A Moment In Time

Using God,
as an excuse to
stab your Brother.

Praising men,
who preach pity
and create hate.

Using God,
as an excuse to shun
personal phobias.

Confession, can't save you know.
Like you said, he decides where we go.
Right?

I'll see you down here.
:)

Floating up, down
round the realms.
To no-where land.

A place where
nothing matters
.
It's a real,
place to be.

Living in the freedom
of a "promised" land,
within the comfort of your mind.

I'd like to go there.

Scream mad blues
to smooth sordid cries...
ache away
from a black dream moans.

Howling dirt roads--
rolling through the night.
Wish to help you,
but it's not my fight.

Burning stars
in the midnight darkness
harken back
to hot candle wax poured on my skin.

As we ride
on steamy southern hills--
windows down
I hear your sleepless sigh for help.

Scream mad blues
to smooth sordid cries...
ache away
from a black dream moans.

Not many understand the concept of breathing
For the rain became placid
And as of result, my mind became numb
And as the serenity of what is
Becomes the serenity of what was,
Our bodies travel forward
In this Fourth Dimension
  
People Lose Sight Of Time

And what a proficient view!
Men walk the streets beneath
Their great umbrellas,
People feign their beliefs in humanity
But as it so happens to be--

There Is None

"Why won't you come my darling?
Where is it that you plan to go?"
And she would ignore the very syllables
I pathetically spat
And the very life of the sound had withered away

It became your favorite toy,
You know?
The one you lent your cousin;
The one that lost it's heroism in his hands
As it lost it's leg--
As his Fourth Dimensional state changed in what
seemed to be an instant!

So entirely drastic
For my change was not noticeable
To the naked eye--
And what a proficient view!--
That one only sees my eyes water
And my lungs spout a shriek
Nothing drastic

But Now I Can't Shriek

For I am now a man
And my lungs may only keep me breathing,

Or so the concept goes

Life's like
a
twelve step program
of shit eating.

Then you get to wash
it all down
with punch
&  then you,
die.

Love is just a pigment
of a colour
we can never get in our hair.
No matter how many times we try
dying it.

You should have just gotten the abortion.
Wudda made this a whole lot easier.

Time to say goodbye
goodbye to dark cocoons
  lactation to pacify
   to required siestas at noon
   to shared mire pies
  soliciting stars to execute
to graceless springtides
to foolish midnight routes
to callow understanding
  fear of stressing on visage
   to solipsistic demanding
   to making every pilgrimage
  to teaching teachings
to covets and rues
to bedside water glass reaching

when goodbyes are finished
  
  here's hoping you say them all
    
    may you have nothing due

generous and expanding
white's brilliant reflection..
many shaded towers
edges enclose with
high definition..
sometimes
a precursor to unwelcome
beauty..
hailstones
waterspouts
tornados..
we too
accumulate faces...

Afraid to lie in the beds I've made,
I seek comfort in your sheets

Your morning sighs,
my springtime breeze