Sunlight and inertia

Teach and heal in the sunshine of meaninglessness
Humble today, student's ears.
I hear you all desperation and confusion
How can clarity move through me to you?

Like the sun through the grass
Warmly informing you
Subtle love in that approach
My curiosity is a spinning top

Teach and heal, thank life
Humility take my words
I'll tell you of anxiety's recipe
so you may exclude an ingredient or two

Like the idea moving through the mind
Sense swarming in you
Subtle love in your response
Your acceptance is inertia

What do I give?

The skidding shoes across the moist hot pavement toward the train
almost as fast as roller skates
Life itself would get bored to death if we chose not to compete
so we race everywhere and in everyway

Commuting is a sports game
Leaflet distributors line the main streets
Beggers and mobile street vendors come at you as if insane
Nobody on the same train as you wants to meet you

And on the way home the world wants action
The teams of busy bodies are out there to recruit you
Away from their air guitarists and across their fields of games
Into the forests and gardens where desires were stolen

Across roots of abundance that stop you to see what you offer the world
The branches push you down
away from there get lost in the gardens where anything is possible
Under majestic trees that grow close to the cloud

Alone you must ask yourself "what do I give the world?"

The disproportionate cherry tree

The trunk grows at an angle fat and thin in places
It bulges and curves like the human body almost as gracious
The wide dark speckled flecks are it's skin between the gnarls
And the mottled swollen openings it's scars

Come spring thick blossom will invade and compete with the new leaf
it will invade the air and our senses with it's delicate aroma but briefly
Overt signals that abundance will come as the days lengthen
Yet will it's structure stand firm under the yield the season sends?


Come the summer the leaves and cherries will fill it's boughs
The disproportionate branches that form limbs as if muscle bound
may not be able to take the entire weight when the summer fruit speaks
and the trees supports will bend and creak unless the cherry pickers reach their peak

The shrub vibration

Sweet rains have begun
The season shift
A driven airs of the South
fighting and running from and through the north

As lively as if the clouds were electrified
In the mouth of september full of light
each hour of the day
The blinding mornings and dim dusks

The shrub vibration
of this tropical spring.

The spider that knitted pride

Some rules you break some you follow
Laughing and hanging with preferential friends
There are your colors there's your identity
The spider is knitting it into a jersey for you

It's working its way though that jersey
like a methamphetamine artist
Soon you'll be worthy to wear it in public
But for now lets just watch the eight legged tailor

When the log drops

The car's on the side of the road the engine's still running
You stop to watch the log drop and the whole ceremony
And everything you believed about superstition was about to be proven
all the great esoteric carvings would come alive somehow

Afternoon sun dying gracefully  with the day
You could have driven straight home alas curiosity won
The fierce ghosts of the past all etched into that wood
will fall and become part of the canoe

You should of thought about the grim accumulation of curses
for naiive tourists it couldn't be worse
You may have your little neck charms your tattooed arms and social karma
Yet here's a ritual symbolic of destruction

A ritual designed to dry up all your luck
So back to your car which you left running
down the road you go but the motor is moaning
You are out of fuel and the town has few gas stations

Sunday's log dropped and you're stranded in a strange town
So you leave your car, your log, your ride
To find some gasoline before the fall of night
Long haired teen boys idle near the pumps

Their heads are joined to the sky they can't hear you or help you
If you hadn't been dabbling in log drops this kind of witchcraft couldn't manifest!
Me I travelled 60,000 miles in one night on the shape of my face as a surfboard
and witnessed it all behind my eyes quiet slow motion

The whizzes and the pans in the dark before dawn
are the little snacks that I adore

The water, and christ

The spiritual temperature is hot tonight
We are the bricks in the road toward glory
we are the rope securing the raft
We are each a single note from the beak of the morning canary

The psychic heat wave is bearing down
It finds the mercury in us
For we are the lucky thermometers
Asleep or awake in the python

Don't choke on these vivid dreams
The snake sends them and they are of water
Submerged crucifixes, he bathes his cross as if it was an invalid parent, out of all affirmation
Down the steps where the public stands shocked, unable to jeer or blame

Cleaning the blood off, face full of cheer
of all affirmation, for in water that heavy blood soaked cross has no weight at all







Amen

Love from someone real

The person I share my life with
That warms me with her giggle
And guides me with her sense
that refuses I be single

Joyous ponder to know she´ll  be there when i get home
Or when i pick her up from the swirling chaotic city
It´s her smile and her knowledge of me
I know I get love from someone real

She moves just to be in contact with me
one of the few true things that grew on me
is that the best of her few can see!
That´s what brings my smile and my knowledge of her

I know I´ve got love with someone real

Where ostentation drags you

Spend that coin on a focal point
So the eyes of the folks will point
When they visit the new house exactly half an hour late
There will be an afternoon of chitter chatter dedicated

There will be the sunshine you prayed for
All the plants will be in flower
You will harvest sighs of envy
Their attention your hour

Each opinion is a bowl of fruit
Some of them are ripe melons
Beautiful berries sweet and lasting flavor
Some of them are bad apples and sour grapes

Yes they went wrong from the vine
No tartness or future in wine
just bitter, sour balls of unfounded pride
Cautious to attempt to spread their illness between the weak willed

An event where ostentation is dedicated
chitter chatter is skull clicking over insignificant matters
Invisible trophies
False appraisal for an overindulgent ego expecting high grade validation

This man I, Won my life

The dagger scraped my abdomen and fell to the floor with it's intention
If I was being me and it got annoying here's your best one
It didn't rebalance itself I'm still winning soul wealth
It didn't sicken this my earth bound definition of health

So pay the priestess hate or bow to your statue envy
 Sorry to say the center of the universe aint you, never will be
And those feathers are yours when you spill that glue
Got my life back and rushed into prayer and blessings too

I didn't eat the evil or the wish for foul play
I didn't even desire for my enemies to have a bad day
  I may still bear my teeth before your hate has gone
So until then bitter friends, you failed and I got a hard on

I forgive you from deep down and watch you with the words of the eye
it's just bad luck if you hate me and read me online

False on the dotcom

Preaching this is false all the way to the dot com
Gift of the word
Give you a piece of the world sneaky me
Leave a little shit stain on your technology\

Saying the eye is false and denying sight
It wasn't here dressed as your mayor screaming I am the way, the light
It is not full of codes for your machines to decipher
It is not a self help guide to better way of life

Villains of the eye you may not forge style
you may not rewrite my words and authentically beguile

False poet they say

No sponsor, they're screaming it's not real
That my salt is a sugar coated deal
I have lines of unfathomed meaning you claim are happy meals
HINT no standard applicable especially for saps less feel

The lines don't lie, though read these unwind
false is it's business, not mine
Those are ripened accusations soaking damnation
Those are the corruption helmets covering inactive brains

Take a sip be popular in the poison room, train your blasé
burst a bubble or two, take a bite
Pretend my name's death were to be tonight
Poetry all I know they say my false outsight
outright, go and say everything I write is cheap prose though...

Words, they're my friends they've always been there but never to pretend
Yes gathering together to console me
When the world outside screams charlatan
I touch my chin almost troubled many compete to hide their lies
and all the while insist on exposing mine

Well there's a fair few myths and steamed stories to read
but they are what they were written for, fiction from seed
 and if that's not your beach rich you'll get nothing from me.

Further into the universe

The tenseness fell down
The eyelids bring gifts
Goodness knows there's space
First the rings of the future turn up

Then the guitar appears
The great living space cools off
because night and forgiveness could be
The guitar is here

You reach out to play that
Stars are out there
You strum above the black hole
The cords of galaxies relieve your overactive brain

There's music out there
further into the universe

The problem is the answer

Silence hid behind the door and revealed itself more and more
Does the rhythm of life need a meaning?
How much are rules worth by themselves?
Should our quest be for a clause that claims to hold the essence of life

So many millions beautifully lost
Carried by rumor media and ego
Not a trim of truth, and the lie is a handshake and a pouch of narcotics
The escape is such a farce, flickers of being further inside than outside, shock the user

The devil licks the hands of time
As if the norns were on his tongue
The problem is the answer try to build a machine
One that replaces the conscience in world where the farce is mean

You may enjoy the good life the taste and the feel
You turn semi sincere, tears run off cheeks and you face a conclusion
A piece of the world disappears you take a step away from god
Remind me, not to judge those who judge with so much salt in their glands

So much venom hast thou grown scales?
doth thou blood flow cold?
Repeat the magic words of your order
The strong symbol of a death device

Give it a name
The answer doesn't shave evil from hair
doesn't anoint tired, jaded bodies trembling
He says be, be. God lives, god lives but understanding dies

Driven to the reflection wetland

Parties go in grey
Parties with chimneys
Food, hope and hoopla
I was given a ride through the overgrown outskirts

we hit the hill the ghost dropped me off there
cloudy humid afternoon
He went home somewhere a few streets from heaven
I wandered past the darkening mirror like lagoons

Over the wet grass
Without food in my stomach or expectation in my heart
or hoopla in my step or chi
Empty as the road I'd been left on

In these wetlands I would be faced with every defect
Yes the place itself was a dim teacher
the thick grey cloud and large expanses of dark water
Completely no emotion a statue walking

And I look out at the water as if eyes had no meaning or purpose
And I attempt to describe the street behind my eyes
Small nostalgias are crushed on this road to nowhere
Sentimental fantasies drown out there in those mirror like waters

They drown and wail like the wind was alive
but today there is no wind
The soul searches for a feeling to know it still exists
Though neutral stays the mood

Here in this wetland I am the drop of water
The drop that will with the sky's touch discolor the mirror lakes
and purpose found, the mouth will smile.
The tear of joy will run and the soul will keep walking through these wetlands

Invisible but alive

Test the window, When I no longer thee judge

Yes early here we are as lord and serf like way back
And down you come with the hammer
bang it on the window to see if it cracks
Oh you banged those shards well and not one cracked sire

Oh now must you bang them some more just to make sure?
And then the first crack lo and behold shamelessly showed itself
How could it do that? Now we'll have to replace them all fine sir
So excuse the bed ridden and excuse the countless errs

Looks like the eyes have chosen specifics to perfect
Leaving the cluster fuck a muck majesty
Forcing brooms into busy hands
and giving those idle ones comfort they demand

And there's only one thing worse that shouldn't be given encouragement
and that you noble man is my dim judgement

Lonely mansion dweller

O he cast his ceaseless gaze on the young below
Pretends to read the paper and goes back to his hearts focus
For in no other place in the body than the heart can a sick child hide
without reprimand from the mind

The Windows are cleaned daily
Housemaids would notice his eyes, so he kept them on the streets
everyday he looks down through the park eyes scanning the green for sunbathers
He sits window side all day and night watching

Soon the windows to the mansion became eyes
and the neighborhood knew it
The man was no longer human just a freakish voyeur
And the Mansion was the tower looking down on the town

In the shade from inside his mansion he would observe the world
Like an alien from a U.F.O
Like a sick child from a hospital window
Lipreading, following, predicting, willing, curiously desiring to be down there.

Three moons of the storm

Warnings across the windows
Dawn falls with the beach cloud
Grey cloud that curdles
Then tickles the roundness of three moons

When the distraction of raising names and painting walls has been framed
Then maybe we can fix our eyes to the horizon
Each moon shines to celebrate each moon shines to blind
For luck behind this monstrosity of a storm the moons are hardly seen

And begging the modern age to share it's wisdom would be a crooked key for a straight lock
And wishing things were not as they are as the winds mischievously whistle tragic omen
Fear not for the danger comes not from without
Bad intentions start from where people measure hands and wrists and layers of dirt

The light of three moons will never change that
Nor will the telescope that reveals it as an optical illusion.

Build a new one

That cold river overflowed
And took most of what the days gave you to know
The bridges the dams the riverside factories
All gone with the torrents

Clothe yourself for the water is deep and cold
The old factory is gone and so is part of the road
Everything you knew there is underwater
We all smile across the swollen expanse of dark water

Blessed things will come of this
Destruction's fine flavor
The stubborn ones can hold the banks and let water pass over
though that will be their chosen method to self diminish

Over the fine water the new miracle will be created
Not a magical mystical surprise but a thing built of our hands
With plenty of god in our arms
With the sweet flavor of renew in our mouths.

Pillbox

The machine-gunner sweats in there
he's sweating as the best brains contemplate the god particle
His trigger finger stiffens
His thoughts jeer and screech

The walls shake but there's no target
He watches the evacuation
and feels the earth shake again
Air thick inside the pillbox pressing against his rational thinking

His neck jars in the turn as his ear catches the sharp impact of a crane collapsing
He knows there will be no enemy invading the premises today
Or ever after for eternity as the hill the pillbox is on starts to slide into the abyss
Soon the rest of the country, then Europe itself and then the world

The machine gunner lets off a few rounds
And feels the little bunker crumble
then warmth and loud buzzing
a darkening and then a goneness to everything.

What is scratched into the letterbox

One residence at work
The hand is never idle
The surface of the letterbox is clear and clean
That is where I take the knife and scratch my dreams

The road is pizza
We are the table all presenting moving with the eaters
Long streets around cloudy lost afternoons
god whispers expiry dates

Our arrival point is hiding behind seriousness
Shortcuts are fuzzy little animals giggling
They say life is target practice
Though it is the knife cutting into wood

They say life is a journey
though it is the carving out of a message
They say life is a sign
but it's the reading of the message

Slice of the world

Take a taste of the world
A piece of the world full flavored
Eat it up with your eyes
breathe it in

Drink the skies and feast on hills
This city is a banquet and although raw in places
it's all here to be consumed
It's on the dinner plate of your shoes

Seek out the riversides bite them as they ever moist
are easily digested
Gorge yourself on the industrial wastelands
spiced with rusted car, train parts and toxic residue

I can eat it all, my teeth through stone like sharp crazy axes
my tongue tasting even the underside of soot sprayed bridges
and my appetite doesn't end there
I'd like to munch buildings and snack on buses

This little diner, this little spec on which we were spread
I say knives and forks we the unthinkables being human
I say bibs on and hats off the stomachs grumbling
Menu is everything the eye can see, as if the world was a pie - take a slice.

Glue sniffers and the ick don't stick click

They glue sniffers are looked on with eyes of contempt
They can't bath and they can't read
Petrol and glue is their need
Down the back alley where pigeons feed

Flash jackets with good intentions that ridicule good intentions walk by
They have pomp and wit and several strategies for décor enhancement
They purvey as if to sell a message until they reach the wretches
Voiceless the smells and sights shock them out of criticizing

One of the glue sniffer kids wheezes on the fumes
the flash jacket get a whiff of my CK scents turns his face in disgust
One of the older glue heads thinks about robbing them
But heels that would sell souls to please the elite start clicking

The flash jackets hold their breaths as the glue sniffers argue and whistle
briskly the flash jackets reach their café of the all knowing contemporary standard
safely and soundly they begin to make the transformation
back to sipping overpriced coffee and judging and complaining about the rest of their flash friends

To think a thought

I was just being me when
bam something came into my head
it was a thought,
Oh my I am thinking a thought

What is this thought, my brain says to itself,
what is this distraction?
where is it going?
far far from reality, oh my.