They boast of alluring ****
across from the church,
wearing green livery and dapper brown
and no crime to ever be
confessed was committed by
waters sat so still,
for dead children tell no tales
and ducks cannot talk
the atrocities of men.

Doe eyed, staring, steaming.
Chocolate, toffee and coffee,
Cream and buttermilk
Or black and white.
Roused at dawn
To yield the warm succour
meant for their long dead offspring
Morning, mourning for natures call of motherhood.

You move on all fours, hands are your feet
getting pink-breasted by a garden tulip
and roses gather your thorns to a side street
where we once met, in love just enough.

There was much in that café sort of city,
I thought it was Christmas even in summer:
even on a grey day, you made it pretty
while the clouds so septic, swept me under.

Could not digest the place that is love,
for it felt overgrown and I was just a guest
dining with what is pure, nesting doves:
the meal charcoaled my stomach to unrest.

And I learned that a stationary loving
   is not worth a lifetime of running.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

We sipped boulder rock from refrigerators doors
and watched the heavens hand out food stamps with IBM logos.
“ode to Mehmet” we sang, and licked the Mossberg—
fixating on the blue collar philosophy that lived in our empty wallets.

Trash cans filled with water bottles stared at us to find our essence—
the one we had lost while being fed quintessential American idioms
in state-of-the-art classrooms sponsored by slaves and Popol Vuh blood.

Six million years of human existence trivialized down to a single sentence—
* Man loved God, man wrote, man conquered God, and now man loves science* —
scribbled on SmartBoards afforded by fire burning from Prometheus’ female liver.

Trees sing with oxygen no more for the sake of making paper,
and eyes soak in the words on paper for the sake of making paper.
Trees make the avenue but the future holds an Avenue of no trees—
… for in the land of the free, anything but freedom ain’t free.

Beer is my true friend:
Always there when I need her.

Tough day? Let me comfort you, brother.
Have you missed your lover? Have you missed the others?
Do you lament the nature of your body?
Of your soul?
Do you eulogize the notion
That you had any idea of them in the first place?

But you rejoice, and I know it.
You love the loneliness, and you are glad that it’s yours.
Bring it to me. Bring me your neutrality,
Your distaste. Bring me your melancholy,
And I will fix it. I will make you passionate.
I will make you a gentle angry. I will make you beautiful.
Buy me, beer, friend, and you will see.
All mediocrity disappears before me.

I love you sweet beer, more than sweet love,
Because you are fresh and new every time,
Never jaded, only slightly bitter,
And justly flowing to my soul.
So let me dance on this sweet Oahu night
With you in my hand.
I need no woman.
You are my muse and my lover.
You are there when I need you,
Don't care if I stupidly mistreat you,
Don’t care if I leave you.
I love you,
Sweet beer.

I knew a man once
who saved me from destruction
He had this crazy way about him
Within his presence you couldn't help
but feel alive

He was generous
and proactive
His salvation was achieved
through helping others

He had a savings account
in which he'd drop his change
and soon he'd accumulated
so many wonderful things

But none of these things could be found
in his home for they were nothing of material
many times in life he'd been broken down on
the side of the road

A feeling I believe we've all had a chance
to know
and he vowed from then and still today
if he witnessed this event he
wouldnt walk away

Through bankruptcy he kept this account
Refusing to help himself
and whom ever found themselves broken
down were surely lucky when he came around

Generousity for him was a necessity
Helping others was for his own benefit
because giving others hope
meant the world to him
No doubt thats money well spent