What is my job at end of day
All hand or claw will clench my teeth
and make the enemy of me
Sicken with the thought

Yum and dumb
I am Kerouac at Verdun
I rhyme and dine
and live and die
and speak and shout
and sputter and cry
and happy
and sad
and glad
oh man


oh man when upon I reach that hue
somewhere between vermilion and due

east of where I remember clear
Santa Clara and Oakland then

Everything shifts into red
I've been in this maw of waking dread

Since half past eleven.

Coming out and going in,
Breathing
IN out
back again

Waiting, waiting
Slumber soon
Awake again,
Back at noon

Roll and roll repeat and pleat
I cannot write ******* sonatas or Beethoven I cant even rhyme a ******* word to itself with all this technology nobody will hear me

I don't know
If you cared enough to find this

But every night now

I think of La La Land
That night I knew I would lose my job
When you convinced me to stay

And why I cried so much
Why I over-empathized

It was me and you.

Im still trying to figure out
If I miss you
Or just the idea of it

But every time I see you now
I still smile
And you do too

I wonder if I'm the only one
With ache in their chest

I wonder if I'm the only one

Who wishes love took deeper roots

I wonder if I'm the only one

Who still thinks of the beach

And the way we just lay together

When I laid in the sand
And another voice is with me

She asked me tonight,

"who was your first love?"

All I could see

Between closed eyes
Was your face

How hard it is to reach out

Between the wrought iron gates

And take a hand

That seeks to save?

But as He severs the ties

And destines us for different paths

I hear the devil himself

Understand his distance from God

You were so close to complement

Yet far too tangential

We now suffer from acute

Dispensation of angle




I do not know how long I will wait

Until I can wake

And not miss you.

Not dream of the same foggy Venice

Or the same question,

"Why, Why, Why"

Or stay up fighting mind to erase you

And the image of your smile

Or the sound of your laugh

Or how much you loved the way I ran my fingers along your neck


There's not a poem long enough in the world

To justify this

And the surrender to God that must replace

The emptiness you left.

Hello,
No one.

Hello
mistaken one

hello friend in the lost pages

hello friend in the archives
with a careful pen
and soft fingers

do me a great favor
remember these bits

remember this:

"Ye, the ancient ones
in sifting dirt, do decay--

their words, their words,
the same grey
sky
which told the tale of
a future you
stuck behind the window
caught within the sill
the rain
that makes you feel the same"

as that lonely peasant boy,
arranged
by the callous night
and obeyed

the command--
the soldier
the sword
the bullet
the bolt--

Zeus, even which at highest worship
could not consume--

even Apollo, which better thinker than I
decided to draw the universe through

and Dionys
the chaotic hue
the uncomfortable ache
to every truth

you will know the dialectic
you will know the dichotomous
you will know poetry
you will know truth

Give to me in ancient song
give to them me in my truth
give to them the imperfection
give to them the nasty
the fake
the lost
the snake
the pain
the world
the whole
ordeal

Were I not in love with you,
The rivers would run dry--
The grass, grown gold with age
Where hills rattle with the cry
Of those blades

I would I were in love,
And float upon your mists
Travel to far lands
And lost to all your minds

With you my love,
I would dance
Wither my voice away
Calling upon your name--

The pungent fruit of tropics,
The shining jewel of cave
Your voice guides me as a dog
Garnering the scent

I would lie upon the fields
And tell you how
Humans are like tulips

Bright buds dancing in the wind

You smile, and it was good.



Love I will span the gaps between the world
I will fill the empty oceans
With thoughts of you
I will leave no electron unturned
No atom unexcited
In the prospect of knowing you

Do not give up on my spine,
On my bones,
On this calcium

On vital thoughts
And serious winds
Do not walk away from the field
And leave them in the rain.

Could I tell you,
That you were supple
as the string
that guides the long days
and the careful nights
the musculature of the mice
that comb the fields
looking for the loamy place
there we sat

Could I tell you
That you were the soft
gentle breeze
that tousled my hair
angered my nose
upturned
and sneezed
no compliment to give
yet constantly
there

when I hold a ruby in my hand
or a pearl by your ear
it is you I see

I cannot guide these words the same

I will machinate
But never create
the same feeling
you gave

The soil does not loam today
it is still and packed
at long last
it rests

The sun is high
the fields filled
the roofs shackled with doubt
the sadness that enters the valley
with the foggy morning
and leaves
an empty dusk

with but the sparking ruby
of Mars
or the twinkle
of Venus
and I am all at once, lost.

The pleasant south wind
A family of oak tree
waves to me goodbye

Soon it'll be me
Staring down the nebulas
The contortions of the sky
The stars that wander by
In my eye
Bright
And almost divine

Just practice nodes
Trailing the wheels
Rotating per Fortune's minute
Decisions

This place
The vessel I will abate
At moments end I feel the hand of fate
RIP and tear my string from the yarn
And born again
Somewhere in the galactic arm

Why do you whisper, green hands?
Why tell my ears they have soul
Why tell them,
anything about the world.

Who do you speak for, Green Man?
Who says these sinners are cold?
Who says they may just got lost down the road...

What do you grow there, green ******?
What filthy soils do you sow?
What can be glad--be glad to give no more...

When do you see it, green land?
When will we see it alone?
When we will know, we won't need cry no more...

How long to get there, green hand?
How many seconds to go?
How will I know,
My world is on its own...