Love-driven on the edge of chance
he took the stairs in his surefooted stride:
Two, four - and one too many.
Happens, sometimes.
He dunked his thumb in the jam pot
And sought for a sentence –
That eluded him.
He rooted, laughed and drank,
Took his scarf,
hat
and thought:
Such a lucky chance –
It happens, now and then,
That you lose time
But grasp your luck
And leave on the dot.

Well then!
Four, two – you know the rest:
One too many.
It was meant to be.
There were flowers by the table –
And the cups were steaming
Invitingly to be stirred.
Hot chocolate and a piece of cake.
You know too well,
It happens now and then:
That you lose time
But grasp your luck
Hot chocolate and a piece of cake.

But it's as if you’re sucked into the page on which you sit so precariously. You realize his eyes have become weird again, throbbing to the beat of your love. He looks away, leaning back on his hands, arms taught. And you sit as if alone, watching him tear a piece off your history and craft a paper airplane from your devotion, fingers gently folding and creasing, lovingly shaping, his head turning, focusing, admiring. And when he is satisfied, he throws it with a flick of his pale wrist. It sails beautifully through the air, buoyed by affection and adoration, leaping through the gusts with pride. You reach out a hand willing it to come to you, wanting something so tender for yourself, for your gasping heart. But as you lean in, poised with glory, a thief melts from a burning tree, morphs from the shadows, an ugly, beaten creature, scaly and peeling. It slinks foreword catching the plane in its mottled claws, pinching it slightly as your lover lets out a small gasp, eyes widening. The creature places it inside the steel bars over its heart and suddenly the thing changes and becomes lovely, blooming and whole, an infection of grace and slender frame. Fragrance floats back to you as you cower and your lover looks at the lovely figure descending upon him and you scream and scream, seizing and foaming, something mad, unwanted, hidden from sight. But he is no more than smoke; naked body drooling, jagged blades protruding from his back; and where his heart should have been, there are only iron bars. He turns and howls, an alien sound, unreal, lips curling back, twisting and forcing his screeching notes into your chest smothering your mind. But finally you have had enough; finally you understand, finally you find strength to pull apart the stitching and release yourself and you fall.

always mindful
   not to love things

living so that they
   all could burn
and it would be nothing
   but an inconvenience

three objects
   have escaped my plan
maneuvered
   through my designs

1. old white macbook
   my beautiful
       smart
         well-designed
  whirring piece of brilliant technology
you are already gone. next.

2. wedding rings
  irrelevant
sold those motherfuckas in an instant

3. asian machine love
  i am having a hard time
having to let you go
  my beautiful, black mitsubishi.

i chose you.

i researched for weeks
  analyzing data
comparing machines
  prices
trying to be reasonable

and out of all the machines,
i.chose.you.

you are the perfect shape
  of all vehicle shapes, mitsubishi
i have a slight obsession with
   design
     lines
   c o l o r
      efficiency
speed
    and b  o  o  m  i  n  g SOUND

you are the perfect balance of safety
  including 4WD
and fuel efficiency
  (but you already knew that, didn't you?)

your headlights are so bright
  and your high beams
so magnificent
  it's almost embarrassing

mitsubishi, you little snake...
  you have a manual mode
so i can choose to be a race car driver
  whenever i want

mitsubishi outlander sport, i love you so

let's talk about your face
  you have a pig-face like me
your nose is abrupt
  it's blunt and it's different
and i love it

you know i hate the cold and the snow
  i love the sun and the moon
so you show them to me all the time
  moonroof, mitsubishi - brilliant
(with mood lighting for night? you dog!)

you wipe away the rain
  without me having to ask
you cast light into the dark
  all on your own
gps
  usb
subwoofer
  fockford fosgate
bluetooth

mitsubishi, you shake the earth
  alerting my family
that i am almost there
  blasting music
through my dna
  so that i am made
of vibrations and air
  invisible to the naked eye
or playing my science fiction audiobooks
  at a reasonable
and responsible volume

mitsubishi,
you respond to me with such grace
showing me impossibilities
with a rearview camera
saying, "hello!" in the morning
and, "see ya!" when i leave
(and i believe you mean it)

you heat my ass in the frigid winter
  an alert me with an icon
when i am losing traction
  or there may be ice
i could not ask for more, my machine love.

the deer was not your fault.
or mine, or the deer's.
  we were all doing what we do,
and to be quite honest,
  the deer got the shit end of the stick, mitsubishi.
i'm sorry about your dent and your crack
  i wanted to fix it, but i love you even more now

you are my one machine love
  with power
combustion
  and pistons
you are electric
  intelligent
and you boom
  sleek
comfortable
  well designed

i don't want to see you burn.
it would be more than an inconvenience.

two out of three things are gone.

but i chose you. i want you still.

my home is gone - fine.
my things are gone - fine.
that bastard is gone - fine.
my job is gone, mitsubishi.
  i am being stripped bare.

i am being humbled, mitsubishi.

i have to let you go.

but i'm not ready,
my asian machine love.

I haven’t slept in six nights
Staring into the ceiling
Seeing the hopeless
Catacombs of doubt
Less and less
I am helpless

I am nothing
I am nothing
I am nothing

I can’t spend another night
Alone with myself
My father’s words
Echoing between my ears
Low life punk piece of shit
It was like poetry
As I scratched the skin
From my hands
Less
And less
And less
At this rate
I won’t be so anxious

I watched my insides drip
Paranoia onto
The bathroom floor
Where I spent another night
Alone with
My thoughts
Spilling them
Into the sink
Until I couldn’t taste
The blood anymore
Strong liquor blues
At 2:43 am
On a Friday
Less,
Less

He said I wasn't his anymore

He said I don't matter to him

He said I never have

He said he would rather die then be with me

He said I was a piece of trash that needed to burn in a crematorium

He said I was a crazy whore

He said I never had a chance

He didn't know I had already known this...........

We dance soft, contained, closed-
-careful not to show.
We are safe within the lines.

Seeping out between the cracks,
coming to the surface,
are the real colors:
Wild. Beautiful. Broken.

Courage is in the simplicity:
bare feet on wood,
air in our lungs,
-a tiny beating-
a calling deep within our bones.

We dance imperfect and raw,
our bodies finding the voice that shouts to be heard.
We dance freedom, vulnerability;
the struggle of sunrise.
Unraveling,
we let ourselves be seen.

We throw, crash, release, open.
I feel your hand grab my arm,
and the way you hold me sews my heart together.
We are one.
We are separate.

Pulling back each piece
from the animals,
humanity,
the stars,
we are humbled by what we’ve created,
by each other,
ourselves.

Sweet things have no words,
only nods and sharp giggles
over gasping for water.

In these moments
I know there is something more.

it's just that goddamned tap tap tapping
but away it goes
up and down, up and down the rows
of violets and tulips
and she had two lips and violence
violent love and hate
crimes against humanity,
if there was ever any left
up and down, up and down the rows
of streets and cars
the lines and scars etched in his skin
but there's nothing like
a bottle of gin
numb around the edges, the seams
because everything is ever as it seems
and they just let it keep running
up and down, up and down the strands
leaving marks like brands to sell
the weave, the inches, the criss-crossed and sashayed
and she has it because it never looked to be
as long as she would like it as long as they would ask for,
and the years go on
so the tears flow on
growing longer and taller
up and down, up and down the walls
of granite and moss
just one quick toss over the edge
because maybe humpty dumpty had it right
nobody can piece that one together
like it's some big puzzle just twigs and grass,
make up the ass that he wanted to be
getting nothing that he wanted because he never asked
called or scrawled, just pushing, screaming
up and down, up and down the floor
of hardwood and paces
like jacks and aces handed out to those
who had them, no reward or achievement
it's own gift of life, and sometimes it's longer than you wanted
while crawling hands and knees to pick up
your bloody fingertips along the edges of cards,
because it's going to be okay.
because it will always be.

Its funny when people brag about how much money they make..
When the truth is the dollars worth is Jus as fragile as cake..
And when your flesh kisses death whats the amount you can take...
with you ..
The petals flourishes then they whither away..
Not a cent..
So tell me if this  make sense..
Pharaoh's died and put gold in their tombs and it been there every since..
So What does wealth  mean..the lust for more equals greed..
Whats your 30 pieces of silver will you betray the king..
Money over everything..
Are you aware what that really means..
Its like saying money by any means..
World full of Judas
surrounded by the truth but  tainted by unbelief...
Cash in hand but unaware of a misfortune..
Money is not everything a victim of the distortion ...
Of success.. called the American dream..
The pursuit happiness...
Plus the confusion of what it means to be bless..
Remember Job still called on God when it appeared he had nothing left..
Pain from boils on the flesh..
Prayed to God not treasures in a chest..
You look in see Greed's pollution..
When people need solutions..
1.4 trillion spend on a war like we need more shooting..
Screaming we fighting for freedom thats an illusion..
A False freedom your a slave to that freedom..
We are to fight for the Kingdom....
Yes the Kingdom of God...
You know thou will be done..
Thou kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven..
Instead of being a part of this  spiritual recession..
Bluntness hear no discretion....
I am Gods art how could I not be his living expression..
If all u talk is money than ur a mouthpiece for Satan check your reflection...
The love of money is like an infection...
So this is a lyrical tax invasion..
Putting a stop to this money glorification..
I hope u kno that private banks  controls the countries inflation..
They could stop homelessness..
They print money based on their personal legislation..
Big business..
I thought this country was founded by Christians...
Hard to tell that the Constitution was inspired by scripture..
How u own the whole block of cheese n cant share a piece with a nibbler..
Praising a figure..
Yes im pointing fingers...
one hand round the Bible..
Pray that I wont ever need triggers 
Modern day golden calf..
Like Moses speaking to save u from Gods wrath..
You have 2 ask Jesus into ur heart then follow his path..
Cash screws everything around me.
Seems that the money comes with causalities
Seen Lump sums  destroys families..
Capitalism to me is a calamity
American nightmare displayed as a nice dream..
I am very aware the coming of Christ is not a pipe dream..
Awake while you sleep life is not what it seems...
You ready to eat poison ice cream..
Well here's a scoop of the truth..
Mr. senator gets paid  more than  troops..
Yet other men is his protection.
Right now my cousin in Afghanistan armed with a weapon..
Other there is a warzone...
But Mr. Senator your home.
In God we trust but won't step outside your home alone..
I depend on Christ..
Depend on man where's Kevin! Left Alone twice..
I am on fire so they take my matches..
More fear more security they increase my taxes
Should I trust banks money stuffed in the mattress.
Only God matters and your faith in him will matter more when the economy collapses
Let's define the word worth...
Well to everyone its different to some its a designer purse.
To others its its a NFL logo on turf..
To me if your worth is not in God then it is curse..
Let's drop the "th" and add ship to the end..
Where your worth lies is in  what your worshiping. .
Of course people are not content..
When they worship their ends and men...




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