Old train station of purgatory

 The old train station sitting in the forest
The roof gray damp and gathering moss
The southern side in shade
Old graffiti faded barely readable
Each letter a latent spirit hanging
Draping down in different uneven shapes
Eyes squint to decipher them

Morning trades places with afternoon
It all merges again into a different form
Extending like icicles pointing down
Cold and accusing
The ferns at the base of the wall
Curl up to keep fronds from touching

The empty small building
Waiting to be inhabited

The yellow flowers of heaven

  I see you clothed in yellow flowers
I see them falling
 I no longer see the mists
The one that came down like hot water to dispatch you

Oh the far away goddess
I dreamed of being loved by you for a lifetime
The world wanted to see strength
I guess i can pretend

Disdain makes such strange fuel
But I'm glad I was there to show you how far I'd go
Every piece of the son or the child soured over into
such a cynical older man

You are separated and so far
Celebrations bring the may breeze
And those abundant yellow flowers
That cover the path you married on

Big dreams were lived and new ones sown
Go on with the old illusions
wrapped for a chrstmas that will never come
Like leaves dried and flattened in a book
labeled and forgotten

Am I one of those to you woman?
Am I one of those to you world?
Am I just waiting to be the dehydrated page you open
Reminisce that I might have shared a piece of myself

I imagine dying slowly running out of breath
as my heart fights my lungs for not reaching for more
Does that do for comedy
These tears absurd

In your perfect bubble on the ass end of the world
You might pour a glass to toast the wandering offspring 
Who could not corner his prey
Who lost his bounce

Who sees the gates there resplendent
With those yellow flowers
That got you an inch closer to a truth
Palatable to a world of labels

Back to the lights

 I left the tall forests walking slowly back toward the townlight
I avoided a swamp and some hissing reptillian in the grass before me
Wrists and ankles humming with electricity
Moving witht he slow drifting cloud
Painted with the reflection of city light

A town I didn't know loved me
That would welcome me back
Even though I need the altitude
The delusions and comfort of highplaces
The world may never move there

So I'll move myself
Like an ambitious orphan
teaching himself the way back to
The city of light

I left it all and felt the shape fo the rock in my hands
What was I thinking as a four year old boy
When I had been here to investigate in dreams
Up here in the forbidden peaks of the Mantiquera 

innocent heat

 In the innocent heat
I wrote your name with my finger
steam and wist
A star blink

Longing comes when the day is gone
How we wish thing were different
Casting spells instead of talking
Giving offerings but saying nothing

I could see the outline of something forming
coming through the street
The hush has fallen over the city
Must we wonder what could have been

In the innocent heat
The kind that tests sanity
That make me forget this aging vessel
The spirit of something manifesting

Blowing steam against a cold window
wistfully painting that name
Hope always there to take
reality a fickle finders keepers sort of goblin

Squeeze the world for color

 The dripping of reality
mutlicolored liquid 
slipping into the world
a drop into the eyes
A drop on the surface of the land

Each color an aura 
A drama under the wig
Inside the shocked face
swirling inside teh gaping mouth

Mixing and souping in the gravity
Thoughts and observations
Merging internal reflections
Erroneous perceptions

Taking the viewer further out into the depths
Of a multicolored lake inviting them to slowly drown
In those over pinked and over purpled delusional fantasies
In those depths there is abundance of feeling

Just zero oxygen

Open house and other projections

 Big bleached hair on the skinny man
Here to ask for the price of rent
be showed through the homes
Let him in

Tolerate the overexcitement
The convincing approach
he is here to sign a contract
Yet he is pushing the argument

He is underweight
running on the fumes
On the suds
On the euphoria of the last lay

Skin leathery up close
But shining and radiant from afar
Almost a lowlevel politician
Too separate too unknown

You judge this man
Not even unfolding the lease
He reminds you to much of yourself
In a world where honesty is pure vulgarity

Weather remind me

 I forgot who I once was
calling down from the cliff
my voice lost somewhere near the bottom
Where drafts shift and circle back
Compund ghosts of the past fight amongst themselves for direction

I paced back and forth upon the summit
Moon says hide
daylight sun says confront
Wind taunts with tone of dead empires
Invisible fingers on my shoulder

I look down to where the ocean hits the rock below
Slurping and spitting a slow sense of the sea at feast
The mist of it rises and freshens me
Every voice of the climate
calling me to stand and remember