every brother
sun shine and moon light and all of creation
then I will gladly don the chains
and steel collar that the fearful have fashioned
and I will wear them 'til the last rising dawn
shake my split end tresses in time with the last note
of the last song the last words spoke / they carry on

desolate but not famished
my love remains but the body has vanished
the chains clamber to the ground / silent
my love speaks loudly / maintains resonance
the atoms never split stronger than the bomb
more resilient than the end
the apocalypse of my bright song

so what else is there?
my silence is proof
my body
not just external
my passion is eternal
as I reach my reply
my love is a fractal

The Reed's Note

I've got clothes that I own and I wear them fine
in water color and the shine of dawn cutting
a heavy stitch across my trousers
lowers my brow and hand full of flowers
level with the eye and glock embedded waist line
style bred of a violet horizon and violence
that only I have been the shark to witness
I recognize zen then as a pad of sound second nature
thirsty for the drink as a grape vine for the nurturing
via that which I know and what with a wonder
I could bereave the closing iris of day across egos chimera
and let away to the riviera 3 degrees off point of peninsula
perhaps describing one hot toke the penetration of a lung
the last rung sung from cottonmouths basest shelf the herbalists breathe the sun dodgers cleft chin split the stars and the reflection of the moon light off the sea's spite off my two eyes are the only halves that are left
the 2 litre coke bottom bursting like a parachute spent spread as a chemical's intent is well meant I'm only gaining speed and addicted to this shit but it's presence maintains pertinence in the wings of my you staring back at me from the fractaling ferns fingering the crevices between clouds
the past we lost track of we could only have once found open enough to have been right here right now shortly in the future while behind us we were blood hounds sniffing out the suture sewn shut at the end of our snouts
nostrils withheld hidden hues of the purples and oranges and green rusted doors hinges we followed by sight alone since choices I suppose find me with zero decibels worth of smell but in the modest hints of light glint off the might like a shadow of the teeth in my now extra mouth

that is the momentum of the note of the reed devoid of the never think this is what I seek a peace is the permanence a predicate of the seed wounder songs will fail to contaminate the hex and vibe the words and what I mean

the sun is all ways setting

concrete only bleeds when you pour a sip of OE on the street
for sensing the similar selves of me I become even as deceased

but no don't weep
the reed's note lingers on
the wolves and the sleep
meet where poltergeists digest rhythm
the apex of the sky
my one holy moment
palms pressing between solar systems
infinity has frozen