like  love  heart  
time  oh  sun  
long  just  mind  
know  old  life  
way  night  need  
light  man  true  
eyes  place  day  
soul  water  rain

In desperate need of water or food
one would not need love.

In search of the sun the moon and the stars
one would not need love.

In the absence of shelter and warmth
one would not need love.

If blinded by the truth and stumbling down
one would not need love.

If cast away on a foriegn shore poor and broken
one would not need love.

If drowning in a sea of hardened tomorrows
one would not need love.

If sleeping and barely breathing in the dark
one would not need love.

Into fair maiden stone walls this tale is woven.
Just down past a landmark that together they'd passed a thousand times.
Here now, for the first time in twelve warm seasons he passed it alone.

Continuing and projecting forward he raced against his own fading star.
Seeking a style of justice that may not even exist.

While inwardly imploding large fractions at a time.

Dying the death
of a king
turned breathless pauper
thats recently watched
all the grains of sand
pass south
through orbs of glass
towards the grave.

Reaching to the heavens
from the floor
entwined in wails
and deep sunken moans
that labor in pangs
of anxious moments
which last for hours
and are only ever superseded
by short fits
of shaky sleep.

Hope and its former entitlements
simply derailed-
shattering each
of an un-numbered tomorrows
leaving them void
of how it was,
even though
that may have
been better
for sure.

However
when grand vistas
are moved by heavenly verse
or demonic desires
and the clouds are blown
east toward the sea,
its only done
so that the past-
has a chance
to dissipate.

Then appearing
far to blessedly late
is the painting
under the painting
of that holiday
when things seemed stronger
When sadly
it now clearly seems
we were silently
slipping away from one another:
one sliver of space at a time.

These hollow eyes tell a different tale
of a darker more nefariously slanted reality
that nobody understands but you.

How it was this- then that
and then that and that
then finally what its become.

A charade orchestrated by synapse and fear
as well as a lack of experiential experience
that I  followed earnestly with my heart.

The unbearable weight of truth weakens resolve
bending intentions like magic bends the mind
until all energy flows away from the source.

The bridge now rests in water
with eddy's creating and dissipating
where the metal meets the cool cool water.

No longer can the other side be reached
looks like we'll camp here for the night
they'll be no crossing the divide today.

So Happy That Your so **** Happy
That now I'm lost and kind of sappy
Then again its all so flimsy
That I can't begin to fathom whimsy
Or sense the point of all the scuttle
And the dark spice of that laced rebuttal
Heard like a shot popped across the middle
Go down to the river and sing hey ****** ******
While you wish you were quick and svelte and nimble
And could dance like a black cat on the green thimble
At a lounge by the sea down deep in the night
Where I'm never wrong and you're never right.