The echo of ego

 There´s an echo in this room
My voice bounces back to me
hitting on the wall
It´s a conversation
A void, an attempt at exchange

My words pour out 
across the wooden floor
strings to the ceiling
can I admire my own voice
As it kicks about as noise

I could do with an ear
Not attached to me
but another human being
to capture a gram of my sense
To taste it as oddity yet soon after as commodity

Yet I am here revising my utterances
as they converge returning to my own ears
A boiling soup of my own concoction
splattering up and falling right back into itself
Yet I must flavor it all so that mouth could be ear
and I could be heard

Career plans for fiends

 Saint andrew heights
High hills with terraces
each one for a person
their sense of wealth

Driven down to the swamps
to the schools and abandoned streets
not far from the perimetral
Timeless lost absent crescents of streets
fickle as labrynths

Fickle as moss concrete brick stairs
As the drug dealer threw little sachets of narcotics
landing in sandwiches, half opened mouths and newspapers open
Riding his pseudo-neo futuristic segway
A ceo in his own underpants

The cops watched from their shaded car windows
drizzle humidifying everything
Instead of arresting the miscreant they tipped their hats to him
Productivity was high at the office that day

Hobo James

 They hugged the corner of the food stamp cafe
where we could get beans for pocket change
Comparing our woes and our lacks
Staring at each other´s eyes
begging and provoking sympathy
The cook´s distrust a stronger taste 
than sache salt

The street sunlit and discolored
neediness attracted us like flies
A certain amount of our selfish lives
and those whopping failures swimming between
Now we beg and watch for wallets
Fussing for curb space

Low social hierarchy astroturf

 The group celebrated as the cool ones
far and distant from me
Always in the next room with new fun
many meters from me

The astroturf was for all of us
equality and sharing
But the cool ones were ahead
exclusive branch to their popularity

The cheap toys the observers bought us, large yet never enough
What I would trade from my meager pouch of transactional love
To share the kind of space that those big brother candidates did
Body language, tone and sentiment second nature kids

And here I sit ever the rejected child alone on this false green grass
as the others eat treats and hear of how their future feats will pass
I was hungrier than them, left with a full bag of candy self pity on my seat
I could smell it, that overwhelming scent but I couldn´t bring myself to ever eat

Big brother astro-turfers
those skateboarding, rollerblading, kite surfers
Paired up with their social system mate
while I flailed outside their program, pretending life was great

Social mobility from an Imaginary yacht

 The boat trip was going to be a special moment
shore side focus evesdropping as we boarded those launches
Wind disagreeing with ambition dressed in poverty
And off we went to some other shore
as if we achieved a higher feeling of family

Rocking boat his face as fresh as yesterday
Can you transition from tool to personality
From interest to care to some semblence of love
over the waves always late 
sand has the same flavor as the grains we ate

The boat trip family excitement
Wind pushing back, mother panic
The surf shoving and frowning
what could possibly quell
the fear of drowning

They gave us the polish, towels and pales
to smear upon millionaire´s panels
of their fine yachts, their holy grails
For we couldn´t sail
It was never about who you were, but what you got

My chest beats the sea

 Is my heart hooked to the land
where the grass is short, hills are steep
not for the weather but the mindless sheep
trashy poplars brag in the wind
cul de sac bullies lurking on the corner

Is my heart buried like a treasure chest
under the patch of bush that hides the river from the road
roots as my veins blood in the rain flows
the soil my food in my mouth and nose

The taste of hills and mountains so near
Alas I dwell thousands of miles from here
a reality that I chose away from the known
The boring close I´d rather it on my own

A rule I broke, parting from the crowd
a rule that kept me under that long cloud
when all I wanted from the world was the sun

an angle that could warm me from the cold alone
with my heart in my chest in my home
Abroad, foreign to you, other side of the sea foam

In a lifetime

 Destiny´s laughing fork
fate´s knife

One tine you will cling to
the long steel decades
Until the twilight seagull sings

That deep long blue dusk
the afternoon of your life
manipulating our sense of distance
tree tops absorbing those last rays

Destiny´s driveway
Hopeful footsteps scrunch stones
patchwork noise rebounding off hedges and fences
closing in on the mansion

The career figment of her art

 He was in her painting
firey tongue, firey hair

In the darkness of an unknown kitchen
checkerboard life
brushstrokes that captured 
various chapters of his life

Eyes that accept fate
Apathetic pigment
Life´s engine fueled
Human topiary

A bengal stick
tickles the black and white squares
Power across the board
salivating afore the life tree

coveting the hills and the slit moon
and every inch of space off earth

The glory of the soldier conform

 Part of your heart was sewn infact with a patch of a uniform that betrays
They knew they could count on you to stoke the furnace
As the ash slowly slips down from my rounded cracked skull on the floor
Tracing the emblem you stitched onto me,
 a piece of god burning at the base of an industrial chimney

the grain shines out of that rifle proud tool man
Maybe one day the lines that move you and cut you
will run you off this page on your very behalf
as Your arms and legs form a crucifix Just a badge on an epitaph

Smouldering along the death camp road´s barbed wire logs
smouldering into the bloodstained nostrils of the guard dogs
March to hell, every demon to accompany you
March into hell let me confetti your path right
filthy corpses strung up to the street light

Your victory is the deafening and eternal screech of a curse
Your honour is for the landfill
your glory is a legacy of broken children
cannonfodder waiting for the secret contract
frizzled carcass remains stacked to the back of the barracks
Pile them up my servant of pride, serve me destruction
in souless mindless mouthful strides

Pawn of the simple brain wash, society bias fluid bag
Rushing through the shrapnel, leaking out wet evil
courage leaves you for a better soldier
I need you to rot soon in your righteous pit
Just another grave with your name on it

Close to the soap

 The hospital beacon blinding me
shopping mall manic
fixtures stucco´d up night club ready
bounce like a buoy on the sea
The need to feed us mystery between the makeup

what comic god conditioned this
Boxes of useful and hear the salary
the number and recognition
purpose and path through toward important

chin tapering downward the upside down teardrop
cameras somewhere near like cleaning rags
for those hundred smooth surfaces
in which the fish look out of
instincts like a swim bladder

Make that flight turn up the heat
life´s need for a clown, a villian and a muse
which one confused itself with you
mirror blade to seperate yourself
the noise trails like a jetstream

Temple of the high society
pull a hook down
images to glue onto tomorrow
someone knows your name

Originally from Eure

 used to tease the garden
champagne whims it was
between rungs in a ladder
eyes flutter gumboots mutter

seasons freeze in that valley
crisp and awkward
sweet eyes
between tines in a fork, half a small forest, a bible beard and a teenage shudder

found a way away from the rust 
any trace of untapped gold dust
popsickle longing
eelspear prongs

 seduce the world
down near the river, the drive into nowhere, provincial

Somewhere something had to be seasoned  
with a nice tad of fame
Just foreign enough to give a man a reason
not to look the same
Spurn a new fad as it goes and hopes it came
That hits it home, father´s brimstone christian shame

work ethic hands, interrogator mouth
play twice the fad game
trends, goss and wealth
Misfitting those younger years
peering out from six eyes and three sisters

At 22

 That factory for wet plants
ambitious midlifers
and a man slow to mature
sleeping in the present

sun knocked against the entrance driveway
Trucks rolled in and emptied
our bodies too
april was an eternity

The river where I took it from
washed some of my sins away
the rest stained me above my skin
and the locals could smell it presently

I was lost against those volcanic rocks
one of those days I died or killed
or blended into heavy layers
of cold hard frustration

The water clear those long leaves as hair
water ways haunting each minute in sleep

You need doing, well done

 I drove the cannon to the front of your life
Grin the size of the frontline
beaming like they were opening fire
I could see far over your head as you got lost amidst the death and chaos

My arm a rigid rifle
loaded just a finger twitch away
curse whom granted the power
Fire bulge
Wet an appetite on high rises
On a metropole to indulge

born for the modern mind of war
these killers planned for today
Last night I ate a spicy next decade
wasps and hornets in the way
I punish the complacent
all they do is call me arrogant

Dance upon the mushroom cloud
farewelling a city that once was
Beliefs in heads that were
With a hot pair I just make a clean sweep
Onto the next helping

grin digging into the earth kicking it up
torn and aflame steaming and smoking turf
desintegrating it from the roots
as it´s hurled into the distance
Can you see my teeth stained from chewing on a
 medium rear civilization

Rusted cable linked to a social network

 Thin cruel
had a muddy muddy path through life
the road always turned into a whiskey den
the world always revolved around coma weekends

working, drinking and posting predictable treats and tweets

Thin cruel knees
crawling up through the creek
negotiating out of a stripped car
A skeleton existence and end

The carcass graffiti was the emojis that most trended

Thin cruel knees bent
and grazed against those riverside rocks
jutting up like teeth firm and locked
stained yellow at their base and braced by wire

Big gains dressed up in futuristic attire

I wanted the cake crumbs not these poxy pixels

Use these teeth to bite through the cable like a hacksaw

The whole eye moist and anticipating
eyelids crack open, mind waiting
To catch a ray of dusk
crawling in the dark since birth

A power plant below earth

A comedy for angels

 You can be whatever you want in this great night sky
we got a bunch of strong euphoria clustered up there
Witness us as we tease the dreams out of you
sugarlike and suave yes slapped by steel

the steel they lift in their gym routines
repetitions to the beat, flexing that meat
like they were centerpiece photography
Like their lives depended on that choreography 

Admire the success at all costs
that morphs into philanthropy
What a lofty lil chameleon
A thousand teachers each one swallowed into your ego blackhole

The proverbial house on the hill
dust and crumbled cement on the floor
Every bad habit fixed into hidden corners
widening spouses grin

tonnes of dirty clothes being loaded in with a truck
key lifestyle baggage stamped by superficial neighbors
your desires sitting around the corner of that huge house
playing marbles with each other amused by your ambition

The care taker handed me the hose
like a death notice
I washed everything down reluctantly
Just a cheap actor, in a comedy for angels

Renegotiating the employment contract

 Bring in the grains
and open a circle in the desert
mystical string
Open a hole in the universe

Invite us to slide right into it
with starburst supernovas
Golden flowing mist
all disappearing in the blink of an eye

Work is love
And love is the cosmos itself

You were the new hire
they relocated
from stolen car find the new premises
They have conspired to exploit

Reluctant you almost bail
But fold as they apply that lucky lotion
To smooth over the rough edges
of your busted ego

Ohnemuse ambitious

 I am not what I was
I´ve acquired a new limb or two
A powerful brainwash
My smile is out of shape
watch me blush

I acquired hush
titles stamps and cash
Waiting for the boom brush
The bull rush, the crown
The unrequited flirt

That automatic frown
Wait for the hurt
to pass and blend down
into some solid truth
we can chew on for years after

I am the admirer, the king hiver
The high fiver of the ring wraith riders
ambitions multiversed demons tamed 
by the destiny worshipping swamp tiger
my whiskers on fire

No prayer or awareness denied

Morning errand of the court

 The regal garden bed
invited like a foreign dignitary
To the grins and outrageous provocations
Of some time sensitive royal dame

The humid heat of the morning
is going up against prohibition
To mow the field short of midday, obedient and robust
manifestation of sexual play inspired by early lust

Maybe a quaint conspiracy in jest
Just for a gram of grace and quip to test or possibly
half a chuckle or an ounce of glee
A few tonnes of misplaced love from a misplaced me

There just to fertilize the flowering beds
at an appropriate hour, that morning itself said
What pokes out from the human nestle of flesh
In the form of lava like spirit wanting to consume dawn

3am flare

 Spiritual flattery
Yet I come up lacking
Blessed are those who see and bathe
in the glow of godlike otherworldly messages

Looking at the portrait of my life
pointing out the spaces
Maybe they are never to be filled
Like a pet I am to eat spammy existence

You wake me like I have some lesson to learn
And here I am wide awake 
I plead, I appeal and I meditate
The humming of my life low and unwavering

I ask those special questions
so out of the silence will come some incredible sign
a torch or flare or metaphor aware
yet I guess I need more wrinkles

To interpet the 3am spiritual flare

A lesson you don´t want to learn

 To learn the language of sun
To remove the heart from the body
To learn euphoria not from stimuli

but from dawn´s merciless epiphanies

To watch the child as a seedling
Grow into a role and a labyrinth of emotions
To know your body as a sleeping bag surface shell

but not be able to grip that which you are, in spirit factor

If comfort was a concrete box
Surely I would furnish one for you
You, the one who seeks straight answers in a crooked world
One who burns the boardgame of life with the friction of too many rules

Yet still unable to turn your face away from the nonsensical chaos

To learn the percussion of the rain
virile and fluid, a wash, a flood, a watery stain
To welcome the storm, abundance and destruction´s unruly child
who wrecks the land if unadopted

Yet it´s not a lesson you´d sit down to

The essence of this life too hidden, too concealed under your bias
your conditioning, your wardrobe is common error
your clothes a chinese whisper that was never ripped nor stained
and retained even the same tone

The tone of an echo in a concrete box
Finely crafted out of the fear of loss 
and surplus debris overused gossip
mixed into desperate brands that cement impulsive anxiety

And marketed as the noble western cowboy
wandering into the sunset   

The afterlife old son

 My father out nowhere
The one who taught me
My father gone
I see you

I cannot free you
You must free yourself
You are not alive
Yet the story hasn´t died

Nowhere you are
I don´t know
skull on wood
ground closing in

Above earth somewhere
I cannot free you
Once upon your health
Once upon your life

The blessing that you read into
A keepsake in forgiveness
binds you to the light, old son
follow it to the new one

I´ll see you there 
like you saw me here
the earth but a sandcastle
eternity of existance a day at the beach

Or maybe I will be the vigorous annual
never to wooden
with mere admiration and pigeon speak
to greet you with pa.

To heaven, God murmured

 He was a tree, a plant, a blade of grass
until that no longer served existance
He was a speech, a phrase, a word
until silence invaded the living noise

His soul light blue hovering over the sloped clay bank
rocky and uneven and all grey light brown
tinged by the land´s own weeds and dry brown patches
All stained by the late morning´s predictable high cloud

Slightly darker still below the cattle scarred hills
the tall overhanging valley evergreens shading the edge of the river
restless soul shaking it´s ghost leg and scrambling over the stones
Dying to be part of the river, to know it´s flow

So that he could be a drop, a liter, a pond´s expanse
Until there was little difference between him and the earth and the air