The following posts are old poems. For newer poems see YouTube; contextual expansion

Sings the alchemy machine, Absolute red shift into blue collusions, Signatures of true undoing attuned the hue translucency, Muse allusioning, light spells only unknowing rainbow achievement begins to turn more than wheels of breath, More than trails of touching in still air, Such a quiet smile, So pure in its questions moving closer to the heart, Polish the taste, For the song bird sings over the garden wall, The same word in faint whispers falls upon, A living alchemy belief, That woke in the crossroads, Filling the wind, With starlight, Floats the unchosen, That took too many chances, That’s what we had in common, When we lost each other, Dimensionless alchemy forgiveness the fugitive of healing impressions, Passes through the glass, Back to haunt the missing piece, Stoke the oven and oxidize the leftovers, Alchemy eyes, loose wheels on the sun, Touched in the vacuum, Wrap silken warmth around shiny surfaces, The first step in a world of the finest hairs, Floating through its own designs, Through the smallest pores, Babylonia freed to dream itself into smooth layers, Each closer to the call between, The exchange of flashes of falling stars, Each one making time, Giving it away to the hidden surface, In tiny wishes Alchemy beats, singing transitioning, forgiving the fixing, Red shift dimensionless hue subtrusion, Muse allusioning light spells of true undoing, Alchemy eyes chasing unchosen intrusions, Polish the taste, tease the fading blue collusion,

long moon light moment

I put them first, I let them speak, I slip into the safety zone, Where a fortune is calling, My deepest layers always at home, I let them leave their laughter, Their games, their dreams, Behind the big black door, In a big black box, Each suspended in its own secrets, Recycling moonlight in empty space, In thinner beliefs, The darkness speaks, A deeper heat, A leaking quotient, Desperate ontology, In the dawn of exposure, Orange flowers floating in an orange sky, Distance is not what it seems, A peaceful ladder, curls around the projector, Around and around, Each rung, bleeding edges, Turn the stain on the screen to steam, Rainbow clouds touch the apostrophe and screams turn the bones flat, In each space between the rungs, the night speaks, Saying “ you’ll find a way,” fingers feed the swinging seeds until their needs turn to rust and rest, Are caught rolling closer to the snake skin simplicity, Tongues drift out of the imprint, Taste the easter seal, the rain drops seeping from the song of implicit experience, All shapes are forgiven, By all the directions between, The buffalo heart in the dawn, Made the most beautiful deal, With diamonds in the treetops, With the softest breeze, Balance sleeping and supposing, To quiet spies holding spores in the open soil. But, for The tearing apart, When the blood flows, From the dark to the heart, Takes on a new form, And I stand still, When I can’t touch the killing floor under my feet, I ride and but I can’t float in the bubbles, When the music reaches into clear blue instinct, Some other knowing embraces the fears, hopes and dreams, And replaces the morning, Becomes host to a new day, In the language of endings, filling the air, And falls over the earth. Circles and circles that never betray,,,

and it was enough

Bird song, built on a million stars, The pain of longing in my chest, The ghost began to believe, In thin edges of blindness, And kiss the shadows, The burning lips say you can listen, To the petroglyphs perfect accents, Thief on fire, can’t sleep, Biting on the edges of beatitude, A sacrifice in numbers, The return to dust in a full moon field, Ever last informs the open dish, Vieve on Genevieve, Vis on vis, Vis on Genevis, Effigy reborn in the rain body, A face forms in the reflection of a million layers traces of thin promises, Strands pulling out of numb safety, Scratching on the wedding seal, Crashed down belief to the roots, To make better distortions, Out of being on the lamb, On the tongue of experience, For the bouquet, Of a clever hope, Pretending the reflection is the strange tide, Lies where love hides, Colliding in the capillaries, Dropped into the wheel zone, A stones throw from Betheseda, Breathing in the fetal coma, Motel can’t hold the night, Slow eyes, slipping little sensitivities into the stream of broken glass houses, Snails with hidden shells sorting fragile shorelines, Climbing St. Annie, A place we call the mothership, And meet the great borrowed time wheel, Give back all the washed up tones to her fishyard.

Threads to a million unseen scars A way into the molten core Of broken bonds Threads back to the edge of blindness Woven of darkness and fire, Threads through the cracks, Sacred threads the colors of India, Egypt, Subtle threads fade into a distant dream, Threads to the edge of a million miles, Threads to the edge of a book Built of a million suns, moving towards nakedness, The unseen edge, Threads of minarets, Reduced to a spinning molecule, Stung along with balloons, moons, and a tune, “do I have enough of the wind” Threads to standing up Threads to filling up, Threads to living up, In ones giving up, Threads from an ending, Threads from breath to breath, Threads from brokenness, Out of a story, Threads dreaming of the world, For the world, Threads to a green door of light and mist, That speak of principals, Threads slowly adrift like the melting poles, Older than the coming deluge, A time of the sky, Threads, a way into isolated fragments, broken bonds, Threads, a way out of the closed circuits.

Blood leaned on the radiation zone, made no sense of a warm glowing alimony alibi, antimony, Blood reached over the edge, In an elemental fault line, the blood carried back what no one thought could be carried, The sharpest piece, with the widest view, The second city dreaming, In water ways and fountains, And somewhere out at sea, There’s a serpent who knows, Turns anger into tears, He has a sealed hologram, Blood and breath crossed, Chemical duplication, And the blood slowed and turned to crystals of light, The only substance thick enough, To satisfy the lonely ghost, The day breaks’ melting point, Tasted like an insoluble system, Like a shadow, Echo to the time remainder, Ghost monkey, falling down, No protection on the wishbone, He learned he was actually missing, The lost guard and he laughed, One small transportation in a world of 5 billion breaths, Laughing with out reason, cosmopolitan filters, It was the era of mis representation, Slowing to the transfer analysis, No guarantee on the overdrive, Only blood touched the smallest most hidden molecules of perfection, Where I sleep between vision and and being dis shrouded, Learned on micro beans, Blood and breath building a fluorescent bio vent, The rock back half as far, I thought it was the evening star, Softening the effects of Easter and the un nameable,

Music from sound The man with the mosaic taste, With the mosaic under the face. Threads singing silent thunder with no trace, The touch to bear skin reflecting light messages, To call in supersonic inscriptions, In the universe of radio active tectonics, Intersensory telescoping, In enough trance strangeness for that much fear Caught behind the eyes without a disguise, In micro economics to spin faster, Spread seventeen shades, Into a single frame, Static to steam, A calm comes over the sea, The signal liquefied gas in my veins. Blending molarity in the air, The simplest bet, Sudden transmigration of elements into words, Fullness whispering, Pouring lightest Brush of electro magnetism, Conclusions of polarity Calmly just accept, The age of Tran’s migration burial, Flame dancing in caves in the wind Hauling bones with vibration, Where does the French man reside? On the desperate watch tower? No, he has blankets and numbers, Radiation stretched from belief, Super heated listening thief, Holding the door open for so long in the fun house, Triple Stage Bridge, Windows into oceans, The man by the exit, Holding tickets for no reason, The cohesion collapsed, In a silent dose, phantom heart, Breath pulls like an animalist, Odorous cantankerer, Opulent plethora, Who told me on the knoll, To turn the bell, The bodhi body, On the tarmac tundra, He fell into a whale, at the top of the ride, the start of this note, He didn’t ask anyone to wait, He saw crickets in early spring, Hyper oxidised super tramp transference channel, In the circuitry of love, Pull the stars across olds wounds, for a tiny breath, A secret place, Gently pouring under tow of ancients under the steps. Trying to delay, the ambush of being turned to dust,

301 When the orange thickness is upon me, Fragile red threads, tug and touch my heart. Tell stories of a single cell structure, Connecting fragile corrections, Bathed in blueprint blue, Sending twinges by chance out into the world, To play little games, They say travel broadens the mind, What do they say about distance and leverage? They all want to talk about the way I walk, in their desperate corkscrews, I dangle in despair, a strange ornament gasping, In a sea of toys in search of a quiet shore, To write our names in the sand, With letters that turn me into little pinholes, To feel the edge, lift the veil, To find one true companion, Where the silence becomes sensual, Where beingness shows up as sensation and the whole universe is my body,

300

300 Echoing by, the dust in my eye, The circle of wholeness, Appearing and disappearing, In my hands, in my hair, and in my heart, The circle of hopes and fears, I walk around this circle, Looking for where these ends meet, But I can’t keep it in sight, I stand, and sit, and pray, To see where the circle meets at one ness, The circle gathering silence and inner space together, The circle of inclusion, tolerance, love, To hold everything, the bond, The circle holds the man with three faces, One face is dead, shut down, Reflecting the frown in his heart, Trying to escape the pain of fear, One face is possibility, That of a child, Twirling in the sun, One face like a dream evaporating, Not knowing where to go, Just raindrops and ripples on a still pool, Circles and circles,

299

299 I did it for all of them, the ones that learned to turn themselves to stars And for the ones in the south, the starfields, I learned all the codes, and put them in a sulphur capsule, Took them to the frozen, The ice finally broke after years of watching with the eagle eye, Letting eyes slide into widening gaps, Something opening up on the edges, Climbing rope bridges, in robes to become the negative space inside, Little breath on wounds, Slow vapors Red glow, Sunrise on my brain, I need the reminders, To say goodbye, To the eyes of the night belly crawler, I need the finer variations, Cadence and timbre, The finer hairs on a woman, Reminding me to let go, The space of seeing more deeply Living with the elder law Dance on the airwaves, dizzy with hazy sunrises, Lazy dreams draw on the windows, I fell asleep in the nest with strangers and antennae, Stars form stars fall, Latent content, Heavy lament, The strange eyes, Under siege, The field behind the processor, The new consent, All the right colors, All the right origins and directions, That open up all the letters, Take apart the revenge, Hinges in deafening silence, Freedom in just breathing, I hear a little call, One fall said to another, The place of second sight, Secret chamber, Tumble in the marble factory, Take a clue from the second view,

298 Before this beginning, I never had a single longing. Now I don’t want to let go I live in a sulphur compound, In these citrus fields, I don’t know the time of day, My tongue drags out of a riff vent, Going to the dark river, At a thousand miles an hour, In early sun light, I don’t need a place to go, Razors edge, The edge bleeds, A rebirth in capacity, Another break down, In the weight of my tongue, Racing the same questions, Putting some distance, No more force, Make use of the chaos, Spring is just another empty field, Pale worry, Fantasy for extemporaneous conclusions, In a wish catch truth and trust, Blessings for the birds in the treetops, Mis-fed apples for Indonesia, I wanted their heritage, Refocus reform refrain for a faster friend, Making sense of the chaos, With jealous pants, Just ask painted don’t look at me, Portable and milestones of passerbys, A bride somewhere is bleeding to death, little sips of death to trail her, a sleep in a cocoon somewhere, blood turning her to time, the background blonde, a sufur vent in my head, a deep bleeding, bled back to the beginning, or the end, the woven structure alive itself, softening,

who gave it to you?

297 is it not our dreams that propose, to share a room? Throwing tea ceremonies over the shift box ghost, To match the gap, To make a game of life and death, Balanced on the best part of a banana peel, In a world where nothing can fly, The bitter and the bright, Just a matter of trust, And memory does the rest, Frame the host with a toast, A counter and a cusion, And so he listens to the clouds, And his eyes are soothed, Part covered in jasmine petals, I am on the inside, Where only a dream of me remains a trail to the window, Is it not my companions who remember me? As a chance to soften again? To stand still and take up drops of rain, But really, I’m a dust bug in warp drive, Glued to the opti meter, Pin in a pit cog, Mostly covered in sky, Inoculated, Raspy toothed, Bought buoyancy balancing alibis, Where only I escape the little space where nothing touches, Movement defined in bat defiance, The truth and the heart race against each other, Sorted by a rubber band, Touched by a huber hand, I told my self it never meant anything and cover the final fatal design, With sand and micro stitiches, teeth and turn, The thief will burn, Leaves over wedding grass, Keep to click, Morning moonrise, To keep in the slip, Fit the out with bob and trial, Best guesses we never make waiting any less wasteful, Clip and cloud, It’s all out now, Faded lines, missing pieces, Slip song, Pasted lies fall for the richer blessing of loss, Half weeping am I really seeing?

close

298 Before this beginning, I never had a single longing. Now I don’t want to miss a single longing I live in a sulphur compound, In these citrus fields, I don’t know the time of day, My tongue drags out of a riff vent, Going to the dark river, At a thousand miles an hour, In early sun light, I don’t need a place to go, Razors edge, The edge bleeds, A rebirth in capacity, Another break down, In the weight of my tongue, Racing the same questions, Putting some distance, No more force, Make use of the chaos, Spring is just another empty field, Pale worry, Fantasy for extemporaneous conclusions, In a wish catch truth and trust, Blessings for the birds in the treetops, Mis-fed apples for Indonesia, I wanted their heritage, Refocus reform refrain for a faster friend, Making sense of the chaos, With jealous pants, Just ask painted don’t look at me, Portable and milestones of passerbys, A bride somewhere is bleeding to death, little sips of death to trail her, a sleep in a cocoon somewhere, blood turning her to time, the background blonde, a sufur vent in my head, a deep bleeding, bled back to the beginning, or the end, the woven structure alive itself, softening,

the day begins

292 Long drum of the ear, Dim unproven Listens to frightened frantic wings, Slim provider, Linking fitting stations with cotton cages, Hoops and Hooplas, Subtle buried grouper tuber trying to catch hold of a new word with hope and hoorah, Spool of my heart, Losing letter by letter the cooling wires which run around and around, Tiny test tubes hold forgotten frequencies, From holes in my heart, Calling my name all night long, But I missed the shadow in the window and now she’s gone, I over reached for the light reflection under the screen, I thought ‘my little secret’, And couldn’t keep up with all the times she’d come and go, Crying hinge drying wedge in my throat, A thousand falling surfaces in search of a clue, A lost interchange made of blessings, Some moisture escaping the clothes loop, A thousand low grade fevers wait to be forgiven, But just too deep for the line of sympathy washed up at the bus stop, The wrong side faking it, The riddle in my soaking notes, Ripples in my eyes, Form a way out of my throat, Where is that lie? Only stillness knows, half loosening, half holding, all patience, Half unloading, half singing, half baked, all unbelieving, Where is that single digit? Paper pointer, I am the border, Barbed wire and fine lace, Where the wind touches the fulcrum in an open field, I am short words with long connections winding through the garden late at night, Prowling, passing, praying, Holding stronger and stronger rhythms and contours of birth, Peter past propylene, I was looking into his tears, All the time he was asleep, I was waiting, Gathering feathers into wings for the pink flamingo, We dreamed for each other, Back into the well, Put my finger on the slide, And spread the living film of my disintegration, Animated little traces of longer breaths, To calm softer hills with faint footprints, Where no one else can reach, To my loneliness, Little toes in the wasteland, Blending into the enclosure, Of my clear song that adds up to zero.

it was too close for me

296 In these monkey suits, we forget the monsters we are, So send in the lock smithd, to the basement, to The closed down mines, He will charm the snake, Make the sun heavy enough to live again, But don’t tell her she is only bait, A broken down solitude, Within in his cool moon epitaph, Bonding boarders with emptiness, I am a starfield of pulsing points of light, I am untouched vibrating space, Vapour dreams made of space dust, Teach the hollow to breathe again, And outreach the bottomless rainbow, In the touching of stillness, Join the seven seas with invisible ink, Improvise the missing link. Mythologize the hissing, half out of dropping sleep, Make good on both feet, Move the shell on blue fog over black ice, Wouldn’t lie in the wires and threads, toGrid fed to look me in the eyes, Blind spot reader tied to a loose end, Tight lipped tracer, Caught outside the curfew, Caught behind the searchlight, Itching in a negligee, Four corner nightingale, Wasted for a second time in the sunrise, I guessed them for a bunch of underage romp arounds, The eye of the desert, Held in the heart with both hands, Float the stone with an underground breath, Fold the whispering f law

long nights

295 Another haze hits the bay, Sends another day on its’ way, through the fray, too thick to say, When the crane, will come back again, For all I’ve felt and said, I wish I could get a grasp, Of the space with in my hand, Of the cradle and the sand, Find the source in total darkness, The game of bait survival in total blindness, Two to one odds in draught revival, A flame inside a cocoon, Hours drift around the room, Balloon dreaming too soon for a tune to come true, Touching sharp cornerstones and open spaces, Something inside the rotary gearbox slide rule shifter never gives into protection from the hope teaser, Ricochets out of the sidelines, Turn the outer boundaries of listening through sauntering moth processions, Reform the wishbone conclusion, my entire history stranded like a falling star, Every heartbeat another stanger, Every footstep further into emptiness, Seven stillness’s ring seven precious metal tones of pure reflection, Lips against the darkness, Keep to the outer walls, Split the heart into layers, To see how loss becomes a friend, Another stitch to mend the void, Steps to unlearn the floor, Suspend what I kept to match the perfect co-up end, Another message to end the etching mission, Super guide muse, Super glide news, True bride glue, All the shades of blue, Listening for the lost clue to the least opposite completion, Below bottomless bedrock bones, Seeping sepias in the crevices of my skull, Tracings seams of buried voices, Reefs of echo streams, Sonar graphics lines to a castaway dimming in the distance, Neural nets of guidance systems relay the negative space, The larger pitch, the longer eclipse, Comprehension through surrender, Each time I open my eyes, I’m hypnotized by a mirror sky, Lenticuli over cumuli, White cliffs and islands in blue skies and flight, only flight, The same wounded fantasies from both sides of the moon, Shadow senses neither I knew, Disguise each other more and more cleverly, Viewed from a dying star, Structures in the commerce of consciousness, Diluting fair game refuge into neediness, Uncover my voices, un-corner my self, Spread thinner transitions to catch the transistor distances, Computations in hidden microwaves, Make up the differences, Re-mask signal differentiations, What a parade of simulations, I’m another minaret in the formulation, Clean and swept on the sharper morning floor, Awaken the dying mirror, running through the cracks, Vagabond bones wandering moans, Obscure waves in tea leaves, Recalibrate the microscope, The walls grow thinner and thinner, Cracks converge meet the three worlds, Tapping code on each others brow, The pieces all resemble each other, To tend a deeper fire, Tune a deeper survival, Turn starlight on waves, Choke up the strato sensor’s on the telescope, To oxidize the floating embers, Disguises closer the shape of my heart, Resemble their dreamtime believers, Night callers in blind prayer, Moving into seed time, Ancestral artistry, Names of the winged night, Cooling my swollen heart, I absorbed the alien hinterland alive, Swallowed the whale symbol, I gave all my broken choices to the escape route, Too close to the open window, Got stuck in the revolving door, Broke my smile into havees and hve nots, My wishes into halves and half knots, The watchdog to vinegar, Put the capsule in the window, The shattered pistol in the sound barrier, Holding out and hanging on for oil in the mesage mechanism, Multi layered music box, Listen for soft worries, Downy soft hair furries, Line the cell where meanings fail words, words fail experiences, experiences fail sensations, sensations fail memories and there is no freedom from the finest filaments, Expose a few more layers to the rain, Reframe the fragmentation, Remnants hanging in a quieter drain, In the rubbish, A new battlefield emerges, With torches and spears, Eyes and veins spasm with fear caught in between, And one weariness said to its keeper, Thank you, For Stone walls worth their weight, Words worth their fate, Bones worth their space, Spoken well to be felt to know, no one wins a war, Questions that define boundarylessness fail at last, The background un charged who am I now, Story teller rain, and the little roadrunner wing, Try each others mementos, Rebuild each others lives from scratch, Came to the river, The silent wind that lives door to door, Mirror to mirror, A desperate need caught between A deep reach for the heavy hearted, Crossing the silence between, The missing link and the living ability to blink, Silk and jade, All my self doubt, Mixed into all the abstract worlds, A broken thumb, Caught in a bitter wind,

ok baby

294 Sun beam child, Sitting the beautiful morning expanse, Heartbeat soft and gentle as a morning breeze, Dancing on willows and wisterias’, An easy wish, Vibrating in wires to the underground nutrient matrix, Watching shadows lift into the sky and dissipate into the atmosphere, Morning flight, into the higher fortunes of knowing, Super sense child, Fusion to fission, The greater listening, Gentler conversation, Softer light, Christened with the greater system, Inner symbiosis Quiet trembling of first steps in a new direction, Morning body, Sitting in the belly of the whale The deeper well, Under the seventh wave Still renunciation that leaves no longing, No residual taxation The slowest words, Like tiny tears, Bubbles and balloons, My new friends, with costumes and colored lights, An opera flows like a blanket down through the ocean floors, A deeper current, Feeding the ocean tiny fingerprints, Heartbeats of distant memories, Sentiments made of sand, Doorways made of dust, Seeding the elastic vision of the crone, Dipping dripping midnight residues, Cloning the buffer zone, Toasting to the weight of endless enclosures, the buried receptor, In waves of folding cornerstones, I bleed out the rougher tones, To hold the ends of the dawn together, With holes in the rain,

back in the well

292 Long drum of the ear, Dim unproven Listens to frightened frantic wings, Slim provider, Linking fitting stations with cotton cages, Hoops and Hooplas, Subtle buried grouper tuber trying to catch hold of a new word with hope and hoorah, Spool of my heart, Losing letter by letter the cooling wires which run around and around, Tiny test tubes hold forgotten frequencies, From holes in my heart, Calling my name all night long, But I missed the shadow in the window and now she’s gone, I over reached for the light reflection under the screen, I thought ‘my little secret’, And couldn’t keep up with all the times she’d come and go, Crying hinge drying wedge in my throat, A thousand falling surfaces in search of a clue, A lost interchange made of blessings, Some moisture escaping the clothes loop, A thousand low grade fevers wait to be forgiven, But just too deep for the line of sympathy washed up at the bus stop, The wrong side faking it, The riddle in my soaking notes, Ripples in my eyes, Form a way out of my throat, Where is that lie? Only stillness knows, half loosening, half holding, all patience, Half unloading, half singing, half baked, all unbelieving, Where is that single digit? Paper pointer, I am the border, Barbed wire and fine lace, Where the wind touches the fulcrum in an open field, I am short words with long connections winding through the garden late at night, Prowling, passing, praying, Holding stronger and stronger rhythms and contours of birth, Peter past propylene, I was looking into his tears, All the time he was asleep, I was waiting, Gathering feathers into wings for the pink flamingo, We dreamed for each other, Back into the well, Put my finger on the slide, And spread the living film of my disintegration, Animated little traces of longer breaths, To calm softer hills with faint footprints, Where no one else can reach, To my loneliness, Little toes in the wasteland, Blending into the enclosure, Of my clear song that adds up to zero.

start here

273 Liquid sleep and saturation ink, With jasmine wings, Testing little exceptions to the sky, Pretend to take vacations on the other side of the nile, Taste motions of mummified implosions, Taking pictures of cheap motel signs, From singing ultra zoom lens frequencies, Parting sarong restorations from across another sea, A channel opens in the vacuum of change, A thousand clues swirling for an answer, Searching for the exposure of treasured glandular explosions, Lost in the obsession of a primordial completion, Caretusion carnusian, Another lavender intrusion, Pitch a wedge, finnegans wake, Matching illusions, Closing the loops into a coccon, With the other side of mirror of my third eye, Kissing the nights goodbye, Switching circuits under my numb tongue, Real enough to heal the fall before language and blessings, Reflections of waves of dancing singularities, On burning wires, falling into curing cubes, Crashing through the death storm, Of ice driven eyes, Gravity bodies that never think twice, Roll the dice and drool on the price, Keep one permutation outside the computation, But they don’t count the same numbers, No one adds up to zero, Save the wound to learn about anchors, Savor listening, Hold the missing, Absolute leverage, Desert the evidence, Until the jury retires the witness, And the ransom is returned to the executioner, She will get the message, Manage to turn away, Something imagined enters the world, In the darkest night, Sleight of hand of a child in the twilight, Bending all the right smiles, Loosen up the low road for miles, The needles claim my ancestry, Piercings and castrations, Camoflauge currents to remember the night, Stop the echo after I cross into the hypnogogic syncopies, And bite into a cold crimson sky, A real money maker, Aint no money no money god can’t buy, Such a good question put me to the test, And I found death only had one name, A weight on my eyes, giving me time and fucked up paper, A pat on the back and a frozen palace, Stranded at the gallows, the air grows thinner and thinner, I’m the last survivor of my own fall out. Claiming a deeper despair, For all my delinquencies, Links to the fermented performance when I got down on my knees and smiled, My Ethiopian rag dedicated to the random farm dancer, Serene as a funeral, Trembling clues blinded by pink stitches, Steps in the wind machine changing size, Turn the mirror to whistling wings, I asked for another quiet seductions, A sea in my eye, And the sandstorm wiped me clean, salty, and put me to sleep, Every escape route out lives its purpose, Dries up in my fingertips, Slips meaning just below the feedback of acceptance, Clipping in the static waves, Skipping perceptual contexts, A hand and a promise, Heard only at new moon sacrifices, Midnight rainbows of emptiness, Spokes without placement, Spacing washed in warm floating iris vapors, Altered deafness preservation dropout factories, Scales of things I could not face, In fires of different timings waiting for me to find fortunes fortitudes, Precious sublime boundaries of ribbons of breath, Make for the beginning of trust, Either a raindrop or a fabric of annihilation, I was ready and nothing happened.

rusty hinges

I wonder how far my edges show up for her after my old skin and eyes question how low and soft the loss stuck to the transparency wishes, Keep me hanging, my hands plugged into the interference static strung out on caffeine and Christmas, and I have to go subliminal and hope she’ll cum, I slip inside the headphones and guess about making up my mind, I got used to the lack of oxygen in here, telling the moon I will be back, while I burn the ozone and turn up the volume on the mirror and wonder why it is so silent, Something in me jumps, like a fish out of water, Trying to find a way out of here, The day melted through me with the reflected candlight, Delicately textured adaptations, Silently pouring a glass of wine, My hand slips inside of the wires To include our missing words, Unload lifetimes of piercings and tattoos, Another breath of /into our reality, My eyes into the lens, Ratify the reunification, stepping into the river, Slipping behind the current into other colors, Keep a safety clone talking in tune, Not to lose the last chance to be shot out of the word hello, fight with her tentacle eyed spot lighting, with all my habits of annihilation, get magnified and I lose perspective and fall in love,helplessly self absorbed sabotage, keep me away from the baying bijou laying and lounging, open the secret darkness to let in some fresh polarity, Sinking in the west the shrinking hope of a few followers. Living the crazy mazes of quiet disturbances, she was so advanced, sophisticated with hyper presence, I couldn’t follow the ashes anymore, I gave up wagons for steam and they told me to turn around, The candle light so textured in its reproduction Adopting so perfectly, To include the silences of perfect spirals ratify the renunciation of stepping back into the rivers, other shadows where even ghosts get lost, Black hole rhymes, yellow wrinkled afternoon, Watch the lines re arranging, little instances of definition, keep me away from the fresh answer, a test, Hanging allowances finger tip hunting, attempt to see how far I will go to get short circuited over the kitchen fence, caught up in a numb tongue and fat head, no connectivity in the dark, with that described taste, And believing all structures can be contacted, Out flashed by my tombstones challenges, a little further from gravity, out grown by memory, middle catastrophy unidentified run till the signs read back and forth reversible reasons and all the stories to have their own true aim, over the hills towards nothingness, multidentified press the ends together in line up in the bones Cover personal pain with a Fractured smile from a stranger insert and burn, make a rare re construction of a circle, and tell them I’ll be back soon, layers of light and shadow, make up languages to explain time, and find a sense of humor, practiced hard at the edge of the inclusion, honey follow arpegio, sell the rain, sharper sugar bait, deepest touch, caught between the rain and snow, no one told me where to go, it was so slow nothing to forget or remember, the same taste in the ceiling as the root, playing hide and seek with a good messenger, still and quiet but not empty, she had perfect acceptance, perfect failures, I was washed out to sea as a young child, And never questioned safety, Forgotten dangerously, And in one late afternoon disappearance, The insidious return, The current spoke with his limits, In her voice he pretended in the windows, And placed interpretation, And made the sign, He drifted blind, Captured the universe and left her nothing. Behind his eyes he didn’t need to pretend to be oil, In the body of still protection, Floating upstream, Towards the shooting star, The true dwelling place of the three domains, Liberations commencement, The last and only body, For consecration, Of porcelain fingers and tongues, The most selective, The most familiar, The most discerning, The most effortless moon hole in the fabric of suspended absorption, Candle light comes through the quiet haze, Soft, secret and homeless, Free but no pride, it makes it own, Breathing sun echo filtering baby goose down, Leave my heart beating on the horizon, membranes of vibration, Wings, leaves, fingers’ skins of atmosphere’s of testimony, Lazy fear a memory or mystery of close encounters, Her eyes match the shadows, My internal proteus asking permission, multiplying all the surfaces of anti matter, Asking, what are the chances, she would just hold them? and they could be hers completely, dimensionless to follow to the end, What are the chances, that I would be ready? To be exposed to an ultra violet scope, Zero gravity, my breath acclimates, A moment to inhabit the perfect sequence of oxygen fields, A cherry stain on satin lips, A day I forever miss, Set the balloons down on the ground and cover them with broken glass, Deep in the amazon Sunday afternoon haze, Sand bag millionaire, Desperate drum factories, Hold off the obvious, A second wind for a friend, In every equation an emergency, A heartbeat and a mirror, A shrine of cohabitation, And anticipation, We walked in the sand together one mid afternoon, Kites in the distance, sails in the wind, My lost impreza, Holding up a numb fortune, We flowed and drifted apart, In was the last indestructible speed hacked trying to make a stand against the inevitable pinhole elaboration, decadent abstrusion, A rain began and the air was so soft and thick, I wish something I would say could be absorped as easily, But we would hold each other in rings of fire, the quiet too much to be untouched, with our splashes drawn on each other, moved to more, No current let the breath sink alone, cover every broken tear, The barely breathing that memorizes how to catch up to the quieter moon, And they would know each other by the sticky side left behind, Brief encounters with humanity, Night darkened let go of itself, Count the drops of mercury so perfectly they disappear, Divided so safely never a trace ( of nava holds all attempts of get a new perspective, ) Tiny lapping of little hopes quietly touching the shore of my heart, Echoes to echoes tiny traces of what I believe about time, My home to figure out where they come from, Estranged wondering, I couldn’t guess or get close enough To the liquid reactions, extractions and sacrifices for each others safety, Waiting at the edge of evenness keep it crystaling in a cool fire, Sensitized, hypnotized, Claim each others architecture, When they can stand their own fear, Liquid, solid and gas, give each other little clues to the totality blinded by each others eye, Claiming a deeper despair, for all my desperate delinquent antidotes instead of hope, My happy face in the parade of fermented interference, Inter placement porcupine performances, Camoflauge for each other, Tiny needles claim my ancestry for castration, Piercing passages led by the only name we had in common, death, Gives me time if we can be each others secret, The weight in my eyes, I am the edge of a great sea, And a spiky tincture, Trying to find the celephane topper, And a uranium mine, The yellow light proposes a problem of impassability, So evenly distributed of heaven, Station house sleepwalker, gone to Rhodesia, Pull a pen from the pill box, Elephantitis gateway, Cleaning the getaway, Its always in my bends, So thin over a long day begins, The beguine, Biting on a numb chord, he was led down the hall,

i told you so

270 Bones cry a river of fragrances Soaking speaking of the bottomless river Vapour conclusions coincide, I thought it was the end, I begin to perspire golden hues of light, Bones falling through plutos atmosphere, Tunnel currents, fragile to the touch, My life lost in eddies and whirlpools, On the edges of money, Wondering which way is home, Pools of drifting pearls’, Pulses and silences, 10 million years of coping mechanisms, Shaving little threads into ends, This human life is an eternity, Without beginning or end, For we go out as we came in, And as we also live with a taste of that and added to the already unbounded awareness of knowing itself. 10 milllione years of seeing and breathing paper thin mysteries, A garden of 10 million tiny cells in a high fever sunrise, Drums buried in overgrown vines, Trembling eyes hold last nights star fields, spent in spinning towers, The rebirth of new passageways in a deeper pocket of hope, Seeping statues share vapour shadows, Singing and signing waves of perfect persuasions, Stunning salutations to the battle of evermore, Fault lines in perfect balance, babbling 10 million doorways, Draining the after images through morning skin, Layers of compressed escape fortitudes, Just a ringing for an atmosphere, Whales and birds in the mirage, Succulent smooth silk sapphire across the breath of life, Where they have no names 10 million souls inherit freedom of paper thin melodies, The meaning is neither here nor there and a new country is re-born, With loose windows deep inside the deluge of colored computations, We would make into a promise that could not be forsaken or foreshadowed, Pressures of exchange form the new singularity, In 10 million deep folds and pores of reptile skin and cat fur, Tongues that dream of love and the six directions, Breathing through the fire of perfect untouchableness, Calculating safety by silent approaches, And a rain began inside the vessel of tattoos and piercings, Fed the unbroken and I became space and time, The edge of reflection, Speeding endless signals of silence greater than any depth, And who can out truth the end and keep their season and the other in the tide, Memories the proof for justification, an eclipse of fingertips that never lie, 10 million fields under a full moon, Their retro hook ups untold, out moded with a constant reminder she is out of reach, But cradles 10 million species in universal kinship, The flower of love, Heat in the chest the spreading of wings, break the speed of sound, And for 10 million eons the tadpole wept a different tear for each sea, In a fragile tunnel of shaved ends dancing for the propagation of unbounded clockwork knowing, In love with undertows and eddies beyond sapphire and delight, And as we taste and teach and tease take wordlessly, Call it history, dear blessed conspiracy, Birthed 10 million days, Uncovering undetermined mirrors uncertain, Turning some power against itself and no way to conceal it, My Kentucky blues, Turn my baker on, 10 million horizons, Stamps, seals, confessions, And a whirly bird. Doin’ it all at once, A cosmos comprised of a small childs grasping hands, Lonely allowances, Spinning pheromone glances, Each one blurry and burning, and broken, Mary in the periphery, Many bouencies, Face to face feeding fierceness, Burning in fevers, sunspots, and sublime interceptions, Counting orbits in cubits, Charge everything with gravitational corresponses, Polar shifts on midnight patrols, Gasping breath, galloping legs, groundless eyes, curious ears, constant taste, In other states, each others place, Only the crazyness comes through and any man is dangerous without hope, In the evening shade, One lends deeper, Substitute in the aquarium, Because a pinball robot ghost, Files of free calls covered in redefining the frozen rabbit hole of heavy memories, Their rise and fall and journey across the absolute indigo carrying an empty sky, During solar eclipses, micro celled translations take 10 million moments, transistors carrying their own abyss, and they kiss for an instant, for a taste of hope, of awakening in the onely true resting place, to match eternities silence,and cry tears of belonging to myself, informing myself of space and places beyond, throughout all biological history, biodynamic infusions safe landing places touching still ness to match the insect eyed watching the final sacrifice, signs of cleaving meanings and nodes new signals, the division bell breaks the speed of sound, breathing wings and eel underground cities, Cradle 10 million species on the head of a pin, nothing to explain, asked and received, The new shoreline of heat in the chest, worlds with out end, each a mystery of propagation into universal kinship, where something is missing, the tadpole notices the joke, where’s a mask, a sea and a retro hook up bleeder, then tattoos and piercings to prove I had once knelt down and wept for the lie until that final revelation of letting go, fingertips free inside the walls, burning threads out modeing a constant reminder, nothing can out truth the end, so I began to measure my approaches to feed the un awoken, infections of mixed signals, and a game begins, reveal the edge in space-time, and let by gones be by gones, a ran began from a sky of rolling long shades of giant waves, soaking the fragile lens vessel, which began to breathe through a ring of fire of perfect un touchedness, and calculate out far enough to feel safe from cameras, 10 million eons worth of kisses I take full ownership of, standing perfectly still to navigate by the light receptor stars at the bottom of my heart, Pressure of the next singularity, watching, leave behind, the six directions, swimming airlessly, in paper thin melodies, where I left my eyes to meet you, spent and turning, flashing mirror tower stairs spiral into forgetting the pain, no forshadowing, places I didn’t care about, but want them anyway, asked the to give me something stronger that I could carry and not worry about the pain, but the connection could not be forsaken, a collection of foreign words we would make into a promise, take the loose wheels and pretend to let them free all together, deep inside the deluge, where deception and deliverance could dream in colored computations, where 10 million souls could have names, taking psychedelic pens to neurologic pictures, patchwork, puzzle miles, naked olives over ripened, forgetting the meaning, neither here nor there, just a ringing for the atmosphere, entering the singularity from 10 million seas of truth, 10 million shorelines exchanging whales and birds over reaches of infinite potential, the same marriage and misfortunes, a fault line excavating falling, shaking, succulent, smooth as silk, singing morning skin layers around ducts locating the still point between change and escape, one continuous body of unpronounceable fortitude, 10 million females draining after images of their compression doorways for hide and seek faster then records of where I was born, The garden of high fevers, over grown vines bloom before spring, hold last nights star fields collisions, buried drums all winter long, Epilogue; The first star floated down from the navy sky and into my room, my eyes turned to twilight grey, without defining the even ness of depth, testing the pools, and the star became my friend, and I wondered if it may be my mother or father, and I an astromoner, Playing spy games that I might take a journey to some distant place behind the seasons, days in deep springs instead of hours, run out of kisses, beliefs and leavings, being hidden from something in a low line spilling wild sex spilling fires that heal me, quietly, power changing hands, accepting more deeply the wounds, isolation in the mud, where only my eyes exist,

don't stare

Back from the arroyo Sounds through the door, Felt the floor, Open the floor, There was more to the moon light then the road could allow Open the shade Sky so wide to know the road, Eyes pulled across Try to keep a melody With the sea, Wild beast at my window, In elegant gowns of the dawn (it a reflection of my loneliness) Inability to reach out) Dreaming of a way, Fractured figment To get home Blank eyes reaching for Broken ambitions Slaughtered in the streets, By laughing hands, Hold back the rain Leave a place with in a place, Learn to sing portal skipping stones in the shadows of hope talking book holds the interface a giant feast in the window waiting for me to trust the image recognize the raise a toast to the acceleration of endless co habitation, hold the fertile serpentine sepulchre, borders soften reveal a deeper hue touch the thinner brine long dream bold faced contortionist trouble over the wind, pushing the under flow

still waiting

A silver bell in the sky, with long flowing robes, that reach all through you, to have a secret knowledge of you, Where you are released from being known, The quietest orientation, empty holding, wordless comprehension, Dissolves the softest colors in the longest day, A bride off shore, made an angle to dream, of angels of refraction, Drowning my names, Like sunken ghost ships, In the shadows of the moon, A twilight kiss, Edges of the egg thinning, The beginning and ending, Of itchy veins, In a seven star soda pool, Plus seven sugar generations, Thicken pages of purple circulation, To hear the ocean sing, To find the rest of the sky, Letters In the underground, Watch my slippery eyes, like deep dark drunken pools, With shaded deciphering my deepest longing Where sunlight slows into dust, To try new aspirations, Climbing down the dim hall of my song, To meet a minstrel to transfer the gift, Up root the destination of appearances, Before the retro fit consolations, Relieve the cost of winter’s empty jar with a doll kite queen, My flat spot matches up perfectly, The corners find a quiet place to lean, Sliding in and out of phase, the quotient tide, Whispers myself back to the red trial, With gods of fear and pleasure, Pushed into particles without seams, And wait for me to write the answer to the dream, Forged over centuries of oculation, The deep seething slingshot, That never wanted to play games of isolation, Learns distance equals the rest of the moment,

please

Morning bitters, re-calibrating loss, the after taste of faint images, dreams caught in my veins, Complex haze of filtering layers, part of me submerged, part looking to the open sky, Part microcosm, part macrocosm, part timeless, part of time, Interwoven, To reveal all the rough, tight, holdings and entrapments clearly, When eyes turn to a softer light, To carry places that won’t let go, with larger space, clearer knowledge, To unlock the programs and ticking of tracking mechanisms hidden in a deeply recessed corner that is overlooked, Where a great war wages in a great fire, Protect my eyes; guide them with Your light, into Your sky, A place to turn around, Into your fields of glory and benevolent sun, Where all come to awaken, discovering at last how to renounce ego drives, where edges do not cling, The eye finally closes completely on itself, And begins to return home to the ocean of tears, Endless waves of silent night, eternal ways of starry crossings, Only fingertips show the way Touching the veil, unknowingly, The poem offers my self, opens deep distilled moments of equinoxes and solstices, and in between them, the interpretation of change, Rooms within rooms, like after images in twilight, drifting about, To a new home, with deeper set windows of finer transparencies, take me to that last infinitesimal distance, help me cross over to Your domain, not a location, but a dwelling place of such subtlety, that only pure and free desires exist there. Nothing can invade there, You are the only thing that holds me, I know a comfort from my bones to my skin, Put my heart in Your sky, lift me with candlelight, and play me with Your songs of freedom, And when I fall, let me fall with Your rain, with Your softness, back to simple knowing of my own truth, that I can accept at last with grace.

i heard her sleeping

Buoyancy balancing On a deserted empty shoreline, I live with a ghost she’s opening windows and doors, finger flinching she thinks she knows a lot about this world, in her cool jewelled island over believed and over betrayed, Karma devotion, She shows me the colors of the ocean, Hungrier than that serpent dares, She’s made of thinner layers, Ambrosia soul, Turned out to far corners, Soaked around the edge, In the light house candle, How am I receiving my self? Super colliders in outer space, Re running little days, Companions for emptiness, Quiet glow half submerged the night water brings them closer, Such a gentle touch, quiet and truthful, Always a shade deeper shadow in the winter, Silk kimono eyes, Little vacuums of knowing, Wants to touch the silhouette in the stratosphere, 70,000 feet seven engines purring Burning in the radioactive red shift The synchro barrier of beginnings of vapour refraction Bestowing and destroying little identities, Reaching past the memory, The damage was complete, Nothing blank enough to fill the gap, In the middle of the night, Where all tears are cried, And I could sleep, Break down of the beats directly on the brain, Borrowed time I’m just trying to give back, Little sips of dragons breath, don’t make up for quieter distances on the penny arcade, There was no escape, no matter how hard I look, The shrinking past, on the end of a hook, Royal rose standing in the fall out, Under an orange sky, Oil spread and washed the stranger clean,