It's almost 2am.
I'm kind of laying here in the hot, unnatural heat.
I miss you a little bit.
My insomnia has been bad lately.
I guess you're okay.
I'll just write about you for awhile until I drift off into the colourless world of pretend realitys promising to bring you back to me.

Guard's boots echo on stone floor
Crash of ocean pounding rocks
Roar of wind across the waves
Lost gull cries against the storm
Clang of iron door slamming shut
Key rattled lock clunking tight
Stifled whimper, slap of skin on skin
Maddening laugh follows screams
Psalms 23-4 whispered over and over
Sounds of hell slide through my bars
like wisps of black smoke in the night.

r ~ 6/15/14

She believes in wishes,
And that true love exists,
And Maybe some day
Will come her prince.

She wears flower crowns,
And reads old books,
She believes in poetry
And in unicorns, too.

She enjoys learning
And reading the dictionary
But never got good grades
It just wasn't the matter.

However this world
Was never enough
She wanted a fairytale
And never got it along.

That's why
she had to create
A world for herself
And nobody else
Hoping someday
A prince would come
To rescue her from this sleep
That never begun.

I refuse to participate
In this race
so corporate

Where nothing but competition rules
Where competitors
get thrown to hungry wolves

They call it survival of the fittest
And elimination
of the weakest


Competition they say breeds innovation
As if a creative soul
needs any confrontation!

They corrupt you with conviction
Of wealth, riches, fame and
instant gratification

They put a noose round your neck
With a cabin
enclosing your desk

You toil night and day
To keep
the wolves at bay

You die a little every day
Dreaming of things
to do your way

Only you can these fetters break
By doing what you love
Even if it is  for a smaller cheque

In the extra time that you have
Gaze at the world  
with wonder and awe

Go paint on a canvas, or weave a web of words
Or simply go watch
wild animals and birds

For when you finally go up for review
He will treat us all
with the same view

He
for sure
will ask

Did you laugh, did you cry
Did you
Your precious life enjoy?

I refuse to participate
In this race
so corporate

Gonna move to Qatar
ride in a gold Beemer
playin' songs for the Emir
on a ruby studded guitar.

Live in a silver highrise
go skiing in the desert
eat caviar for desert
singin' about the disenfranchised
and ruby studded guitars.

I'll be an expat in Doha
drinkin' with the monarchy
speakin' absolute malarkey
playin' tunes for all my brohas
on my ruby studded guitar
in Qatar.

r ~ 6/14/14

Something black somewhere      in the vistas of his heart.

Tulips from Tates teazed Henry in the mood
to be a tulip and desire no more
but water, but light, but air.
Yet his nerves rattled blackly, unsubdued,
&suffocation; called, dream-whiskey'd pour
sirening. Rosy there

too fly my Phil&Ellen; roses, pal.
Flesh-coloured men&women; come&punt;
under my windows. I rave
or grunt against it, from a flowerless land.
For timeless hours wind most, or not at all. I wind
my clock before I shave.

Soon it will fall dark. Soon you'll see stars
you fevered after, child, man, & did nothing -
compass love to the pencil-torch!
As still as his cadaver, Henry mars
this surface of an earth or other, feet south
eyes bleared west, waking to march.

from  *The Dream Songs