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