I fell asleep
and slipped into a dream
And found myself
on the white hot sand
of the Coptic seas
Where the wind
filled my soul
and brought back
life to me

I still hear the foreign
words so strange
The frustration of existing
The unique smiles that are so real
The mistrust in every handshake
Never any rain

I've been dreaming a lot lately all about my past
Like a ghost it haunts me
everytime I close my eyes

More like a resurrection
A raising of the dead
that I am not sure about

Like a train that's run out of track
A shooting star kissing Earth
A one way ticket as far
as it can go

Can't you see what those dreams have been doing to me

When the spring
of love is over

Summer's heat and love
drags on

By fall
more than the leaves fell

As for winter ?
Oh whale !

I will never
be great ,

but ,

That won't stop me
from giving . . .

a great effort !

How can those moments
timeless in time
sweep through your soul
and bring a smile
to your lips after
the years have been overlaid in pages past

The aches casked in heart
have aged into the deliicate vintages
of love , companionship ,
and fellowship
whose sweet taste on the
lachrymose memories brings a soothing loss
and peace of mind

Every smile remembered
Every soul searching embrace
Those unforgetable kisses
The last goodbyes
The funerals attended

As I sit in the silence
bleeding invisibly
swallowed in sorrow
wondering why was I
cursed to live beyond so many so much better than
I

To all those Fridays since my birth
the then and the now
let me gather no more
than a bouquet to fit in my hand upon the chest of my last despair

The tendrils of chords
climb wearily

Sparkling molecular envisions

Cadenza , with dedicated backing

Thousands strong star struck

vibrato reverberating

encompassing compassion

the chills and tears flow

as another star explodes

in the tyranny of

vacuous  silence

What ?

Turn it back around

Yes you can

You could , or drown in alcohol

I'm really not into being a red rubber ball today

So don't bounce your agony off my ears

I'm leaving , again , yes I know

The morning  , I guess , good as any time

Let me ask  , would you , I mean if I lost my head would you remember me ?

Huh ! well that's better than a stick in the a'. . . I mean eye

I wonder what was in Jesus' head the day he died

Yeah , probably so , it helps to be devine

Yeah I wonder about that too , how would I stand up

I'm sure I would fold like a dead man's hand

That's true , I guess all of us has a cross we have to bare in someway

Well I better get to bed , it's after two and I have to get up at daylight and hit the road

Yes , it been great to know you too , I won't forget

Maybe the fates will make our paths cross again

Sure man , see ya

Bless you too

Only fools
can be fooled

Everyone has time
But few
can recognize "The" Time

All things are made
manifest by light

The night will shine like the day , for darkness is as light to you (Psalm 139:12)

So we articulate somber
Lay faceup in the watery dew
It is no longer our concern
Whatever it is you do

The cycles of sun are fleeting
They no longer enthrall us so
The moments per eternity go leaping
But we have no will to go

All of the last tears fell
Upon the grass or snow
All of the goodbyes sail
all of the memories let go

Long after the stones have crumbled
When no longer the names you see
Perhaps then you will have stumbled
over an uncovered bone of me

So enjoiy the flowers of life
before the winter's chill sets in
Just savor the scent  of  life
Before it comes crashing down in an end

It's not that I have
nothing on my thoughts

It's that my thoughts
lead to nothing

He worked his whole
life for nothing
Often twenty hours
plus per day
Saturdays and Sundays were included
and every holiday

All he had for his efforts
was the money
given out on every
payday
Often coming home to shower , handing over the check , and he was on his way

The days turned into decades
They flashed by so fast
Now all he has to show for it is a broken down
body that will not much
longer last

Believe me when I say this
Believe me because it's true
Believe me because
my finger is pointing straight at you

He never spent a dime
He never had the time
So others took it
upon themselves
to empty out the mine

One day he woke up all alone
Except for all the pains
The physical ones were excruciating
The mental ones the same

His once proud
sensibilities
Now stood for nothing more
But that may be how God wants it
when found knocking on his door

Believe me when I say this
Believe me because it's true
Don't waste you life on nothing
Or for nothing will you show

I was always infused by the quartz of time
I balanced love in separate hands ; cut , aching , refusing to heal

Happiness was measured out one grain of sand at a time
My measuring cup runneth over

My thoughts are bleached  bone white .
But I have preserved the marrow of my ways

I am the walking cacti
that push rocks in the sand creating the trails of tears that never reach the ground

I am desert
Full of the emptiness
that exists on the face of clocks and time

I am one grain of sand
The silence of the wind
I have no foundation
I'm tendered to my whims

I ran the race so I could win
But only lost before I won
I crossed the line to be the first
But came in last in every way
You don't have a clue as to know about what I have to say
Just remember that when you have done it all
There's nothing left  
except to pass away

How great is the Love of Christ ?
It's not limited to the four corners of the cross
For his love is rooted in a rocky foundation
And it reaches around the world in both directions
And is always reaching up in  a Heavenly direction encouraging us to follow

.
.
.
Tucked away

   down deep


    buried under pages of memories



under folds of aging grey/gray cells



where we put them when no one was looking



then we piled days upon days on top of them



until one by one they became forgotten




like the names etched on stone in the forest of monuments



such are the secret sorrows that go to the grave with us
.
.
.
and only God knows

The freedom of a sparrow
is the air under it's wings
The freedom of the wild horse
is the plains that recede
The freedom of a choice
is the choice not made
The freedom of love
is knowing you had no more to give

Winter is ending
and I am looking ahead
Even when winter has
one foot in the grave
It's not to be a stave

A sparrow without love
is a bird without feathers . . .
and cannot fly

A wild horse without love
is a horse without a plain . . .
and cannot run

A choice made without love is reckless
and bound to be wrong

Love , knowing you held back ,
leaves you little to hang on

Light
.
.
.
.
the purpose of light is not to cast shadows
.
.
.
.
but to illuminate the path before us
.
.
.
.
so we do not stumble over our faults in darkness
.
.
.
.

Whack the h off humbled
"And he umbled in the eye of the thorn."

Bomb the n off moon
" And he lived so far out in the sticks the cows had their moo shipped in .

Split the a and t
"The da ta was ta da'ed

Look at that sunset !
Looks like an artist
spilled all his paint
on the sky . Look at how the rays of light have turned the wheat to gold .
Not even a rainbow
could add to the beauty before us . A gloaming grandeur .

Depression :
A. The depressing rememberances
or recollections
of the ultimate
black hole
before the
big bang
B. The conflict
of a body
that wants to live
and a mind that
wants to die

Even if one inherited eternity of what value would it be without's God's love . It would be Hell .

My labor of words
My words of labor
Far into the night
looking for the common denominator

Like a sculptor
and his chips of marble
Words fall from my thoughts
Off my tongue they
will tumble

Envious of those whose words can progress
Eloquent in manner
their efforts so blessed

I only dream of a maybe ,
some day
But it seems all of my efforts only change
straw into hay

Perhaps no such work
will ever exist
Still I move on
I endure , I persist

Walking hand in hand
Long wet kisses in the night
Laughing over nonsense
Reading love letters by candlelight

Breathing in the salty ocean air
Walking through the pastures
with wild flowers
everywhere

Holding the love that holds yours back
Making future plans
without a future
Sort of like the life
of the trapeze *******

Back and forth
until one day you fall

I see you wither on the rocks as a seed in your despair

The fire of depression burning away all that you had for which you cared

I squat beside flames as witness to the lack of any warmth to share

So burn away the moments as I ask was there nothing more so rare

Nothing now dear poet remaiins other than the ashes upon your lips

But this Phoenix will not rise anew to this world today

Something I will learn to accept that you chose to go , not stay

I tried to cut the wind once
But no mater how hard I slashed
It was all a futile effort
In the end I was abashed

It grew angry with me
It's patience grew so thin
Then the cold wind cut right through me
as if foolishness was my only sin

I was a busy bee in clover
I would hover above the pretty flowers
Drinking their sweet nectar in
and passing away the hours

The blossoms were so many
The fields so ever wide
I shared all of my golden pollen
From petal to petal
I flied

Some flowers tried to hold me
Their alluring scents filled the air
They dazzled in many colors
Sashayed with seductive flare

Then they tried to finger me
Tried to attach their silky strings
But when they thought they could handle me
I let them have my sting

Buzz off . . .

I come to paint rainbows
upon your heart of
depression . . .

To turn your lips into emerald coast isles

Where light bleaches away the dark
and purifies the sand between your souls

Let me caress new feathers
of flight
that provides the freedom to soar in the winds from
distant shores

Where every breath is
a possibility of dreams come true

Bright yellows and greens
Orange and teals
As you walk the edge
between red and blue
and bleed royal purple
for those to see
who always weighed
their anchors of doubt
in your sea of despair

I'm going so fast . . .
I can't get my feet off the ground
My mind cha-chinging
With no thoughts to go around
Everything on you girl
You turn and twirl
Ah-Ha ! Yah-Hey !
Blowing smoke rings
makes it all seem okay

Winter rose in the curved road
Even in the golden sunlight
Your smoky breath
belies the warmth beneath the cold
For tonight's lover
Is on your side cover
Ah-Ha ! Yah-Hey !
Going so fast
somebody has to pay

Sometimes . . .

broken bones

and

broken hearts

don't grow

back straight

The token of emotions
laid bare upon
the tongue of my
ineptitude
plague the awkward
days of youth
when all are thrown
to the lions of love
to be devoured
. . . do any survive ?

Love ?
Does she give you time for questions before pulling you under ?

It was Tuesday morning


I was thinking what have I got to lose ?


Lace , wilting roses , ***** sunshine .

Has it gotten to the point
you make it hard

What we are made of
is but our lingering past

The yellowing days of our future that was to be

Our love was not to be just another

Friday evening
What have you got to lose

I know your secret

But I lost the key

Why do you have to make it so hard ?

I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

. . . as I sit on the dunes looking at the sea . . .

I contemplate what was , what is , what is due

I watch the waves come in and crash , recede , and crash again

So were my chances that came in waves , receded and crashed again

My life's foundation resides on these impermanate dunes

I cannot stand for long on the shifting sands ,
changing with the winds of time , before I am forced to move

Motion made me . . .
The vibration of the small details
I know you know but you never told me

I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

But that doesn't matter anymore

I weave the shroud of aches that last
With the threads of friendships past
My ocean remains so deep
In the remnants of the words I choose to keep
I collect the smiles from lips I see no more
Left to wonder where to implore
Another thread has come to edge
The end and exit
from the stage
No longer do they open doors
Nor leave a shadow upon my floor
No there no longer comes those knocks
As if the hands have stopped upon the clocks
So in my mental loom of care
I leave another row of thread with much more room to spare

They will bury me in my shroud
Someday sunny, perhaps in cloud
And I will be richer beyond the grave
In the memories of friends that I have made

Nothing like southern summer heat and red clay dust on the sweaty skin of reality .

It would **** me now and notch another nick on the barrel of time with a defiant smile of victory
Why wouldn't it , never having known defeat making all bow down in submission to their accepted fate

All those fearless words of defiance . "Go not gentle into that goodnight "

I wait on the rain due upon the last breath of night
Just like it waits on my last breath of life
Come thunder , I see not your light . Let me feel the vibrations of the voice of God . Let me walk this way alone together

I'm thinking of the edge
The words you so cut to form
The critical eye that captured every detail
I marveled at the brilliance
of the most mundane
you raised to glory
One
. . . two
. . . . . . three
I relish the dark
secure in my isolation
I am left to my own
Godly imagination
. . . my magic carpet that takes me back into my past
to those moments good and bad , sweet and sour ,
etched into history , words chiseled into stone

The most isolated city in the world
Only fitting you would plant your roots and thrive
. . . one
. . . . . . two
. . . . . . . . . three

How can I read your poetry
when even in silence
I fear the most
Life , a twisted cornucopia
of blood , hair , bone
I hear the prayer calls
and hide in the shadows
The narrow streets
have eyes hidden in cloth
always watching . . . in silence
Even in my disguise I stand out . . . a foreigner
I smell different , walk different , am different
The white hot sands are covered in ashes
The ashes of dreams and the lives that are no more

How can I read your poetry when I am living in the bowels of the words

The lines become those narrow streets of hostile intent

The paragraphs become those eyes always watching me everytime I turn around

Here on the rooftop late at night there's that **** silence as thick as the sticky heat that I can't escape

How , I ask so disconcertedly , can I even get beyond the title

Maybe the plane won't be delayed tomorrow

I pray a Christian prayer before first call

. . . . how ?

Some will walk away their cares as if they walk up or down the stairs into or out of oblivions face as their mask of poetry falls from place onto the floors with checkered squares that are covered and littered with their words like flares from phrases of I don't care punctuated with the stuffings from ripped apart stuffed bears flogged by improper English weilded stares as imperfect hands in braile will yell skin deep in demeanor not so hard to tell or keep and no doubt to all I have to say as I wave my hands goodbye good day.

We were hard wired
not easily bent
Loaded down with time
The hours were not easily spent
Full of anxious glance
Irritating sigh
Thinking all the while
How could we get high
Piled into a fast car
Laughing and grins
We were bound
Tied to sins
We paid the price
We split the dues
Watch the wheels spin
Watch the boys in blues
Oh , sweet summer air
Eliminates all our cares
Make it legal
Nay , all they say
Oh , sweet summer air
Eliminated all our cares
Oh Oh Oh Oh
Sweet summer air

Retribution - hangover

Divisive - Mack the Knife

Walls - fear

Incomprehension - failed state of mind

Reality - life

Death - retribution

I used to have hangovers
now I have retribution

I used to be divisive
it was because of fear
so I built walls around me

Reality was my failed state of mind . Life was incomprehensable

Especially death until I realized that death is retribution and one has to live after death to have retribution

Life is meatloaf
King of all leftovers
Enjoy
Make it so

.
..
...
....
Rush Limbaugh

born between two sunsets
dust and sand in shoes
mojave bottled blues

sang under deserted stars
as time eternal flew
the roadrunner blew

sidewinder breath
black-tailed jack rabbit's foot
Fingernails caked in soot

never swore on luck
used a rock for his head
as he laid on the cold sand's bed

everything he made held between thumb and nail
like the posters tell

between the hard lines
he was forced to cross
between last breath and loss

between a moonrise
chilling sunrise fate
opens a starry gate

restless hidalgo dunes
slowy covering stones
and wind swept bones

I just wanted to initialize you
Instead you made your acronym at home

Did I say
I love you . . . (no)

Not even from the
highest low ?
Nor from the
lowest high ?

My love is running up the hill
A wolf sleeping in the grass
A silver stream running fast in dreams
A piano in pain

I hear the hounds of love
The clicks of red shoes
The exhalation of locomotive breath
In the winter's gale

Only one way out
can't walk out the door
Eleanor Rigby
Elizabeth Reed
They don't exist anymore

Time passed me by like the skipping stones of my youth on the waters of life

blue jeans are made of these
  1. Belt loops
  2. Rivets
  3. Perhaps patches on the
     knees
  4. Zippers
  5. Button fly instead
  6. Frayed ends from
     countless days on end
  7. Indigo dye
  8. Dried blood that never
     came out
  9. White paint speckled
     about
10. All the memories made
11. Treasures that were
      blue jean made

He walks into the room
Looks side to side
Wants every one to notice
He's got David Bowie eye

He steps onto the stage
He's not into raves
He's got one blue eye
He's the latest rage
He's got David Bowie eye

Starts out with a howl
Comes down to a low growl
He throttles your attention
You feel hypnotized
He's got David Bowie eye

Like a thumderstorm
Comes the light before the boom
Explodes on stage
But he never never moves
Unless he captures you
In his David Bowie Eye

I was eighteen
a twisted vine and green
I went to California
I had dreams

I rode trollys
I was full of folly
I crossed the Golden Gate
Broke off sacred holly

I wanted to find myself
In and of itself
I found out who I wasn't
An inconvience of oneself

As hard as I tried the
tears for nothing I cried
My blood wasn't home
Yes you are ! I lied and lied and lied

I'm nothing special
I'm not spatial
A fish gulping air
A lost looking ******

So go back home
Feel it in the bone
So I rode the bus
California ! I moan


(Eureka ! I have found it !)
California State Motto

I would love to love you
(your quick and wicked mind)
Oh , but turns the page of time
I lay you down in rhyme

I lay the shackles of time
at my feet
Every day/link a witness
to the futility
and the uncertainty
of the doom we are
determined to meet

It's my moment
to whorsip the silence
When the nothingness
rages deep within my
darkest soul

People speaking without
the vibrations of truth

Whose mental motions
are bound to the rusted loops of determination

The digital hacksaw bytes
the grooves of litany
sending shivers of silver through the cloud of crystal clarity

I lay the shackles that
denoted my existance
at my feet and step over
the finality forever

For silence will be my final refuge . Let me lay down in ground and pull the gray clouds over me and go to sleep forever

Once upon a time
these many years ago

I never dreamed
I would be the one

The face in broken
mirrors with the ****

A lone voice whispering
A call out in artic ice

The nighthawk's spirit
Dive and flash

Over and over
again and again

In darkness sure
swift and enveloping

I guess you never know
No , remains the mystery

Hush ! I'm listening
Waiting on the voice

Can you hear it ?
The Midnight's Voice ?

(Sigh)

It's been so long
so very long .

I dug the holes
and covered the acorns
with the disembodied
spirit of hope

Maybe in death
life would live

I hold on tight
to the frozen
dawns of winter's
demise

The days grow
in rows of  
interpretude
Collecting
pole dancing soltices
and bi-polar
equinoxes
chardonarily
intoxicated
in literary analyses
from southern France


Ah , but those acorns
so full of promise
Maybe they will oak out
and I can someday
be the earthern
reality infusing
the return of
spring again

I am the emptiness
between the page
The long nights labor
without a wage

I am the text
without a spine
Electronic beasts
line after line

I am the way
backwards : a yaw
A keychain made
from a rabbits paw

I am the wind
that makes sailors dream
The separation of milk
and all of it's cream

I am the footsteps
across the hot sand
A ringless finger
attached to your hand

I am the breath of life
given to you
The taste on tongue
The morning dew

And by now you're
asking me for a clue
Sorry about that
It's left up to you