Bay con bodybuilder

 Bay con stretched and followed a routine
None disturbed him yet none greeted either
it wasn't out of malice or that they were mean
He'd work himself from the warmup into a fever

Bay con shoulders soft and face discerns looks for signs
in others and onto each activity like a man who lost his mind
part of him gone the rest of him on a mission to find
trying to add on just enough to grind

to stay off the radar that expectation constructed
greetings are conjured first by the eyes
glances are many yet down or up or avoiding his
words go unexchanged none of your business

lost in the air begging mouths to be enounced
but tongues stay still even as the flinch pounces
And the clench of close proximity in the ice
Where a simple hello would suffice

out of the bubble

 He looked inward from outside his bubble
but who was he they asked
his glare couldn't quite penentrate the nature of his own life
And the onlookers chuckled at his inability

He had used an aeroplane to see inside himself from afar
To pull himself through the thick membraine of predictability
like a rebirth strange and pressurized
waking to these mockers on the other side

seeing his problems as clear as the sun
but in his eyes there was only fog 
from the other side of the world 

trying to form that stem of an inkiling
get inside his own head
a huge industrial city
crime and pollution

comice

 speckled and oblong
sitting stationary waiting it's turn
Four of them are joined cowardly laying
Hardly enough space for them all

It's skin a yellowy green
speckled like the breast of a bird
fat and mature calling the hand
to wrap itself around

in the cosmos of anticipation
on the journey to the mouth
purpose couldn't be clearer
yet sometimes they just wait and rot

 over ripened in the fruitbowl
bruising and drawing small flies

Locked into the vein

 locked in
coming to realize
long straight roads
Nowhere to hide

streets at attention
military parade
marching through the decades
paint and brick

Lock step toward the future
layers of tarmac
footpaths those thin margins
wandering residents

streets you need to fit into
tight socks the climb legs and cling
that aim you toward those predictable destinations
The infrastructure is the veins and organs

you locked in are the blood

The Matesic(Alyssa Matesic)

 Perfectly animated the eyes draw us in
The face changes gear and the skin glistens
The range in her feminine tone chirpy and matter of fact
Promising and reassuring

A thousand aspiring writers
hang on her curated eye brows
sculpted for symmetry
her critical analysis enthralls

The practical and obvious direction
so obscured by wayward wordsmiths
such as the effort filled nauseated I
listening to her make sense of it all

perfect elegance in her summary
Thick sweet logic we can't scratch into
The straightforward path
I break my literary legs to follow

Expectations well delivered

 when you look up and see it's still not there
disappointment changing your face
frowned brows
checking every hour to see if it's there

those that hope and wish by night
and check their doorsteps come dawn
As empty as the night before
turning back in a sigh

teaching the heart pessimism
worshipping empty expectation
elaborating the complaint
Garnering comfortable sympathy

then on that auspicious day
the cardboard box lays across your porch
Covered in labels and stickers
urgency has you rip the door out from it's hinges

The face open with surprise and disbelief
the arms and hands lunge in to peel back the cardboard
That wonderful light emanating from the face disappears
as you tear into an empty box a cruel baffling hoax

Tickling the heart so ashamed

 tickle the answer
form from one to seven
somewhere in between
the spine curves down from the brain

somewhere from where evolution
lost us our long furry tails
crawling scrambling laughing running
bragging comparing swearing and humbling

Reacting and responding holding in
sometimes just letting go
Delicate until we are hardened
illusions in our partying

tickling out a sense of self 
spilling it out over forbidden canvas
we are ashamed and pigeonholed
naked and abominable

worthless and criminal
tickle that out of a question
an inquision that laughter won
eating the kitchen massacre

mistaking the knives for insights
and stabbing ourselves with them
shameful blood pouring out across the cleanliness
exposed like the ant under the microscope

full of assumptions and clumsy hope
wandering out of the night terror
into the mundane desert where prickly cactus
tickle the conscience to relive it's experiences

each small needle like wound at a time
Whistling to the very echo over sandy hardness
that seems to mirror the sensation from under the skin
Except for that incessant tickle

The waxiness of the modified stem
Cut it open for water is scarce
Pierce it as it pierced you
There will never be justice

though such fantasies often tickle that sweet pride
The one you've hidden in the southernmost city of the heart
abandoned and neglected to tweekers and agoraphobes
who tickle the blood as it flows by

each small attempter trying to imitate the true soul
whose long absences invite them up on that stage
The very holofort light they crave
tickling sensitive eyes and skin

The fabled truff don't play

 The fabled truff boozes up in the bay
a drunk fish soaking up sting rays
Puffing up salty puns outta gill berries
dazing shellfish opiating them out of their shells

A city of starfish striving to reach up to the truff
Kelp plants grow up to him as if were the sun
Mining it's charisma in that lonely little bay
renewing their underwater structures

That fabled truff
broiling up the crustaceans
Bragging of points and sticky ability
Hoarding all the swagger in it's dorsal

Gazing at the coral and clams acid reflection
yahooing through the currents and eerie caves
To those jiving seafloor cities chugging octopus ink
without a stamp on his outdated permission slip

That Qi wind mojo Merk

 another mile at sea
across childish waves that dab they don't break
fanned by the infinitely restless tynes and teeth
Of a wind demanding it's fee

It glares then flies down filling sails
Kicking the kiddy waves unloading force
what is this invisible mass of moving Qi
Impossible to bring to heel

ebbing and flowing across land and sea
like coin currency beggers gravitate toward
where is it's brain and conspirators
It wasn't the clouds harrased and dispersed 

Monday woolen twenty fourth

 woolen mondays
scrambling to mittens
hot steaming cups of tea
and other attire that fits

Frost eases into morning
pavement wakes from soft snoring
making it's bid for foot traffic
urging the sun to dry it out

woolen mondays
sewn backward to weekend not the week
scrambling to inject a fresh dose of anxiety
A jive and a jig for some form of income

Just on four

 he ran in the wind
his white haired fringe flapped
the dark pond wouldn't have stopped him
Gumboots nipped him under the knee

he said goodbye to three
sprinted after the ducks
Well awkwardly ran 
The trees couldn't stop him

excitement glued to his face
the wind showcasing it
The cackle of his four year old mouth
rising and falling with struggling extended knee

in attempt to accelereate his legs
Along the edge of the dark pond
where every onlooking waterfowl floated

squarely holding on

 Those square hands
I place them on things
I position whatever it is
rightside up

emulate symmetry
Grip coffee cup sip
secure a piece of fruit
in observance only

More an animal than ever
one obsessed with the tool
of his own digits
obeying the thumb

to hold something
and feel the automatic 
firmness of the clutch
As if I wasn't born with these hands

From the south

 south unscrews it's wind
sending it north to stalk the night air
they seek shelter how they seek
through the trees and imagination

bringing the attempt of frost
winging in from curvature of the land
bringing the ice up from the forgotten
days dim and lose their heat

the vines lose leaf and fruit
The tree tops burn to browning rust
The lack of warmth stopping the lively
The south undoes the land

He lost his bear

 Following aimless Michael through the village
boutique house fronts in pastel with novelty letterboxes
short shrubs and lost puppies digging up the garden beds
tiny village main road Michael walked along

little soft toy bear in hands
Glum face up to the clouds then back to the road
the bear dropped to the pavement
Civilized concrete surface

Alone in that town for three hundred years
Just walking like a lost ant separated from it's colony
Not one neighbor comes to the window or door
Even as he whimpers aimless on the beat

this is his piece of heaven
he is saved but it numbs him

Survival smothered

 The festival centre
carnaval and outdoor mall
aimlessness of a thousand hopers
Dancers wanters and dream marked goobers

following each other over the trail
Into the junction of strange shopfront leisure streets
Like little novelty trains that are set on tracks
Ones their tiny wheels cannot breach

their excited minds driving them on
Like a flashing school of fish
mistakenly boosting toward the surface
where predators meet from the air and the depths

Celebration given a space a structure
A fixed location where comfort and fun manifest
Where the will to survive is slowly smothered
Where the myth of enjoyment reigns

Ominous ticking

 Her shoulders dropped
Yet none of the biological commands
along that one route to divine fruition
The set bought assembled and in function

Her pois shifted as a decade ended
pondering the surface desires that came and went
over the skeleton of biological commands
framed as dreams and goals and long held yearning

The day lasted so long on the brows of those men blind and deaf
the secret language of the hours counted and translated by her
She could relax back into the deck chair sun waited around
having a cozy one to one with the wind who was not listening

She adjusted her view out the window life would move
But never at the pace or in the direction of that underlying
biological need wearing the fancy dress of whim and preference
The heart was built to pump blood, hope and wish

sometimes obeying the brain other times just manipulating it
She shrugged her shoulders wanting to be less controlled by these concerns
Morning light through the curtains imminently waking her against her will  

The rumbling of those revellers

 There's a rumbling
A rolling and a roundess
it all seems a ball
lights and music

moving across the earth
a mobile party
unaware of itself
hedonistic

the voice boxes rattle
gossip and controversy falls
ears of many descriptions
euphoric and sarcastic smiles and frowns

learned and practiced to protect one's heart
Choreographs to protect one's individuality
There's a rumbling as a million wheels
grind and throw dust across the sultry land

Disinterested the occupants hide underground
As the procession continues to explode
Like a slow vicious hyped big bang
powered by motors and hearts

and opiates that protect the conscience
From every form of good sense and modesty

Morning airport

 Hold me and comfort me
monday lands like an aeroplane
we are the morning sheets and all
clearing sand from our eyes

Warmth and affection remains
The bed an airstrip for love
shared embrace allows us
to feel something beyond the obligations of the day

The closeness touches the spirit
willing and tranquil friction
wholeness and satiation
A dawn a birth an appeal to life

all desembarking from the aeroplane
The emotions we feel inside our skin
Longings from decades past
That rise in us as leviathans

with the strength of a plane
taking off with out conscience
with all of it aboard

spook

 Poisoned by the creek
The open division
spies and despots in exile
armed guards at the road check posts

a needle held up to the sun
a drop of poison slowly running
Drowsiness will follow
I'll lay down behind a low hedge

Yet there is no place unexposed
And what follows is my disappearance
what follows is a tight windowless room
and a slow death

Taste parade

 The parade attracted the whole village
people stuck to their small social groups
Walking around with tiny spoons
trying the different flavors

Moving and merging
separating and swerving
just to stay in their little groups
remarking on the different tastes

pretending not be curious about the other groups
tiny paddle spoons smiles of surprise
every scent and palate available
The cool breeze forcing wakefulness

elaborating in words 
The dazzling analysis of the last spoonful
words come a river with the same excited speed
as the mouth in eating

Looking for new inspiration

If you are reading this right now I am in your head.
Poking around curiosity overcame me

pulling a few strings lighting the bulb
looking for new inspiration

thoughts and dreams coalesce
feeding the need to provoke
The dormant imagination
Putting mundane into light

I am in your head
The humming generator
absorbing the architecture of the mind
sketching the drafts for my next works

You forgot your bags

 where's my suitcase

Looking for a bed to lie down in
the cabin full of panic 

To the hobo stationary distressed
destitute awaiting addiction

Life is travel it's about moving

he moves to survive

Out of the rain and into the big building
Where curtains and charity open to him
He asks...

Where is my suitcase
yet it's right there under his legs

people run into the building
to avoid the late night rain

Oh the frantic people in a life of no exits

He slops over the octopus

 Heslop the dirty octopus
salivating on the correction notes
whispering curses between compliments
curly black hair and prissy spanish pale lower face and teeth

pudgy and awaiting a life of accountancy
a fat future wife or big old gay husband
Using his red pen to correct my notes
and insist on my stupidity

Dimples that could decieve the well meaning teachers
but this dirty octopus was a freaky leech
That excess flab needs to find a fryer
seafood patties for a fruity baby fat shower

The silent Lowen

 The aggression lived in him built up
layer and layer accumulated behind his face
A hardened country boy severe and violent
The heat of his temper somewhere back

climbing to an inevitable peak
cheeks from slight tan to red
power flooding fron the heart and organs to the fist
Gareth's rage would not be contained

And then the shout of outrage
Fists flying one after the other
straight into the other boy's face
 conjuring pure trauma

Kane slumface

 Kane slumface harlem
His slippery short black hair pin like
Invited himself in and accused us 
of every wretched thing a kid might do

The hurt in his voice so heavy
So dark so pestilent
his body always inching forward
His fidgety legs adjusting his direction

He had championed the art of jeering
Of aiming insult to injury
Of squarely discouraging a boy to his lowest form
His demonic nature was impressive

yet you looked at his face 
and thought slum 

The horrid May

 It's not just my least favorite month
It was one of my worst enemies
Lanky and slight yet exceptionally fast
acne prone and desperate

The eyes were too close to the nose
And the tongue sharper than a slaughterhouse blade
He could burn a hole in your head with the glare
A lean mass of pure rigid boney wrath

Nicholas may or may not
addicted to his cricket world
I never fathomed his hateful ways
Until I heard his father cuss him out one day

Insanesbury

 The saintsbury the tallest lad
These kids come with hormones they should have five years later
With a military tone and an adam's apple digging out of the throat
These Kids run and smack like a full grown man on the grass

we just look on feeling like crib babies
The Saintsbury was born marching out of the womb
Skin hair just enough to warm him in winter
While the rest of us bare ones just freeze

Behind his spectacles he observes the class
Then bellows something indistinct
it used to be the old cornerstone
Of sleepy yellow eye mullet 

Athletic Bradbury

 Bradbury lips that agree in the negative
Long legs short body
baby face ittitated voice
Chin and forehead want to marry

the rest of the face had kids
Yes you are bicylce
The all rounder
Athletic mirror hugger in your day

Reagan Herman munster Frankinstein
An ear for malicious Morgan
carry it forward carry it forward
emotional ah pock a lips

Thornhill chutney gas bottle burp

 the thornhill beam
The hotdog sauce
The sweaty bus home
wreck I rang you

Sun exposed checking on consensus
what's cool repeat thin hotdog rebel
Thornhill in the manuka
Or with those notorious we are we's

But who are you?
And is it damp and problematic
on your inner walls
smash your beer bottle

Thornhill Lucky kid in the racket
In the kind gossip
tweaking popularity with skinny dancing legs
Pretending not to care

Pushing the buttons sausagedog cocaine
Now a family man no less insane
Tattooed for life by that thing way down Akatarawa
Use that keen old gas bottle chutney slang

(Sigh sigh what a guy)

Sand garden

 Each plant that becomes a tree
I'm searching for order among the trillion
grains of sand that make up the surface
of this tiny garden

each plant is an organ
With it's hallowed space
waiting for water and light
sent by these hands

Gully thorp

 In the village next to the deep river gully
competition and generosity traded places
big empty sections for small wooden houses
desperate teenagers restless inside

generosity was a given
winters were hard
neighbors only faired
if terms were good

And the deep river would take frozen unfed bodies
if the wealth wasn't spread

The pain you own

 Pain flows down the paths
Like veins on skin so rough
Like roots across cracked earth
claiming ground in declaration

emotion of hurt spread
within the skin only reflected
by the light of the face
It spills down like a drain removed

Avoid it with refusing shoulders
Soaked against the will
grin drowns in frown
body shakes for the monstrous pain

Lost lullabies

 That lullaby I have no right to listen to
The one my ears hunger
As A boy so wistful

In the breeze peaceful breeze
soul peeling off to investigate

That lullaby Not granted to me
Maybe I would venture out at night
To hear it on the wind and follow it
For a fondness of love

For a will to want to recognise it
before the heart grows cynical
To comprehend the melody of it
The sound that would put us to sleep
Stuffy summer evenings

A boy such as I romantic and naive
wishing the world might just sing me to sleep
send me off softly in calmness and comprehension
Yet here I am in the winds of chaos
3rd ring thrown about above the land

Senseless and disoriented catching a whiff of wild flowers
of soul neutrality a time without such aggression
My mind recalls the night light, those words from mother's mouth
Calmness in virtuous clarity
So distant from this heavy wrath for the world

Abandoned in Gehenna

 Ultimately broken He reaches up tears in his eyes
he cannot breathe he forces air in and out
There was only ever pride, there was only ever ambition
No foundational love no base to balance himself

he reaches up he reaches up and cannot feel the grasp of kind hand
He lies on burnt earth naked sick and in torment
A creature once human once a heart beating a chance at compassion
an aim at loving an attmept at giving now a dead joke just stirring

The only contact is slugs and leeches resistant to the embers
The breathless sensation of lungs that barely rise and fall
The old carbon stained signs advertising immortality
To mock the fallen man cursed suffocated in the smoke of hubris

Breathless he reaches for the root of the smouldering apple tree
The instinct for survival running in him like a dogged goblin
Yet hope, hope has all but bled out, he feels not the grasp of kind hand
But the void of a realm whose cycle repeats merciless destruction

His words echo a simple question
Slipping painfully back into delirium

Afterlife village of Haran

 Friend I'll leave you here, ahead is the trapdoor
it leads away from this fair village
Even though it darkens here early
Also it remains far from those golden cities

But christ often wanders here to cool himself 
In our quiet valley and in shade of us
at the edge of heaven where stragglers dwell
And among the outcasts

Jacob won't wake to greet him
Sleeping through given dream
For excessive purpose 
drove him to slumber

and those never recieved well carry out his duties
Down this trapdoor you will only find heaven fade
Michael comes to save a soul on the fringe decade
Wings on fire as he surfaces lighting up the town

But we never follow him down
for foul beasts lurk in the passage
for centuries trapped throughout like abrasive phantoms
singing the insane hymm that millenia passed was some form of life

So postpone your quest good sir
The light isn't blinding so take hammock and beverage
Bide your time in our fair village
On the edge paradise the periphery of God's time

Venture not lest you leave never to return

Buy a new skin

 Become the avatar
shell for another brain
To tap into and play
Purely an illusion

A wonderful surface exterior
wearable by the new geniuses
Walking out in furrcoats
ignoring reality owning it all

a few lofty values
explosive ingredients
overfed ambition
Underfed self proof

The avatar an appropriate cover
storing something inside it
With all the updates
add ons and perks

So you can hide that part of yourself
from the hounding public
so preoccupied with looking alright
the avatar here the ugliness within

A few seconds a head

 I was leaning on the wall to the garden
it feeds us and heals us
My elbow on the brick edge
pondering what the world should be like

The wind blows life arrives
cape and lightening bolt
cartoonish importance
here to stick it to me

On the sidewalk in the silent afternoon walk
Life there a few seconds in front of me
cooking up the next little event
should I rub my hands together

Life teaches me through these experiences
dizziness overcomes my state
In dullness color is the luxury
In heat cold the rarity

life will teach me what I really want
Life will teach me what I don't want
forgive those who are content within the nightmare
Forgive those owned by overheated desires

The soul heap

 Unfold life infront of you
Throw caution to the wind
It's concerning tragedy tragedy
The loose loose setter

setting up the boardgame
a soul heap for each one to sort from
Piece of yourself there wandering
out of control caution to the wind

Where where where has it gone
the spark in your eye the ruby in the throne
The rough old squares of the boardgame
not spilling the sugar your way 

So throw caution to the wind
Let go of the tight tight regretter
concern yourself not with tragedy
It's all a colorful piece of cardboard anyway

Throw the dice
Freeing the moment
Be someone you weren't
put it out of the square

Just a piece of nothing
waiting to be solved passively
in the rule of a popular game
which piece have you pretended to be

Bullet casing jingle

 He pulled the pistol aimed quick and shot
The trigger finger curved around and gave itself
Until the barrel exploded  into the head of a prisoner
Ritual could give it meaning

What was live now dead
Sent beyond here, beyond movement
gone gone
stylish holster

Gun fits back in
romance slips from the curse in his voice
as the body falls flat
the last burp

The empty vessel never to heal
no repeats unless the ethereal
has conspired afterlife in angelspeak sing
No repeats so the ritual should mean something

Hot barrel burns the inside of the holster
Excitement in it's heat wanting to be closer to his heart
Wanting to fire into flesh and solve some fiction
Piercing through it's own murdering addiction

Grin flicks brazen tongue between searing teeth
Jaw grit and an instinct to bite back the grief
So he pulls it out and aims with the same purr 
sun glinting off the clean steel chamber

Eyes of the victim wide tearfilled
sigh almost conjuring a plead for mercy
if it weren't for the resolve of the soldier standing over
the cruel hardness that married the gun

servitude in sensual regard bullet casing jingle
Head back half cackle and the trigger finger wriggles
the shot carries through taking that next life
Laying that prisoner flat not a meter from the trench

Seek the smooth

 The skull beneath my face
hard edges seeking the smoothness
of the smiling jaw flesh
perfect symmetry in dimples

the hardness of the cranium
underneath this surface appearance
The soft of me wrestling with the hard
Just movements to create words

To ingest the edible world
To knaw the bone the reflection
the sauce of my confusion
muscle and sinew make me

A skeleton buzzes in here
stuck inside
moving in unison with mind
The hard softness of it all

The physical human contradiction

Manasarovar

 There was a group of people by the lake
the treeless shores and the arid breeze
The water lapped at the thin margin
They were worshipping

some standing some sitting some running
Worshipping life the ones they were given at birth
pondering their destinies trying to read the clouds
confused and certain all at once

The bare land throwing dust straight into the drink
Children using their cardigans to emulate birds
Praising their existence sending their gratitude
Blessing the grass and crumbly earth

Living inside their hope for even more life
Love and freedom, that never tangible experience

Observed in total

 eyes broke through walls
burned valleys
incinerated houses
eyes forcefully demanded an inquisition

Sleep and words of comfort written
on the insides of my eyelids
as I slumber as I sink wanting to be invisible
Then wake again into the humming darkness

screaming bring the morning
bring the morning
Pulling at the hidden sun 
behind the dark horizon

Eyes to witness
penetrating eyes into us
Seeing what we are
evaluating

reading these words like clay tablets
taken from old roadside banks
to symbolize vision
clean unfettered observation

Eliminating the body
examining the heart's little soul
We try to hide like first day of school shame
No we can't we are exposed in total

awkward exercises

 the machine was broken I just asked if they knew when it would be fixed
human grains of sugar
effort noble sweet dedication
invitation validation roads through wild lands

can we get it fixed today
well I was just trying to make conversation
too shy to really open it all up
The place too full of people

The cord that pulled the weights on the machine was broken
the conversation was also interrupted
Noone said anything and embarrasment lived
across faces in hearts and awkward steps

One said we could reattach the cord to the weight
Thus fixing the problem
what have eyes decided we are
without asking

what have emotions influenced us to assume
without even checking
what kind of person struggles to speak
what ruse do you need

Erosion of age

 Like erosion of age
take the stomach take the chest
and all organs within to heal
Like an erosion of age

Take that six am walk along frosty streets
blowing steam out trying a slice of youth
first thing imitate the optimism you see
Like an ocean telling the sage

The real erosion of age
Tap into the root as morning light interrupts
Swing the bat using instinct synchronicity
Crack the frozen cage of inactivity

Squeezed between continents
The currents and tides take their toll
Breathe the ocean tells the sage
To allow the downfall erosion of age

washing the worst of it off
just to give yourself another decade of health

Ribbidy

 little ribbidy
ribbidy dog lick bite scowl
wlaking on the side walk restless rugged
rough and riggidy

furr is falling out slowly
his brown eyes search for another
the back legs kick and he's running
ribbidy scibbidy

He tucks into an ant hill
urinating up and down it
licking his lips and back to that riggidy rhythm
So impatient to smell to mark to rough it out

He looks up to check I'm still holding the rope
ears flick up and stance squares straight
It's disgusting shit-sue with them crusy whiskers
What he would do to sink his teeth into that lil rump

barking and fighting and rigging the provocaion
Ribbidy teasing and riggidy nipping and snorting

The edge of you

 The edge of the day
The part that sticks out
wanting to be complete
wanting to be lived by you

To act out the waiting routine
fall inside it
put it on like clothes
Wash them like hands

edge of the day
slight grin across it's face
waiting by the front gate
screaming live live

Plans get thrown out like nets
catching as much as they can
sorting it piecemeal
The edge of you

your nose your mouth
senses anticipating use
keys in locks wallets opening and closing
Washing and drying

Bathing and rubbing
each edge of yourself
Is there such a thing as a soul
without the minutia of your routine

For a prison on wheels

 you spent your life persuing freedom
throwing away commitments who needs them
The pieces of you that echoed servitude
Threw yourself into being free impulsive and crude

You spoke out against the injustice of our time
Unbeholden to anyone free to choose any sign
Off into wilderness to disprove your entitlement
Then back on with a drop of that sweet enlightenment

additive to the fuel as you ride on by
with a new slogan a color combo high
Fighting for freedom never to kneel
from the highfalutin prison on wheels

Breakfast steam

 The sun came though the window

breakfast wafted through the air
Steam off toast and coffee

morning sunlight angling through

penetrating the food and steam
Thawing window ice

The bite of crunchy toast

The slurp of morning coffee
The sleepy eyes that now see the day

blink quick

 Places and times
Grand adventures chunked together
excitement pushed on you from road and structure
anticipation fast becoming the drug of choice

Houses trees and entire cities pass by
Your eyes look over them
tourist to resident
cemetery

When the full moon calls you out

 the moon studies me
it has ripped clouds away
Followed my footsteps
echoed my name

lit my path
communicated
I am still
quietness folded into space

The moon looks down
unable to tell me what it wants
So I look up to understand
We connect at 3.30am unknowing

Hypnotic treadmill

 you can't see yourself it's identity fog
All of your empty sacks that were once full
Of accumulated misnomers not one useful tool
The old pale facers look confused

Yours among them 
Pay bleak, loose credit one third the value
some IT gig to cover rent and cookie
But no real line or thread to catch yourself
and serve your own mind

Yet all energy serves delusion
it's many legs running your world around
like a hypnotic rat wheel
relief in compulsive moments

Some invisible smile we reach for
finger tips touch thin air
want grows in stages
harvested from you with no return

quick swap
a bad deal but colorful
pumping false justice all over your face

Wearing that question mark

 I'd point at you and accuse you of the same crime
of not believing or worse of being taken for a ride
Because of the make and model not the destination
you shut your lips let a new state bury itself within

I'd point at you and accuse you a million times
Decrying your excuses and demanding a full repentence
For locking your door to truth and inviting in lies
for hot drinks, ownership rights and toilet on your carpet

I'd bellow until the epitomy of myself was seen by you
pop cast cynic persuaded minion of the band clinging
To the flow of these hollow ones riding the side of the cliff
It becomes vertical you plummet cascading into herafter

Corpse in dust mess moon slightly visible in blue sky day
You turn to the thousands of jilted gullible souls
Wearing question marks as uniforms in trendy affairs
Blocking out the conscience or the grins of those aware

you wear that question mark
age slower perhaps
worship ignorance
In a row of loud stiffs 

The shadows at three Am

 The long humm
midnight approaches
Jumpy and poorly sewn
you come unstitched

The short bumps and a shriek
a dog barking in succession then dead silence
midnight loses itself in seconds and minutes being dragged further
From it's symmetrical position on the face

The lonliest hour is one, it groans unashamedly
Reprieve at two where some balance is found
Just to be shattered at three witching hour
As shadows conspire and group together

Hovering over the sleeper with those invisible eyes
smirking at the last of your dream as you wake in fright
Then  disappearing to torment some other poor soul
Insomnia and haunting feelings compounded by some living quandry

The external relief

 she smiled backward
as if her mouth was capable
mute and ensconced
Uncomfortable with reality

she is free on the road
where she looks out in wonder
movement and the external
crawling with life and contrast

freed at last from the layers of herself
inside the wheelchair inside herself
dependent and wishing it undone
left as someone elses burden

In a world where we sponge in
she just wanted to be absorbed out

Without a floor to stand on

 I walked upside down along the cloud
My head faccing down to earth
My feet inside the white cotton of the cloud
Observing the drama and movement below

the dizzy walk fragile and tangibly perilous
The slippery skin sensation feeling of having nothing to grip
Nothing to secure myself in the wayward stroll
The confusion the endless vertigo

Looking down on an earth that I should be on now
Just taking a terrifying walk at impossible altitudes
Upside down and disoriented cut off from a solid floor
Shaken by the overwinds obscured in the storms

The mega mall

 Separated inside the big mall
A mall the size of a city
With train stations, escalators
Long conveyor belt walk ways

You got lost in it searching for the right shop
The right items, the sense of that perfect purchase
And in the midst of the bustle a pick pocket happened upon you
stole your purse and contents so you could only window shop

Marveling at the displays lit up by elaborate illumination
huge windows spanning the width of a city block
No more credit, not even a ticket not a cent
empty wallet empty purse

Spilt milk on the screen

 the giddiness of the current world
What they want they don't know and are not able
in the picture in the picture
see the milk spill slow motion on the table

Now it's sour dread
One big stain that spread
curdled into the shape of an atrocity
fermented and gaining viscocity

The nausea of flickering
somewhere in the mess
Inside the limitless cave tech Marius tech Sulla
Use the avatar to carve yourself in shape and color

share yourself with the world
smiles and accolades emoji bribes
Opinions about dogs and cats diatribes
photos of home only one percent fat

The cushion of acceptance

 The cushion of acceptance
let myself lay in the lull
The blah of the post shower
The fresh mornings shiver

Growing stomach of emotions
sensitive skin and recent tears
youth under layers of age
the endorphine glare in temperature change

The heart rests easy mostly above other organs
Beating just enough to relax the body 
nourish the brain and give feeling to the rest
Laying in the lull the sensation nameless

the cushion of acceptance
The desire for comfort shameless
The inner will fighting with the outer
Then the resignation cooling us into reality

The blues and the golds the porcelain
cleanliness for the emotions let tears run down
Like sweat did before now
Youth hiding under these layers of age

Seven years of good luck

 The shards have matched up perfectly
falling back into the mirror sealing themselves
Like overlapping cave crystals stitching
I can see myself again

the reflection sees past my skin
Into the turmoil the scars open and closed
The chaos of the aggressive mind exploding imploding
The lines of the broken shards disappear

until it's only one pane of glass
One reflection without interrruption
Morning light allowing me sight
see myself clearly

Seven years bad luck

 The glow remained even after the ritual attack
The mirror fell off the wall straight down and cracked
shards fall out and break themselves on the tile hard headed
A past dredged up a stew of no recipe a home video unedited

You could show us how we got so tame
just glue the pieces back into the frame
So we might see why all the fuss
drawing the shape of ourselves back to us

The glow remains a light so heartless
That radiates as twilight submits to darkness
Reckless abandon to the unknown alas
No light to reflect into cracked glass

Slip on shoes least you cut your feet
Slip on a mask to avoid your own face
A piece of yourself locked away
Smash the door retrieve yourself

Like a billion motors

 Make me smile again words spoken
pleading
Storms brush the longer nights
appealing

I am that lost statue
with a dream to be lifelike
To reign like a billion motors
make me believe again

Make the world see itself
knowing
wars rush at night between borders
glowing

I am the lost reason
The energy pushing on
I only wanted to be paint on the road
to control you divide you and guide you

ask me into the chaos

A piece of her

 A piece of her needed something different
Something unacceptable to the convention and routine
The pale page list to do and description
Don't let it be stained

A piece of her needed the experience 
The forbidden shock the indistinct unmet need
Surfacing from the flesh like an infection
Breaking out into the body a fever

She covered her face just to imagine
To delve into the right code lock of memory
To throw it on the mind's eye
thus tantalize

With may dying

 When you can resolve the past
like the sea at the end of a day
Inside that sharp cut between autumn and winter
Evidence of warmth that leaves for the north

The reflection of light in that shallow wave that made it almost a hundred meters
Carrying the sands of time with it filling some of the void you reserve purely for regret
Building you back making you feel renewed understood and acknowledged
The year falls apart on days like these exactly to keep you together

to show you how everything turns and changes
Nothing can cling or live in the past even under the energy of pride and wrath

The pumping heart of the world

 The world leans in
then leans out again
sometimes pumping like a heart would
Toward you away from you

beating and murmuring
Like a summer city street
Is that rhythm sanity
tangible to my fingers

Were we sent to fail
until we could succeed
Moving through heartbeats
desperate to keep up with them

sent to look ridiculous
soft hearts give in
infront of the masses
soap opera eyes

brainwashed clothes
tailord screen noise
The world leans in still
Then recedes

The entry and exit of blood
of oxygen

of food

but no meaning

you'll take no meaning

Lost layers of yourself

 when you lose those crucial layers of yourself
The comedy of it demands a mirror obvious hate
When you lose that semblance of yourself
The one that pushed you on no matter how long you waited

replace it with something pretend done symbolically
feeling your hamstrings as you walk
Your wristpain as you write shambolically
waves of despondency a nub of chalk

At the center of you is plain organs

blood in veins, marrow in bone

External perception interrupted by memory

colored by preference jaded by trauma

When you lose layers of yourself
Joy leaches out of things
Everything is blunt and tasteless
Though you search for a point of everyday

By the end your throat is too dry to say hello
your disposition unsteady to hear it
you retire to the shadows
Give thanks for the small blunt and tasteless things

Go and build there

 The good one said come with us
no matter what happened they seemed to be going
Where hope owned half the city
Grace was there and so was peace

At first they were strangers
divided like most of us here today
but they moved closer and built houses
Lights went on at night

people believed for love not for pride
No speculating or interpretating
The good one told us where we were going
But that each one of us would have to build their own shelter

Preaching onward

 What I knew of it in the past
the torture of it
it is of no relief
or sometimes false relief

Before the next bout of suffering 
That it is prolonged
And comes to destroy us in many forms
from the seeds in the heart and mind

Clubbering us with speed doubt
false urgency and disappointment
The torture of it unrelenting
proving us to be victims and cowards

To an outside world that only appears
as a sadistic laughing audience
Yet the strong have taken this very route
Even as we feel mocked and exiled

The power to walk onward
To continue not loving pain
but with every fiber
That tiny nugget of faith

No matter the terror
continue with a gram of good
A pinch of defiance
a nugget of faith

As most demons in us

 I looked at it from a far
I knew it's name and it's business
These things are salesmen behind images and tunes
Little gimics that play the heart like instruments

The strike and connect
Live on the ego and the tendency to err
appearing like a mineral in the ground
when something was unconvered

Rising up with the confidence I have often
with that springtrap certainty hair trigger
Me I don't buy it, it influences me 
Then I realize what it is

Like a free item
That asks you to sign your soul away in the fineprnt

The Rock fall

 The rock that has made the same descent four times 
in the last one hundred thousand millenia
as if it had a life of it's own all this time
Crushed in the shadows then exposed to the light

To the incredible elements
Like a random will to live
summoned by the earthquakes
and splits in the earth

Even the wayward meteor
making a deep hollow somewhere nearby
Allowing for the top to become the bottom
The rocks facing up at the sky

Until they get covered again and pushed up to altitude
Over the many millions of years.

The raving wane

 You can always count to three
when your out
Noone stops
to ask if you are ok

but thats the way you wanted it
You can count to three
count to three
for better days

raving wane inside the head
raving wane the heart one two three
Who I am I in chaos
the emotional roller coaster

You can always count to three
By the time the counts up
perspective slightly back into the picture

The flaws he never saw

 My brother was pale
His anger was written on his face
Instead of the hug his hands came quickly
To strangle me to death

The hurt in his eyes
burning and intensifing
The whiteness of his skin
Austerity pumps in the vein

Sadness and anger
Until the fingers loosen
He sees my defects my flaws
The ones he thought he never carried

The hearbeat out of reach

 whirled around
a quick hard wind
confusing
corkscrew

The top layer
The shedding of oneself
The falling out of contents
That cannot be contained any longer

To hug oneself 
To hold everything in
To navigate the vague highways of the soul
lost leagues beyond the central space

unidentified
flying toward nowhere
Home out of reach
Chest searches for heartbeat

Health in neutrality

 disease fly off
The line is erased
I need freedom
all necessities dulled

take this weight off me
leave me in the dark
healing springs
fizzing and bubbling

unknown inside
So far from the secret
life told me and confided
I made myself forget

Now I cannot find it
The emptiness remains
A junction with no signposting
A realm with no landmarks

Damp dark red brick tiles

 They met in the front yard
The big family smiles and quips, repetitive inside jokes for you
The dead fathers close by holding their hearts and kidneys 
and making fun of the sunlight wandering about

In life you just need somewhere to go.
The house was seventy years old
every spec of dust like those kidneys priceless
The damp flavor of the tiles the squirty dusty aroma from them

It was enough to brush your face with a damp unclean hand
make you feel young when you were old
make you feel strong when you were weak
among other strange humid illusions

outside the house the kids worshiped grass and play
The wives forced laughter and the men bragged like old goats
soon to be slaughtered by the ailments they pretended not to have
The damp bathroom inside the house with the red brick tiles

slowly absorbing the excess water from everyday's use
until the solid organic smell came up to have a conversation
As if your smell and taste could talk back and contribute
more like an overpowering lecture on your senses

Night will strangle day
Sports will be cancelled
the women celebrate the opportunity
To hide their need for control under concerned calling

So that the wayward children and teens will find their way back
To overstacked plates they won't finish even at the risk of losing dessert
which they never do for facial manipulations pull heart strings
Limits and discipline die their slow deaths

Hamish moving up

 Hamish was a drug dealer down industrial avenue. All he really wanted was to become an aristocrat. he found himself dealing with every common criminal known to man. His wealth and his influence served as great protection from the law. 
In society his wife was the ears and the mouth, their exotic vacations, their retinue of followers, the mystique and it all added up well to something exclusive and alluring. Anyone connected was getting their wants well attended to. For he had a system that until recently operated like clockwork.
But nothing is safe, noone is God. Discretion was everything.

Her eyes and mouth were covered at home
The concubines were also hushed up
With blindfolds and gags made by gucci
Spending hours in the waiting room

Hamish wanted the world
The errors of his employees caused him strife
The bribery and extortion were harder to apply
The conundrums made him lose his hair

His wife longed for each of those experiences
closer to the top of the social ladder
it didn't matter what helped her get there
salivating at the thought

At an altitude

 The edge of you looks out over the rocks toward the desert floor
The dry breeze inhaled the salt in the air the euphoria of heights
The humm of the land the invitation in the sky
eternally offering itself up so high

You look down a piece of the rock shifts under foot
shooting downward hundreds of meters below
dizzying emotion of it as you secure yourself
Sun the only contender heating the grey

illuminating the mad buzzards
Their swirling patterns at first predictable
Then they veer off on an angle
dangerous and hungry

like the heights you've reached
where oxygen begins to be leached
Where night freezes every surface a few inches inside
So check the parachute one last time

Without crossing the line

 Awkwardness manifests
A swing at your conscience
yet it won't go numb
the heart longs for recklessness

You didn't choose this you say
you didn't choose this
Resisting inside each day of routine

quiet and powerful
emotion is just an ingredient
shape it and concoct it
devotion steps on desire

Face the unbearable tension
Instinct and integrity
ache in the space inside
Thoughts feel like trespass

That water gives

 There is a smooth line of water
It cleans all the way
transparent and cool
harmony flowing

the energy inside it runs
from my hair down into the drain
The skin humidifies again
Living nothing

moving outside
bringing me back
To when i was just fluid
clean and colorless

Entire and brutal

 I see you plainly

naked

unobstructed

exposed

You may curse my eyes

They grace many wonders

unobstructed

exposed

The heart is decieved

told not to look

but the eyes do

without averting

Their passage communicates

a slip in time

a space between realities

a wish on hold

entire

hunger

brutal

desire

Organic limitations

 The sweat leaves me
salt and water out
breathless absent of energy
struggling against the organs

where was I was I human
Did I survive and become one of you
Couldn't I just descend into the earth
To rise a better species

something wrought from steel
Instead of this mere skin
The distances my legs need to travel
before I can get a swig of this life for real

So that I can feel I've lived on some level
Yet I am so breakable and burnable
with every step and every word
I accept it all

salt and water the sweat out
So finite just a piece of a puzzle
with a time limit awaiting a position
from some such angel hand

Organs must push me on
To the next grand attraction
just had over the script
tell us who to flatter

as long as my scream
measure the length of that
birth to death
a wire between all these cattle

separating them
being avoided for
my barbs and electric shocks
oh make me organic again

even if just to eat turf and follow furr to the slaughterhouse

The marbles of your eyes

 These realities
certain wild moment
creating a memory
imagined in a few years

savoured as much
connected back to the day
in your hand each moment as marbles
Such a child you grasp them and marvel

The sweaty little hand holds on tight
one by one they fall out each loss intensely bland
pick it up clean it once put it back into the hot hand
A piece of you unwilling to part from them

You see the past a basket of these small glass balls
Each one reflecting how the light so beautifully falls
evoking a feeling marked at a different point in reds and blues
Deepening your world made mundane by curtains boycotts and taboos

Tell that sweet cliche to the concrete

Tell a story of the road home
tears and steps
regrets and resentment
The concrete echoes

It doesn't want to absorb one drop
from your trembling eyes
scratched and unpainted
like your face

Tell this story
Don't mention tragedy
they might fall on deaf ears
Or be questioned for truth

the way the concrete questions your tears
The breeze only appears to be real by the feel
or by the wavering trees that sway on your course home
Wondrous illusion your family board game made real

Tell that story
As if noone else could
As if your childhood unique
could not be understood by anyone

Medicine you can park a car in

 The medicine is thick and robs me of my humanity
it makes me choke and drowsy extracting sanity
it spins my dreams with wheels of flame and calamity
If The empty heart would just fill with all these diseases

Maybe I wouldn't need to drip from the dropper
Give lip from my choppers sip beyond the stopper
Feel myself sinking into the narrow bottle
screaming out of the brown glass full throttle

The medicine's aroma leaves me giddy and off course
A thousand physicians conspiring to trick us
Me tiny fragments with symptoms that nestle
Help me to fit into these numbing vessels

In these small abodes reaching for the vein
So we can build a garage to contain
a car we buy for it
to drive to a pharmacy

Your foreseeable extent

 Life's suave crafted race
You solved the riddle
hit the mark play the fiddle
became the people who raised you

The indentation in the sofa
A piece of the finish line and lofers
You wear to remind yourself
Of value lost quest for wealth

The coffee mug punchline
trophy from adolescence
Old pride washed into vinegar
you won't pour out

The world used to send you beauty
Everything was a challenge
Now you fall for false predictions
sentiments sediment

Sweat stains and teenage children
physical image cracking
glue of sentimentality
of comfort of familiarity

cut and paste
reminiscence
mediocre repetition
Hold for the mundane glow

Jog

 There's not far to run
Streets are burnt in the sun
long weary eyes under you
As your exhausted lungs push

Be brave your soft ways
secrets some invisible desire
concoct the reply to a question
That keeps the restless unstill

There's not very far to run
I'll not run after you
The street has already absorbed 
enough of me

tenderness slowly touches
the veil of curiosity
Eyes try to steer clear
just compass arrows

stain of vino tinto

 The redwine stain
Total confusion
give yourself to the randomness
The hallucinations and vertigo

The mood swings that alter your facial expressions
Against your will from hospital beds
breathless oxygen must be connected
Machines set to keep you going

narcotics to sabotage the whole process
Bloodshot eyes and tornado nausea
You cut the anchor to let yourself float
pulled away from shore

by inevitable currents
smiling from the depths
upward toward the surface
euphoria stirring in their flows

And the total confusion drags you under
breathless you seek the painkiller
for those crucial fifteen minutes of relief
are a compounded fifteen hours of agony

Washing it away

 Into the slow developing
The mere figure the flesh itself
The walk through life the bacterial pool
The metal clanging above it to analyze

Slow steps disallow me to catch up
The disconnection forced like a cattle brand
Steaming the moisture out of the skin sealing it
The uncomfortable truths accumulated under hard skin

a wager made
what can I transform into
What kind of creature
Do I resemble

Progress seems like such heavy handed suffering
Decades and decades feeeding the stomach and brain
What am I within some network of semi-aware
Sharing the same appearance as I

Unknown to you
Unknown to myself
trampling the values of the past
To make space for an addcition to chaos

Progress taxes with heavy hungry coffers
bashing the unpaying and unthinking for lack of contribution
Those evicted feel the way I feel until they fall into a pool of useless
Searching inside the mirrors of men who blame the world not themselves

Make a bet make your pretty predictions
Sea of them behind me the sweat off
Into the waves saltening the water
Hiding and masking my tears

lifting me so high at last
I may be given a box seat
To observe the destruction
From the crest of the tidal wave 

Call back summer

 The june sun is not enough to burn
It brightens it warms the pavement begs
It whines as the wind bounces off it
The soft moistureless air asks where summer went

The shade brews the cold in small batches
that go wondering out carried on the warm northerly
straight into the street like a person walking fast pace
along the gutter across the path just to disappear

A lifetime in a few seconds
wasn't that what most people wanted
everything now?

Standing up for the victim

 Innocent being
not prepared for the wrath and corruption
The bullies and tyrants

The ones you'd struggle not to become
The ones that would chip or slice a piece of you
away forever

My brother from another life
You attempted to save him
I believe you did

Protection you once gave
The friend he never had
The world it did punish you

The predators
in wait along the street
You saved him

Put on a suit

 their big open mansions
Indoor pools and luxury mordom
Oh the design a sense of authority
the layers of income sinking into walls

The empty shining bleach swept tiles
almost reflecting my insecurities
Out into the mainroom
families united

dressed in the same color
you guessed it success
I'm still a mile from envy
Some are just further a long

I got this job
see my smile
pulling out knowledge and virtue
like lost greek servitude

The drunk who delays judgement

 Hello old man it's been such a long time
I didn't know you had a thing for white wine
One must claw for an identity is implied
You also didn't play the piano

You take a swig and fall into her painting
Her little shards of the afterlife's signs
You can't expect me to just drop everything
Is what you said a hundred times

Telling me to tread lightly
you came down like tonne of bricks
Error had made me unsightly
Just a fucking baby tick

hello old man the lights and parties of never
how they merge sublime a self deluded heaven
that blends and extends nowhere allowing yourself
to toast empty tomorrow's and pillpopping health

don't get your feelings hurt
refill your glass make it across the room
To the dismay of the hosts you won't be leaving
anytime soon

Frostbite at the superbowl

 Out on the grass the ball comes flying over
The two men ran backwards eyes on the ball
jogging backwards raising their arms for the catch
Not quite fast enough the ball accelerates

call it wind 
call it lack of player's speed
uncertainty in the knees
heading in reverse

The game was done
the commentators excited voice went on
The lights still engulfed them
The players weren't injured

They took off their boots
bracing themselves for boredom of nostalgia
But the thicker man started complaining
Swollen ankles and oily face

For they had their own curious conditions
One man compared his sloppy gout
Almost bragging instead of lamenting
The details of his affliction

The other man looked at him shocked
I've no such ailment he pleaded
The gout man turned and snorted
You've got frostbite

Impossible it's not cold
So then why has your discolored toe snapped off
Confusion and panic shut out the light and noise
No ambulances and no concern

No hope and no help
The medic got in his humvee
The audience left the lights went out
the sprinklers went on

The unmaintained street

 The gutter weed grows out of the dust and washed down dirt
The sediment that slowly builds over the weeks
Under that is the fire ants nest so when you pull the weed
You are attacked by the multitudes of angry ants

I dug out the weeds and the soil leaving the empty crack
That the cycle of flying and floating sediment starts over
Crawling things will bury themselves in it their habitation
a factory for the new weed seeds or cut root regrowing

The sun baking it and readying it further as another layer collects
Then it creates the exact organic dimension for this new life
To the human eye it is gutter weed
In truth is a small incomplete copy of the cosmos 

Social governance

 Some were excluded but the best dressed ate well
Their strategy of projecting equality sublime
Delivering the scraps with well flexed dimples
Climbing the human food chain was never simple

The oven just kept producing
The organizers on that first name basis with cooks
Those on the lower rung had to wait had to book
Unless their lack of timing could be construed humourously

Now every type and category of person has been ticked and signed
At the moment of testing human value only purchase power defines
Beautiful castles built from new era ethics and rights crumbles
The paintwork is chipped and we can see the last layer

Many were excluded plate empty outside the hall
Fashionable people exit and feign being appalled
Feed the dirty low income low lifes
Their giggles and charity themes

Their exits in long limousines
Engender envy in between
To nourish the fomo machine
mastermining both eye and currency in green

Sugar of the land

 They got lost in the simple game
spells are cast and realms are unknown
They come in jumbled and frightened
a waiting multitude of predators

It all seems like the sugar of the land
Yet the tongue will be cut and scored
They got lost on the roads and fields
searching for a gun, for a shield

each one came with their beautiful strategy
But the jungle was filled with a peril too many
Their codes and fancy advantages failed
So the greedy could eat

a simple game
Teeth must break flesh
blood must refresh sweetly
sugar of the land

The remains accumulate in winter leaves
so the undergrowth can return and foil the next wave
of suave naive error driven selfcertain players

Shimmering unapologetically

 You see it out and up and on the beat
See it shimmering
hunger and shame the poverties of the soul
I love the bouncy authentic lust for life

I see a reflecion and something wakes me
a shining piece of the machine I became
guilty of wanting to please
I love the bold and unapologetic essence

You could see it within sighs and the search to be complete
a deceptive path that one seems to skip along cheerily
Where I see endings and grief dealt disparagingly
Curiosity that longs to know pages

yet thick covers keep them hidden
That wrap tight the hopes and dreads
And hides them from the nosy hearts and heads

The boy who spat fire

 her kitchen was haunted you see
and at some point she didn't see her favorite child in me
I would look up next to the firewood basket
Such a distance such a well contained emptiness

at her picture of the boy blowing flames out of his mouth
Into the unknown
Into the space of void
Into the oven underneath

For all the quirks and ghosts it was the fire
unanchored spirits that tickled the late afternoon
and frosted the wee hours with snapping approaches
Her smile still warmed me as foreign as it was

whether the curse was seen on me
The patch of skin destined for ink or a scar
Her finger might point out from the afterlife
back to that painting she did

Of me blowing fire out of the void
A meal of gasoline burning the years
pure destruction the aroma and order of it
The eternal graceful gymnastics of it

Traffic lights and court cases

 He used to sit in his car banana skin between the seats
waiing for the traffic lights to change productive somewhere
electricity inside the vein working the whole day
unknown to himself less the work ethic

nostalgic praise and the admirable virtue
shaping it well into a personal piece of flattery
fitting like a key intothe hardedned ego
criminal by dusk when energy has abandoned

and threats were all a wheezing voice box could spit out
down the court steps the best years of your life
It all resumed into one moment in the sunshine
you won the day but after the liters of stress

they forced you to drink
The liters of sweat and rage that sustained your wrath
through the caged weeks into those looming result months
traffic lights stuck on red

Banana skins rotting in sunlight line through the windscreen
apple core turns dark brown and the fastfood boxes pile
If only you could just expedite this life
Like this big court reaction

The dead of the night

 It came again last night the 3am shadowness
It called me out as it does waking me
Staring into me as i would it
If I could see into the darkness

It must be smiling
It is so still
a mute child
Hellborn and defiled

observing me as I lie
sleepless on my bed
Wondering if I should feel dread
shadowness here 

It dissapates from whence it came
it's origin a bell for fear the mind so tame
The heart so wild inside this side of me
The shadowness of me

fusing with darkness
the empty hours
lost silence
life out

dead of the night

Bumped my head at midnight.

 I bumped my head at midnight so...

So hitch a law to laugh at
Go rush the beach a lover
Go grow iron throw shore hands
Do roast shoes stew mix with sure wrist 

At last the rapture came liqourice
Never a cent for the cold binoculars
Sexy yuppie In the berry fads
Some choose the music's muse

I bumped my head at midnight...

Sore hick your turn to laugh
Crush the leak Score low
Go medium go chiraz
do rooster juice staring

lost was natures self
in chore you now
obstacle in cook you there
Some Suez who was the whizz

The time machine's mirror

 sweetness unfolds and hardness is colder
the cherry cheek of the face the steel forehead
the dimples that appear smile side long
The frown that throws pessimism on us

The ages on a face it reflects and absorbs
It throws away indeed it does hoard
Contrasting the happiness glowing light
With dull and solemn frowning blight

the ages over the layers of fine skin
That wrap the bone structure head to chin
Those wrinkles that attack as year limit dwindles
The clear lustful beauty that time easily swindles

It goes like the face of a mountain on erosion
or lava flows that burst from explosions
Leaving the eyes dark and lines deep
Tears over the rough igneous seep

The hand open in the middle of the Negev

 He gave me his hand his wrist
he said he knew I listened
the sky darkened the desert quickened
Time spilling and trickling

lost to the wind searching for signs
memories of shame and great war crimes
posturing on a rocky terrace as cloud and night joined hands
He offered me an exit a saving face before the storm

Yet my eyes went to the tips of the oncoming clouds
inviting them to stir shake and open like angry crowds
To deliver flashes and deadly forks a rumbling loud
To rain and change the face of the sand below

Through soiled rags, destructive lives I grow 
I looked at him light obvious from hand flowing
The sand storm imposed now my words taken
My vision gone and life left me though I held on

under the sand tapping on the afterlife's door hoping
The only part of myself exposed was my hand open
For the greed and the desire that stacked my haughty soul
The replays and flashbacks relived to take their toll

The ruby tipped rod

 Eyes might linger as long as summer
As green as those hills do
as long as the want longer than the will
The imperfection arouses me

That alone is demonic
Invisible suffering a frost that wasn't
a deadening cold an absence of something
Intangible the shadow of a face

the apparition of a face
far off lights
an abandoned city
plagued by old spirits

That alone is demonic
Powerful legs might want for carry
Powerful arms might hug
Sensitive hearts will worry blunt ones just tug

Sooth your muse

 He sees an object
something not entirely real
A few lovely panels and a price tag
Shutting down the sigh

said he would seek
when it was your time to love
Climbing up on those expectations
Caressing the roost when it's your time to love

Love was to get you firm, like a guru would
Never giving in just to win a core crow lier
Finish die up with the corny croppers
Soon sooth your muse voilá

So heat up it's your time to love
Cross the reach to cure your love
Go veer the oar go, sure as
The ruse stirs stirs stirred

Love was forget yourself as a squirrel
never grinning out from the cork cooler
Six feet up from the lucky fussers
Son sues you lose voilá

Eleonora's

 Inside the heart is the generator
organic linked to things we seek places we delve
between faith and blood flow where do we find ourselves
ligaments and veins moving around to allow me to walk

The heart a pondering wheel
The brain forced to feel

Slowly over the sea not touching the water
like a gull on the breeze
a torpedo first time free
blinking on the radar screen

Inside the stomach digesting
expanding and contracting
bathing it all in acid
extracting the fuel

The mouth a beak
The wing speaks

Slowly over the land not touching the dirt
Like a peregrin killer outflying harriers
Toward earth tickling the sound barrier
Bearing down on prey leaving carrion

Surgery of the lie

 Heal the wound it is the brimming pain
I have seen the frugal rise
and the ostentatious dim perish
until the earth has opened up

Stitch this cut this ongoing regret
reinforce my rebirth kindle hope
Freshen my eye to this world of violence
bath me in the reality of it's ills

guide me to the path of pilgrimage
teach me sacrifice and humility
nights are dead silent yet shadows dance rapidly
Across the refugee camps inside our nightmares

Help to disassemble the illusions grand and well built
those falsities that I've celebrated as truths
Until they solidified like bars on a prison door
Keeping me well contained feeding off the lie

Now cut it out as one would an abssess
take away my need for want, need for excess
purify me in the world's one unseen
cut the lie right out of me

Premonition glaze

 He sees through the flesh
At midnight looking through your gate mesh
all of your protection illusions and folleys
He has used the night breeze to fly the valley

raging fires have surfed him in on these tides of tension
On these powderkegs and timebombs pre explosion
On these stages for glorification pre war
On the world's grim graffiti wall

He sees through the presentation agenda
The rhetoric that dresses the pure propoganda
The kickstarts the emotions of a sleepy mass
Impressed by the self aid technology hash

selfish and dwindling minds
feeble under the nonquestioning guise
leaders that have used the thread 
for their brainwash hive

Make a place for me in your heart

 Inside the hide
watching waiting
the external stimulus
The lonely people
the active egos

The loss of your attention
your silence
Little harmful habits
pet shame

that bell rings
subtle betrayal of yourself
Inside you hide from yourself
through tendencies

Ignoring the will
following the painted ones
glorifying the well shining
unknowing yourself

Invasion of Adana 2027

 Erdem and Hezarfen arrived
The gun toting
Strong against the illusions
The southern invasion of Adana

Defend these lands
Use the same ruses
in other positions
when certain use all ammunition

For they come to destroy
what you are and were
Their technology aimed
Their rhetoric rages

Don't march them out
Organize the counter
With finess and obsession to detail
triumph in the face of a world that denies

Corrupting the injured soldier

 "What is your name?"
"If I tell you, please do not try to use it against me."
"why would I do that?'
"Because we have a heavy task ahead of us. My name is Val'Zekir"
"Val as in valkyrie, is it not so?"
"Well aren't you romantic, no Val as in the valley of the dead, spring of the stix."
"What do you want from me, Rochus said you would help us wipe out the communists."
"Don't you mean the heebs?"
"Oh those too. I mean sure, I would give you my left nut if I could guarantee that."
"Really? I might still lay claim to that, could be quite the heirloom"
"Your name is Val right, your some sort of spirit. How exactly will you help me."
"Ha if only the rest were as forward as you Addy. Yes i have a list right here, some of the guys you know already, most of them you'll meet at the beer hall"
"There you go! Sound more like a Demon than a spirit, I cannot drink and I prefer to remove temptation at all costs. But give the list here"
"Okay now you have to sign it. cut your finger and sign through your blood."
"Eckhart told me about this, now you are really sounding like a Demon."
"Adolf I am a Demon, it's great doing business with you."
"Why would you trick me like that, now I have signed. I didn't want a pack with the Devil."
"Oh not the Devil Just a little bureaucrat. Although I have some pretty good resources."
"what do you mean?"
"Well the list is sacred all on the list will stay loyal, and all will help you to rise, I will give you europe, death of your Commies and Heebs and the other undesirables your fragilility cannot tolerate."
"Hey that sounds like a fucking dig, I didn't come here to be mocked. You'll all turn your backs when Im done and send me to worst corner of Hell."
"On the contrary your work will give me the authority to send you to Qliphoth where you will be a prince of destruction, but you will act under Thamiel not Satariel so just admit that people repulse you. If you want any career in hell you need to know your master."
"What if I just withdraw from this nonsense, Rochus said you might just be one big elaborate hoax."
"Look out the window there, can you see that hotel?"
"Yes what about it?"
"Watch it burn down infront of your eyes."
"You can't pull that off. How are you doing that?"
"Take the lists and join those people. Then make your own list of people you don't trust or are obstacles and eliminate them. The shell needs you, and you no longer have any need for your humanity."
"Sounds like twaddle."
"Last night you dreamed that all of your enemies would be given numbers to replace their names, then be forced into purgatory, did you not?"
"Rochus probably told you that, sounds like something I would share with him."
"Lying again, not a good look. You don't tell people about your dreams, you try to seduce them with their own ones."
"Okay so you have some psychic ability, why should I believe you."
"Follow the script, just don't invade Russia."
"Ha invade Russia...



 

Childish adults

 She turned and her face said 
I can read you better than you can read me
and it was right in my face like an insult
I closed the refridgerator door an adult

went to the sink a child
washed a few dishes for relief
and she looked at me and saw
the blatant defect unbandaged and raw

She spoke to my age
but looked at my infancy
my helplessness
her eyes laughed

I sought comfort in vessels
cups and bowls and houses
somewhere to save my own wavering spirit
Now like a post was half burnt half torn flag in the wind

Everyone is invited

 The party included all
None excluded so pariahs arrived
gossipy susan showed up
with the person she'd talk about

Red touched with pink and orange
was the insistant color of the brickwork
The streets were strewn with material
inhabitants hadn't decided ownership of

barbecue coal begged for fire
became ember and left in the ether
Drops of fat landing sizzling and ascending in flame
Rumours met confirmation and denial

Extroverts voice boxes and gestures honed
Flattered and taunted in milky proportions
trying to balance the mood of a group
slowly walking into inebriation

Afternoon overcast sky
wandering into night not in a rush
Laughter and throat cancer
Ridicule and the smell of burning meat

The hand that feeds

 Her dogs attacked her
malled her in the middle of her perfect garden
I had to jump the fence to save her
she was pretty old by the time I got there

Because it took a year just to jump the fence
By the time I carried her upstairs she was elderly
all the bruises and bite marks had long healed
There was no need to give assurances

The reward was sweet and renewed me 
The dogs who looked like savage killers
Now glistened in the second story patio
What could have provoked such a betrayal

what made them bite so ravenously 
in the garden
The bigger mystery was
how did they outlive us

Impounded

 Little plastic truck
One that fits neatly into a carpark
a reolved matter
Night is no time for driving

The lost streets that connect to main avenues
where thieves hide in the shadows
clouds are too afraid to rain
here I am running my hand over this plastic truck

now it's lost, it's been impounded
I walk empty mid morning
that piece of garbage was my spirit
I am mute as one leg goes infront of the other

When I had that plastic truck I had a destination
now all I have is the sinking feeling
That without my little plastic truck
life has no meaning.

Authenticity is an uninvited guest

 Tell your own story
one that defines you
kill the impulse to lie
with a heavy truth

That sits on the page like an uninvited guest

My airplane

She is an airplane to each place
every beach that her feet graced
Every piece of the sun she soaked up
Through every jourrney she shined

Through the cloud out of the blue
shining in every sky she flew
landing on me our life as two
eating cashews on the sand

Then the jealous peanut man
recognizes her as the airplane girl
As he crashed we took off at ease
The currents of the sea and breeze

Lifting us beyond the grey and austere
Toward and over the majestic mount aqueras
Landing in a soft green valley leaving behind the fears
She is my airplane taking us to the future

The Renewable soul

 Let me tell you about the last sixty nine thousand times I lived so you see
Listen to this story I shook and I shivered and seldom felt free
From birth to death the days curved around so the months and years could roll
All for some sacred system Our lord's own lapidation of the erroneous soul

And so I lived out those years unique and open then introverted huddled
through those repetitive lives the membraine of my universal self shuddered
warmed up thrown into the judgement hall naked and sick
Their language unknown to my ears

Keen to read out the million indiscretions, sins, the laws I at some point betrayed
The walls were gargantuan concrete wheels that turned the snap decision was made
Hurled breaking speed to be born back into a body to repeat it all again
So hear I am if you dare, take these simple words in vain

invest in some paradise dream of heaven a long leisurely eternity
eating ice cream with your wonderfully perfect dead family
on some ride you remember from coloful disney
Repeat your belief as you wake an infant renewably

The hunger

 The bar the steel
the transformation
the pump the curl
the arousal

The call the effort
the sweat the overcoming
from the gut to the muscle
gut to muscle

Breath is trapped
then eases out in difficult gasps
the weight lifts then descends
repeating until flesh is hardened

decades pass the fat is destroyed
converted into durable muscle
The appetite grows
I see an edible world

A shift in the wind

 A shift in the wind
A force from within
A life coming through
Changing the world

A shift in the breeze
Tides slowed and something released
Something formed in ease
wanting to live pulling through

It attached and pulsated
Desiring existence
Ambitions to breathe
Opening womb with genetic keys

The machine of machines
biological and uncontrollable
making little leaps
growing into belief

Eden abandoned

 I done Eden at the end of last century
The random hills the early frosts
My footsteps on your octogon
Blue skins to Saint Clair

The bare cold mountains
I have touched mount Watkin
I have met the seacliff ghosts
breathed the salt air

The hoards of birds
weathering the dry entry
to bipolar winter frosting the edges
of silvery brown rivers to bucklands

At night I observed the mad remnants
Of those unfortunate souls 
Who emerged from death at night

In the hawkesbury grounds
Old Cherry farm abandoned
Flickering streetlights where noone lived anymore
Except me and the forgotten insanity in the old empty buildings

Lest you remember the Maxim

 The blistering machine gun revolves inside itself
pushing out molten ammunition upon our path ahead
I can hear the striking metal penetrate the ground
We can feel the tremble of thumping earth our future peril

The harsh ear breaking crackle
the odd round flying over our nest
flicking turf into our eyes flies and pests
whizzing lead wasps looking for flesh to embedd within

The rattle as the last rounds leave the chamber
the hiss and steam as they splash water over it
The cooling off connecting belts and oiling
Spilling blood across the soil and recoiling

We jump from our bomb hole to seize the next trench
But the belt has reconnected the chamber lights up
We stop and aim in that split second the afterlife calls
Those lead wasps burrow into us severing bone and organ

souls robbed before we hit the littered ground
Our mortal remains nothing more than fertilizer
as the coming boomers will wave poppies
and sing lest we forget

But the machine gun lives on
and has long forgotten the death sent
giving life to a trillion lead wasps 
who seek skin, seek end

Down the road from grotto crossing

 Their family house was open to the street
all were welcome for it was a special day
It was forhoorayday and along that narrow sreet
restless neighbors crawl over smiles and greetings

Fat grandmothers and skinny grandfathers joke
prepare meals for the unconscious children
Who believe the easy ideas and uncommon sense
That flows through the lines

Houseplants and picnic tables
Anecdotes told a thousand times over
early hilarity smooth condensed milk familiarity
The damp shady car entrance

Far from scheduled public traffic
But close to cave rivers too wide to jump
taxed by dwarf toll agents that look back
at the happy family up the street

The bus fare was too expensive

 Orismar out of Maranhao
Brothers and sisters that still hold on
one day he may return not the wanderer
But someone known unto himself

He forgot his own birthday
and lost his personal items
He begs on the street exposed
Working hard abandoned

Getting taken out of private property
Like his family expelled him
Forced him to make a life somewhere else
Losing himself unknown in his mind

City to city lost to the wind
Lonliness feasting on him like the cold
eating his warmth and trying his soul
He looks up early blueness still smiling

They look upon him a vagrant
which he verily is
In a bigoted land he is gay
Racist eyes see he is black

He may never be someone
yet be more than us
Misery in the mind
he conquers with a smile

Our nagging thoughts
don't compare to insect bites
A lonely park
No mercy to this boy

A world that consumes
ignores and disapproves
poverty the abomination
the poorest to be discarded

Old Batts

 Black dog tried to calm the three of them
Their insanity present in words spoken
pouring all over the walls and floors swelling
Into the ears of frightened human dwellers

Mathmatics would tell secrets and rumours
Cypocryphy the accurate forecaster of storms looming
And Jerusalem the reciter of perfect scripture outloud said
Blackdog to wake them, feed them and put them to bed

Thus was their lot in Tennesee
instead of moving they settled
letting foul phantoms be
and how they stirred hell

Because walls spoke and rang like bells
screamed and cursed night long in the abode
stopping and starting like morse code
Jack junior it protected

Jack senior it hexed
So they all blamed old Batts
whose difficult life would inspire grief
whoever said it was a witch?

Savor breakfast

 Spread a piece of it upon the melting morning
Your lack of understanding sweetest jelly forming
Not so easily topped yet it softens
Under this sun thus so often

working to light up pavements and lawns
Spread the games you play out toward dawn
Morning still myth ready to explode dreams
Sweet silent gestures unnoticed gleams

The dryness and the wetness adored
Humaness spread cross the floor
The definition of breakfast under sun
butter milky melting honey

The urge to live as darkness retreats unchecked
Day rises and begins we inside are trapped insects
getting stuck in the melted butter and Jam
When a dark coffee satisfies who I am

Father I fell over the sun on my way in

 I've fallen over the sun
It wasn't at play father
It was by accident mom
Now I'm overcast and in her bedroom

I'm through the glass like that glare
That exists when a nuke opens
That hindered shine enshroud
The explosion behind cloud

I've fallen out of my cot and lie sore
headfirst ejected onto the hardwood floor
Suddenly here in this primitive surrounding
between people whose opinions of themselves astound

something threw me from the sunset
And I fell should I have been given a helmet
Sent me unprepared an absurd wingless cherub
bloody still wearing a piece of the umbilical cord

They come wearing their fine cloth and badges
to mock me hoards their mouths jagged
scorn me in their perfect droves
Organized in positions offensive rows

I fell from the stadium
how'd they get here to the bleachers
here they still jeer me within reach
I can find the rhythm in their sweet lie

I can't fall for it though
In lines and rows they evacuate
obedient and dull eyed sealed fates
shining just a little too brightly

Ferry to Perdition

 Across the moor
the bucket oars fall in
the long canoe drifts in silence
It's the only animal visible

A human heart and an urge
to get to the otherside of the land
Trick the madness that amasses in the temples
of the human head

The fog spins like cotton in the weave
And darkness forgives us light
We enter the boat and hear distant splashes
Something fell in

The moor rests silent again
as if nothing had ever happened
The ferry man hands us oars
tells us to sit tells us to row

But where are our bodies
Where are our bodies as the oars dip 
roll and swirl through 
just to pick up and dive through again

Smooth pitch black penitence
Something glides above us in the dark
Is it connected to wings or some long neck
The shore across seems an eternity

The oars follow through 
Whistling ghost bodies all we have
Now somewhere over the deepest stretch
where illuminated creatures swim far beneath

The ones that decided the rowing wasn't worth it
Ones that have already adpated to some other existance

The skin of the lake

 On the jetty
the blades of the waves hold gold
The reeds and the weeds fold wild
Into the water the red wine tincture

making the lake floor unseeable
and the Long slithering things that live
Just below those golden blades
Water's sensual rejoice toward the sky

The gray worn slats of the jetty
jutting out awkwardly into the spill
The wind skipping and pushing the small waves
The surface beautifully wrinkled 

The breeze drenched as it crosses the lake
No feet or weight to make it sink
just rolling and capturing and brushing
Cooling the cheek of the onlooker

The death of Mortimer

 Their lives were closed and packed in the bags
carted off on a coach to some western border
Destiny unknown chaos in the sovereign land
The hopelessness of inexperience

Kingdom intact requires a lionheart
with all angles and all powers against him
Just the few competent masters to hold him up
Push him forward help him uncover glory

Those first to Halidon hill
Patient upon the high ground 
Under attack by the desperate
A victory was nothing more than a claim

To greener pastures
And a secure court

Shadow loomer

 the shadow loomer
corner of the eye
you look it's gone
The hidden little spy

presence in your space
track it with your sight
you cannot see it directly
Yet you stare into it

the invisible nature of the world
thousands of fleshless creatures observe your daily life
sailing into and out of your homes through dimensions
You cannot identify their existance

The painter of end times

 Her inifnite gaze
She put down the demon with prejudice and ease
she sought it in the castle of our lost descendents
she sought it upon the open fields where our own plebish blood tilled
she found it upon the city spires and called it down with chants ancient and profane

she had the power to conjure the grinner from the checkerboards of hell
just to chew it up with the same thousand curses we underwent to be here today
from the dawns of centuries past enduring our need to brutalize
She brushstroked the weapons we needed to destroy the fiend with
reach it in the dark where it waits to assail us, crush it's grin, move right in
Why verily she slayed moving on cloud and sonolent sails into the netherworld

Giving them no peace and raging into their own realm with no fear of the consequence
Coming upon the forbidden walls between their realities and hunting them down
The blade of her brush the infinite gaze of creation reaping them down
using their sewage solid corpses for compost I witnessed her standing on the hill
ushering in the destructive times ahead how these years twist with pandemics
selfishness we have never witnessed ever in hsitory before

Moving past the wand .
Hovering over their laws
reaping their heads off
Pulling us from the raging waters
from whence we drowned a million times fore here.

Her infinite gaze. eternal vision.
flesh could not hold her back she the sorceror
she saw through the sunset gull crying omens of new
She tied and bound the hill witches above
She sent the wayward souls into her machete dolls
She embraced the true God through nature
Her power guides forever

Back to life.  one millenia.  Deep power

Holy holy fire

 Fires awaken inside
The sky is where killer drones ride
They solidify bone and twitch muscle
Forcing the weak and lifeless into hustle
Fires cleanse erasing the humm
Missiles guidance system rule of thumb
Incinerating it completely
Until it is cabonized and empty

Higher forsaken city wide
Fires take flight and ride
They ratify the throne in bewitched husting
Streets of napalm that once were bustling
Wire fences phases for humans
In great camps of extended doom
Obliterating their land of plenty
Until it is carbonized and empty

Flames embrace each step alive
onward through the grey lifeless expanse burning holy holy fire
Burning holy holy
Burning holy fire

Dull swamp ghost

 The dull ghost inhabited
corner of the swamp
midnight leaks
silence over all

It walks over dank waters
noiselessly in tight grace
Perfume rolls off the higher trees
Eyes of bats absorbing it all in

The moon becomes unobscured and comes
It's shine orders the reeds and long grass
opening paths for greedy serpents
One side of the swamp to the other

silence uses the moon
Thick and supernatural
Then a splash
something leaves existence

The hoard of spirits emerge from the mud 
seeking empty abodes from which to roam
early hours manifesting through air and stench
They wreak fear onto the night street

Those dead in the silence of the swamp
Under the bilge
Under the rot
Cooking from hell

Regain the Mojo

 my mojo sank this morning
The bald elderly future version 
came to visit in the early morning
Took a few grams of lively away

I had to tie it altogether
Build myself back up
Borrow some wasted energy from my own past
unhappy at being taxed by the future

mojo sank and another wrinkle formed
Another question of purpose
another tool to sharpen
A fuse to replace

So I kept my head up to the cool blue
coffee jar empty stomach not hungry
moving with no legs it appears
yet indeed I have them

Just need to get that mojo back
drained off by dawn sleep chaos
The chatter of a crazy night
I need to raise my eyes

They handed us c4

 They handed us an explosive
we had nowhere to hide
we were inside a small cave near
the sewer drain

They had found us
Now we were dead
soon to be enclosed in an explosion
Each moment surreal

The outset of a hallucination
Unfolding into the death 
The separation of life from flesh
Just stained shrapnel

whizzing into whatever is left of the day
A reality we are now locked out of
caged windowed looking out
only tasting a new envy for the living