A station some find

 In the dim yellow light across from the train station
milleniums of contemplation
sat the old man stroking his beard
telling god to speak more slowly

In the dim yellow light of another millenium
all manner of travel
every concept of a path
racing toward some finish line

The old man's aunts and uncles
chewing the fat sipping the decade's tea
just outside of his place railside
as happy as these sickly sweet southern summer christmases

outdated in their clothes gestures smiles and even step
stained by a sun that never existed
he smiled out toward them
the backwards children about to be given a new life

Linoleum and plastic thread all up and down the walls
a free space outside his tidy sunlit cabin
infront of the tracks
The center of spirituality was never inside a church
nor a temple for you rule obsessed prunes

No the real flow of god exists in the symbolism of railway tracks
Everything that moves is angelic he said
on his third or fourth life
hundreds of years ahead of me

laughing in weeks as I do in minutes or mere seconds
Making his way to the central station there
funny how no trains were running
and every passenger desperately sprinted to where they were going long ago

and more countable in earth years
nodding at the mountain
nodding at the flats
Father watch these steps
father watch these steps

sight

 The soul is blue white burst
traveling through the center of the house
calling the mind and the fear
eyes form into the ghost beam

As thick and energetic as lightening
that soulfire from the eyes of the gone
setting my mind to see
eternal mistakes

glaring out from one end
pulse emerging from the face
flashing waves of blue white light
My lack of power

My hunger to beat it
it's huge aura
soul of the house 
of ages past

river of force
where is my shield

City of the bomb

 all reactive ingredient sum
last straw is drawn

Nations arm bomb and gun
apocalypse dawn

diplomacy stunned
closing door

refugees run
from burning city shores

The drone wasps humm
weapons drawn

a million skulls numb
as new explosions are born

Purchase yourself

 the ornate box half truths
sitting idly in front of eyes that might open it
proving a point that their predictions were right
corny fashion to follow with a few drops of enthusiasm

Your body lurches forward
your hand leaps toward the handle
desperation writes itself into your face
as the shopping cart slowly tips over the cliff

Back to the mall with you
borrow another thousand
a grain of you unsure
A beach convinced

Purchase your way into existance
Trade for all sugars and brands
that give some semblence of belonging
the desperation to connect

decorating yourself celebrating yourself
wearing an identity tag
credit card limit sour
A person unknown to themselves

obsessed with worthless treasure.

Gas time and glory

 water bounces in a pool
Sunlight makes it a sea of mirrors
yellow bright characters lost in dance
prisms of boyant reflection

shimmering sheet rising and falling
like the sonolent chest of gods
That humidity sweeping across the awe on your face
Writing those lost greeting cards to all who've passed

The vigor in you is the quiver in the ripples
burning bright in the motion of waves
Streaming gold and wavering
looming falling overlapping

Light and water in strange union
both wet and lucid
Love drowned deep in that radiant sparkle
transitioning into form that we never were before