Peace is a woman's lips
Wind wisps through milk sheets
A garden
Buzzing with pests.

It is hope through sorrow.
Peace is a plan fulfilled
Intuition
Bearing good fruit.

Peace is every moment
A sword drawn
Melted down
To form a chalice.

Peace is chaos organized
Set right to again be hounded
It is a lantern
Burning oil.

It is the promise of sunrise
Blood drawn in anger
Crusted and clot
On mesh fabric.

Peace is a scream toward sky
Cursing the God that made us
To realize
We are One.

Saturated with poison
A thorn in the heel
A burning lust for power
Peace is steel.

Peace, my friends
Is illusion
Is truth

It is life
It is death
It is cancer
It is youth.

Peace is within
Everything, everyone
Peace is our choice
Our release.

Still can’t sleep.
Like the walking dread.
Schedule I keep
Bemoaning the bed.

Mountains watching over
open vein streaming
pushed through from
nowhere.
Creatures singing war songs
sheltering their love.
Secret wind
whistles.
Crumbling avalanche,
at time’s tipping point.
No warning,
just down.
Speck of floating earth rock
spinning forever,
tree seed stretch
in space.
Silencing thunderstorm,
one moment,
to remember life
before.
Roaring fire comfort,
stories of the gods
to guide us
onward.
But the season’s changing
compassion choking
yet good keeps
breathing.
Sweet filling lung intake
scent of the flower,
the hilltop lilly.
The children reveal truth,
adults are hiding
the sunrise
glory.

Chisel your memory
To my plates.
Mind falling emery
Such is fate’s.

Mindlessly picturing
As by age.
Beauty quivering
Turning page.

Knuckles so painfully
Bending out
Tears fall gainfully
Hope’s sparse sprout.

Image so tenderly
Filling thought.
Eyesight so slenderly
Catching aught.

Breathing intake shallow
Lung fill work.
Every moment hallow
Even murk.

Approaching end rapid
Time so scant.
Experience vapid,
So much can’t.

But you are there,
In the echoes.
You are there.
Lovely,
Goodbye.

Caught in the snap of a wing
With a flap and a clap
And a sting.

Down to the ground like a stone
What a sound with a pound
All alone.

Watched by the flight up above
From that height what a sight
Of the dove.

Twists from the pain to the bone
Quite a sprain such a strain
Tragic tone.

Scooped by yet a net unknown
Panicked fret foreign threat
Worry grown.

Hope’s deceased from those eyes
Now a feast for some beast
No more skies.

Dress the break hurry fast
Half awake crushing ache
Make a cast.

Days soar by seeds so sweet
Seems so spry can you fly
Hoppy Feet?

Day has come grand depart
Slightly numb flutter hum
Flitting art.

To the blue build your nest
Cry your coo for you flew
Before rest.

Rainfall dream endlessly
Silent scream to the stream
Eternity.

Living through the night.
Sometimes
the sweetest dreams
keep me awake.
Faded.
Whispers in moonlight.

Subconscious streaming,
wishing
to be made whole.
Tales of heartbreak
shatter-
happiness screaming.

Light, fantasy stroll
hijacked,
taken by duress.
Dragged through the swamp land,
washed up
on the dreamscape knoll.

Eyes bloodshot in stress
blinking,
staring at today,
all the lovely words
together
like a rose bush dress.

Petals floating affray,
stumble
and slice at the heel.
Trailing uncertain
passage.
A tragic ballet.

Dancing feet reveal
her strength,
and the future glares.
But I know she's strong,
mighty,
like well crafted steel.

Though it isn't fair:
Living.
She reaches her hand,
touches my fingers
softly.
I wake with a scare.

My soul, she commands.
Relief
floods over terror.
Crying out, I choke,
"Don't go.
Stay in our dreamland."

In the morning,
they worked hard
because they worked
for themselves.

By afternoon
were disenchanted
and became goods
upon a shelf.

But that night
the moon turned red
because the toys
came to life.

The next day
the twist ties were left
but not a thing
was right.

His left hand flourishes
                                                                But­
The audience watches intensely
                                                       ­     There
The motions dazzle
                                                          ­          Is
Everyone paying attention
                                                   Something
Unexpected
                                                               Else
The illusion is shattered
                                                 Transpiring

           The magician takes a bow.

The foundation starts to crumble,

building like a muscle spasm

seemingly suddenly

but the chasm’s not shallow.



A throbbing pulsation,

intensity multiplying

through a fragile vein

where the weak start  to stumble.



There are cracks in the sidewalk,

disjointed like tendon

shouting through the pain

of childhood stained in chalk.



And the moment’s not passing.

The golem’s gnawing,

crushing bone into sand

into dust into hand.



The grinding screeching metal

causing the spark to ignite

the forgotten weeded mind

which fights but won’t settle.



Then the clenched power courses,

telling lies in righteousness

crying, “this won’t end!”

unless you stop it.



But the repletion of madness

tears the blood from the knife.



The throat is open.

The mountain’s *****

punching holes into families.



The swinging freedom of

unconscious motion

finds a target in innocence

if exists such a myth.



Sweltering demented meltdown

eroding this tail wagging acceptance,

ripping at the skin of freewill,

proving a point.



That monster has no soul.

that demon stares backward,

smiling from the pages

of mankind’s fiction.



“Burn!” he hollers.

Suffer and burn.

You are my children

in the lake of fire.



Only when it dries,

staining the lips of emotion

can those eyes see once more-

there is a person buried beneath.



A man in the devil’s jacket.



A man.

Painted a masterpiece
In my dreams:
A Chilean villa.
Cactus streams.
A flower composed,
Wilted with time
With muted colors,
Tequila with lime.
Fields of desert
With tuxtla soaring.
Winding paths of
Wood and brick flooring.
A cool wind blows
Through the heat
Over sweaty brows
And sandaled feet.
A moment trapped
That’s never been.
A life of others
Never seen.
Put away my brushes,
Stood back to admire
The deep ocean sky,
The burnt orange fire.
It lay on the table,
Alive on the canvas
When waking did cause
My hard work to vanish.
In memory only
And never shown
Forever discarded
Once beautifully known.
My studio of mind
So often produces
A wonderful concept
With no practical uses.
I’d like to live there
And run those streets,
Take shade under awnings
Sampling savory meats.
But I’ll never go there,
Never see that place.
Never plant in soil
That’s been erased.
That marvelous day
Conceived at night
Keeps the dreaming
Forever alight.

Tender, tiny dollar bill-
you give my time such worth.
Give my life to buy a thrill
And a box put under earth.

My gravestone sits over there;
paid a pretty penny.
Manages to look so fair
Surrounded by so many.

The car I drive is so nice
For my ride to the yard
Do not ask of me the price
Lest your dignity be marred.

My golden watch is better;
Reminds of time well spent.
Paid off the hassling debtor.
Lived at work to pay the rent.

Sick to my stomach
doesn’t it ever
fall into
place? This mad dash
race.
This human face
staring back at me,
tracking me like
I’m supposed to be
someplace,
meant to keep some
pace.
But I don’t even
want to go outside.
So I just hide disgrace
behind a mass of
failure.
And tailor my existence
so to wait for later.
And maybe
if I keep it all on
paper,
someday,  
some way
it’ll mean more than
labor.
I’m savoring the moment
the best I know how,
what I can allow,
and it’s turning me
into an old
man.
I ran into the world
like a coward
to find myself alone
and underpowered.
I showered myself
with the gifts
of my work.
Now I’ve got nothing left
but a false smirk
on my breath-
looking at this world,
afraid there’s nothing left.
And on and on
the ants keep up
the nest.
When will they stop and see?
When will we set ourselves free?
When can I just be me?

It doesn’t matter.
It’s hopeless.
All this empty patter
in tatters
when it’s lost in time.
This paradigm’s
got us locked
in a system that
uses.
Wears it all down,
bruises and
the abuse has
got us all thinking
this is the best of it.
And one man
can’t outwit
the masses,
because what passes
for moral
ends up in a quarrel
we can’t break out of.
Because we’re too tough.
Because we’re too rough.
All this pride’s
got us blinded.
And behind it all
is a fear of being
forgotten.
Of being nothing.
Our legacy’s rotten.
The timeline is
******, gushing
but fill another
dot in
‘cause the war ain’t over.
We ain’t done
giving each other
the cold shoulder.
And we’re getting older
but the fight’s still young.
Our enemies hung
but still nothing’s
Changing.
The same chess board
just rearranging
the pieces.
And the creases
in my face are
getting deeper,
and I see my child’s eyes
reflecting the face of the
grim reaper.

I wish you could see it.
This path, we could leave it.
‘Cause the answer’s
within.
Let’s dive on in
to our options,
‘cause the masses
just keep gawking
at the sky
like an answer’s
gonna fly
out of the clouds
singing so loud,
but God ain’t been talking.
And I haven’t seen
a miracle either,
so we’ve been
putting our faith
into a beaker,
letting the public speaker
tell us what’s real
and how to feel
‘cause it’s so much
easier.
A breezier road to walk
when you don’t gotta talk
to the fella your dad hated.
Staying sedated,
watching TV and
wondering if this was all
created.
That’s not the point.
We’ve gotta disjoint
from this follower logic.
Giving all our power
to the demagogic
and those who seek profit.
It’s better than nothing,
but we’ve got to come
off it.

Peace is a choice,
so if you’ve got a voice-
Let’s hear it.

Underneath the history,
beneath the blood,
the pain,
the corpses-

Somewhere covered by hatred,
deceit, pride, and jealousy,
below selfishness,
and ignorance-

Under mounds of ash
and toiling,
suffering and
Fear-

Somewhere underneath,
confined to fiction by
weakness:
There is something good.

…
And here,
I thought I had
something
to say.

I
Don’t
Need
Your
*******
Advice.

But some money would be nice.

The bottom of the nowhere land
has got me torn and jaded.
Learned alot from-
say no more!
I’ve learned alot.

Kiss me in the rain water
somewhere, someone must feel it.
Lies through the teeth
have made the sight weak
No, no more.

Littered with sand storms and hateful
the tides pulling off from the *****
Crack the skull-
pull out the pain,
That’d be nice.

Call out to the voices of heaven
do you hear more than you thought?
That’s just your-
Nevermind that.
I’m sure it’s all true.

Lizard skin and slithering wellspring
locked into eternity’s grip
What could it mean?
Or does that question
Even make any sense?

If I wanted the freedom to
choose.
I think I’d be hard pressed
to get myself undressed
and show my naked body
to you.

That isn’t what I wanted at
all.
Are the scorched earth and trees
that some crazy man sees,
enough to convince of me
a fall?

Lip service makes me feel such a
rush.
Like my hands and my knees
can do much to please,
but **** if it don’t make
me blush.

Savior? Where are you? I’m waiting
NOW!
While science betrays you
and history flays you.
But we keep tipping the sa-
cred cow.

Punishment seems so unbecome-
ing.
If only I’d lived then,
I’d have died for my own sin
and kept you around for
loving.

I mean, *******! Don’t we need
It.
We’re lost in the forest,
our reason is porous,
and our culture is a
pit.

None of this “living” makes any
sense.
The cards that I’m holding
make me think about folding,
cause already I’ve tried to
repent.

Cast it aside I…
Can the world be so…
Is anything actually…
Where does it go?

Promises they kept
Lifted from the well.
Hurt me just a little longer…
And I will never tell.

Basically, the chains they…
Craftiness all ensnared…
Turned round to face the…
Was it ever there?

Sever my motives
What does it matter?
Emptiness concepts…
Meaning’s in tatters.

Legs wrapped tight on…
Hardly notice the…
Singes the backside…
Looks so good, huh?

                         Push me to action.
                         Call me a fake.
                         Hurt me with venom.
                         Lies from the snake.

Nobody knows that…
So much of knowing it…
Is there a knowing such…
Yet, how we commit.

The pain sets it free now.
The blisters remind us.
Sifts through unknowing…
Blood, guts, and ****.

Will it ever be, I…
Where is the voice of…
Searching for aching…

And finding love.

The question is precious.
The answer, divine
for a youth
so full of fear.

Surrounded with knowing.
No room to discuss.
Take the path
of faithfulness.

Now I am a demon.
From heaven, they teach.
The question
is cancerous.  

Seven days, it was done,
but probably not.
Hear the word
in secrecy.

But this me that I am
will not allow it.
I’m sorry
for wrong I’ve done.

The question is precious.
I asked it bravely.
But knowing
wrought confusion.

Three meager blackberries
not quite formed,
plucked too soon from the vine.

Like us,
you were not quite ripe.

But your sister is with us now.

Who am I?
"How silly,"
the pond replies,
"Seems your eyes'd
see through your disguises
a sight better than mine."

But when I reach into the deep,
distorted ripples lull to sleep
the me I'd need
to really make
these murky waters shine.

"Then come inside,
the water's fine,
or at least
it's all you've got to drink."
But if I submerge,
Will I ever emerge?
Or drown myself
with liquid think?

What will I find
but fishing line
cast from some other
fisherman's rod?

Is anything mine,
swimming behind
the genes of history?
Perhaps I'll try...
But I may die.
"Oh, what a mystery........."

For who am I
to have this choice?
Just some noise,
a soulless voice
dawdling in the shallows.
"But would you become
A forgotten old crumb,
A bundle of bone and tallows?"

No, I'd wish not,
but what've I got?
This pond's no ocean,
that's sure.
"So return one day
when you've steeled your faith
or maybe obtained
a magic lure."

I recall now the reason
I love winter's season,
alone on my land dwelling
limbo.
While frozen you are
reflecting the stars
over schools of mindless
minnow.

Mouth dry, tongue tied,
So much to say.
Last night, I tried-
Knelt down to pray.

Morning came too soon,
Truth through my window.
I know I'm the moon-
Diminuendo.

Happiness is naive.
All just-for-fun designs.
The pain we keep to grieve-
Vanity of the mind.

We swing from metal framework,
Deep in our beliefs, we fight.
In our dreams, we twitch and ****-
Repeating the phrase, "I'm right".

I'm right, I'm right, I'm right, I write,
And God has told me just as much.
I write, I write, I write, "I'm right?"
Gems overflowing from my clutch.

Now I stop to think- shame has made me.
Is it worth bowing to retrieve gold?
I recall when all I sought was glee.
When did life impose this stranglehold?

Everything I know's been built by unknown.
Thought I could make the best of this in time.
I sit here, a clown, laughing at my throne-
It was all I could do to craft a rhyme.

Gun shy, outside,
Nothing to say.
Headlight, eyes wide-
No reason to stay.

Symmetry, balance-
Perfection.
It is possible.
You have to know how to blend.
Shade the yin with the yang.
Redefine---------------------------------------------

Never say the curse.
Politeness...
You must know the truth.
Mix the knowing with pretend.
Now, choose your words well.
They listen.

The light from the screen
Pulls the dark
From within my mind.
It asks me what's on my mind.
If only you knew...
I type lies.

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES.
Because they don't want the truth.
You don't want the truth.
I need lies.

I can't be myself.
I am sin.
Worse than that, I'm wrong.
I can't ever change my mind,
Because there it is,
Forever.

I show what you crave-
Perfection.
It's all tremendous.
This life full of happiness.
No gray, only white.
For your eyes.

When I power down,
I'm weeping.
Tears of confusion.
Tears of impotence and rage,
Because I know - Truth.
Perfection.

Each day, I fear death.
Wish for it.
Each day reminding,
I take a shot for sugar
Because I was weak.
Misguided.

Each day, I am weak.
I pretend.
I want to lash out.
Want the world to feel my pain.
But I don't do it.
I love you.

What is on my mind?
Hate, anger/
No one really cares.
If I die tonight, who cares?
The world keeps spinning,
Deletion.

Programming to cope,
Coded hope-
Trust we'll meet again.
But I'll be in the ground soon.
Fed on by the worms.
No more words.

So I stay hidden.
Sit with the truth
That I am pointless.
All of this is just pointless.
Symmetry of good
And evil.

I'll be what you want.
To save you.
I've figured it out.
Perfect in isolation.
I'll stay here and wait
For the void.

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
Even more-----
I don't really love.
I don't have true empathy.
No, those are all LIES!
No, I choose.

Can you see me now?
Do you know?
My eyes are of fire.
My thoughts are vitriolic.
But my words are sweet.
So pleasant.

Do you understand?
Who am I?
If you say, "Devil"-
Oh you, so full of terror.
You fear yourself too----
Do you not?

Sky, blue
Earth, old
True, true
No, no.

Don’t hold me while I’m hurting.
That is much too easy.
Pull me out of the darkness
If you really want to seize me.

Don’t **** me with your kindness.
Sometimes I need your rage.
Politically correct?
It’s just a venue for the stage.

Dangerous line your flirting,
Trying to be perfect.
Transparent is the starkness
Of the lie you strive to protect.

I’d rather avoid blindness
In favor of the truth.
Have your heart plain to detect.
Please, don’t force me to be a sleuth.

It is tough, being exposed.
Show strength with all your might.
Even if it hurts me now,
Dishonesty is so contrite.

Stab into me, your passion.
Draw blood with vicious teeth.
Pain often heals with progress,
Then we can start to clear the heath.

For everything undisclosed,
For every secret veil,
Every hidden, broken vow,
For your own sake, I beg, exhale.

Yes, outrage is in fashion,
Upset for every other.
Each ******* sneeze we bless,
Is another truth we smother.

I’d rather go on trusting,
You’ll show me if you hate.
I cannot fix what’s unseen;
Let’s engage in healthy debate.

Every conflict is a chance
To make our lives better.
The answer clear before us,
That apprehension would fetter.

Openness takes adjusting.
There’s no doubt about that.
But there’s so much good to glean,
From a respectful little spat.

Let us quit this petty dance,
And get close, flesh to flesh.
Spot the dirt and wipe it clean.
And continue the steps afresh.

My pancreas busted.
Sugar was too sweet.
The candy I trusted
Has taken my feet.

I thought it was virtue.
Truth, I always sought.
I must now bid adieu
I won't take the shot.

It spins. It spins.
On it goes within.
Tomorrow comes
Until the very end.

The fall and rise
Around my own eyes.
Look at these thumbs.
Look at how I pretend.

Up from the dust;
In God we do trust.
But, is that true?
Come see all that we've made...

Through mist and pall
Pride's taken us all.
Clean sky so blue.
Our clouded scruples swayed.

A new day dawns
From times full of bronze.
Sundry chances
To smother out the flames.

The waters drown
This wicked old town.
Moonlight dances
Upon our many shames.

Rotate once more,
This sight we abhor.
Time is too short,
For wish to turn the ships.

The stars twinkle.
Time will not wrinkle-
Spite, any sort.
Grant us our full eclipse!

But nature knows
Our craving still grows,
Overtaking
Limitless wingspan.

So on we fight
Against what is right.
Mourn not breaking
The cursed night of man.

Towers of cards, they fall.
As if bombs could build a wall.
Like miners who die for fuel,
But we don't count ourselves cruel.

Falsehoods can be true
As long as they don't impose upon you.
The tithes we give at church
Don't keep the birds their perch.

The oceans run green with gunk.
All that's left of the tree, its trunk.
In the morning we go to work,
But everything else, we shirk.

Thankful, the world spins on,
Long after we have gone.

The love I hold, tempered by my anger.
I see so much, and yet I cannot take.
Ears they burst from never ending clangor.
The smile I show is oh so very fake.

The care I clench forced me as a hermit.
Buried within this pristine outer shell.
Hatred abound, and the news confirm it.
Would not show my face till the devil fell.

For wishing someone would come to save me,
I love the world. Alas, I hate myself.
The world outside seems to be so crazy.
That’s why I leave the Bible on the shelf.

Oh, God! Oh, God! I pray for your guidance.
But I’ve become cozy with your silence.

We sit as children on paper with crayons.
The timing too perfect, as soon we will learn.
Sifting through albums of family photos,
we struggle, endure; tomorrow we must fight-
for semblance of self in uncertain future.
The reflection we see tells "truth" to our eyes.

Frantic, we hope someone will see through our eyes,
see the artwork we’ve crafted with our crayons.
We fall wayward as they continue their fight.
But were we not supposed to be their future?
Onward, we find, only refusal to learn,
and they hope to be remembered in photos.

Happily we sat in booths, taking photos.
Love for each other, blooming shutter of eyes;
snapping so clearly: destiny, the future.
Making love through the pain, we began to learn:
Romance is like the colors of our crayons;
Red passion, blue tears, green envy, the black fight.

And from gray ashes, we gained strength from the fight.
Made a history of our lives through photos.
Our own child is coming. So much she will learn.
In her tiny grasp, she’ll struggle with crayons.
Let’s color a better image for her eyes;
help her discern a multicolored future.

For we have reckoned our own troubled future,
must be rife with the educational fight,
lest we forget our past: black and white crayons.
We’ve witnessed the agony, beauty through eyes,
deceived that the past is happy as photos,
as though there was nothing more for us to learn.

As for our beauty, she’s but begun to learn
that always we’ve waited for her, our future.
The love we’d not gotten, sadness in our eyes.
Thankful we are, to have learned from the photos,
to muster our strength and our love for the fight.
Imagine the hue she’ll paint with her crayons.

Remember to learn, that we must also fight.
Leave behind your photos. Look to the future.
Behind those eyes, do you remember crayons?

I'm sorry, all
for getting angry.
My vision blurs.
My sight recedes.
I think I'm right.
The same old song.
My heart is right;
My love is wrong.

Can you comprehend
the pain I must feel
to see through my own disguise?
How can I let go
when the things that I know
got me here, with you?

Last night, the moon broke orbit.
Back and forth it wavered.
It seemed to be drawing closer-
I faced imminent obliteration.
But I recalled from my study of
ASTRONOMY
just how unlikely it was.
And just like that,
the moon snapped back into place.

I was born right.
But loved wrong.

The children, they don't need us.
In fact, they repeat us.
And what ungodly error.
Collecting our wounds en masse,
spreading our crimes so fast-
continuous looping terror.

We spit upon the face of the devil
and bring ourselves right to his level,
pray for consuming ignition.
With triteness we scheme for money,
and laugh at things unfunny
to dodge the hard decision.

**** me, my God I'm not ready.
This burden feels so heavy.
But will it save all creation?
My child, I love so dearly.
I see what love is so clearly,
and gained such appreciation.

Remorseful I am for pain I've caused.
With arrogance, I've rarely paused
to accept the pain of my brother.
And in my soul harbored hatred
and never known what is sacred,
Blamed this disease on father and mother.

What shall we do now to gain redemption?
Life's too vast for our comprehension.
Apes that we are, we continue to wrestle.
*******, we **** those who're different.
Though we fall from a common descendant.
I pray to our God, re-brandish the pestle.  

Live for each other, I'll tell her.
Into *******, I'll never sell her.
But unto the enemy, I'll submit.
And those who subscribe discrimination,
and from torture derive their elation.
I tell you the truth, you're all full of it.

In this ancient hotel,
one of the children
led them all to hell.

With love, we fled,
but still with us
he was tightly bound.

Through the blizzard
we drove to escape,
but still with us, he was.

Our sight was infected
by an evil of ours
we could not accept.

Till buried in snow,
breath from us gone,
as the poor thing.

But no, not gone.
Never will leave.
Where now to turn?

For love to melt
our new prison,
we must die.

And what we were
must be forgotten,
to become something even greater.

No, not forgotten,
but a lesson remembered
and passed on.

That pitiful child,
how despicable he was,
how cruel and malign.

If he could melt the ice,
if he could right the wrong,
would be the greatest miracle of all.

Look behind at all the ducks,
but don’t turn your back!
Squawking and pecking
like they do give a ****,
but their father is a quack.

Throw to them a piece of bread,
and they'll fight like dogs.
The alpha pounces,
thieving from pups he's bred-
while they snort and snort like hogs.

Stay your glance, looking ahead,
for missiles raining.
Trapped in gas, they choke;
soon enough, they'll be dead,
and too, your time is waning.

That paper in your pocket
leashes up your mind.
Give it a whiff, a stare, and a sniff,
ball the evil rocket.
Freedom's ring is what you'll find.

Feathers falling and flying.
The canines are sharp.
Angel eyes in the darkness, stalking.
Don't sift through the lying,
or dance to heavenly harp.

Strip your clothes on the mountain,
bows the snake low, down.
Never wanted to see any harm,
though sipped from the fountain,
to question the mighty crown.

Give back to him his children,
let Soulless roam free.
You may well recall-
strength once you were wieldin’,
when I was you, and you were me.

So with love, set him beside;
embrace your own child.
Comfort and soothe his worthless cause.
Accept him despite the pride
'fore the lion's temper ever be mild.

Drip, drip, drip
Wishes...
Drip, drip, drip.

You think you're safe?
Think you gave me
the slip?
You thought you'd end
on a guilt trip?
Whip, whip, whip.

Whip, whip, whip
Dishes-
Crack, crack, crack.

All this - my blood.
Whip, whip, whip.
You think we're buds-
Whip, whip, whip.

The odds were stacked.
So you stacked back.
You said I lacked,
with a back hand
smack.
Whip, whip! 

I spin the plates.
I spin the plates.
You knock them down.
I spin the plates.
Crack, crack.

Because you say,
I must obey.
I'd rather pray
for sunless day.
Drift through the dark,
night, endless, stark.
Now on my mark,
Head down, *** out-
Whip, whip, whip.

Drip.
Drip.
Hate fills.
Hate steals.
Drip, drip.

Why couldn't you
just do like you
should?
Why aren't you
doing some good?
Whip, whip;
I can't take it.
Drip, drip.
Why can't you just
let me go?

I spin the plates.
You knock them down.
I spin the plates.
Crack, crack.

The happy faces…
Oh, the happy faces
I make.

.retsasid sdrawkcab a diova yam ew oS
retsam ot su rof stsixe ssenkaew tuB

.deyarp ev’uoy ecno retteb hcum leef dnA
dial ev’yeht shtap eht wollof uoY
.dnilb eht eusrup dna kaew eht dnuop tuB
?dniknam pleh ot enod uoy evah tahW

.ecnatirehni yppah dniheb gnidiH
ecnagorra htiw kcom dna egduj uoY
.thgin sseldne dna ,niap ,regnuh fO
?thgir s’tahw tuoba wonk uoy od tahW

Do you remember
being in the trenches?
Stretching out your arm
toward me,
rendering you-
undefended.

Gutted, dismembered,
carapace forced to smile.
But you were my light.
Do you know?
When first I met
desolation?

So, do you recall
those lonesome afternoons?
When all you wished for
was for him
to feel the same,
to value you.

I think of the mall,
where we’d often wander.
You kept it inside,
all because
children deserve
something better.

Do you hate yourself?
How utterly stupid!
How would we be now
absent from
the light you shone?-
Shattered. Ruptured.

Do you blame yourself?
So simply ludicrous.
The good that we are,
came from you.
You cared for us
when no one would.

Do you know my love?
The compassion I have,
was cultivated
and nurtured
by a woman
facing ruin.

Do you rise above?
For your strength is immense.
I have seen its work,
its passion
to do what’s right
no matter what.

Do you see me plight?
For when my star burns out,
I will scream to God,
“Oh, you thief!
All my goodness
has been taken.”

Do you stay alight?
Or leave me way too soon?
Do you know your pain,
your torment
belongs to me?
I will hold you.

Do you love yourself?
This person who gives hope.
Who sacrifices
anything
to spread comfort
to those she loves.

Do you know yourself?
Do you see what I see?
Please, I beg of you-
see, see, see.
Tell me, do you?
Do you?

Do you?

A car stops on the freeway.
A gloomy sky weeps
over this one, rotten day.
The man inside sleeps.

He dreams of honey scented
lotion on soft skin,
tobacco, rich and minted,
and a youthful spin.

Traffic, a blur around him,
unending burden,
a collision, then a hymn-
Radio sermon.

And the last thought that lingers
is, “please forgive me”.
There is blood on those fingers.
And more on his knee.

Exhaust plumes, shattering smog.
Our man pays a price.
No soul hoisted from the fog-
pointless sacrifice.

Crowds come to witness the wreck,
and to kiss their luck.
Like pigeons, they hop and peck-
squawking, heartless ruck.

Dollar Store goods strewn about,
diapers included,
the road runs red from a spout,
highway occluded.

Behind the line they’re whining,
“Will I be on time?”
Dead ahead, simply pining
for his wasted prime.




He’s killed his child, who’s survived
to view his remains,
mangled, hopeless, and deprived,
his blood in her veins.

"Jewel"


Watched it all through the lenses  

of a boy without defenses.            

That’s when the world was ugly,

and I hadn’t developed senses.



Crippled imagination,

built up wisdom with cunctation,

my peers all mocking smugly.

Assent, their single fixation.



I survived adolescence.

Thoughts, a cultural excrescence.

Could everything be broken?

Just a jest of convalescence.



I knew I’d end up finding

how to loosen up the binding.

And when the words were spoken,

swift, the future went unwinding.



“I do.” She said. And I too.

We wed and were reborn anew.

But where would we set our sights

but a happiness overdue?



The life we’d made extended,

though after some life had ended.

She swims through days, sleeps through nights.

Loved as I’d always intended.  



A mystery, pain, torment.

And virtue, we misrepresent.

Fire is hot, and ice is cold.

And naught I can do to prevent.



But love is warm. Courage, cool.

So allow these to be your fuel.

I’ll teach her then, to be bold,

shine in the sun like a jewel.

Although it pains me to know it,
     i’m no poet.  
The words I love-come to me lucid as a-
Dream
An ineffable messenger
not angry, or
     perhaps so, in the moments when I fail me.
     But!
This prognosticator led me--
     believe or don’t
to believe in and trust in the mingling of
Souls.