To Saint Joaquin

Two alarms invade our sleep,
wake our minds from colored spells so deep

We roll out of the sea of dreams like porpoises
On a shore between wakefulness and sleep

Light goes on as do clothes
Toilet stops and breakfast bowls

Up twelve steps towards the car
Street so calm dawn still dark

Turn ignition and scream down Boschetti
Toward the metro lines metal spaghetti

Out of the station, sky still dim
Into the streets of saint Joaquin

Down the street and around the corner
Panga of pinga wanting coffee of the morning

Looking at the clock, oh it's too late
Cross the street and go through the gate
And commence our long 4 hour wait.

Choice between war and peace

The spider and the wasp employ their fangs and sting cautiously
The spider hangs precariously
Deliberating over the consumption of the wasp
The wasp, musing on exacting it´s deadly barb seriously

The cobweb is infected by pious bacteria,
 it eats away at the weave, freeing the sanguine hymenopteran
which heaves it´s prong toward the eight legged sentinel
The web starts to tear and both animals vibrate in hysteria

the threads of weave blow toward the low hanging tree
The spider has an easy distance to leap
The wasp is almost free, but pretends his leg is ensnared
So closer does the wiley spider dare to sneak

The ensuing exchange will lead to certain death on both sides
A feast for the constant emmet below as fang and sting collide
For neither creatures could draw themselves away
naming destiny the onus for their fray

The choice between war and Peace
never their´s to make

Existance as a masterpiece

I´ve skipped shores shamelesssly landing in places
Where the rock was high and jagged, though I climbed
I´ve leapt seas, the crashing waves agree that each land has a face
Wings on the clock as it flies, my accumulated jetlag, just in time

I will land again but in a greater world
One that longs to know my dimensions and magic
Manifesting dreams like sunsets across the dusky sky
And realizing them like an acrobatic dragon before I die

Thursday can´t jump

Admire this Friday night heat
Here at the hammer overcoming htese misunderstandings
Nothing in the well, except you are ready to love
Always dealing and allowing a banker of sorts

That I admire that subtle power, the one that crushes frustration
That moves you on to new amazing thoughts like a train on love
I admire trust and what brings out the best in us, as if thursday jumped
Life in essence naturally aware

Bliss won´t save you though
It´s nothing more than a crawl space last working day of the week
Trouble is the one teacher fickle but eagle
Evolving common people in the heat

Not all of life
that key made of bad thoughts, mind static and imbalance
That´s the key to astray, Friday night door, distress your dream
Fun land where more can be learned in realms of chãos where you ricochet between between the poles of emotion

Love compassion and good sense dominate fully
Unprotected these reservoirs keep growing like the heat
Friday night feeling subsides it´s illogical allies
lacked the energy to guide

Care full

Wearing that armour

all the blades are inside

caring about the laughter

After each deride

Hooks for their opinions

when they´ve all shit for brains

They say your ego is an onion

each layer quite insane

Fear

I see your fear
Let it down man
you won´t convince anyone
I see your desperation

What is so important you need to tell us now
what illuminates from you isn´t bible verse
but fear from the heart of you

Don´t stand away
or make those big claims
what are you afraid of, if the heavens are behind you?

Hear me let your fear subside
for you cannot cure or convert a single soul
because in fear you confide

Don´t fracture or rip when the feeling ebbs
Rest your Faith in good truth
No medieval slogans

Buried under a shopping mall in São Paulo

Look for the solution
There's a pattern to each revolution
An old riddle that few have time to squeeze
to reveal meaning

We've innovated the concept of anything lewd
We need someone to blame for our uncaring attitudes

Easy answers are like slogans
T shirt words and lyrics to
the most common folk songs
It's philosophy flavor low cholesterol

Black and white footage of the way they use to dictate
Presidents a symbol a target, she's our scapegoat escape

Oh slip back into those great games
and teams and identities
memorize the defeats and victories
Give your life a color and a meaning

Water restrictions when it's flooding, focus on sports
25 reais just to go to the beach, as the noble ones extort you

So what's your opinion worth if you've never reflected
voting for the death penalty and screaming in church that god resurrected
Fear seems to drive through you like a dictator in a city
Flags flying symbols and colors you don't even know the meaning of

We need anti-contraception priests to give us sexually transmitted disease
Can we get widows to wear black and poor states to remain in lack.

But you clap and salute because of your passion to gesture
Your indifference is tons of sidewalk rubbish that festers
There's no medication for your lack of concentration
Your church is fun, your team won it's simply time for celebration

Another ton of trash on the street rotting in the damn heat
Oh Mum and Dad buy me a ticket for Miami

Those fires near the cresent

When I put my hands together
When I contemplate the milky way
I feel that strange force surge
I feel the planet´s sway

Compassion can´t be simply dropped on people like bombs
 So that they inhale and might feel for another human being

Those fires on our precious Earth burn on
fueled by the rage and indifference
If we only have one life time on this ball in space
Perhaps it might be righteous not to disgrace

If Godliness and Holiness are attained through good deed and not preach
Maybe Faith could move fanatics to create Peace

Mercy because the violence they impose creates hell on Earth
And our thoughts and actions just make it worse
Pride and dogma and middle eastern curses
That make humans forget to consider one life´s Worth

Lay down your gun, there´s nothing to say
Pray for this lost ball in the milky way
Heaven won´t come to you, with hate in your heart
Will you submit to evil? As it pulls the world apart?

They say there's no soul

Who in fact is that?
Is it really the person you mention?
Might it be the shadow the reflection?
You left the room knee up and gesturing toward the door

Is it really that person you want to capture for who they are?
Did you color them right?
The photo itself catches the skin
It's pigment

He stepped outside himself they say
and how did he do all that in a day?
So what was he all along?
Could we all be much more that a score of words

Can we agree it's not accuracy
A true person cannot be reduced to a biography
Comic attempts to catch them as they walk out the door
describing those four to five steps before they leave us

Let me turn to you
can I tell you what your shape is?
can you tell me mine?
Kaleidoscope critics finding angles

You make your way to the door
mistaking yourself for movement
All of you for a second
The camera clicked and that was you

Is that you?
Don't walk away or be denial
Without a camera between people
None of those critical eyes

The blue demon

Hey blue teeth demon
Using the darkness of the mind as sanctuary
There's nowhere safe
For this brain is sovereign and loyal

Out you jump to bear your teeth when there's a blessing
Yet none grip in fear at your appearance
Demon you may not take up residence in any mind
Least of all mine

And emptiness comes and goes like rubbish trucks humming along inevitable
But violence of the soul is something that we no longer buy the ingredients for
The blue writing under the sleeping you is a false covenant that you must suffer again
but a fair few nightmares you relive in vain

And as it's blue flame and not yellow
And the thing that lurks is not mystery
but to the truest part of my real spirit it is blasphemy yes blasphemy
Not the wonder of children where new worlds are created

Not the checkerboards of generations giving gifts
even after death... Nay it is none of these spirit bounties
but a destroyer that would lay waste were it not for the strong arm
which pushes the strong hand

The demon which cannot bear the flavor of love
The demon is slowly extinguished writhing
I stamp the last little sign of life out of the demon
It thought there would be space here, yet only for love

Never can it live again here
No amount of turmoil
No whim desire
No fleeting care to flaunt, I put it into the flame from whence it came

Life will be humble
Life will heal me
Life will know I'm not alone
Life is my only hope

Strength of the current

The river almost took you away from me
I searched for you in Toledo
The washroom had a dead body on the floor
Jesus swore it wasn't you

For we swam idyllically the day was warm
and the water a friendly dragon
Abundant with fish and life clear inside
Like life we dove in to be taken for a ride

You were washed so far down
while I was busy looking at the fish
And like the season ends you were gone
Vanished

Then the dwarf took my hand as we searched for you
The girl I'd spent the last two years trying to sweep out of her shoes
But the dwarf smiled he knew the whole world was a farce
he led me there to the washroom

To where a body lay
wrapped in a blanked on a bed of hay
Panic hit my throat like an outside force
But death hadn't touched my girl

And the dwarf beamed
Slow illusions and slow emotions
warm my heart
warm the water of this dark river that I adore

Slow running eternal
miracle cord
I'll hold my tears
for she swims in the same river as I do

Neither of us will drown
No matter the strength of the current

The muddy jungle

Home is in the hills
They make us feel alive
Until the helicopter touches down
and leaves us with enough supplies

The jungle is a short distance from here
I'm in the long grass like it was hair
Into the lonely shade
but I'm not alone

everything is moving
living and dying all at the same time
The line back to civilization
is half a cup of Pfizer

Yes the truth is easy for those
who never had to learn the lie by heart
learn it's horrid serrated shape
learn of it's revulsion to nature

The lie of the cities
appeal built like a monumental perfidious statue
Like a heroes profile adulterated
Just manufactured surfaces

The muddy jungle
Is the only feast
the only way to find a release
Those rains and those valleys

Let me breathe truth there

Skaters leave puberty

Skaters came in and to drop off their fathers
Old timers who´d come to be a part of the chaos
Dropping off their fathers like they were baggage before a flight
Still trendy and provocative, clothes city screens, hair of sunlight

Skaters coming in to add to the weight but I won´t sink
We can´t be blasé like them
Forbidden drinks only they can drink
They lost youth, but still pretend

bringing in their old timers
like missiles
The only caution they wear
in the absense of their smiles

And each trick
is a vanity
Is a wrinkle on their father´s cheeks

Every brick of slang they sling
is a colorless wall
where my graffiti sings

And as each of their old books
take up space on the shelves
My heavenly spray paint goes to hell

They are never truly free
No amount of nonconformity
or new expression vanity
could ever really liberate from their need
for exhibiting

Not a random poet

It´s not a random poet that can impress you
One that recites lines he wrote that seem to see through
As if he caught a piece of you literarily on the spiritual lamina
As if his pen was an abstruse camera

Whom would that be?
a person capable of such a way to see
To turn his words into the way
your thoughts form feeling

Not a random poet, not an easy quack or a common oink
But one that was chosen by the phrases he coined
No not by fingers pointing
Or radio announcements ads for ointment

Not on t.v or in the paper either
or by some secret society chamber lever
No I was chosen by none of that
No "life isn´t fair" republican
nor "everyone should care" democrat

You´d send a wave of labels that´d wash over me
a Thousand you could stick to my words
but not one that holds truthfully

Not a random poet you can
sum up in a stanza

Loving words
 invert the adverse,
 success is my fan
For I cook delicious verse on the page
 like it was a pan

No evil machines

Deep beneath, where metal is manipulated
where tentacles push buttons
and evil is given vitality
The fiends of the universe attempt to kidnap the virtuous
In their industrial factories that cover whole planets

They attempt to corrupt the souls of leaders
who created generations of utopia

Through hellish laboratories
where the fiends engineered lava to replace blood

Filling the body and connecting the head
Yet goodness wasn't vanquished
Minds of the good reproduced their true hearts
and wreaked havoc in the damned subterranean corridors
of the fiend´s dystopian realms

Breaking their machines and resetting their engines
freeing allies and sabotaging every diabolical device

In the bus as Harry Potter

The world is made up of buses
Busy children imitating harry potter
buses give them a sense of belonging
they roll between buildings collecting the children and the money

Giant elevators lift the buses into the skyscraping platforms
The children go up and people from past lives come down
peering out of the windows wondering what could have been
All this movement guarantees a new Harry potter saga

All these children dedicate their money like a tithing
so that they may sit with the faint marker line of a scar
across their foreheads
Counting their coin as if they hadn't been given enough
As if they were reciting a spell

Fighting for sport

They long to fight
In their lost afternoon
they choose weapons like unnecessary wounds
In the bar beside the abandoned buildings
the ones that were bombed last week

Drinks and bragging eat Sunday
jokes and jeers about the losses
Those ready for the ring fighting their fear
then losing their blood take injuries
and strange knowledge home

choosing their weapons excitedly
losing their flesh and blood as if a ritual

Up at this house

Here up at this house
This choice, this day, this sky, this life
I swear I can almost remember standing on the edge
when there was no such thing as time

They must have warned me back then
but also reminded me of all the wonderful things that would happen
Under the awning with the aroma of a feast
still a humid bright day

if only everlasting life could be like this said my friend
my ally, my own spirit
My parent´s colors changed as did the day
their desires became different shapes

On this house on the hill
Symbolic for something
with feasts and luxuries I didn´t ask for
and gratitude owns me but I don´t know it´s intentions

I look up at my mother talking to me with her face
My father gesticulating
They were children yesterday
same eyes and in this weather, none the duller

My spirit pulls me toward the limelight
clocks and fine clothes, it passes so quickly
I´d just like to stay under the awning
enjoying life that such an eager source furnished for me

The chinese aunt(restroom seeker)

Oh our Chinese aunt ate until regret
Full from yesterday and today she's over fed
waiting for the toilet, though she has come too late
Because there's a dirty queue, where a thousand people wait

Oh no, clogged now, where did she go wrong?
Impatiently pushing her squeaky trolley along
The begger jeers at her as if reciting a song
food falling from his mouth, drunk all week long

The queue looms, the begger' s words empty and bland
Maybe the same mercy that put a sandwich in the beggers hand
could relieve our Chinese aunt of her stomachs great demands

Tolkien spoke to me

Tolkien Spoke to me in a dream
Of the worlds unseen
Of the love that exists in mystery
and Tolkien said to me

Had it not been for fantasy
We would take every tale legend and scripture literally
Had we not the disposition for imaginings
What boring animals we would be


Not all those who wander are lost
JRR Tolkien

Washed in education

In the caravan that lay intact despite the flood
A student wrestled to overcome his impulses
The rain started once more and it was time to dress
Torrents of water ran along the road

He tried to extract his life meaning
from the songs he liked and wanted to hear more
he strived  to be more trustworthy
but urges and whims played an internal war

Teachers dressed up to be
their careers
exceptions were random
class silence rare

Students tried on every gown in the caravan
and slowly formed a mirror

The Caprocian

Some eastern land he swore, as the family waited for food
Some foreign language he swore, but it was one I could speak
And the cook had promised flavorsome dishes
Yet hours later the awkward conversation was the only thing touching the mouth

And they waited, the miracle of food hadn't appeared
And the origin of our friend was unknown
In a city district where all there was were restaurants and people selling food
not a bite

Some confusing half babble and positive nods
We were going hungry while our patience was getting overfed.

Your house

In your house there's a hug waiting
There's a warm family
People step toward your gate
The sharp steel ends above show us there's a limit

In your house there s enough love
Such a communal one
such a real one
and laughter is your creed

Our uncombed future in the muddy water

Spend the day at the lake
What have you won
boys out there careless hair
looking out over the muddy water

The grass and trees hug the cabin
The grain in last years log of firewood
spells summer
and we are supposed to swim, to swim out in that muddy water

We raise hands together thoughtless
witnessing the sky
it now owns our minds
water up to our knees

We are supposed to swim
spend the day at the lake
win summer as it rapidly slides past
grain in the wood disappearing into the flame

Suns reflection robbing us of our focus always trying to fix the horizon
And as we held hands and felt the water reach our neck
we could tell there was no way back
The cabin was so far back there on the shore

There would be no return whispered the small waves
and smiles appeared on or unsuspecting faces
arms turned in and moved us into the depths
We would make it to the other side before sundown
or die trying

Something I can create

Something that humms and brings me up to speed
Breathes life back into me
A bottle of mineral water safe blessing
To refresh as most of us continue wrestling

This great ladder they decided to let me climb
And with each rung they can have a rhyme
For I've only craved one thing over the years saints
And that's a few more shards of real light not just bright paint

Something I can taste quasi-sublime
sustain me for a lifetime and warm my mind
heat my heart
Blow the whistle to start

The step up to greater visions
so that my hands and mind can play like they're living
That I can now know the moment before the world tricked me with their games
Bring into being a wonderful idea and push into reality like a train

Something I can create and polish
Something I can give away and still cherish

Wilson's pride

Wilson will you die today
Will the streets take a bite out of you
That heavy shield wounds you every time son
Child in the sun some don't even see the human in you

And each street seems to have teeth
Your guts crave the hard stuff
Your beneath and it's all rough
concrete and merciless days I see you try to hide your eyes when I pass
hide the part of you that is still to die

Ok Wilson let go of your pride
As the night sharpens it's knives
You were just a little kid when you were betrayed on all sides
Aggression swept over your body and soul like the ocean of hell

Blood sweat and intoxication
Each infection you live through
Each terrible disease you have accumulated
your body shakes like a dog in death throes insane
Not a tear from your eye as you feel the withdrawls
again and again

Expressionless as if they can't own you
The concrete owns us all street by street
tooth in the rows of teeth bloodthirsty
A constant grin for your addictions and afflictions son

For the world of pain you've seen
each drop of pride has justified it
The stench of your dying organs
don't raise fear as you wobble outside the bar
Not a tear in your eye

I see you as a child sitting there again old man
those days of rain and poison
The extended hand you shun as the city has it's way with you
The garden contrasts with the dead look across your face

Predestinarian(calamity pride)

They had dreams to achieve
but lifting a finger was almost painful
Ideas want to arrive but motivation leaves
facial expressions strive to convey hopeful

Forming a plan sounds like new clothes
but those folks don´t wear them
Most live day to day like common hobos
Deep down they don´t care, but it´s nice to pretend
Always going for the job when the office is closed

Feeling sorry for yourself is not a good anchor
Lack of inspiration opens no doors
You call ambition the devil´s dice roll
That without it you´ll have humility or a better soul
Pretending righteously one has no life desires, no goals

How this quaint little world encourages complacency
for people disguise themselves as winners waiting patiently
As time ticks by and a piece of heaven in the sky is described
by the pastor who preaches pre-determined anti-strive
Anti-abortion calamity pride

Yes great Mayors, preists and public lords of the flies
Blame it on the devil and the sinners and their lies
That you can´t plan, execute, create and provide
Blame it on the heathens or the devout in the wrong Faith
That the streets should be littered with filth and disgrace

But deep down my friend noone else is to blame
not the government, or Portugal, Italy or Spain
It is you who won´t move, except for a bribe
Football fanatic,
predestinarian pride

Joyful flood

Good floods have come
The ones that fill empty lakes
The joyful feeling that runs in us all
has touched the sky and let the rain come

Get into a dream the way you do a vehicle
Wake into the world wary and cheerful
Try to take and the world will tax us
Give and the bounty dances, as if she were yours

The mind that forces it

Where arrogance hides
and denial abides

It´s a thing that slides with the hand across the side of the head
pushing the hair back into place before the mind speaks over the heart
And the heart gets forgotten for a time as the ego starts
The braggart tone is in the voice and it rings out as that person tries with force
and all the children who are adults that didn´t have
 the benefit of a mentor
can´t learn from those of us who worship the mind grab
 while the heart is ignored

Greatness is eons passed these lands of self deserving
Comparison can embedd itself into our perception
Arrogance is the knife that severs all connections
It hides somewhere people don´t want to look
When words are like mirrors they turn into claws
people who force themselves to be, run for the door

That braggart tone is a voice that rings
The only thing you hear is thoughts as they forever sing

Build that sunshine

Mother and Father
Build the Sunshine to calm cool sounds
Long roads that by pass little quaint villages
Like the one running through your town

Life´s path changing so much, it´s rhythm and paces
the terrain all rocky and insane in places
Open arms mother and father there´s no fight
construct these great things during the day light

Wonder for half of the answers remain unanswered
Half of them fly like birds and swim like fish
Out of your eyes mother and father see it and wish
learn to wish, so far from me yet so close

Life´s a wheel through the ages
attracting the sun´s admiration
Keeping half a sack of happiness in case it rains
opening it, now here´s those sunrays you created

Mother and Father join me as walk down and up
the surreal grassy slope where no folks go ever
but we were blessed and permitted to go there
we were shone upon and free there

Oh mother and father
Take a night´s sleep to dream a dream
created by me
About a Peace so still, it promises glee

Warmth and satisfaction to every sense
I throw you that as you snooze
don´t Wake just catch it
and let it invigorate you forever

Excluded

The popularity competition some people turn life into
Left out of the newspaper like an article untrue
That's right left me out like a loaf with green spots
A piece of fruit with a rot

Just to soothe the quick hot impulses of favoritism's elation
Just to get that fast care bear hugging heart flinging declaration
But someone has to be left out to make the chosen feel good

Like toys in a play pen picked up and hugged or flung over the side
To be excluded, unheard, denied
And from the other side of the pen I had to question
Why did you exclude me, why do I not get a mention?

The shape of love

Sculpting the shape of love
The shape of a certain love
statue of a passion, for my wife
each chisel impact crashing, like each drama of life
like urgent feelings, emotions through existance´s jagged fife

The empty place in me questions
what are you making, where do you invest?
but my mouth doesn´t say
life is such a rough stone, why can´t it be soft clay?
such a challenge to sculpt love out of

Slowly becoming the very shape I have created
The emptiness is not me, I chiseled off the lies
The form it´s taking is me, the sculpture is I
solid and whole embracing the shape of my soulmate
Helping the fields of my heart fertilize and rotate

Not to drink son

What a hot day there cattle, long grass, soft shallow hills and grazing cows somewhere in the whole mess.
looking down into a ditch, steam almost visibly lickling off the surface
looking into the clear yellowy water to the bottom two feet down where the mud is waiting for something to step into it and cloud the whole puddle.

Oh that yellowy clear transparent water soothed my head
Just looking into it waiting for something to swim out but it was empty
and over the coming days would just dry out.
The heat of the day provoked sweat on the back of the neck
slowly and freshly moving down toward the back.

And that water still calling the ditch itself a mouth in the land saying something to the sky
and pondering could give you a Thousand answers.
But one truth is that there was a reason beyond it all, there was a place reserved for
these eyes to look into this water just for the sake of deep meaningless thought.

Deep meaningless thought as a remedy for the effects of so many unquestioning people
so many happy go Lucky dodo´s in the sun waiting for dutch sailors.
Yet it is I that should be paralleled with extinct brainless birds
as not a shred of sense is made glaring into the yellowy ditch water.

But it sooths more than a bed for the weary
more than a drink for the thirsty.
and for this one strange conundrum I would say...
so much food in the word "Why"

Venting to the drizzle

Talk to the 6am drizzle drifting across each avenue
Letting the Wind help churn it across the city
I´m talking to it, telling it my problems from the other side of the windscreen
Monday morning anxieties all lumped up, ready to be spat out

Drizzle didn´t change direction get heavier or lessen
day got lighter and dawn completely manifested
my mouth kept on trumbling out with the crap
spilling it onto the motorway

Dreary monday early morning drizzle, the unescapable disappointment
eyes struggle to capture all movements of the road
and the heart doesn´t get any lighter attempting to solitarily vent the load
What a conversation that part of your brain is playing to balance the dialogue
between you and grey wet monday

Wash it yourself

Hope is a fine cloth
wiping that window
Those eyes out to the world
Those lenses

Yes wash them
Be rich in thought and let that tickle your vision
Hope is like silk
such a commodity

When this glass that we see the world through is stained
and we´ve tried cleaning it but hope is as dirty as pain
Not a clean cloud of thought transpires from inside the glass
And tiresome habits and concerns pile up nasty

Oh how do we polish it when it´s so stained
even tears and elbow grease seem in vain
so force yourself to stare into the monday morning rain
but that doesn´t soothe the days and weeks of strain

Hope is a fine cloth
that accumulates filth so fast
and if you have no basin of hot water nearby
If no one offers soap

Wash it yourself or you´ll not cope
because not many really care if you fall
or if you float

The broken time rod

The clouds let the sun through still
Grassy hills and there pops up the couple
The time machine is a metal rod they hold
They twist it again and disappear to another time

People dream so deeply of an ideal reality
utopia utopia I can see you
emerald green, being created by the couple and their time machine
Their laughter makes it possible to believe

Sun gets through the clouds
Time is fine tuned to make life more livable
The modes and customs seem so medievil
Oh time travelers please erase them all

Let me have a smile for a life time
long contented hours, comfort and satisfaction
new and strange friends here to stay
misplaced by the time travelers

The sun shines through the clouds more and more
The next few decades will be an epoch to adore

That broach you borrow

I've seen the broach tree
and so much want from a people of quick satisfactions
On the tree I saw the purple stone in a middle of a gold necklace
Much like one of those wanting eyes trapped in a train tunnel window

And some search for something plastic to carry around like a toy
As proof they can be distracted in such a civilized manner
So lost, held by the movement, trying to blame it on the government
Just a click away from falling into the new remix of ridiculous

I've seen the trinket they've been selling
accumulating value like a boy scout
The old country's cities they've made a hobby of bombing
The face of the vending machine teaching itself to pout

They slide their fingers across the screens and leave the trash
side of the street conveniently quick buy litter and borrow

A city round trip

Slide into the screens and walls the city mean
One single raindrop makes it's way between the buildings
It shoots toward the umbrella a lost son what
It slides like you should, off it all

down down to join the moisture
The purpose, the street's deep cracks of wonder yep
Heaven's wet in such a day fellow deluded
The raindrop transparent like the best of us nude

Not like the strugglers with broken umbrellas
forgetting yesterday like a dog's tail wags
Kicking around for shelter
like the bums, pigeons and wind filled plastic bags

And the question raises it's shameless and burning head
How have I become a part of the city
What part of my brain is wired up to this havoc
What kind of habitual curiosity am I really

What king of spider am I
How many expressions will my face perform
Sliding across the pavement
where hundreds insist on gripping

There are truly no owners here save the city itself
It screams orders that street life obeys
 Only the raindrop is free and for such a short time
Evaporating from the dark tarr road like a miracle
A blessed round trip

The falling moth

The falling moth has no recollection
It just longs to plunge itself back into the blinking fluroscent light
It bounces off the long lamp glass
Dusty wings again and again

It is just a small piece of the night
Born and bred in the darkness
Always struggling back to the light
Maybe it´s thirst to ascend is quenched by it´s futile quest

What insignificant speculation
flying in spirals
And if a creature as this is so content
What stirrs me to question

The falling moth flys back 1000 times
th first time as the last
Does it hide a smile under it´s facial hair
does it have a crazy insight to share?

Most definitely no memory of it
just a random piece of the night
In insect form
Unaware of the gecko´s apetite

Flying in spirals
a tiny piece of daylight denial
A clothes chewing fiend
bouncing off the outdoor lights as the world is half in dream

I used to know a country

I used to touch Germany
Youth whipped themselves with style
Brewed angst from elderly´s glares and stares
Ubahn hipsters training themselves to initimidate

I use to caress Australia
My hands would tingle over it´s sunsets
warm over it´s deserts
Hot and rough arguing with the sun

I held hands with Britian
familiar grasp, pasty skies
The flavour of my origin
Used to almost make me cry

Now I embrace Brazil
Kiss it passionately
Breathe it in and eat it
Lay it down so i can swim in it

Heaven at your convenience

The corner gas station where heaven was a show
We could see it´s glow and how we longed to be in it
Oh illusion kiss me for long minutes
My eyes are coffing up the credit

The divine light of existance
light so deep it´s hard to miss
Oh let me stand under the awning
Learn about eternity in bliss

Like a hollow hornblowing ferry
leaving with me on it, set on staying merry
taking me across the abyss
farewell to suffering no time to blow a kiss

This corner gas station is heaven
It´s glow invites us, makes us feel real
They may just water down their fuel
but it´s all about how they make me feel

Touch my words, extract the credit you need
to buy the idea, another fine kilo of Faith
Another fable growing from this seed
So get in your car and race
down here where a litre of the afterlife is getting more and more expensive

Dia do poeta

Ainda tenho problemas em escrever em português com perfeição
Em formar parágrafos, versos e refrãos
Será que eu consigo esconder beleza através das minhas palavras
Para que o sentido pode andar através da sua cabeça

Hoje é dia do poeta, aqui em Brasil
Aquelas esquisitas pessoas que escrevem para ficar tranquilo
Cujos palavras causam feitiços
feitiços falando direito com realidade, como se for um vizinho

Poesia que abri como flores nesta dia de primavera
Ou mares de mil palavras surgindo para recitar no litoral
E nem todas as linhas tem palavras finais que rima
Mas que transforma em algo que cria um clima

Naquele espaço especifico da sua mente
aonde a palavra "existir" cai pesadamente
Sob sua lupa, sua interno lente
Aí você ver que não tem regras de gramatica

Apenas um gringo com licença poetica
  

Get a pet

You are just breathing on your pet
Such a small delight
Oh it's very much like a child
But it is an animal

They snuggle on the sofa
You bought food for them at the store
You'll be their zero option savior
clever and generous

Loving that fur
you found a place to put love
Where the claws don't scratch as deep
and the thing just wants to sleep

You made yourself look like a caring person
choosing an animal with the right amount of hair
Now you can shine that side of your personality
just breathing on your pet

Feeding your pet
giving yourself a reason to live through the pat
Through the baby talk
And untouched soft toys

Justice and the reef

Could I find justice out there in the sea
In the court shaped by the coral and rock of the reef
There I could count fairness, or know the law
Open the world, like my own front door

The baptism is there five meters under the surface
where color moves in unison with the water´s purpose
The city limousine awaits on the coast road
slip out of the water like a ghost toad

Step into prestige off that path that followed from where the fish graze
The door swings open and the grey paint shines in the hustle of the tropical haze
On the whim of a jury, cases, clients and injustices will amaze

And if the world is one big food chain, that the law simply maintains
You´ll just be decorating those thousands of grievances and serious complaints

Like a ghost toad riding an overgrown sea horse almost invisible but valiant

With a purple appearance, I rise from the waves
I exit the reef and reach for my bravery
Each step onto the shore is a gobsmacking awakening
As gravity hits my joints and muscles shaking me

The tidal rock stained "Hello" with algae
and the curb of the road and it´s black hot tarr inviting me
To climb aboard justice´s fancy limousine
Dripping wet I enter, as I did the sea

God love the sea

Casting off and the shore is green to grey
Want to see the sea this way
The ship that comes and goes
dips and sways

It´s casting off from the docks
Going out with the tide
friendship with the water
barnacle handshake

Some want the sail rolled up
No flag no Wind catcher to greatness
Yet that cloth will be opened and just before the storm
before the next hurricane is born

God love humble
God love still
but complacency at sea
is the fastest way to kill

God love humour
and innocent tricks
though making unnecessary waves
could bring on sea sickness

So cast off with Faith from a firm dock
Ride the high seas
Let it rock your boat, your mind and your beliefs

The freshly forested face

Life´s picky
on the edge of the bush
stands a child
face obscured by the leaves

leaves that will one day fall to reveal

Life´s a little choosy
and the moist ferns
huddle in the middle of the bush
Mother canopy above
falling leaves loose like milk
kind dampness in the air soothing all animal senses

On the edge of the forest where light opens up
yeah right there stands a child
looking into the world impatiently
it is not the rustling of the leaves nor the falling of pods or seeds
that distracts this one

For he knows back out there he will count everything include the minutes till death

life´s a little choosy a little imposing but very stuck in you
curious in a way
around the freshly forested face of the bush child

Feeding the morning sky it´s dinner

Dawn comes earlier now
Light out
calling
present

Breakfast alittle brighter
another year getting ready to jump
days slipping into each other
No more interruptions

Dawn widens like a smile
we´ll know the grace of it
early risers such as we
calling
present

Night is being cut
knife the summer hours
Food the darkness
Light has an appetite
Saliva slipping from it´s mouth
Light
Poised

Rae didn't barter

Awfully polite
Reached for dynamic
fingers almost touched
gesture almost too much
Rae didn't barter

Hopelessly slap happy
barely balanced on the earth
wiggly wobbly pinch of charm
genuine eye to eye one hand on your arm
He didn't negotiate

Caught between heart's quest and chemical grace
funny expressions pressing their way out of his face
like he was selling something worth buying
Attempting to cook something good looking out of his crooked smile
Rae wasn't taking

Ah ambition is a well loved tree
as tree huggers who care little for nature must agree
for so many twigs and branches to follow
When the grin doesn't win inside those trunks that have become hollow
That fish got away Rae

One boy´s pain

What will we do when the pain of one boy stretches so down deep
He welcomes sadness yet it doesn´t do him any favours
And his ego and his attention seeking conspire to slay a saviour
He can´t beat back his tears and he fears it´ll stop him from growing.

when the pain of one boy makes it´s way into the world
so brittle and pseudo confident, he fell last time he tried bold
and his tears never disappeared but marked him like clown tatoos
Still pretending everything is fine when his heart is bruised

The pain of one boy overlaped the day as other children stopped playing
Oh the wonder that welled in their ears and eyes
for what sorrow could this be so harrowing and for them so unwise
The boy sneered and walked off as if it were all a joke
But the tears would reappear, the burn would provoke
yet another flame and sultry smoke

Are you yourself?

The mystery is yourself
over life you seem to shape
color and discolor
brighten and fade

The illusions own you well
obedient and good intentioned
Each part of you formed by each part of your life
where ever you go and do, you are that

Your shape changes over a lifetime
thoughts and feeling raining on you
Driving you to become more yourself
more of who you think you are

Beaten into shape by the city you live in
moulded by Family and friends
Inside the shell you could be mathmatically predicted
A formula concocted by it´s surroundings

Is your existance a beautiful random occurence
or simply a small block in the mousemaze
The world around you, shapes you
Elegantly predictable

The tubes in your heart

Across a lifetime of events emotions spew
all suburbs in a city of you
All trendy must have colorful clothes
adorned staircases, attempting high flight over low woes
promises of something better bigger brighter

And then there is me trying to heal your cut
catching a wave in the sea of your blood
it carries me into the tubes of your heart
passing through all of those suburbs alarmed
almost no room to grow the love farm

Then i´m suddenly pumped out into the pasture
of one of the dreams you fertilize with desire pure
Wants and needs beyond food and shelter and bills to pay
A supply of love to clean your heart´s narrow highways
And me in your suburb eating holes out sideways
The way a mouse in a cheese factory plays

No pesticide

Old dog
There´s a war raging out there, craving correction
I´d like to be able to carry you old dog
There´s just too many bullets headed in my direction

I don´t like seeing you sweat in the darkness
Or shiver as the enemy arrives, but don´t bark
I confront them again and again in different dimensions
each time with new and improved ammunition

But that doesn´t erase the hurting my dog
And you won´t flinch with my hand on your lap
just curl up lad and take your nap
For they send bombs to explode me

They conspire in a million ways to destroy me
and their violence simply grows steadily
and I let go, it all becomes as hot as the sun´s glare
Where is the power to overcome, old dog, where?

Fleas, ticks and bloodsuckers I put aside old dog
I don´t have your pesticide, I´m not your animal god
I´ve got a hundred battles all burning holes in the week
My nemesis´ missiles are set to seek me

The space between neighbors

The distance between neighbors
From one hill to the other
sailing over for a cup of sugar when the floods come
Green pastures all year long

garage space
and outdoor bragging
Tiring monologues about pets and children
Out here in the country side where residents predict the rain

Reality leans and stretches in a different manner out here son
Living between seas of grass
Neighbors and Family have become one
The yearning for contact

Love´s on the way( Elliott sonnet to my wife)

Love this whole year
easy to do in spring
Some of these defects are hard to handle
each of them can perform, recite and sing

See the love in them
See yourself riding in the same saddle enchanted
The lush leaves our horse eats from the stem
of the wayside shrubs our admiration planted

Call me your adventure
Dare to be romantic
On this journey you´ve been lured
Don´t let your feelings turn to panic

For our journey will be long
and if diversions of the heart should find us
in a glance, a touch, a phrase or a song
we should wake more eagerly, outsmarting the urge to fuss
And sleep more soundly, knowing love has hardened trust

Somewhere, sometime

The empty space of the downtown central city buildings
Huge gray block brick as fierce and unrelenting as an eternal storm cloud
Unwelcoming and austere
Yet in I go to fly the empty spaces
To live in the warm darkness
crowds share disorder like it was food
but the walls keep them out

The passage away from the future
somehow back to the past
To taste the air from back then
Ride the river, smile nostalgia
Humid visions of experiences that still touch you in the present

Then pushed back into the vortex of the future
Where some will see their fortune change inside the duration of finishing an appetizer
Tours through old cities where everything seems to grow
The boat maker's blessing
The fortunes and journey seem to intertwine
as if to say it never stops moving

High tides further than normal

Sometimes there is no other place to sit than among the doldrums
And the sympathy circus was shuffles and humms
Cheeks made to hold a smile, a happy shellfish, one to distract from the tides of unsettling events
One to carry you like a bouquet hammock attached to the breeze

So doldrums be damned
and lack be ignored like the clams
For dreams of living in a smile are beginning
near the rocky seashore distractions never hinder

Loss never took
The yellowy brown color of the sand touched life upside down
Moving in and out seducing the soles
paying short visits by Wind and water

Not a fish on the line
Not a fantasy
Not a drop
Yet relief has come because I lust the dryness left by the tide

all the way up
that beautiful coastline
sitting out of the tides reach
Yet it has passed to provoke my sleep

Soul farmer

I, the explosion
I, the scattering dwarves in blue police cloaks
I, the burning car
I, the dreamer and soul farmer

look at the billion blades of grass
each jutting up from the earth
Each a tiny reason
each a tiny clue

The grass, tickets to existence
When will it be mowed?
I, the question
A creature of words

You, the reader
the drinker
to this flavor of unprovable ramification
To this collage insight

I, the cradler of babble's wheat
The opener of strange fish
A desire to imply much more
For words themselves are circumscribed for I mean to reach higher

I, the craving to exist
to express
and to release
To crush the curse and devour the blessing

The wings of the fledgling as it falls from it's mountainside nest

The mall on the hill

Out of nowhere
The gross article
I feel you and see you in your day
I step through doors as my father did

Shortly grieve the loss of some
as they fall off the world, like cans off a supermarket shelf
And my eyes rest on you
and anticipate returning to you

No explosion can keep me from
No army of hungry believers
A part of your heart wants to ascend
Like many climbing the hill just to be closer to the sky

I contemplate you
lost in the concrete and steel, purse on shoulder
Heaven is a shopping mall
Angels are just patient salespeople

A million images of you
pushing the trolley
From the shade into the light
and vice versa simply gently

Your scent an aura
following you like a glance
your hands find something to buy
Your mind something to think

A million experts could teach us how to live
We would be balanced human beings
supermarket door stops in the flesh
The mistake of living is holy

But where does the average consumer hide their soul
Somewhere in the corridors of the heart
Or the aisles of the brain
So many thoughts and feelings to purchase

The sand, the wind and the water

The lizard hovers over the sandy expanse
the rest of us crawl like spilt milk across an endless table
What a distance, I ponder for each step is a crossroads

Barbed wire indicates the way
We turn our heads to see if there's a single guide to console us
As our hands meet the sharpness of the next step

And the humble swear that heaven is over the next hill
That illumination is not too far from our million predicaments
That nirvana is a stones throw from this fragility

Give them your ears
For lies based on love are sweet
Take your mind off the weather

Cutting out shapes and attaching wings and halos
naming angels like farm animals
crawling toward a paper mache God

You have just stopped for lunch
But there's no food when you don't move
There's only the room to make acquaintance with a man made creator

The sandy expanse remains unchanged without the wind
And like the wind after water you might find it right to be
For a stagnant pond breeds little else than water fleas.

Keeps his rock rolling

Roundness to the scalp
confidence drives him to yelp
To bark and bray given a pun worthy of betraying
Optimism is an acquaintance for the self

Youthful energy keeps him ticking and whistling in tune
through the slow luke warm hours of the afternoon
some of the class anticipates his witty comment
Some restlessly move, distractions grow, focus went
envy biting like a ferocious mosquito

Teenagers are strange birds, flocking close to avoid humiliation
Grooming their own feathers for peer admiration
close to winning, already addicted to provoking a class uproar
Some content themselves with brief outbursts of pop humor

And marble skull is no different
Playing the game of life
almost reaching pleasant
conversation is a sport, debate is a dive

Soon you´ll prepare a feast of do´s and don´ts´ to society´s health
They taste delicious as they are thrown righteously from the mouth
What a tragic destiny this is, as rules crowd brain space and swell
Youth is exempt from mediocrity but is full of forming scars
What nonsense those mind brakes they teach you to pump really are
With a nice  "must have" brand of shoes to kick creativity

Tear the contract, don´t insist on a place where you can fit!
Why don´t you sell yourself to you and pocket the rudder bucking profit

Beyond the guts of it

In the middle of you
space where the soul hides
Juggling the heart and brain
shining out of your eyes

You could have this world with tree roots
or a pond´s surface
have it with human hands
Touch it for the heart´s beats are not infinite

Did life itself dab or perpetuate a brushstroke in forming you?
Or are you the motorbike
Simply an engine built for easily calculations
Tangible and loud

Whatever you feel will soon pass say the wise
Whatever you see is shaped by your servitude to mood
Thoughts stretch you out during the day
Lying to who you are

Logic is a warm blanket
Often the only way to survive the cold nonsense
without conditioning to the ice of mystery
You will march as a slave to form

The morning uttered

The early morning moved me
Like a whirlwind to the highest point of my being
Beating like a tide against it
It transformed into the will
growing like veins into the abundant bulges

Crashing against the times and their complaints
overrunning them
changing them, shredding them yet blessing them
Coloring voids
Collecting together like bees
then exploding like a dense flock of grounded birds taking wing

Curving around the closed and open spaces
rewriting the beliefs, the thoughts and ambitions
The air spoke to me as if my best friend
heat in it's words
I opened it's gift
The morning uttered a word
The incredible energy of peace and strength

It said "Free"

The animal soul

I can´t say
what color the horse sees the day in
or the frog or the dog or the proverbial chicken
Their crazy mouths open to the rain
Spice of the air they drink
What flavour do they taste before it all drains

What do they feel what do they fear
Is the purpose of their lives something they are aware of?
I can´t say if an animal has a soul
Pieces of the invisible puzzle
that make up the world

Life sings struggle (take off your earphones)

We go out and meet the world head on
These hill high challenges
looking us in the eye
we choose to heave to confront and fight

Some of these oinks throw their scraps in our directions
Our resolve is the blender that liquifies unnecessary slander
throwing it back twice as fast
The world is an ever changing mood
and we can deal with the zombies, the jealousies and the rudeness

Nothing can sustain us but the rhythm of life
the coughs and the splutters, the smiles and the gigggles
The slicing and the gutting, the dance and the wiggle
The movement of life
So push that into the light of your know

Never diminished by our errors
Always running back to where the fire is
no fear of being burned
inner grin deals aces on denial
because we assume reality and its thorns
Not time for fantasies and popcorn

We swing the spade
and stain the apron
never stopping for the whining insignificant complaints
we don´t snack on pride,
  we don´t hide from the truth, or endorse pretty lies
It´s real to the touch, it´s a classroom everyday, never too much
Heaven is the struggle in the way

Any tainted cup

Your world could be brighter
If you'd just let go of the demons
The ones wearing friendly smiles
The ones betting on the adversary crocodile

Sweep away those lies from such a bothered brow
Unnecessary ghosts riding in on your false beliefs
Wake from the nightmare they weave my friend
You've danced in the slow moving disco you've lied and pretended

I witnessed the hurt wet and swirling up in your eyes
and we could awkwardly joke as I hint and you deny
And we could hike around that void you keep inside
Feel it when it takes the shape of teeth to bite

Lay it into yourself one after the other
We are helpless to aid you, misplaced brother
Why send us away, are we the antagonists distracting your sweet vice?
Why let this vessel carry you? wherever it may glide

Hunger for a time and place

Took the long road down
Tyres screeching
My mind massages the darkness
Streetlight caresses our eyes

Car racing toward the light of day
toward the morning
Sidewalks worship us
amidst the dawn drizzle

This road is cheese
this dawn is driving through
a stampede with a mouth to chew the morning

Turning the corner and decending
into the city into the day
into movement, obligation and etiquete

The sun will baptise me today or tomorrow and when it does
The roads will truly be edible and open
People´s deception will be fed back into their mouths
Until their purpose behind the lie is found

And I will turn down at all hours of the day
No limits to existance
A face for all periods of the day
no hunger for time

Uncle madness

Have you ever seen a monster in real life
A tormented clown drunk on his own wretchedness
Corrupt in the bones
Organs so worn from carrying grudges
A dispicable lanky old man

He is the vampire invited
The rot accepted and tolerated
The demon unexorcised
The wound infected

He stirrs madness in his own skull
as if it were a cauldron
brewing venom soup
He is the intenseness of evil

His tongue knows a Thousand obsenities
He thirsts to offend
He is the fiend of all fiends
The corruptor, the accuser,
the bitter alcoholic whose presense dismays

Untie the playground

Sun drops onto the rope and the kids at play
They are immersed they don´t speak they scream with not much to say
Looking up to where the world is attached to their games
Sunlight´s rays make their way into shrieks across the small park

Some of the kids in the shade
stuck on gossip and not wanting to feel the adventure
impatient sun still trying to trickle through the trees
 to liven them toward movement

The tines in the rope squeal under the weight of several climbers
Untying the playground with their obsession with action
The morning sun does blind us one boy said
as he and his friends hauled the plastic boat up the concrete mountain

Swamp bread

You in the swamp
Swamp lakes, swamp takes
on Earth it is you

 In the bar full of alcoholic crocodiles
Broken benches, wooden beams and braces
It´s there you´ll invite me to tatoo your soul
under the bald cypress trees
smooth trunk fanning and flapping into the juice

Oh the hollow trunk holes
mouthfulls of words overheard
overfed
Dusty dirt roads bending down and bowing to the noble swamp bar

I drugged the air to be humid
And gave the popular locals laughter roots in their throats
throwing up grin,s cackles and snake hissing giggles
empty bottles and patrons falling backwards after the seventh litre

In the swamp
Swamp likes you, rubs you down
water´s stale you are the world but the swamp is not

And you´ll pirate them out
gold coins boxes of happy thoughts
I´d want to rent your two cheeks
so that wonder can measure your grin
I´d swamp right into you
wanting to know the moves

I´d drug the air about you
just to see the beads sweetly form
The drugged air vibrates and gets wetter
worshiping the sweat that runs across your skin
slowly you melt

The swamp promises the world
but knows little more than mud and decomposing debris
among roots and humid air all the way up to the rooster canopy
the eyes change color and mystery swings in and out like a vagabond
but it´s a poor proxy for the world child
don´t heed what they declare

Walking back to Raumati

From the deep blue sky they come down
sliding all over whatever city they like
bragging they're faster and more agile than motorbikes
More sacred than the clean rivers

They slip in a good word about themselves
and each conversation swells
with their heads taking up most of the space
Their weird foreign pride all over the place

They've seen the real beauty
we are the primitive canoes
We have to sit by and listen like sheep dogs
with nothing to do

Their space crafts outrun anything on earth
Whizzing by a thousand miles an hour
as I had to take the long way back to Raumati
Summer amenities awaited me

Summer screamed at me through the U.F.O's motors
Asking me if I would like a ride
I looked at my surroundings and my legs spoke
Told me to keep on trotting

The army in verse

The army of words
They cross the world
Their legs are letters changing
coming together and seperating
advancing toward meaning

Unleashed upon the world
Written into the tatoo on a poet incognito
Making their way across the city walls
An army burning it´s way into the psyche
like tyres spinning on the ashphalt
like a billion trees struck by lightening

The ranks are filling and the pressure is attractive
Minds want to feel the touch of such tangible abstraction
Not in trends or screens but in words and ideas
the mind has never seen

Verse ties the hands of tyrants
rubbing off the flesh from their foreheads
to expose their deranged frontal lobes
The stealth of those metaphors
boots battering desert rock toward the merciless oppressors
With all senses awake to the atrocities of Siria

A fine acquaintance is oblivion
It´s time we introduce him to these thugs in black
Until the very darkness they propose has wined and dined on their souls
and the void inside them drives them to suicide

A good night´s sleep

The striped cloud is an omen,
who is that roaming illusive sinister host?
Excuse me while I confront the evermoaning ghost
The tree is uprooted and laid head toward the hills and beneath
The striped cloud is an omen cover your head beneath the sheets

The apartment building has been laid down on it´s side
mostly empty except a few workaholics that still reside
Deep within the carcass of the building, lamp on as if the sun never existed
The evermoaning ghost circling the sleepy ruins
The cloud composed of dark lines contrasting light ones flowing and morphing
toward the horizon

Life´s a bike and dance when emergency kicks a cane into day light sight or night time sleep
A serious ride and rhythm toward the purpose of alarm clock bleeps
Each room in the fallen tree is a mouth to tell a million tales
recorded inside hieroglyphics which sail
on the dark lines in the sky

The tree is now a bed and humans are now waking, hear their sighs
coughing and joking emergency in their eyes
The evermoaning ghost has died down like a turbine shutting off
The world awaits so hard and abrasive, compared to those sheets so warm and soft

Multi-tasker

Are your own private universe
your own accountant, repairman and nurse
Big games are played and while the game's going
the rules are made and like stars falling
random chance mixes us up, some hold some flake
On the inside we are all walking milkshakes

So are you here about the light
the money your broken heart or your health
The game has begun and the first rule is to spin
while there be light from the sun
Aim your brain at the day call it destiny
We're in a forest but all of us are different species

Staying afloat

Which part of the boat are you
What purpose have you
The docks are restless

This ship is huge each story true
tells a chapter in the biography of you
The water out there is full of people and animals

There is no special time of the day
No specific location
Where if you stand and pray
the meaning of life will fall on you like rain

So which tool in the box are you
what is your use
The machines are anxious for repair

This factory is gigantic and each floor
supports the nature of each sentiment in your core
The workers out there are swimming in the water

There are no lifeguards or floating debris that might
save the aimless paddlers as for their lives they fight
Each wave comes like the back to work bell
The factory itself has drowned in the swell

And with each stroke of the workers arms through the water
with each breathe, each piece of hope in their survival driven thought

The world is created for and by dreamers

The gift of imagination far from the limits, rules and forms
I seek to dream them without permission
be them without recognition
see them through, grit and elbow grease included

Dreams the ones that set us aside from the drones
the ones at night that still buzz around the head until midday
Opening wonder and curiosity and the food for brilliance
Dreams the mind´s guide on thought´s tides

Ah but we are set apart, for those who don´t dream must follow
If you cannot romance the surreal
Subject to the concreteness of rules and structures
Programmed and mechanical

Yet we who dream are a million colors
and a million sensations that bubble into one another
A whole universe inside the human form
Tweeking reality and squeezing convention

Dreaming the abstract dream
Create the new
move the bored and uncurious to their imminent posts
be anything but a label

Where are you swimming?

You can't trick the fish
they'll swim at quite a fast pace
If your pond is deep
The surface will be the last place

Have you counted your fish
and compared them with the other pond
wait until the summer weather
heats the water where they escond

And above land there's nothing but fish
trying to sell their suitcase ideas
get you interested in one then make the switch
swimming away

Celebrities are chased right to where one spends
sand and tyres, grand garden parks for fancy picnics
fishy handshakes confidently extend
from an elbow connected to a shoulder holding a head of tricks

They could whirl a fairy like fireworks
extract the promiscuous groupers from their neon sign districts for a while
Hooks like that penetrate winter
hooks like that catch on clumsy gills

Decorations

The old lady said the bandage was a decoration
and was it ever, was it such, yes such an understatement
The veins and wrinkles on hers were decorations absurd
yet the mouth wouldn't go to word

And you yes you, life's parade is great
not needing medals or certificates
What greater war is there than the one to maintain life
This weapon of mass destruction is the aging in man and wife

And the man with the bulging black eye
wore his like a proud hero his cape in flight
The purple heart well pronounced on his face in pain
And the woman who had bitterly paced into the train
boasting a bruise across her forehead

The little girl with a cut on her lips despite her pretending
one can only ponder on how they earned them
And back to the old lady almost excited, almost eighty
her whole face was decorated and what a shrill exchange ensues
when general death approaches the one you are talking to

Damage control

We are the observers and our eyes have been lent out
To something hidden
So that daily life is watched like cameras
simultaneously transmitting the film to another part of our universe
where onlookers tediously and slowly draw their conclusions

Yes our eyes film this never ending set which is earth
But do the onlookers have emotions?
Do they bleed like us?
Or are they so unlimited, they don't actually live on a planet?
But survive on our perceptions, opinions and methods of bending reality?

Yet they have the greatest power in the world
To see everything anytime any place
and hold dialogue with the most sane of us
calculating the costs of their interferences before they seek to prevent oblivion

Painted on fake smiles

War is painted on the walls of daily life
We hold love in our fists yet it squeezes out
Destruction hides in different locations all over the city
waiting to awake and manifest

Beauty can alude the eyes for days
and dryness and pollution mix into the haze
layers of it coming down from the skies
to choke us and to weaken us as graffiti smiles

War is painted on fake smiles
fine strokes of ambition and resistance
Uphill battles to change a world that worships destruction
That prays to jesus with words of apathy and selfishness

A Jersey called insanity woven with disregard
that millions harbour in their hearts
ruled by impulses and the ugly dialogue of a bad conscience
that appears out of nowhere painted into their thoughts

Like soot along a train line
or vomit along a hobos rags
A line of riot geared police
A population that remembers every soccer game

yet forgets the rest

The necessary fire

What a man has to be
experience and face
the temperatures and the pressures
the tests of the fissures in his will

A shield he must be built around the heart
Armor must be nailed onto him
The world moulds too many of us
Where do we source the alloy to absorb the blows

Merciless, the confused masses set themselves up in rows to attack
The mindless anger that drives the people
The fire of the world burns and you are pushed further into the furnace
scratching the closing doors cannot help you

Let the heat overwhelm you
pound in your temples
and change you
be the flame as if it were your destiny

Eating up everything around you
the chaos the confusion and the provokers
When the pain and the flame are extinguished
there will be no mouth to explain bliss

Under the thick trees

You can't see me in the tree
Looking searching like a private investigator
I pulled the branch down
\you almost fell

Now you are chasing
Though I'm in a different world
And when you enter I'm already hidden
It's a school yard with high thick branchy trees
cutting out the sun and making the ground damp and moist

I'm further in and none can see me
Near the old exit where the sewer drains are
filled with old rubbish cans and bottles
You won't even risk a step toward the heap
So I'll go on with limitless land rights
pulling down whoever's branch I choose

And I'll enjoy the trees that can never be uprooted
And be content as the rest of you panic
at the fact there's no exit or real sense in this place
You are just a lost autumn leaf rolling over in the wind
believing yourself to be the mover
Bless that naivety

Food for the stars

Call your life
Is this a videogame click in click out?
Enter the game it feels real
Now one day you´ll get to pretend like this is not real
Not happening
Not tangible

But it invites you in
It´s persuasion is color
and you are addicted
sperm to the egg

Now come down and manifest
get an electric kick inside the skull
You woke now play this big world
choose a character
You may misunderstand the point of the whole game

So if you want another coin you need to
ease up on those fruitless conclusions that serve to
make you look like a donkey
Appreciate the senses
perception is heaven

Paint a square on the floor of love
then stand there before you look at someone else
Who are you but a wierd pretending piece of food for the stars
waiting on the plate acting like you weren´t put there
From sweaty little fingers putting a disc in a console
Like a control in a little kid´s clammy hand

Chasing the river

Chasing the river
The margins marching
The rapids firing
tree roots wander in the water

We are holding our own
as the reeds and swamp grass encroach
and fear doesn´t touch us
And we don´t seperate ourselves from the stream


The push of the water
battling over land, over rock
I´ve chased the river
been under into it´s depths

Moving across the land
wet serpent so damned
Transparent soul drowning any curse
follow it

Jimmy and the bad flock

The power drunk preacher denigrates Morrison,
Wearing pink and heartening forty in his flock
Under the town square's trees in the endless summer
Babbling blasphemies toward the lizard king

Babbling as if simultaneously eating cake
Almost accumulating a froth near the mouth
The Iconic pop poet didn't stand still calm and collected
But became extremely anguished tantamount to a maddened gorilla

Had it not been for the zombie lock flock
Blocking Jim from the preacher
Blood would have been spilled
Like a toad being ravaged by a smooth cold blooded creature

The surreal never ending intemperance both parties paid the deposit for
Means rally starts every half hour like a broken record
of a slanderous and violent public calumny somewhere west of heaven
Where outrage replays for the first time in forever

Lazarus elevator

Hi Sylvia your rhyme has found me
Your nightmares about Nazis
The fear of living in your own skin

Stanzas of three
hives of the same bee
do I invert so eloquently

So what does it mean?
The whole empty elevator scene
and how do you Plath your way into dreams

It looks like your two best friends
Terror and promise wanted to spend
eternity in the words of your three stanza'd blends

Despite the darkness of the world
sudden light can reflect in any second of any day
A hidden piece of us never dims you seem to say

So what made you touch my sleep
How does verse escape the page to hunt sleeping poets
Just to taunt us with write ups of mediocre t.v shows based on the sixties

If dying is so an art as great poet Plath says
Tell me how many times did the elevator jump sideways?
And will they give the pincel to me, so I too may tickle the tree

Have the doors of that elevator forever shut?
Just an empty shaft inside a buildings hollow guts
I doubt that severly, wake a poet nervous and make him believe


And now you are dead
and infecting my style and dreams
Please keep showing me the piece of me that never dims

A friend worthy of praise

He wishes the best for you
For the battle, for the struggle
out there friends and friendly intentions protect you
Each one of us deserves it, you my friend more than most

Never a bludger but a protector of the no hopers many clans
Nothing corrupted you, you stood firm when many couldn´t stand
A piece of me goes with you, atleast my admiration
An old friend like you

I´ve seen you fight and become someone
shaped by the Europe you entered
And the New Zealand you left
By the destiny choice you made

Groomed but hollow

Among the geniuses
Quick learners the sharp shooters
Learn the sketch pretend routine
Bluffing is your most useful skill

Invited to the mainstreet show
Bit a pomp, bit of predictable, pat my back- and I´ll pat it too
In your face certificates well aimed gossip
well oiled friendships and what a colorful mainstreet/stream show

Then out came the overachievers
came to my test, came to my fun the wild world behind the mirror
Now I am the rainbow staining spreading oil in your puddle
Now we cook behind the mirror

A hole in the wall
There is now a hole in your mind
In the hole is a smashed statue
One you recognize

And further in I go
In your hole is a burning blanket
It stays in there until it´s ashes friend
You are not the fire department, this is not an atm

Now I´m tickling your bluff
and your fine tuned skill at conformity
Play rebel for a day you crowd pleaser
to hide your core of normality

building your ego a little like lego
groomed but hollow

The weight lifter

He was just a normal lad who loved his friends
One day it went to his head for he couldn´t pretend
His wanting sent him into excess
Soon he´d be a post teenage mess

His thoughts married his feelings
Like in so many minds
but paranoia breeds, like the common birds that fly
the ones he finds on television with his eyes

When the mind has no keeper
Chaos and insanity seep
He went from an ambitious young man
to a tortured monster

Although his destiny would be glory
despite his anguish and darkness in his life story
This man I´ve witnessed is no longer a mess
but a better man than me, if life is indeed a test

Albino status giver

Lawn man wakes drizzle and chilly breeze on his face
The grass his bed and no roof sleeping in the open air
Semi albino damp and close to freezing in the middle of the rat race
skimpy, confused and aloof, getting intimate with his own fear

Lawn man has made his home on a road island
The oddest site to nearby residents, their worried fingers dialing
By day he´s begging and scavanging, like a lost wolf nimble and wiley
By night only the darkness knows his conspirings

The semi albino and his rags wander between rich neighbourhoods
Posing in awkward positions for the cars passing by
Life is rough, take a look at me you´ll feel better, atleast you should
Look at me to feel richer, fewer possesions after "My"

Picnic

Sunny patch you´ve embraced our skin
My sweet has accompanied me to this private place
A rockface observes us, surrounded by curious shrubs
Children play in the undergrowth like organic cherubs

Lie down show me your smile lit by the sun
Let us eat and drink until the shade covers our spot
Short grass and a hundred sunlit tones of green
We came to this place to be the closest to the calm as we could be

Laughter and shrieking filters through the trees
Curious birds flick up the leaf litter for an unsuspecting grub
Our hands hold food and then drop onto each other in love
Most days our bond is distant, today it is more than enough

They felt board

I´m putting my fingers on the board
Where I demonstrate my language
I began to sink deep into it
putting myself onto it from the inside

I´ve become a part of the blankness
That suddenly transforms
twisting across the whiteness
I´ve sunken into it

What have I become
my fingers run over the world
I can inject myself into the screens
Converted into liquid

Attention is the burning van driving away
Flames climbing and rocks hitting the panels
I Fall onto it spilt milk by random hands
The fire dissipates and the rock crumbles

I have become truly neutral
gladly intangible.

Fond of your identity

Is there a well collected image of yourself?
One that flickers in the mind whenever you say "me"
Is there a body that's really felt?
A mind that has been inverted and positioned at all angles

For the many layers of the you must have been active to really live
Those chunks of your innerness that were never recognized
huddle in hidden places pushed down by the acquisition of a phony identity
Wanting to be like the others at the expense of yourself

But I'm here lost coin of this false currency
to tell you your value isn't in the engravings that you made
to fit into a quarter chain
It's in the rough cuts and bumps that a real person receives, risking themselves
with an identity they are fond of.

You are not their noise or hush lost soul!
You are not their jeers or spoils!
Wake from your disgusting conformity
Your unwillingness to question self awareness
... Or sleep in what society has bullied and shaped you into being
For your identity is your curse or blessing

Baghdad fish

Floating on the redness
like closed lips
a million submissive maidens
each with a recipe

Little boats trading hope on the water
As extremists take the country and extort her
war and pollution have discolored the water
It's in the flavor of the fish

Each family offers their version of the dish
Ashamed that their culinary delight
Is reddened and swollen
Like a desert corpse of an unlucky Shiite

And as the land is hit by the tyrannical Islamic fist
May Iraq be flooded by it's mighty Tigris

Entertainment news

Media insists on deep graves
Headlines of a lifetime
That leave little left but death, gossip and mouths to rave
Celebrities on the helpline

Expensive boxes don't pine to hug you
A million fans do
It's seven feet deep and glistening
padded with a fad a phase of magazines

A new suspense keeping you from the reaper
A movie opportunity
Another flic, a directors cut trick, grave gets deeper
Now your bed is a million words overstated snug and glossy

Just stop asking when the plane will leave.

This buzz, this ride, this life

One thousand times
Disease can´t
oh a Thousand lives but one right now
Injury can´t

Oh overcoming the train on the eternal rail
holding onto the metal
No
No certainty no safety let it all come

Through the ride ears and eyes and busy minds
No be here
move with it
alive

One Thousand times me
never worrying about injury or
Perfection and other fancy lies
still making the best of this buzz this ride this life

Familiarity and pride

On high houses
high horses and dreams of high classes
Your life stories now refined and compact
Nostalgia is your courier

Most of us shallow wanters
Seeking above all of it flavor
Tell us about the time you tasted
the poverty of sophistication

The meager experience toasted as rich
stamped by connoisseurs for approval
The time you ate a hedgehog
and selected a fine wine to accompany it's effect on the palate

Taste the list of things eloquent self important chefs recommend
Afternoon nap and troubled sleep for cheese grills nearby
Taste the base of the twiggy mess
the uneven batter and the sour insides

Taste purple life
the tongue a magnet
electric saliva
fear of the poets menu

What's cooking for the shallow wanters today
Taste testers knife and fork in hand
eat your old skin under the pergolas nicely
For nothing we've served you sufficed

Autumn was my mother

I was raised where autumn's liquid amber leaves would litter the garden
Where spring's Rhododendrons would shed sticky gum to dry in the sun
Where the winter lilac would bloom to contrast against the short dull days
And summer was eternity to everything living in every way

Not long human I made my way through the dry leaves
Looked up at the woman standing under the houses eve
her expression was autumn with highlights of hope
Words came from my heart for I could feel their journey to the throat

And once there I could feel their footsteps much like mine
struggling to open the voice box in time
Fighting to thank the kind lady who had helped raise me
Who had helped to prepare me for any season

Tweek´s week

Those tweeker´s hit the house last night
anything that wasn´t held down
A broken corner house plagued by a decade of users
A progression toward addiction

A doorway to crime
And they stand in withdrawl, hands trembling in their pockets
In the dirty doorway
Unwashed and street ready, swollen by their own drug hungry veins

light goes out of day
They hover in the doorway
empty bottles and dime bags
they plot to realize a strict enough fix

Soon stoned again and crazed
their limbs partly exposed tatoos and tattered shoes
Time demons dance over them
as dossile, they struggle to breathe during their dull euphoria

Shadow on the wall

Like a shadow on the wall
reluctant petals of an old flower
Walking down the street
fear in her aroma

In the graffiti something hides
looming and conspiring
Something in the writing
that puts terror in the old

The night's lamp light
illuminates her expression
prudent and anxious
ambling carefully like a shadow on the wall

The city can be an abrasive realm
danger lurking somewhere in the darkness
The neon light of the city center is no savior
better stay indoors get your shadow off the wall

The shape of the world

The shape of the world got away from me
A little piece of pessimism made it's way into my hand
but tomorrow I drop it like gravity wants me to
Oh great bulge cold at both ends what do we make of you

Great world that harbors us
We the hardness and the softness temporary evidence
We the emptiness and the fullness, the concurrence and the dissidence
We the seaweed on reef of political tides

Ignoring the very rock our roots cling to
The shape of the world got away from thee
If form could translate into words the earth would be a complex language
Satellites send us all we need and somehow we communicate pushing that metal out

Great mass that found it's fortunate position in the system
Look at us
We the good for nothing assumers continuing to baby boom
worship brands and consume

We whose personal version of stupid rings more pleasantly
with sweet bias sauce evidently
When the shape of the world humbles us
It's no longer about the bigger, better, faster illusory rush

Befriend today

Dust caught in the Wind expands and contracts
taking off and landing from the dirt road
source of all worry
Yet leave the shack behind
The broken broom the gossip foyer
the lost little hands of time

Indeed walk on unknowing of the danger and incidents
The peril that could come running back faster than memory
To stone you to death with a love quite misunderstood
and grieve over your body
holding the flag of the broken broom

Indeed trust that the winds of yesterday consume everything
from bad intentions to the open exhibition of loathing
For today may transform your thoughts and feelings
If you choose to befriend it, embrace it and tell it the truth
Ah little is lost my friends except expendable dust
Be the heir of today and recieve it´s inheritance

breathe it´s abundance
The source of all worry belongs in the past

To the city state of nirvana

There are many ways to arrive at nirvana
Accustom yourself to the saddle and the rhythm of the trott
Amuse yourself with the sweat of your brow
Relish mosquito and horsefly bites
Gratefully gallop into a violent meditation
Then get used to the taste of tired horse

How to amaze the folk

Give them the curtain the color of zest
A whole new pattern easy to digest
They´ll pay to pull it across their faces no questions asked
their brains serve as rails

Wow them with a parade
Mobile billboards that shine and sway
Glitter and confetti drizzling down
Excitement runs through the raw heart

like children opening and slamming doors in a clapboard house
Like passionfruit seeds shattering in a blender
Turn up the music
appeal to their senses

When it gets dark draw them across
Just like curtains that are certain to be tamed by a boss
prisons and asylums for those that get lost

Chameleons of the ocean

Colorful storms huddle together on the horizon
Sweeping across and irrigating the seas
slowly changing shape and color like chameleons
crawling toward the land with apetites

Seaside cities founded on dreams of prosperity
Foyer pillars built to emulate the soundness of democracy
The chameleons push the sea into the court yards
Dogs swim looking for an exit

Picnic baskets float and fuzzy sunlight pulls through
even through the haze of humid air
Dominated by the chameleons
Families stand welcoming them at the new shore

Change is all we can ever hope for

Official court of post life retribution

Breathe down the competition's neck
The food of life's harvester is half optimistic
The chase is half of life's excitement
Sometimes you can trade goods and smiles with them


Bring the career up step by step
sincerely climbing up to the landing
where the reaper will collect his debt
to the sound of voluptuous angels singing

Supernatural police breathe down the ethereal neck
as phantom barristers do the sin to good deed ratio check
How much did one buy in and how much did one sell out
There's an estate in purgatory if the jury raises doubts

I guess I'll see you there
where one can present karmic tax returns to certify or bear

Drastic notions (of) Athanasia

Humans develop
dragging new accents
dropping network abbreviations
into electronic envelopes

Clinging to deoxyribonucleic acid
That's half the identity under the lid
Could you be the essential molecule
That secret, that chain, that life tool

Seven billion clingers with plates and cups
three billion chemicals, junkies luck
Will it make you spiral up
or make you spiral down

Running in two parts across the world
that are woven and sound

Milton's witness

When he was just a stick figure crashing through the ozone layer
Just a shadow on the cumulus
Skydiving with the summer rain
a lightening bolt

When the world was bound by walls
graffiti scribbled across
shades of him in their spray
Cracks in the brick that let him breathe

When he was the two yellow lines in the middle of the road
Not all traffic payed heed, yet their tyres were worn down faster than he
When he came out of the ground hotter than a fever
The steam rising in the question mark are you a believer?

Walking down from the temple of pandemonium
for an early swim in that lake
In ruining the world he still has a say
When true light isn't blocking his way

Put your love on the city

You put your love on the water
with your mouth you say
Those sweet waves are for my beaches my coast
Not an obsession, more than a delivery

You put your love on the road
With your body you say
Those sweet wheels are for my asphalt
not a fixation, or a vehicle

You caught yourself wishing
For something not tangible
Still I put a love on your dreams
Not fantasies, more than goals

You put your love on this city
With your mind you slide
Those sweet trains on my rails
Not metal, or concrete

No viciousness or anxiety
A heart as a symbol for the city

Gravity and silly con

From under the world where intentions are green
now I´m almost spread across it as it becomes a screen
Inside words and rhymes and paradymes
Now across the page a roar lost in google´s time

Just a human stuck to the Earth
more aware of gravity for what it´s worth
On the globe with not much more than a gut feeling
That an absent host perhaps observes from afar

Absent host meet the many dumbfounded consumers
Let me introduce you to the few that play god in your place
As long as we have the room
this is the human race

A comic experiment in a world of unquestioning masses
Cattle prods are our traditions, institutions and classes
People´s desires fluctuate like share price graph trends in bold
Where is the next silicone valley whizz kid to save the world

Another app, gadget or gimic to simulate innovation
When it´s just another touch screen addition that appeals
It must fit into a package or a barrel for a steal
You better rethink it artificial island style

So great creator if I cracked it, leave the prize money in heaven
If my soul exists to claim it, I´ll have no where to spend it