never alone

Not my eyes at midnight
And all I might have seen
I would never admit it anyway
Wasn’t me in the moonlight
Wasn’t me must’ve moved on

Wasn’t me stuck in the stone
Must’ve been some other season
Wasn’t me the song the melody

No I wouldn’t fit
Couldn’t stay

I wished instead of bet
A kiss on the edge of the ant machine

It’s not my eyes I see out of
Spot on the wall
Tumble weed in the window
Touch and go
Like a dead cow
I had a little doubt

Bone on bone
There’s so much I need to say
Of the tenderness that takes me away
As the undertaker comes home to stay

Bone on bone
As if I weren’t born with enough closeness

Bone on bone
after her floods come and gone

bone on bone all through the depot
bubbles fortold

eyes were only for clues
for the unhewn origin of days that become weeks
that become years
and an unrelenting approach of seeing
and becoming thinner and thinner
until only skin looks back
what was there?
The greater the objectivity the greater the subjectivity
Free
Was it these tears
Was it because of this
What was it really
Should we call it pain
Anger
Fear
Did they intrude other wholenesses?
I spread so thin
I mistake myself for emptiness

threading strange shapes through the needles eye
the distance between each word
distance of a dream
my eyes to dark
my face too far
my smile to fragile for all the chaos
and after all I already said the needles eye has no test for directions
only still I pull on the emptiness for reverberation
for the quietude of deaths bittersweet dance
there I thought I captured the trance
I was turning but couldn’t guess
who was it that said
I tied them together
that stain never dries
and you can’t wash it off
worse than tattoos you never even knew
I wondered if they touched the inverted edge
where the green light reveals its blue and yellow origins
and a little blackness to turn around the inside
and a little emptiness to open up the door
to ease some moments from the other side
treat the jumping lizard to a trapeze
did I say I want crazy things
a flower without a seed
I want breaths to take me away
I want violets that steal time
I want a thousand tastes in the fire
I don’t want to stay there so long
I want to bring my plague into focus

the underbelly always rings in my ear
I feel disturbed but it’s so clear
I’m shaken but not sure
where the blood comes from
how did it get into my hands
was I buried somewhere in the bypass
somewhere between the poles
somewhere an ocean

they never told me I was over budget
and wouldn’t hold up long in the spotlight
my signature got crazier every night
I began to give all the stars away
and hope my finger tips would pull me through
help me dig out of the wash out
back flush that last route
and wonder once again
what was it between that line

You have to love me now,
I looked all the twisted snakes of my confusion in the eye,
into all the loneliness they all tried to hide,
I put all my mistakes in a pile,
and made a funeral pyre,
and as they burned they told each stories of trust,

You have to love me now,
I took the last train to the end of every night,
and the end of the last highway left together with a handful of hope,
and when no one was looking, I made a wish

You have to love me now.
The war ‘aint what it used to be,
and I wonder how I got here,
I need you to remind you where I am,
and sort the missing from the found,

You have to love me now
I heard you singing over the wall,
and had dream that someday I would awaken,

and just in case any more tears come,
I need you to be there with the shaking loneliness,

and when I close my eyes,
and the other side slips though the faint twilight of bare heart tongueness,
I need you to understand that slipknot,
before all those moments become another force in the lost cause,
and just in case everything I caught takes over again,
I need you to love me now,

for baby

Was it me set up on the border?
When she gave me a sign of a place to surrender,
I memorized every time we sang together,
And just out of delight I asked her again,
She just looked out of the corner of her eye and turned the hourglass over again,

Covered my fingers in little turning strings,
All over the edge of vibrating rainbows,
I just can’t reach,
The rain is too steady, and range is so heady,
And the curry land carries every lazy hand into the sand and I take a chance,
I just say yes and taste the sand every millameter between your hands and what I touch is rememorable and what I lack is made up for by fluidity and out of considerably too fast by the time I reach past and just drift on at last those same milliseconds stretch the light waves over my eyes and I put them back in the shining core,

And if the sky wont hold your hand
Two faced pumpkin land
Glass paper tops
High collar super hops

I;m just a backwards fired dropout,
Blast risk and intrepid vertical,
Stove back yards and Rachel oil painting,
Where else would I go,
The river says its pure,
No walls and micron sensitized,
Lean on this flower pot potentiazed,
Copy cat on a pink cloud pickled in portablilty of portait analysis,
Unfinished untraded, don’t make sense,

Police siren little chance,
Lone ranger long stranger,
Drowns in squares and diagrams,
I never cried my eyes just fried in the lava core,

Alien eyes I’m never ready signal connectivity down shades in shadow stillness,
I never felt so alone,
When I first fell and slept and didn’t recognize the house doors push and now just pretend lengthen each synapse catch clear elder perception even a stranger could find her authenticity after a few degrees and every fucking mechanism,

Here comes my sister she told me,
I heard her ask and I’ll be right back,
Which part do you thinks gonna come out right
Lets start out straight she calls from behind the freight train,
Cause slip and wash out

They melted in contact,
That’s all there was to it,
Riding the ether vein,

Too touching to tell,
I’m in hard turns with a handful of thorns,
Tungsten and rayon,
Safe enough for the morning light,

I’m the king
In the porcupine of the places there is no touch,
Places we’re told how much to hold,

All I ever wanted to know,
Pineapple basement
Basket ball basis
Bare bulb fantasy bliss,
Two legged garden mist,

split like fish
can’t fire his pistol,
did I mention how the ache got set in motion,
and they no longer correct,
the roads look very appealing,
as safe as my last tear,

as close as I could get,
empty cross roads,
last rights to my
hidden with messages sealed in deep space
with their own histories,
cause I worshipped the beginning with a dvd disk,
and a perfect number cruncher,
set up on the border,
a train beckons,
it’s the sisters around me,
far from the brakes,
touches with no restraint,
no one would tell,
circus’ and cracks,
who said I’ll be back,
but I heard her ask,
one touch was enough,
and all the reasons I could think of,
on the reishi tide
tungsten and rayon,
electric sides have no language anymore,
universal capitol at the bottom of a well,
no run a longs to lift my sticky feet,
echoes in the heat,
a sleepy, silky, slippery,
no where left alone,
no one with direction,
temple halo collapsing,
and must dis joint the cornerstone,
both feet on the telephone wire,
the only thing standing was a pillar of salt,
betrothed to the fourth quarter,
shift in the watcher,
to look the other way from the bleeding rosary,
grew up in flickering flashes,
every time the levy broke,
over flowing blue blood,
sorting the resources under the peace tank,
king of the underground,
ease and purpose,
freewill and dispose,
the downhill run of when the told me there was no cage or even capsule,
and now can’t find the transit back,
dressed again fast enough,
shifting credits to the early morning,
one road at a time,
and the tiredness knows itself so well,
and is not alone,
found someone safe enough,
a fathom in the wish factory,

ahhh

Michaels river boats’ a sliver in the sky,
Keeps his answers in the tide,
A room for a shiver in the spine

Sample of a ride and a new mood for a day,
Take your deepest fears and just say hi,
Johnny’s’ got a june bug for a one on one cry,
Innocent gauges on the edge can’t figure any place to hide.
Just a place to rest but freedom is not a rope in cherry cream seas’,

Light strikes again the dream fabric,
Impulse and volition drown each other with a water fall of feathers,
Pile up in church bells and seep out with the sound,
The deep swell reaches the circus town and lies down with the moon daughters heat waves at dawn,
So many indigenous images that just got to be,
Dew drops and the oxygen blossom,
Just enough for the clue bubble to trust its’ brothers and sisters crawling and carrying their webs into my eardrum,
Always a mad hatter in the back seat,

Genies’ just missing the wind,
Just shooting tentacles to take the test,
Another chance to play in the coliseum,
Numbers make their case for silence in the waiting room,
Just for the multi slide projection curation,
Zap Blam

Magnetos on a solar flare,
Free form fire crackers in daisy flight,
Lighter than the coins that tumble through the gyroscopes in the ceiling,
Dots and dashes, quick rise evarusnic tells me again,
Referee in the background fuzz pendulum,
Little catchetonia, two fingered skinny charter,
I need something heavier to satisfy me,
Boil me up to shaking in the silent bell,
Past the principle particle precipitants,

Magnolias bloom in a twilight breeze,
Another brain storm let loose from tiny strands of remembering my glasses,
Mobile mini launch pad sneezes,
Stirs loose my history,
Golden honey through the window tinges my skin and dried leaves,
In between my breath breaks down the beats of congeniality,
There’s always a criminal behind the bars of my dreams,

And it’s straight up for the sunrise,
Little white diamonds in the spreading yellow light,
Colour little wings of dancing rapture,
Trim wycinanki and kirigami,
Playful overlords,
Can’t hide the heat,
Got to find their own pilgrimage now,
Reach into the missing words, and imagine where they are now,
Sweep out the clock towers and earth worm fighter jets side banks,
Tap Vamp
There’s always another fissure with a place to breathe,

I just drift in the uptown shivers, in my cloak of broken withers,
Can I come any closer to the clothes spin?
Roller balls and falsetto oil,
6 am I can’t stand up in the merry go round,
She’s got the freeway lines in her eyes again,
I took in more than my share already,
Told her it was just a quiver from the stare,
Frontal lobe contusions and cross hairs,
Got to be their own breath now,
Got to colour up and down,
Brought all the way across the night just to ask what we should say to each other now,
Bought to hear the fraction less denomination come through my knees,
Slow moss and dust storms on a rolling stone,
There’s always a beast of burden waiting for me to sleep,

I got to think on my feet,
Sundays blue rays,
Rap to the sweet things going down to the world beat,
Gold bars for hungry lips,
A long lost ghost finally asks if I’d like to dim,
Like the frosty fringe on an October gate,
Map Rap
There’s always someone waiting in a place I’ve never been,

I was going to leave it for a super cringe,
I was going to clean up the sugar binge,
The ultimate performance,
But I just gave in to the oculator,
I didn’t know I would end up a perma slip,
The smell, the taste, crystallized pickled porcine photographs,
I got the ends to dance, twist off and a place where we could all see each others hidden history,
Put on a slant and go see the show of hats,
Shower up in the French quarter,
Ball room romance and a chance to lose my beliefs,
Draw little lazy sand circles in the sand with my non dominant resistance,
Fab Hat
There’s always a third beat in the space between,

The story in her eyes forgave my fear,
Just for a moment of familiarity,
Just for a moment of sharing my loose change with sweet desserts,
Just this side of nothing,
I wanted to put it in a simple awakening,
But there was just water and I didn’t know the sewing machine was running the whole time,
Back and forth weaving my pale morning eyes with her horses mane,
Reading my future in terms of dream melodies,
Gershwin and Beckett,
We dance off the black leather,
After the sunglasses and martinis under fancy coloured lanterns,
We believer we’re in Indonesia,
And that its’ a simple time and place,
Washing little stains and deciding which trail we should take to the oasis,
Watching little children play at escaping from a paper train,
I just stay for another load of bait,
It’s sweet and bitter and spills all over the screen,
Another coating of free floating demi glaze,
Foam from a saturninc quatrain,
Trigger the lights and hungry bites,
Release the sacred fire and foretell all my plights,
More dreams that live inside one another,
Drawn, powdered and purified,
Over cammed.

brother

the crucible screams,
some sudden injustice, some unwarned returned untuned incidence behind the story of hopelessness, the resistance to pain and apathy,
I smiled, waiting,
I knew this day would come, but didn’t believe it,
only that to get here there are no roads,
and here words have no meaning
and eyes do not see
it was only a dream
it was exactly as it seemed
a couple of odd chances washed up on the shore of no return,

but curtains they don’t sleep
and what do they mean
everyone knows within knows the ghost
but for memories all hid differently
we all had the same reasons

and ask is the rain sad
does it tatoo itself to remind itself of the night
does it wait patiently and get tired of us eventually

with all our now emptyness and the endings left unsaid
silence and sympathy
risky enough
to hold hands
close enough to know the difference
just a couple of secrets washed up on the shore of immediacy of equality

she sleepwalks double zeros to get back home again
but can’t open the door
she doesn’t need those cherry blossoms anymore
just a couple of quiet wishes washed up on the shore of her insistence

no one notices them there in their loneliness
their time of usefulness is over,
so they try to hold back the tide without knowing
they’ll hold out for anything
for they can not lie
they have only their insides
and if I heard it once I’d listen a thousand times
a couple of distances washed up on the shore of never never

take the dream out
live each others you
I thought it would at least let me know
but that was not its beauty
it did not begin with that

I wonder
did it carry
or did it bend around

I thought I was the only pretender
who multiplied to see what it was made of

always ended up
sold at auction to the lowest bidder
for an unscratchable fantasy
non locality arrives like the matrix and just in time

but I wouldn’t look into the mirror
because
I could never be forgiven
never thought I’d be dependant
for I alone could only promise and still believe

bitter

listening to the seven oceans,
no easy way out its worse than bein’ blind,
fractures and limits don’t show out on the street,
musty seeds spitting and stabbing like a ghost scratching at the door,
couldn’t cauterize the sensitive eye who wouldn’t meet the wrinklefish
who drowned in all the laughter of the dirt floor insomniac,
in tiny horses flying through eastern and dawn and listening to sacred whispers,
listening with the unthinkable patience, listening to the unsewn unhewn unused,
to keep up with the sun, to find the sum,
and be crippled in the moonlight,
to be sorted out by the double cross,
betrayed by every touch,
chasing after little threads,
and the anti-believer,
frayed further and further
hanging unknown,
thirsty intrutsions,
turn single digit vacuum insight,

within distance deconstruction models,
within perception melt down,
head sticking out of the sand,
every appearance,
who did they give a name to,
who did they give all the rights to,
who did they give,
who did they give,
where is the endless scent now,
where is the bottomlessness now,
where is the bodies declaration,
where is the dedication connection,
little beast
picking up and dropping little fires,
little stars,
school of fishes in the roadside show,
hydra fluent,
reborn in pheonix fire,
little waves,
tip the scales of my galvanized apologies,
guaranteed to freak,
and always need the hot clone witch,
to tell me where to gamble the twist, to repair the itch,

but who did they blame,
And who did they save,
where is your endless scent now,
where is your bottomlessness now,
where is your body declaration now,
where is your dedication connection,
I want your edible subtleties,
I want your instant doorways,
instant decoding and instant retold,
bandito portal
half eye eater,
ball and chain,
bombadeer sharpshooter,
I want the warmth drifter,

to chez

re named, un named

everything left untamed gathers in the rain
gathers where my pure wanting, meets the fresh oxygen
combustion rhythmic tongue, dancing in the drifting taste,
speak the drinking of sound,

Lips touch the pool of empty sorrow boats,
pass breath by breath by waiting, by perfection in their completion kiss,

Lips touch the smoothness of poor and hungry ghosts,
ceaseless circles, relentless intuition,

Lips touch and are cleansed whole again,
regain themselves, for once, to once, in once,
to be a dream,

Lips touch floating and are drenched,
forget each other in silence, of silence, with silence,
spinning ripples smile,


Love hushed my crushed longing,
the cris crossed dust covered history of misplaced belonging,
Love touched and unraveled what had entwined and tightened to stone,
soft tones brushed and combed the knotted surface of forgotten tombs,
give enough to fill the breath completely with sound, and resonance takes over the empty spaces,
Fire on the horizon lights up a thin line around the edge of a super fine filter,

Frozen, unfrozen
The flash of a childs eyes, slips through in floating innocence,
at play in the archives of the sublime, the hidden design between foresight and premonition,
in the face of that one I do not have to pretend I have something I do not,
or hide something I am only afraid to reveal to myself,
that everyone can see,
because of that one truth I am free, and begin to move more or less generally in that direction,
with those others appearing from time to time as they do,
in images and permutations, finding their way through similar eddies and vortices by all various means, luck, trial and error, inner knowing, magnetics, magic, ceremony, dance, art, music and that occasional genuine divine guidance,
sometimes we lose our sight and must learn new ways of navigation and direction,
These are sometimes the greatest gifts of all.

Sampled, unsampled,
Lips touch again, a little pressure that holds a reservoir in a trickle,
in a tickle, in a fickle kind of sense

Touched, untouched,
love sealed every gate, no place for misplaced uptake retakes, so they say,
no room for half knots, half hearts,
all that remains is the quiet lips in a distant windstorm.
Intricate delicate crevices
crisp forgiveness, no waiting no warning no wishing
lips fall around the star spider whispers,
empty purse of brilliant silk, blowing through a powdery breeze, seams stitched by star dust,
hiding things I never had, what can save me from them now?
covered, uncovered, lips touch a road underground,
cross current of seasons in the mystery mirror,
night revolves around the day,
partial glimpse of destiny worshiped alone,
infectious rapture, full eclipse, I dove into the abyss so many times,
but I am still no match for that vastness,

so I heard

Fire dragons in a freak show,
Open my heart,
Singing of the coming age,
Crowded up in a southern drawl,
Messages swinging through,
In dinosaur ratios,
A haunted place of dislocated footprints on single file tiles,

She falls in a puddle of game articulations,
Messages singing to make up a trick point,
Triple intersections,
Full swing purple overload,
I never saw the dust before,
Sweat and angels in the air,
Messy as my first breath,

I give up and look at my broken cup,
All the things I tried to hide,
Were stolen and I thought I could walk right through the lie detectors,
The echo of their messages passed into the frozen lake,

I tried to capture an imaginary friend,
Got a couple chances to sell out the sparkle in the morning sky,
Scattered all over sleeping widows,
Only touched in a dream state,

We all have the same measurements,
The same hand tied behind our backs,
Sort the dripping pieces,
Shifting purple loads to setting the record straight,
Flush it clean,

Uptown elevator bubbles,
Freight train shelter in the night,
Testimonies in a slide show,
Messages with pinhole cameras and loaded guns,
Wavering pink plastic porcupine neon meowful soda shows,

The fire opens and my fall comes apart,
Electric waves of salvation,
Only for the Braille method and butterfly wings,
Keys and seeds and broken pieces,
No picture to back me up,
Got to get another number before the seal comes,


Just a powdery voice and a flowery smile,
Messages starving in escalator passageways,
Redrawn shadows just to match my past,
A little twist just the right atmosphere,
I finally know I lost the fight,
Just the edge of a delicate smoke ring,
And even though I reach for them,
I can’t say I ever saw a trace,
And so I just have to push,
And no one can hear it when I flinch, minus one,

Button holes I never noticed,
Drying in the sun,
I’m happy with my new address,
Taking turns on the last switch,
The message bilocates my karma,
With questions and doubt,
Took over the stain,
Keeps my head under the weight,
My back touches the stars,
At least I have the key.

second chances

Bend a full window; by the interest into turning, by the rose in climbing, by the patience in flying. Before and belong; keep the language outgoing, the bird songs in my ear, the tiny feet on the ceiling, in the wings and flowers, and the hairs and gasps for more love, around skylines and horizons, between fingertips and eyelids, in fears and intuitions.

Where is the multi-pitch rain shadow reflection, cross motored and quilt eared in metronic saturation and saturnic quatrains? Bleeding by so many different names, mouth to mouth in the shame, ashes and wind. Shining crevasse, which circle is it that is illuminated, and which has its own needs? Where does light end and vision begin? What is the time between a river and a canyon? What is the velocity of a line left by a shooting star? How many times does an idea change after it is expressed? How many times does it exist before then? Does the heart only squeeze blood, or is it more like a butterfly rippling the top of a pool? What is the distance between experience and impulse? Between inside and outside? Between warmth and cool? In these precious folds rolls your life, held in the hands of God. The hands that hold all and bestow all. Where you listen to your voice free of words. See with your eyes free of vision. Experience your touch free of sensation. Your heart free of love. Your mind free of thought. Your breath free of breathing.

The more stillness, the more each resonations fullness knows. Where does the stillness come from? Where do the resonations come/go from? Where am I now and where have I been? One candle lights a mist out on the desert, like a child in a dream, deeper into a fuzzy world. No one can find the hole in me ears where all the emptiness goes. Imperceptible winds, things I’ve overheard. Puts my mouth in a tender strange land, where I talk with other people’s secrets. Stories of original thunder asleep within the words. Myth of the mystics. A wind no one knows carries a force no one feels. We pretend in the name of today’s sunlight, there’s only a story to tell, and pay each other well, with every juicy hands oasis, out on the desert, like a child in a dream, deeper into the indefinite waves, lifting senescences from my scalp, no one can trace a single step in the iridescent webs. Only refuge in the sanallipsal zephyr all along the magnificent coast in the circles of completion, you can travel for days and not be any closer or be any further away. All of my comforts and dreams reveal you, play in the sweeping veil undulations of disappearance. All along the peaceful coast, no one can trace a single step only listen to the gentle invitations, the ripple in the world’s resonant field of pinpoint doorways, one candle lights a mist, to circles of completion. No one can trace a single step. Only a tremulous heart to mark the stars in the sailors’ eyes. Out on the desert, like a child in a dream. Listening for the wind that brought me here. In the river and times rushing to meet, the sand morning painting color, a broken moon residue of sounds wafted up through an orange and pink tree. Settling into eyes and pens, edges of clouds, and brow lines. Angeles in disguise. Each time I cut/turn the deck, I spread so much thinner, my spine leaps, the purple road tuning into noon peaks, the swing around the tree moves to the edge of each satellite balloon riding the canyon night wind. Deepen the shadows across the outline. The sea below the shoreline. Carry the dawn color seams and the sky’s round arm, smile over the end of time. The land of giants of time and of kissing. The river lives in a flame.

oh ya

Head perfumed flower craze, wave ancient tidal maze,
the timeless ghost flight source, one step double exposed,
in snake eyes and sunbeams.
Wind ripples the sand inside an hourglass. An earth quake silently slips
the mirrored surface over the lines on my face, over skeleton dust
in the cave of lost lovers. I crave to forget all the questions I hide in my eyes.
The ghost flight desert wind and an ocean song, through a
radioactive headset wired to the stars, gazing past all the deaths it
takes to measure up to questions of faith, and guessing how many it
takes to superimpose Gods justice over my hopes. Is it too late to call it
fate? Or too early for my nirvana to accept, sin and salvation in every breath.
The wheels never disengage, but tip toe around roses and thorns, the garden
at rest but not asleep, each contact is with my third eyes ghost print ghost flight
in the green chest question, knocking on the winds with loose reinfected rights,
brought back to life with witchcraft for the opportunity of redemption,
caught in the onslaught of slippery kisses, left to die in the same burning schemes,
without the knowledge of the one small step into steam vision within the radiant
invisible insight the super saturated trail of a shooting star flashes through this quicksand atmosphere that fills my eyes with glue to finally find the only shelter lies within.

seen

In the moonlight
Ready for rain,
Bone on bone,
I thought I could make it through,
I thought I was sensitive enough,
For every place I’ve never been
My terrain of hopes and chains,
Little extensions, still I won’t let go,
It’s not that I was hidden in hoops and shadows,
On the wrong end of town,
At J’s pale blue saloon,
I just figured out little tricks,
For the horse races and casinos’,
Loneliness and suffocation,
When things don’t really meet up,
I just figured on some other way of listening,
Some other way to visit,
When something is missing from its’ place,
Pull the shades and let in the carousel,
Take the voices for a ride one by one,
It’s not that I was not the heat,
It’s just that I always needed another little sign,
In the pale lagoon, in this hunting preserve,
Couldn’t there be someone I could trust,
Am I cursed here?
Bone on bone as if I weren’t born with enough closeness,
After her floods come and gone,
Bone on bone and we all begin in a dimly lit room
But sugar don’t tell me it’s no good for you,
Don’t let me down get down with me baby,
When the pieces don’t fit,
And I can’t make any sense of it,

calling

Inside broken
bamboo in the ocean or on the sand
no foundation
no location
are sense dissensions in the surrounding calls
down the subway
calls deafen my own ears, more than my ears
I have to look but there’s no direction at all
winds blow
the wheels flat
I laugh from the apogee anticipations
carry some return to a perfect fit
riding the slipstream to a sail slipstream to a sail
awaken dreams
rhythms, can’t wait to shake off my coat
beneath let my line
all the way out
from the holy land to the waters of love the waters of love
to see
the big fish
lest I eat in the garden where prayers began
the garden where prayers began
ghosts fall
my burdens fly
peel claim new layers in the thin air
trail and grow
another voice
gesturing with a tear
hindsight acceptance a new doorway
hindsight belief a new home to go between
upside down
inside out
a distance I cross
inside broken
too many answers in the summer’s heat wave river dream sand
and in the hiding of winter’s secret relies
up to the beginning of winter’s command
the corner of each quiet semantic night switch
all the way from cherry starts to rapture annihilation
last limit on final communion.

a word in need of healing

A word in need of healing,
No messages this morning Rosemary,
A world at loss of all its’ secrets,
Over and between but couldn’t replace,
No places for the clowns, mimes and puppets,
No one notices the floor mirage,
No telling whose was worse

Neither earns,
Neither owns,
each other with ten times the darkness,

Spending time across the water,
On forbidden rooftops,
To breathe dust in the memory in my chest
Where the risk shapes the noises,

Money for nothing,
No money down under too much for nothing
Can’t touch another switch
Squirt and honk
Till three o’clock in the morning
No shade
All the wishes can’t find their way back

A word in need of healing
Not your temperature, colour, gravity, light, density,
But give it your best half eye dungeon dream
That can’t see the time passing anymore,
But the serpent knows
In the rain
Pigeons and doves,
Make the sound the same
My guitar gently disappears
But couldn’t get far enough
So many wishes
Couldn’t open the eye
But gives hope to the shape shifter
Who wonders why am I cursed
in this hunting ground
touching blood I swear
I didn’t belong

all sand

Apricot jubilee, fairies of debris, secret chanting rhyming sanctuary. My prayer circle is a satellite that turns with my sister. I’ve been waiting for thee, now I give up my hopes rhythmically, in the crosses of my camel’s heels and humps, I release cells of celluloid into a fountain.
I release calls without retreat.
I enter the darkness in the end.
I release dust into the void.
I call in the name no one can hear, in the sound of shattered voices, in the ground shaping paces, in the face of a vision.
I have one drop of crystal water on my lotus brow, between all my scattered opal eyes, staring they keep the wax picture of winter’s community half-full at midnight, a whispered dance in the curtains nurturing the east.
I am carbon ash, wherever I light the flame it is the same light and gentle tone, the jet stream’s lazy hand, satin changes and steel contracts.
I am empty in my laughter.
She acts afraid washing my apron and chain, I feel safe with all my scars, with my lesions and tattoos, laughing along in the lilac parade, looking for the catalog of extinct flying birds available for consumption at any time.
Mazes of the stances of a soldier’s last day and the breath of an undersea glider, love’s first potion at dawn, diving over the edge and glimpses of freedom’s silhouette
fade to orderly homecoming forgotten equanimity.
Equal belief, equal belent
All glimpses begin as dreams, all movements begin as steam.
Straight jackets and silken robes.
The seed’s dreaming heart, always reborn solitarily in itself, delivered up by dendritic hooves, lacing baskets and drawing bows,
tiny packages talking tiny whispers,
islands underneath the skin,
islands without time,
islands rolling through blinking rippled cathode moon hourglasses,
winnowing shadows, sunburn marrow, finds hunger’s next sigh,
leaving crafty values around language, around smiles,
to keep unburying, electric entanglement washes riddles with oil.
tremors never wasted on feelings, nostrils’ precious home,
trachea crucifixion before fresh ripped blanket ecology,
string blooming recollection juices anticipation,
just inside elongated empty eye regret circuits around the shade,
with a song and a rhythm with a name of its own,
with a place to land, a place to be born,
a place of waxing and waning and wanting,
a place dreaming of a way to get to you,
a place that is dream to make you his own,
a haunted vision of shipwrecks out on the desert.
all the stars dreaming into each other,
spiral soft shell honk and a knife edged eye spilling spider webs,
berry lips and slip jaws hot arachnid footprints in delicious
scorched wheels flying continental drifts, heat wave weaves
sympathetic traces in new skin turn flawless looking spinning
around blue breeze train, consecrated bony fire scratches
precious history rings, gifts spinning in the radiant sea,
glints stabbing through kinesthetic dreams, weaving wet hanging

heavy heaving fading falling free breath filament throwbacks, wetbacks, immigrants of the noosphere, walking Aphrodite in the dust of conformity, tears teeth tongues worn weak in the moon silver heartbreak trance doorway over the green growing grasshopper catalyst crossover correction ocean, flower-bird circle flies toward another eye lens inverse equation, watching whirlwinds without words, adrift on a sail turning the page bellowing without resistance, shine and shadow to force and inertia, every moment is a solstice and apocalypse of desert wombs bell tree
sliding lotus, island brightness, my hands turn, lily reaching, orchid dancing, lilac distance,

set

Boneless, Breathless, Broken eyed,
Destined for a different path,
Gods got a great, plan for you,

Paralyzed, Pacified, Petrified,
out spied, out identified, out contrived,
Gods given you, more than you could dream,
in a million years of dreaming,

Be set, Besieged, Bitter blue,
desperate enough to make the edges meet,
Gods given you, great powers and resources,
by breath, by beat, by between,
I knew you’d make it through,
by the echo in the wall,
Gods given you, great gifts of gathering,

Detailed, Detonated, Depth,
destined for guidance in guesswork,
Gods given you, eyes to see him,

Prepared, Prepoured, Pre told,
desperate enough, to feel the heat of empty space,
to hear the voice of original birthplace,

Coiled, Castrated, Counter weighted,
ever wonder what comes forth in the dark,
only given in the grave,
the final unborn cross,
waiting for you, to pick up the pieces,
all alone, without a trace,
without a taste, without taking,
ever wonder how to hold this gift,
more delicate than flowers in bloom,
more revealing than the full moon,
more embracing, than awakening, from a cocoon,
ever wonder why the shadows insist, on periphery,
a one eyed oil bearer, free from repeating,
that finds its way into 3-D,
untouched, untempered, untold,
with great contents, unexplained,
destined for, all you need,
Gods got a great,
plan for you,
that will make you stretch, strain, itch,
seek in sweat,
buried in the spark, waiting in secret,
Desperate enough, fancy wont last in this self reflection,
Gods given you,
one final path.

last jolt

Easily charmed,
Easily harmed,
Through the wall, uncertain clues about an uncertain past,
All that became, what we call now,

A casual glance,
An unusual stance,
Disturbances in our delicate hands,
In the sensations themselves,
Ghosts and spirits dance,

The uncertainty principle falls deeper into spacetime,
Desperate attempts to make dust fly,
In search of knowing,
To make an old sailor of a new queen,
A sudden turn,
Overlooked or reborn,
The rendez-vouz once again uprooted layer by layer,
By gardens overgrown,
All in secrets never learned, stones unturned,
Buried in treatises unsigned,
A taste of limits touched never found,
Moments brushed by uneven distances mis-matched,
Depth for extent lapsed,
Hairs only believe in blood,
Never seen but seem enough,
To hold the bones uncertain thrusts,
For signs of trust,
Edges dug,
Below the mud,
Promises too vague and too slow.
But enough for dreams,
Stranded in the clouds.
6am clowns floating away,
Another form of another day,
In the morning rays,
The night still pulls my ankles to the stars,
And who would say this is not the way,
To live in the residue,
Where dust and demons argue,
Over what’s not through,
Over you,
Nothing new, I want mine too,
Deep in the out reach,
In the furtive castle, seeking reprieve,
Deep in the finger tips,
Deep in the skipping trance,
No trace left in the footprints,
Following the edge of the quicksand answer,
Burning incinerator in a cool forest,
My mouth has a thousand doors,
Bends ashes and eyelashes,
My face has no beginning,
My lips left a trail of kisses,
By no history,
So many sides in the folding kaleidoscope,
Sometimes broken, sometimes alone,
Carve like a shooting star to total the abyss,
Never miss those signals from shaking prism portals.
Leaving lightyears ago,
They pick out one by one, cell by cell.
The image of death,
Packaged up in breaths.
Further and further apart,
Wheels within wheels, on separate roads,
Cross words of galaxy worms lazy orbits,
Tighten collective childhood trick indian burns,
Things we never said,
Make up the precious space between us,
Trying to dim the red shift one more moment,
Bring into view for a quick, one view was bent close enough to catch the hue,
I thought I could get away with just that,
But it doubled up on the ricochet,
I skipped ahead and left the story open ended,
I heard them talking about it,
It seemed as though from within.
Pyramids on the edge of the soul,
Trade the second guess
Take out all the memories together,
Time filled with oil and command,
The breakfast coconut compass to give to the bone chilled enemy delicacy,
Sweet nectar of looking up into some never been humpback hack rider,
My back track return wrapped up in skin I can hold and hear,
But no where near the key is found,
Left headgear behind her knee,
Coffee recent tragedy late fermented hope,
I will see again,
Things I don’t want to say,
The next step tapping a secret word,
I turn and turn,
Early codes curl,
For that she needs to cry,
And I forgot how to spell out in the wasteland,
Irresistible calls and an unmistakeable course,
Blind answer started the awe and static,
The speaker system squeaks,
Believing it was a bird,
And I must translate the safety angles,
At the right moment so as not to disturb,
Blue lust too complex and interwoven,
Blow to and fro over luck and a couple of dust shackles
Never cross amplitude with being nude,
That’s exactly how her brass would be understood,
New moon twin heights,
Something for finally breaths’ seaweed nebulizer,
and anything left,
to start a war,

so I sent myself a message
but it didn’t look like rain,
only the haze exploding,
sensitively led astray,
to fractures, stars and ashes,
pi reductions in a crows eyes,
and my spark kept them apart,

little pressure limits in the current
cover me like a drum,
sometimes I feel too obtuse,
but I still make it through,
umbilical chords charge,
strummed and such,
the missing draught keys,
a chimpanze on a solar flares face,
an eye for the tomb,
colored treats the tongue and room,
jawbones don’t last,
horror the storm,
walls of dough,
being born a window,
better off a filled role,
fineness that doesn’t need a notice,
I fancied myself a foreign trade,
layers of symbols, music and evolution,
most of the time I was laughing too,
grateful like gold,
lightning strikes and plays with me,
they told me sit on the floor,
smoke swirls in the hour glass
foreign postage
wind delivered brush strokes on my ribcage

slowly the shapes bite the squeaky bird under my skin
all I heard was a shock wave
for my heart
take my heart
this beat and all its heat

all I have is night
but I can’t fly

for you

Because I burn, around the fire of your mouth,
I find your eyes irresistible,
No escape from riddles in the seam,
One light leads to another, for my electric tadpole fossil brainstem,
I get my gifts directly, and understand why the road is so narrow,
Because I burn in a light rain of your open sky fields,
your heat waves under my feet carry me through the death of sleep,
No escape from the dream splicer,
blowing spiral Spanish stairs in the mirror of remembering my dreams,
I get my gifts directly,
the green landscape through a broken horn reciting the name of wholeness,
shadows walk with the perfection of falling stars,
Delicate mechanisms like changing leaves and sand,
Because I burn, in the laughter of a dying man,
no escape from extremes,
a thickly robed hyena, in your glass river bed turning wheels,
I get my gifts directly, lost in the twilight,
turned around in drifting canvas of satellites in strange partial blindness,
thick blanket of eternal escaped wild card soundless skinless bones,

the fall

Because her eyes were wet with sin and believing, I was exiled into seeing. My eyes bright with ignorance. The moon over my head lights the hills and rises. Her skin holds the distance of a day, so I run as far as I can. In some places fullness and emptiness embody one another. In others they only suit themselves, I wonder which one she dignifies in the blue flame in a land of her many states, in roots digging in the light, in a sky diver’s breaths for her smile, in every sailor’s destiny for her mouth. There is a small raining window between us, so soft I have to close my eyes to cool my heart. There is a one well finger waiting that is so wide I have to see out to roam with my cries. Petrol water so heavy I have to conceive to heal my thighs. Silent mistake asleep in the meadow. Headlights don’t shine where I want to see. The snake with a thousand pages of teeth in a little bottle of ink and spice. Loss and discovery. My gray calming teeth cracking day by day, peeling gelatinous layers in a steamy eye.

Old King Cole was a Mary old soul, and Mary has always been, love’s goddess in landslide heat, sphenoid resonances in the swinging trees, desire singing in pounding hooves, sting in dipping wings rushing streams balancing its not unsaid (over time another layers slippery seeds are shed, led towards her shoulders combined in harmony.)

My queen is my license and my victory. I wouldn’t recognize my baby’s answer. Wouldn’t recall her twitching thighs full of wet ambition. She’s nonnegotiable. Her smoothness on fire with causality under the starlight. Like every break in the wind. She shakes no hollow tones in the yellow leaves. She doesn’t take no musical improving. She’s got a backside. She does not affect me in any way that I can see. I do not see the ocean of blood ebb and flow between us, or the light bending within us. I only know that it is sweet, that she has cultivated and carries some tangy nectar that I cannot get enough of . I love her more and more for my own benefit. I pull on her mouth. I do not know if it is an experience I long for. I drink and cherish some nature of hers that I do not know. I think it is indigestible; but we are one.

And my dry heart out into the wind, blows around like tumbleweed. My opaque eyes miss hollowly, the falling halos, until my imitation twins glow shivers in the wind, the familiar coat remembers how rain dances lightly behind my eyes, and ships of molo sailed out of the foggy night, my mouth, to buildings in the dusk and dawn embroidered over my pulse, where the lights go out all sealed in her touch. I call to her. Tell me, sweet Marie, how do you feel. Can you show me where you live. Is it the fire in the ground, is it the fire in the void, is it the frozen in the ground, is it the feeling in your heart, is it the place where you began, a space without command, do you live at all, are you with me right now, can you let me know somehow, oh sweet Marie, I’ve been watching so long, I’ve been tracing every river flow, I’ve been lost in the rise and fall, sat with my eyes open for days, now I call out with every sound I know, sweet Marie. Out on the oceans where we meet again, entranced by each other’s eyes, slipping in and out of the cliffs speaking edge, searching for sweet Marie. All the way from your villa on the hill, to your golden desert valley, from swollen head to broken heart, in the pieces lies the one spark, a buttery flying antidote, at the end of every street, I look and smell the emptiness so sweet. It feels like I’ve been waiting here all my life, and now I ain’t got no time left. I’m whispering and watching. I have written notes of every kind and left them just for you. If there’s one thing left to say, it’s that I didn’t know those shadows had other stories to tell. At the end all the road all the signs disappear. It’s like they were never there at all. The only signs are those from me to you.