Something's up
With the right places
And plasters I can tell
Which one's the island
In the distance
Of the expanse of your parades
Your merit and bandit of pirates
The semblance for the redacted statement
Edit in this winter
Summertime
The hard lines that I told daddy
Ahead of the dreams of rain
Under the thunderous clap
And some laughter
With the hail of popcorn
On my lap
A failed abstrusity
A strange reality
Different shades for race

Love opens doors
Moving to and fro
Swinging innocently

I was in loneliness
Like a fish swimming in an ocean
Only looking for other fish in a solitary ocean
To me everyone is different
When they are together
In the rounds of this blue world
Where the tint of the sky
Callously hangs over the cloud
You can touch the firmament of the diamond sky
As long as you can hold your ground
In your lonely air

Looking at the rain
I saw the clouds a little foggier
Must have been my glasses

The simplicity of tradition
Is worshipping every
Religious revelation without volition

The cold air
Blows through my
My love for the
Throne
Subject to exile
By the dishonest heir
Just tarry a while
And I'll find another
Minority in
Pejorative terms
Of Separating
Love
With Isolation

Inherent madness, or good or evil
Everyone is questioning my devilish innocence
Airbrushed the evidence, vanishes with the vain goodness
Proud of a crime I'm an asylum to broken bad
Crime Punishment tends to the children of terrorist acts to schoolkids
Revolutions a part of the agenda of educated sordid seditions
The propagandist flag yells "Act", taking it for what it's worth
Act before the protest, the run after the morning, I have left my clock on stop
I looking for an eternal reflection in a tomorrow I'll never see
Jungle-run and humming puns, hammering drunkards with reruns
I'm rivetting with the genesis and my enunciated elegies with the dour dry
Or for someone in dearth need and the falsities and fallacies
Peacefully and four friable fiends, that crumbled with the atomic bomb
So, why are selling streets in the dead-end dreads
The locks of a speakeasy, the talking eyes, the messages beeps intermittently, telling me to sell the bomb
In the jungle rage of the rhyming of the ****** bombs, that I find peace and fantasy with truth and profanity
Peach diesel kick out from underneath, **** my destiny and fears
Burn up with the gas, with the members of the fraternities of the derelicts with freewill crooks
Gravitating towards the era of laughter and mirthful madness
Burning money and the diesel at the same combustible pace
What's oil without fish food?
Water surfacing across the painted picture
Of the absence of truth
Inflammable, both of these items of greed in a box of full of things
The thespian greed in the sequestered dream, quoted by the *******
Quantifying these Swedish dreamers and sycophants and circadian  hillbillies

Family y'know feels nice
I know this is what life
Has led up to or culminated in
A suspense thriller, a job, an income

I have let go of the fast life
Drugs, liquor, and cigarettes
And exchanged it for a slow poison
A beauty in bed, two children, groceries that last a week

Three pounds of butter in the fridge
I have kept in there, so that she burns
It slowly on the stove
Covering my pancakes with it

I feel good, I haven't felt this way
The cars, trucks, and rickshaws move
All pass my way and the stares of the nearby folk
Mix with the bedlam, I can see a lovely lady's heavy gait

It is all clear to me
That I am married to all of these things
And I cannot divorce myself from my chores
Washing dishes and cleaning the floor, a poor metaphor I know

Soon I'll go home to the countryside
Swing from a hammock in the careless breeze
Before I swing under a fan with a noose around my neck
They'll say, he died, but what a shame.

He's no man if he cannot swallow the poison
Day by day

In this sensual beauty
Of revelry in the bedsheets
We touch the bridges of our nose
Within the tensions, we burst forth into the forlorn festering
Of our souls, to close to connect, civilized with each other
Maybe, the sensitivity keeps us together
The masculinity telling of how you're mine
Our legs intertwined in sublimity
No wonder, I'm weak at the knees
The weeks have gone by without another loving mind
Craving for you seems just right inside
The same face produces the expressions
I fell out of love with, and the exhaustion can be liberating
The sensual beauty tells me
It takes one to know one
In the deepest desires, I do want you to come back
While my other alter ego sexualizes the image
Of your oppression and looking for more chemistry
Seems so wrong, and I'm out of time
Culpable, but, I got you out my mind
I want you just the way you are
Perverted, displeased, angry
The propositions got me so far
And I still say, it takes one to know one
Why do we keep wiping the tears?
To keep those fears away from reality?
Maybe, we can try new positions that hurt more than they pained
This distinction is getting me on
Busted by the very thing that turned me on
Well, it takes one to know one
You catch me at my every plothole
You know like it apoplectically
As I'm yours, in the best of temper
I love your soul, with a temperament so wrong
I love your body, with a permanence so right
It takes one to know one
Someday, I'll love every part of you
And all these illusions can intoxicate my conscious mind
Yet, I want you to stay with me in the moonlight
The ******* that felt tight, loosened up at the right touch
Swell up at the sudden death of a relationship
That's how I break up with someone
It takes one to know one, to understand a compelling story

the eyes of my loved ones
looked through me
Whilst they died
Understanding my life
In there last testimony
Then I realized
Life can be broken
By three words
"I love you"

The rain brings back clear memories in clear waters
Or in the form of massive storms that power through
Sometime when the rain's gone and we need no shelter
I'd be with you

There's too much rain now and grey clouds
I keep reminiscing the words spoken and the silent vow
There won't be a tomorrow and a sun on the horizon
But there will be hearts broken and the sun will come out

That's the truth

Remembering
All the times I had fun
Studying the times when I didn't

I found love in a hopeless place
Finding stride to a worthless phrase

Rest comes easy
But work comes
With a little less peace

Kids who get bullied in the alley
In school and kicked out of college
Try making it to a league of good writers
As they learn how to punch the keys and I just bleed on paper
Also, letting out the anger
My dad never drank or smoked
But, he loved me a lot
Maybe, I was a bad kid who never loved anyone before
Because I never was treated well in school
One fine day, I stayed after school
Losing to my friends in a fist-fight
After a few years, I got into psychedelics and misfortune
Kept reading in the meantime
Barely processing all those drugs
Let alone the literature
Soon, I started a career as an underrated writer
Influenced by Hell and it's angels
Talking to myself, and making clouds of thoughts in my head
I thought I wouldn't be the only angel head who would become a poet in this day-and-age of hippies and world leaders
So, I wanted to be an author as I kept writing out my epitaph while figuring out nothing
Quite like India without the politics
I never liked mixing the two
It should just be country and God
I always believed God gave me my folks
I gave myself my life and my mess.

Pithy equivalence shine
Like the morning sunrise
Daydreaming, likewise
Breaking Benjamin, growing and bodied
embodied, the sonic youth of our strychnine daze and streets
The gap between, the suicide solution of the resolute of the bullish crowd
Looking for narcotics, and mingling with the steely neighbors
Rhymes with the ancient antediluvian efficient, crows and the parliament all fly out of free-speech
Controlling our brave needs and enslaving our politesse with laughter and mirth, the confluence of this total
Congruence with our social institutions assume isn't it if we can ask our government the questions it has been practiced to answer
Sobered up, like me, I might find that this golden pond is yet seen an auriferous bottom

When the lifetime and the girl
Were gone a long time
The poppy and hail fed the storm
The song never was heard again
The seas are dull and empty

The disappearing air wears me thin
My hair has found it's brush
In the halo of unseen wind
The girl sees me after ten cities and ladies
The seas are lifeless

The amorous water came out
The girl I cared for when we boated
To sail and turn
The birds got tired waving us goodbye too

We were so in love
We might have been in love too young
A song was left unsung
Were ten cities that lay in ruin
And the people crouched in a din
Cruel as can be the seas were unloved

It does not help to be in love
If one cannot help or save you
When you are drowning

Your ego hurt
Your vagueness
Still haunts
Somehow these lies and these shadows

Don't remind me of the darkness of dystopia
A crazy nation always to the end
Apocalyptic isn't it if had an atrophic heart
Breaking louder than bombs

The streets rife with your memories
The cars collect all your people in your life
Hijacked by the acquaintances in your life
You've lost your son

And you fell down like an empty
Empty pricked balloon
The stress haunted your dreams like tireless tension
That pulls you apart like a rubber band

At the waist with a cummerbund
Becoming the best man felt like a dream
And the girl's gone and the scheme is over
You've settled with your mind games

That you have to move on
With these right ways

Build the stars
The stars seem to fall
From the mirth of the
On The end of the horizon
That kept my tendons
On the upkeep
With my musculature
Of my back
The years on end

The divine owl loses its wings
From the light, is it nocturnal, told me some birdie
Doesn't it believe in the life of love or giddy talk
Or has become accustomed to the darkness, or clawed its a tree in search of taigus
Or has it become accustomed to becoming a nocturnal owl, has it found the dark or searching for what is light
Just like we all fight in the blind, and reveal our souls
We burn in the bright, but, this nocturnal owl told me it saw the light
The divine owl can take the form of anything
Maybe, even the rain on summer nights, loving with each midnight walk
We could see your divine owl or halcyon feeling, they are awake as that owl

The magic of thousand fires
Burns bright
In the dark
A sight for sore eyes

Dear lovers,
Awkwardness belongs in the bedroom
Not at the table
We need some leg-room

Binding the walled hatred
Evil doing its best concocting
Erstwhile, vivid learning
Rumi’s timely preaches are good
In a school of peaches and Doha
Within the basting of nostrums
Cautions many only there was friendship

Child in me wants to go home
The older self feels the light got a little colder
The hellos and good days follow like cold imagination
The twilight of a new moon renders me a little messier
Bellowing, bewitched and I get older and become a denier
The cause of the sunny dream and they say I am stranger following pied pipers
I'm a stranger in another man's eyes and living behind stronger illusions and desires
It's easier to reread a book when you know it's ending and the solution
It's easier to look at the wanderer's eyes, pointing a gun to the helm
And tell him to look at the vagrant skies with some gumption
Migrating, and the fighting spirit sits sojourned within the threat of danger
July and June, and I and the dolphins washed away on the foamy shore
Like divine retribution, that burned upon touching the sun
The shore ended where the sea opened up and the wings welded
The watered wilting rushed down the turbulent tempests, begging for merit
Flying away as one, wanting more

Je t'aime
C'est la vie
Your words are just lies
If our hearts hear different
Emotions
And feelings are a whirpool
That take me in
C'est bon
That's right
Let me calm down the storm
Soon I found you lost
Je ne sais pas
I don't know
Unless you have my book of love
Lost as rhyme
Time was tossed
J'apprends le francais
You try learning my name
Tu comment t'appele
Let me ask you to come to après evenings
Encourage me

The night said it's peaceful
Said the guy waiting for the sun
I'm hovering with my head about you

The nights are floating, I thrill you and wait for you
The cupped half-time shadows as the sunrays over my sunny head
Useless and lazy as summer on Mars

Rueful and lackadaisical as the cloudy stardust uncountable as the hours
The dreaming of you takes me to June too
Right now it's August inane without sane you

The night said it's peaceful, no surprise
As long as you have a starry sky over your colorful blue
Midnight hue and cry, floating in the hallucinations of the sunny sands

Theremin hypnotism on the radio, I'll tell when the smile finishes as long our prayer broke our radio
I look for you in the static underground, thinking of you as always laughing as always

Your eyes open to a soul that has been mistreated as a tubby baby born on the cygnets in clouds lintels dilapidated crows ******* Moloch
So far it is getting farther from me, closer to flying doves, crying Moloch now over the star-spangled banner

Hallow on hollow men, lady yells from the dream wagon from the musket ride out on the street
Let's shine from shame, hang your shambled daughter
The night said it's so peaceful tonight, hear the high knell from Hightower from the midnight hour

If not for death
Life wouldn't come from within
To leave the soul
For something different

I guess I'm still looking for you
Keep looking for the truth
About the skies
That bathe in the sun
Like a hot bath
In April
Revelation tells me I'm dreaming
Of a touch
Never knowing warmth
The coldness reminds
I'm being taken to a prison
The warmth of the ***
Beats the cold sentencing to life

I kept looking for you in the people, helplessly
Hoping this clear night could have just a little less empty
Life had other plans set aside for you and me
I dreamed of having kids and something more for free

I'm selling souls by the quick dime for a moment of paradise
You're selling prescriptions for people in a convincing disguise
Trying to pay for my vices, I'm not the only one
Can you picture this and I've got it all done

Mondays were the best days
Tuesdays and Wednesdays passed away in the worst way
We could spend Thursday night, instead we'd lose sight of Sunday
I wonder how we even made it this far into the night

Those colored dreams turned into nightmares
And troubled time conjured up more pain, hopelessly ensnared
I wish I could brought it in with my hard-earned pay
To the table, but we spent it on cheap stuff anyway

I wonder how you're gonna resist this
If I leave, you won't even follow me
To the depths of hell, can you picture this
Now we need a fix for this oxygen crisis
In a quarantine that has got us all feeling useless

Alight with the void
Flighting in fautal corners
Observing her expanse and countenance, still sparsing
I pray you to be silent about all Gods, I don't want a book that silences me
However, music is respected by nihilists too, and the blackness shadows over me like your cosmetic

When a kid
Hoping for the height to touch the clouds
When a teenager
Hoping for just the sun's warmth amidst crowds
When an adult
Hoping for time at home makes your family proud
When an old venerable person
You realize you are
Too old to touch clouds
Until knowledge tells you that that desire lies in foggy mornings
Too old to look for sunshine
Until experience tells you there is nothing more beautiful than the sunset
Too old to keep your family intact
Until wisdom tells you each person goes their own way
When in death
Hoping to reach Heaven laying behind some star
In space, away from this Earthen abode

I was hardly thinking when I entered the acropolis
The windy roads talked of carefree days, I was to last
At last, my chance came in the talk of strangers in cinema pans and wave cuts
Interfaced, by the aversion to cloudy vision, I adjusted my glasses
Walking among others, could not be more perusing and anticipating
The dissipating dreariness was really smothering my look for a change
Yesteryears shifted by my tainted feeling of flighting writes, and unopened letters
The mailman checks my mail in the mailbox and the ordinariness of things
Committing to the vapid and the milk and closeted wine, in the shepherd's column
My hands were painted with writer's ink, the thoughts just kept flowing
In the rainmaker writer, it was a syllable of doubt and dough, that I was looking at a compensation or stay
The company wasn't hard to come by, the room was charged quarters
In the middle, there was a trapdoor and I felt drawn and quartered
Garrulous crowds talked of Garibaldi, Aristotle, and praise was the talk of the century
Mephistopheles has become somewhat of an errant symbol of a syllogism with your sins
One leads to the other, and follows the posterior, laying logos for following the argument
The argument is not something that writes in my journal, but, it crossed my mind, anyway.


Voracious readers, devoted people, and a couple of friends made my stay, a welcoming farm
Likewise, life's not picket-fences, gambling, drunkenness and staying alive
It's living life to it's fullest and appreciating each moment like it's your last class in life
At some point, philosophy can be unspeakably lame
Well, your ambitions are lame too, and women need to trample over
Just tramping a few, could get you shiny shoes in this American dream
We have divorced ourselves from the idea of nationalism, and I'm sure we make good citizens
I am not even sure why entered the acropolis, as it does not accept speakers like the colosseum
Crossing paths and circling winds were once where crossed swords in history
No, I'm in Rome and looking at the short nightcaps and scenic speakeasy, my mind is wasted on women
But, books and bookers and fantastic factotums who service my every need
Once, they used to shine my car, as I walked among Hollywood stars
Now, I live with my estranged wife and intermittent wives, who are feral and feline
I might even call some of the lithe, but, you're on my mind
Smelling the paint off some of them reminds me of your person laconic and pale
Some of these girls were rather beautiful, I must say, but, the heart was lost with you
Nursing your every need and caring for you, was the biggest burden
That I learned to cherish, and the love was unreal
It was fading like the wind catching me in those eyes
The first sight was love, and now I see you every day as a routine
In the hospice, hoping cancer doesn't spread in the acropolis
Polished ceilings and hovering over us are towering structures, and love is no object
Love is an ordeal, and it takes hard work and effort
These days in this short day in the life of the caring girl, the buildings, and the houses
Living in this city remains all dead, but, empty
Dying in this city remains all dead, but, dying seems more real with
As all this fame, is make-believe
This acropolis is mortal
You are immortal, busy leaving a good feeling
Which is something I can believe in, even through existential crises

I have used up my time
And the passions for doing better for society
Fulfilled my life with purpose meant for a select few
Few only understand my ambition
The placid rime of the literary movement
Makes me realize, time being an object
Of innocence imbibed in my veritas
In my wine, I find the truth in crime
Buttressing every feeling, within its intoxication
I find peace in my revelry
My merry men that share my head full of truth
Within these feelings, I find peace with my white lies
As my life gets darker because of foolish honesty
I sip my red wine with amnesty
The feeling of righteousness washes over me like a salty ocean
Immersed by beauty, I do stay afloat
But, the water is gone and so are the remnants of a squire
Who made me the person I am

At night
It rains
I gazed
I could see
At the sky
The sunshine
The beautiful day
As pure as ever
To walk on
I had my pride
A mirror looked
Back at me
My hair was all wrong
From the storm
The candle burned
In the back
My papers lay
A fire burns honestly
To keep me warm
Wondering when
All happiness
Arrives

Clinching and clutching, then speaking with wisdom
With sheets made of clay, and waxen tousled hair
Like black wires, and the wires of *** and saltation
The vines of wine and salvation, and boundaries for those shaping their hearts
In desperation and shipping off solid favors, in the name of schemes
In the preparation fo better futures, I think we should part ways
I do now know that we never met, but, we held future in eyes
Behold these windows to an empty household, look at cafe and bistros
Beignets, cakes, parades, and raining pretention with the hard times falling like crime rates
The gangster flicks coming up in the age of mafia bosses that live and die by the *** and violence

Island telegrams randomly shuffling in the sun
Reading between the lines of tides and stones
Time and tide wait for no one unless you're a bone
Ill or hope, you're in desperate need of a bridge
Lest you end up without a savior, Samaritan who reads your island telegrams
That I can see, or at least grab onto the ropes
Carry your clothes on your camping trip, shuffling through the zenith
Wordsmith where is your inspiration, if I taking everyone for what they're looking for
Random shuffling in the sun
Rest in peace, and ****** make-believe will all be written in a message in a bottle
Dry as the dead, and floating like the oversoul; this is my last chance at ending strong
Contained by the empty vessels that navigate the seas without captains or winds
Contending the eye in the sky, projecting some prior survival
Deceased by being stranded, so it seems that I've landed
Truncheon things and turn-tables and blunt knives are in
When will sharpies come out, to write these word down
I suppose those are written in a crimson tide, tired of recognition and fertility
I love these fertile feelings, I suppose you could curb your streets for another home
I'm leaving this humble abode too soon, you might ride on the storm
Hitchhike the galaxy, sail the seas, and explore oceans; go-ahead big life
You seem to be kind enough, to help those lost and stranded
That's what you said when you read my eyes, and read my mind
You could see me beg for better ways to express the truth through island telegrams
Like the deserted island on the sky, that knows no peak
How do I come down, from this pedestal of accepting my own destiny?
When will make me the eye in your sky?
God, when will stop leaving chances to precarious bottles talking of pernicious palpitations that tell me I'm a vagrant
In someone else's stories, the island with the nicest view
Bruised and broken, starting again with a better beginning
How is that possible, that I come back from my infantile tendencies
The trepidation stays like themes and deniers, who deny my expressions and honesty

Apart at me in a latitude
Cross with the seams
Nostrum of commands, chartered
Owning for tomorrow, quid ad
Tully portentous of penmanship, questioning
If I had more battlecry moratorium felt lighter than the sword, but, took to the ethicism, to write it with serried disabuse
The revival of the crimson tide pegged for the trident of sorts from Martian landmasses, criminal smooth as the craters
Please open, the probes to the ice of the closest countries first, make global anarcho stuff our moral precedent
Aiming for life, you tend to lose sight of it all, along with the opportunity to make amends.
Sorry, the germane nature went out of nature, this is specifically directed at the single simpletons in the simplicity of laying out
Words in the degree of simple logical statements, which can neither be passive or active
Passionate really isn't that our motives are both not driven by passion and ambition
Curious, isn't I look intolerable in the promising outlook
Carelessness isn't it that I know love is growing a par two with my liveliness
Comeliness, truantly nuanced underbellied, becoming or bellied or becoming in the transcendence of the existential crafty wiz of nihilism that feels like your
Furr it's relaxed by its poetry, somehow we die off too young like some poet at our age
Polymaths and opsimaths might be alike, in some time
I've hope I've found a place in the line
Clever and quick climbing through the snakes on the lazing sun of the ladder come from the tinted passive line
Sunset horizon mindful of your mindreading crimson tide
Placid of the mature of the maternal greed, beyond the, claiming the doors
Of the possibilities, probabilities of the fraught lives among the cosmos of the karmic lives
Of the obliqueness of the strychnine streets that can be moonlit in the daydream of the sonic youth

{\ _ /}
( • - • )
~\   /~
  ~ ~- -
Believe what you see,
Imagine what you think,
See-through anything,
Bless your neighbor and good comes to those who hail the truth
Try living with a peaceful mind and you'll understand what I mean

Imagine a world with love
Now imagine it with peace
Did you really think we were at war with ourselves?

My shoes
Keep getting tougher
And the road's longer the more I run
In the end
I look to the skies
For the crimson
TO lift my highs
To show the lows of life
Shadowed by false belief
Rumbling stomachs
Remind how paltry people
Are afraid of the tempestuous thunderstorms
But their saints are washed away in the rain
Finding their waves in waters
Of the ones that are said
I love the element of the wind

Its easy to say
That's you're in love
But's its difficult
I know you have fallen
Out of it
Completely
Its the sky that
Brings us thunder
And keeps the rain
In the eye of the storm
Like a boat in
The warm waters
Those waves are
Oh, so cold
After the torrents
Of broken clouds
Make their way down
We'll sail away into
The horizon

When he says
In weeks come
complimenting
As you stand by me
My strength
In weeks to come
Weakens to reveal
A naked soul

Milk bottles, cats, doorsteps,mailman,milkman
Milk under the doorstep
Nine lives in the  making
Drinking someone's else's milk
Mailman sends out another's letter of absence
Who really brings milk

My heart has been yanked from its place
The cold fever has turned my head into a fading disgrace
Someday, the bottled ocean shall find its heart's rest place
The paleness shall leave me
The waves will stop moving so much
I just might place the words in those holes to describe peace

There were stars around your embrace
As if the sky wanted me whole
Some words were so right and enlightening
That they squeezed me tight
Bringing out the stardust on this night
Leaving me shapeless as the distant corners
Of an unexplored parallel universe
Where love is alive at midnight.

Bringing up codes, and encrypting data, making theories of our own
Having anger issues, lifeless opportunist, fail every scheme
Are we on the timeless trace of being on the same page
Jimmy Page, are we talking about the influence of honest people?
Writing, and suspending and hiding behind the ambivalent
Feelings, and deafness, in Cohen's songwriting
It took to me sleeping on my sides, with my torn pages laying them
Believe in your individual soul, are we hidden in bounds of songs of hate and love
Looking into civilized citizenry, are we truly unbecoming
We reveal more than what we see, or can we look away
Amnestic, it looks like peace again, or noiseless?
He died with loveless purpose and the silence of crime and punishment, and that's where our observed sentence, ends needless to say?
The journeys seem like the conflict of the future, we are selflessly emancipated, amicable people of many educated toppers
We might look to go to better places, we might be miles off
Raising torrents, lovely rains, the journey ends in the blink

Writing lives, I draw myself to my unregistered war, looking to yield my progeny
Persons and prohibited people can be aggravated, can we friends meeting together at the justice or the jejune sense of adolescence
We could find resolution in our own caveats and deride, and rob ourself out of the potential for echoes of your thoughts
That can be called out as ideas of some other person's open book
Or you read him/her like an open book?
Wanted her to live or die with a graceless look?
Did you find your own identity or falling in love?
Didn't we do this before, behemoths broadcasting my edict and red concussions?
Doesn't this sound suspicious, and lucid and obvious, we were never really imperfect?
Do you handles and shoes come with the bags, or shoulder your erudition, by the educated mind that looks like
You can keep those cars, and think why the hell would I reserve myself to the life of a convict?

The townspeople
They prayed for the
man to come off the steeple
He came down
But couldn't make pope

Pick out your destiny, slowly
Take your pick from open for business
And chrysanthemums that dry like the yellow times
You have with the blues, the cerulean tulips can't get enough of
Watered colors in form cumulus colors, colors of a shade
The trade-off of your polyamory and amorous exchanges, ringing like hallowed bells
Bell-shaped flowers, pick and choose your tune among the red wine-like roses
The truthful rose, in vino veritas, let me fetch another one of my flowers
In gazebo's that blossoms like composure and human nature, colored like roses, blue like a violet
Heralding the wine and decomposed soil, germinating to fructify
Tributes to your loved ones, time grows older than the powers of the words
Late-bloomers change your eternity in a palm-full of beauty
The eternity in a wildflower of the heated hours, the high life
The groups of the mirrored of the jaded transience, make it mystical as time
Lives will die with the shelves that contain stick and chains, like women
Trips and camp tents tested in the terms of the trident of Cyprus trees

I'm riding the quick cars, and rising tides
Im writing songs that thoughts cannot keep
So I bid adieu to these feelings

We wander in the sea
All, lest we speak by meandering the will of the desperate man
And gladly he wolde lerne, gladly he will teche
April is a dull month, breeding lilacs of the refracted land

Le desespere were the dismembered, germinating roots in the washing away of memory or broken places
Let us go, you and I
To the sunlit skies wearing the secret of prima facie
Etherized on the table, for Ezra Pound's moniker

"Es tut mir leid"
Were novels and symbols into the sun with a woolen sweater and a note
"Butch and Sundance Kid"
I see your shadow walk into the rising sun, across the window, and that's what you did!


Thelma and Louise, hand in hand
Vandalism among vandals, wasting away in the wastelands
Peace germinates, as they in the sundry embryo of the now
I show you fear in a handful of the dust, in Avaris

A sheep herd burned in the road, monotonous sibilant calls
House in the dirt, coal eyes felt no pain with the fire of inner visions
He shrieked in descending flames, yelling in his religious abode
Crowned boldly without reprieve for his drunken soul
God, why have you forsaken me
Ad lama sabachtani crying on Everest megalithic of lithe souls burning
Have you got a moment to hear a match-lit forlorn rag, these words burn me in my throat
In the form of quasi-knowledge, I can still hear the shrieks of madness
Moloch, Moloch, Moloch and neon traffic lights shine across the square
I'm at the crossroads of my winding life searching for truth
Speaking about conformism while understanding the crushing penury
Leek, green grass, that's all these sheep can eat
The foggy scene killing my joy frescoed in her mind without wheatish flax seed
There were no seeds to sow, the land was fertile and we could sit for another folly time in this sold-out show
Watch the thunder die with the snow as the student takes Thunderdome