One thing I learned
in my long college career
is that
I don't know a thing

I cannot read minds
nor fix this world
I still fall back to
this broken poetry

The place to be
we thought as youth
though in this life
it's a choice we choose

where you desire to be
is a figment of reality
a plan so mismal
to the burning sun

What faith you lack,
oh guilty one
on this track of life
you chose death!

In this college degree
I learned to see
not through intellect
but through emptiness

Poetry flows like gentle tides
before a hurricane
her sandy shores
anticipate

Three jumps left
and two jumps right
the lord speaks
and I follow

Milk moonlight of divine delight
silky sheets of satin rose
nerves underneath
emit electricity
and birth

Lovers in my past
don't leave my mind
their faces exist
etched in time

Sink like a stone
through deep waters
fall to her blackness
and the dark sea's wonders

thin skin, a lighted hook
neon guppies glitter
in florescent
store light

Take heed when he calls
for the depressed ones
in your life
call

Always help
those in need
for you never know
when you, it could be

Solomon wrote
songs and poetry
they flowed from thought
as divine symphony
of what does this teach you of women?
Solomon had the most
of any man

Be true to yourself
and your dreams will come
not the dreams you've planned
but the one's- you stumble upon

Look at me
My skin
Has dealt with a lot


                         I have lived through
                         Tumors and attacks
                         Cuts and bruises from me
                         Bruises from him


My poor skin
In the end
This damage is
All for naught
Because


                            *"Scars are only **** on guys..."

Tonight will be different,
I'll go to sleep soon;
Just as long as I'm not bothered
By the light of the moon.

I'll wait for you forever
till stars forget to shine,
and oceans become puddles,
words no longer rhyme

Till deserts turn to gardens
where flowers go to bloom,
the grass is red, the skies are green,
the dawn brings out the moon

Till rain is something very dry
and butterflies drive trucks,
when every pond is chocolate sauce
with candy coated ducks

Till basements have a penthouse view
with windows three floors high
and stairways are a place to swim
no matter how you fly

Till mountains are a level path
that you will go to walk
and silence now becomes a way
for every one to talk

Till everything we've ever known
is gone and disappeared
The world does end, there's nothing more
just like we always feared

Till broken hearts are happy,
tears a welcome site
Night comes at the break of day
and daytime looks like night

I'll wait for you forever
until the end of time
It matters not how long it takes
if I can call you mine

Oh, cumbersome language-*
When one might reach, grasping and willing,
Toward a certain and knowable feeling
It is you who blocks the way.

No sooner is the feeling felt and clutched to breast
Than it attempts to mould to thunken word,
Where, with treacherous glee,
It flails and fails to fit.

So soon we stand with naught but putty in our hands,
As it cools and crusts to nonsense.

Introduction:
What is *Preludium but a time to reflect on what it is we know;
What has gone before, and how it might shape those things to come?

Preludium, or, what has gone before:
An entire world,
A great big steaming musty living breathing screaming world and-
For all we know-
There’s but two souls that care to fill it:

Sly Squint, our latest hero,
Swinging through his city like t’were a steaming jungle
And him the proverbial Ape,
He crouches in shadows on rooftops,
Directing his lust, forceful! At all
That kneels before him.

Then there’s our mysterious wanderer-
One hell of a sorry, stinking, sulky sort is he.
No Name to claim yet garbed in rags aplenty
Travelling on an endless quest
Towards a dying dusk.

Yet we need to draw a Third.
See, in this strange place we find ourselves, riddled with danger and loss,
We need one who knows some things;
One who is up there;
Better yet, one who helped to shape this world.
Because for now we are clueless, vulnerable, shambling in darkness.
And that will simply not do.

So, with haste, dear reader, with haste,
Let us ride for the one with the answers;
The one with more Names than you can count, even if you had a lifetime in which to do so;

The one who holds all the strings.

Introduction
There they stood; keeping silent company.
Yet of His face, wept searing electricity.

To the lovers of life*
Here they stand, keeping silent company.
No utterance dealt; yet clear in both their minds
A single, brilliant truth:

He longs for her with a savage delight.
And it cries from every fibre, exalting!
It is in the bearing of his eye;
Rifling through her tender flesh
In search of what he knows, from voices ages old, is there:
That her heart will beat for no other as it beats for him right now;
That in this moment, their Souls are bared
To each other’s glares- naked, and blemished, and cowering-
Yet his eyes remain fixed and sure:

And for this, she loves him.

For they have seen each other for the First of Times,
Truly! And as with many the Ancient Laws unfurled,
They stand aware, in lack of ever being taught,
Aware with every atom, every straining tendon tight
That their time's so very short.

And so they drink… wordless
To each other, to their youth, and to their bodies
Shining like never before in the noonday air
Garbed in cloth that snaps and furls around their waists.

They imbibe with electric eyes,
Eyes that are new born to this world of light
And come out screaming, living, and sensitive
For lack of ever being touched.
They revel in their new-found joy;
Pouring from Her figure,
Of Her sleek, supple waist and the arch of her back,
Bristling with delight,
Of His strong hands and easy smile,
That spoke of laughter scattered
Across countless campfires of summers past.

Their light does burn intense as any fire,
And when their brimming anticipation
Overspills its crimson chalice
The silence shall SHATTER.
To find peace again in each other's arms.
Fumbling in sweet darkness-

Of heavy lids, of earthy flesh,
With lips embraced...

In ravenous finality.

Introduction
I stroll through green fields and realise I am home.
I bump against soft sandalwood: a fence –
And hang my head and weep

For Ginsberg, Whitman, and all the other cats clawing for tender acceptance
Strolling through ashen fields in rainbow night
Tugging on tender trestles of old mother crop of hair south
Casting to sky thine eye as black and white lights
Of rainbow night do fizzle and pop and – Oops!
Great incomparable fusion atom generator on the fritz
Once more the Centre of Cosmos choking and clouded with splutter.
As thine eye doth dissolve and revolve and resolve and see, from vantage point on high:
O Hell! O Eternal abyss of Chiaro-night, I am surrounded!
Thy Holy field lies cut and sliced by old tree corpses – lined up in terrible order by tender hand imbued
Thou might turn and run and screech impaled or *whisp inhaled by gasping trees, by dying trees, by dead trees who breathe.
And spat upon the lawn whence thou were born,
No matter the crop nor scenery.