When the stars decide to leave.  
In the sky of a world my mind weaves.
The ghost there are not really ghost.
Just forgotten angels fluttering around this starlight coast.

Constellations lose their specks.
Darkness and separations distance the flecks.
Creating new constellations.
In heavenly reveries of my imagination.

I stand on the shoals of your dream ocean.
Waiting for your wave and to feel your emotion.
The way your touch made me alive.
Together forever as we both arrive.

Above us:
Wrong time,
wrong place.

For now, it’s safer
keeping our secrets.
Tension builds,
and in just a bit
it will all pour out.

Don’t look into my eyes
if you don’t want to share your story.
With every gaze, the gap is closing.

Something unvoiced is flowing.
The pendulum sways.
Is there life left?
Is it still a warm place,
or an illusory glow?

If you don’t want to let someone
into your territory,
please turn your head,
turn your eyes.

Seeing right through, you betray
who you were
and who you became.

in ventura every night you leave us outside
post pandemic with this law
that these people have leveraged
interest into the legislature
we exist confronting a housing collapse,
mortgaged slavery of our seconds
titled as dead parcel's with violated civil rights frames
the assault on the person is this eminent domain
of failed body boundry by the non profits and legislator irwin

thanks for the prison break and bondslavery visits with the hillside stranglers, green river killer disciples and mimics and government corruption fixated and ownership of the lightswitch and realestate  of my country.  i am not for sale

Thought I was gonna turn my life into something great
Wanted to be loved
Take a deep breath and I Wait
I wanted to be loved
I wanted to be great
I wanted to be your everything and so much more
I wanted to be the man you were always looking for
The one you could not live with out
Forever
Together we would figure it out
I held my breath
Took your hand
Gave you all that I am
Believed in greatness
Now I can’t believe how sour the taste is
How could you do this to my heart?
Waste this
I thought we had something special
Something grand
I thought we spoke a language only lovers could understand though her we are
This side of the bed seems so far
I wake up every day not knowing who we are or how I got these scars
We had forever in our hands
Now you’re just a somebody I do not understand
I held my breath
Thought I found love
A best friend
In the end
I exhaled

Tonight, I lie in bed and
scribble in a black spiral
notebook.
Why is cruelty easy for
some? Like laying down
a card.

One of my three cats,
Mojo
sits sleepily on
my old maple desk.
She is all black.
The computer screen is
black.
So are the speakers,
microphone,
and a coffee cup that
sits on the desk.

Above my dresser is a
quote by Hemingway.

"There is nothing to writing.
All you have to do is sit down
at a typewriter and bleed."

It's on black paper.

I've had the room set up
this way for over a year.
I'm just noticing all the
blackness.
Midnight in Nod.
It could be because I miss
my daughter.  She's seven.
All the black fades away when
I think about her smile
and those eyes that laugh at the
rain.

I notice that my shirt
is emerald green, with a
few drops of red.

Plop
Plop

Plop.