The HEART of
         My ENEMY
      For the BLOOD of
        My BROTHER
will bring the
  BROTHER of
          My ENEMY for
        The BLOOD of
           My HEART and
             so on and
              so on and
               so on
           until we are
             knee-deep in
                DEATH
                  and all the
                     OCEANS
                           turn
                              **RED

F' this planet...
   I'm going home...

And my heart broke a little more
and sank deep down to the
bottom of misery
And beyond temptation hate tried
to force its way above my skin
And throat foamed and the chance
to yell obscenities
And how my blood did howl with
angers force
And my unclenched fist wanted to grasp
liers throat
And better sense of temperament reminded me....
     just breath
       just breath
         just breath

All this noise in the world
And no one is listening
No one is noticing all the wrong
All the ugly words to the song
Children sitting gathered at tables
Laughing as they should
Laughing while they can
Life fast at their heels
Horror awaiting to replace their innocent
   days
And whose daughter will go first
Whose little girl will lose her will
      To smile
       To trust
        To love
Whose precious ray of sunshine
  Will be dragged
     To
        Dark alleys
         Dark couches
           Dark beds
Whose little flower will be
         Stomped on
         And crushed
         And dismembered
      And left living a life
      Constantly wishing for death
And who would do such a thing
   To such a sweet little smile
  Will it be by
    Monster or cousin
    Or uncle or father
    Or neighbor or stranger
    Or husband or friend
And whose little boy will lose his way
   Lose his way from patience
   And kindness and love
   And respect
Whose little boy will grow into brother
  Of brother of father of wealth
    And of name
Whose little boy will be taught by
  ignorance and ***** that he must be like
  the father of his brother of his brother
  of name and of wealth
Whose little son will grow into the monster
    of the illusion of being a man
Means taking whatever he wants
   whenever he can
Whose little monster will be left to wander
  and stray
    So far far away
     From the days of being
      A monster was only
        pretending and play
I sit and I sip coffee of sugar and cream
  And I wish and I pray that this was all
   A bad dream
But I cannot refuse or deny it
All this horrible horrible noise
Among the children laughing
With naive painted grins
I shudder inside of thoughts of their
                                       innocence gone
I tremble to know of futures of
                                        terrible wrongs
Whose will grow into murders of racism
  and hate
Whose will find themselves victims of ****
Whose will find themselves innocent
  locked behind bars awaiting death row
Who will turn into monster and beast
Who will turn into hero and friend
Whose little boy
Whose little girl
Will brave the road and pave the way
  To a future of endless
               Innocent days
It cannot be a day too soon
Let us hope it is not a day
                  Too late...

We fall in love
Deep mad love
And everything
Everything about life
seems better
We hold hands
Kiss tightly and long
We get lost between
Slow *** and hard
reckless *******
We stay up late
with the stars
and catch the sunrise
We phone and talk
about nothing
and anything
and lose ourselves
in laughter and
forget to care about
what time it is
And time passes
and we get comfortable
We get so ******
comfortable
that we forget about
the fire
the madness
and slowly we take
love for granted
We laze around it
We wander from it
in the grocery store
the long car rides
we carelessly ignore it
during what was once
love making and not
just killing time or
just ******* to ****
And the fire dies down
And madness packs up
And soon enough
mouths no longer kiss
and hands dont hold
and then
theres yelling
and finger pointing
and blame tossed around
And we forget about love
We forget how it all happened
How we got so
****** comfortable
and we lose it
and we find misery
and then misery gets
so ****** comfortable
and we enjoy it
We enjoy being miserable
and we just gotta laugh
about how stupid we
can be

A page entry from A.Z.H.'s "Thought Book"

  "Through the pages of this journal is the paper that contains the ink made from the cloudy gas called dream.  The dream is from me.  My thoughts are written inside this journal.  But I must warn you that it won't always carry good thoughts.  Some can be scary or sad, exciting or angering.  But it all depends on how you read it."

A.Z.H.

It's cold in my living room and the kitchen and the bedroom and the grocery store aisles
It's cold during hot showers and long hours and morning coffee and humid afternoons
It's cold under blankets and sheets and stars and in bed
It's cold in my bones and my lungs and my skin and my blood
It's cold wherever you aren't
And its coldest in the place you left your fires burning in my heart

This is a poem my son wrote...

What if you could go to the other side of the universe, the world, the sky... What if you could fly, float, glide... What if you could teleport, transport, appear... What if you could do anything you only could do... but you have to do one thing before you can do any of that.  Before you could go to the other side, before you could fly, before you could teleport... and that thing is to find your story.

The moon smiled and laughed
as it hung in a dark magenta sky over a blood red sea
burning with black flames
Dead mermaids brought the dreams of starfish
to the surface of the ocean
Hoping to pay their way out of their debt to love
The last and only thing keeping them chained
to the cold tides of fate
Their bones tired and weary
Their scales fallen off a fairy tale ago
and their hearts still faintly beating
No matter how hard they tried
and no matter how many dreams they collected
or how far they swam
They never could find their way to death
or a map to oceans end

I fell asleep but couldn't dream
so I walked through the mist
and echo of a black blanket
under a starless night
I came across a nightmare
crying under a leafless tree
naked and exposed with
soft skin and milky breast
Her lips were the color of poison
but her voice carried
no trace of a lie
As she said all she had wanted
was to kiss the moom
under a dark magenta sky
She promised me she could lead me back to dreams
If I would just take her hand
and let her walk with me
So our fingers entwined
and we walked miles
of soft footsteps
and shy glances
She would giggle and blush
from time to time
It had begun to feel
as if she had lost her way
and our journey would never end
When she suddenly stopped
and motioned she had
something to whisper in my ear
I leaned in close and she laughed lightly and said
"Your clothes fell off sometime ago... we are both naked now, so this must be your dream... before you go may I ask of you one more thing?"
She stopped whispering and
moved her mouth in front of mine and said the last part with
her eyes...
I didn't know it then
but that would be
my last first kiss
and now I am the moon
hanging dreamless
in a dark magenta sky

Fly away little bird
My love is not a burden for you to share
It is heavy and dark and made of broken pieces of hearts and dreams
You have a much better life to live
adventures waiting
My life belongs to the desk and pen
The brush and the haunting blank surface
Grey colors and falls embrace
I know it would be eternal paradise
To spend time with you under both sheets and dreams
To breath in your scent hidden between thighs and breast
To wander hand in hand
Through the halls of your heart and soul
To feel your beauty flow endlessly throughout my blood and control my pulse
... sometimes fast... sometimes slow...
breathing easy through sleep
panting heavy inbetween dreams
kisses soft with hard teeth
bleeding slow
where fingers traced words of love
during torrent moments of lust
nirvana found under the razor tip of your tounge pressed against
the life seeping out of my skin
only fools would mistake this as sin
but its not the place for me to find or spend my autumn years
Your love has better days and things to do
I am only a dream away from death
Sitting at a cold desk
Watching lost colors drown out the corners of the surface once blank
Painting the last words of a dying dream

what is she but a hope or a wish
a dream or a penny full of bad luck
a butterfly wing or a switchblade knife
placed with precision between two ribs
delirium and delusion as bride and groom
but not girl and boy
just bones and bones
husband and wife
without any parts to tell who's who
just a spark and a flash
of lives lived and loved
loves loved and died
death dreamt and slept
dreams slept and cried
tears flooded and drowned
flowers drenched
whiskey drank
porcelain chipped and cracked
last kiss of the first
death of reason
birth of madness
suffering murdered
pain given black wings
a heart stiched with the vane of a lost feather
once used by a god to write a letter and draw a map
while spending a life wandering a road under the shade of a tree
or was she sitting beneath the mist of a wave waiting for a bus to stop somewhere between eternity and oceans end
she was so long ago and sometime soon
that I can only hope and wish
that she will be the dreams of a penny that is all out of luck
just sleeping in the sun
waiting to be loved

Fathers won't always remember the last time their sons give them their last soft kiss on the cheek followed by a small squeaky voice saying, "i love you daddy"
And that's ok...
I suppose...
Its the kind of thing little boys outgrow so slowly and suddenly that it goes unnoticed until it is completely gone some years ago
It will be replaced by long warm hugs and little arms wrapped around necks and legs and waists and a voice not as tiny or squeaky saying "I love you dad"
And that's ok...
I suppose...
And often with an unknown tragedy these hugs become shorter as arms grow longer
Not always... but sometimes
Some will stay close
Some will drift
And some will drift and then become even closer for their time apart
And that's ok...
I suppose...
The wonders of life are not always kind
But they are not of cruel intentions
It will seem unfair at times
True
But life itself cannot be blamed
It has no guidelines
No safety net
No rule book
It is of whimsy and irony and grace and downfall and magic and fear and beauty
Time will shuffle the deck and fate will cut and deal the cards
And maybe hugs will be replaced by pats on the back or handshakes or shrugs of the shoulders as an older voice that has lost all of its squeak says, "...hey..." as sons and fathers pass in the hall
And that's ok...
I suppose...
Fathers have to let their sons grow
Have to let go of thier hands...
To let them...
discover mistakes and learn failure and invent secrets and build mystery and paint dreams
To live through the wonders of life that will sometimes seem cruel and unfair
And find in their fathers voice that they they only let go of their hands so they could hold more tightly to their hearts which they can never let go

A man with dragonfly wings and a ravens head interrupted a dream where the moon was dying and the sun was burning its last match
He spoke in clicks and clacks and had hooves for feet and told a story of the birth of the first star who had no father or mother
Lost and alone in an infinite darkness the star had little to do but ponder if there was any difference between reality and fiction and which one it belonged to
Did it belong to a dream or a wish or was it an illusion or a trick or was it just imagining itself and maybe it wasn't even a star
Maybe it wasn't anything at all
Maybe it was nothing more than a feverish thought of a mad god with dragonfly wings and a ravens head and hooves for feet who had murdered his mother and father
He made a noise that sounded something like a cackle and a snarl and then hovered for a moment before flying off into a blood red sky
The dream flickered back into focus and the sun had no flame or fire and the moons corpse floated out in a burning boat towards oceans end
Its last dream wrapped in velvet bandages dangled in a starless sky humming a silent song only the first star ever born could hear

What fools we are to spend our lives
not painting or *******
What feels better in our hands
than a brush or a lover
To feel the paint spread along the canvass
And tounges pressed against our flesh
To explore and mix colors before our eyes
And tangle and twist our limbs
To merge heaven and hell with water and paper
And lust and sin with lips and skin
Push the sky with oil and knife
Open legs with mouth and breath
Make flowers bloom in eternal night
Draw moans from throat and *****
Let the paint and nectar flow
Melt flesh and expose our souls
Passion paints desire
Desire burns our bones
Lets not waste our time
And hold brush and lust and love
And paint our every hour
and grind hips to lips to sin and moan
Lets not waste what little time
We have to make life beautiful

Her heart was made of the dream of humming birds
Her belly held the promise of laughter
Her eyes were the stars above heavens cloud
Her skin was the soft white of porcelain
Her hair was made of threads of translucent silk and black fire
Her lips held the secret kiss of beauty
Her breath was the warmth of life
She walked the earth and glided through the fabric of dreams
To see her smile
Was only the first step
Over the edge
As one found themselves
Falling through an infinite night
Through the endless depths
Of an ocean of love

She wore a short black dress and had an arrow through her chest
She preferred to carry a hand gun over a hand bag
And the barrel was usually hot and leaking smoke
She carved coins out of the back of deaths skull to wear over her eyes
She wasn't blind
She just didn't need to see and moved better in the dark
Rumor has it shes the only person Cupids poison couldn't control
And she had feud with the little feathered fellow
She had broken more than her fair share of hearts
And she knew he was to blame
She traveled the world to hunt him down
She eventually found him in a bar north of a dream
And downwind of a Singapore sling
She slammed down three shots of whiskey
And ate the worm at the bottom of a broken bottle of tequlia
She paid her tab with a gold piece she had taken off the body of a dead god
Then Cupid and her stepped outside
A few moments later the thunder of a single gunshot rang out
And then a cold silence and a chill wind swept over the town
No one saw what happened that night
But the horizon tells a story of a women in a short black dress
Riding a horse slowly towards the sinking sun
With an arrow in her chest and a smoking gun at her side

When time and wind and earth
Has stripped away our skin and flesh
And turned our bones to dust and ash
What then will we remember of what we were in life that was beautiful
What do dead eyes dream of when they become ethereal ghosts
Of echo and mist
And the heart has long since flown away to another life
To love and break and scar and love
And watch another cage made of bone
Age and rust and fade away
To time and wind and earth
And slowly forget what in life was beautiful
What then can dead eyes do
but dream
And count the colors of
Time and wind and earth
And see the echo of the mist
Of what makes all things beautiful
And in the vision of this fog
What do dead eyes dream
But the dream of
life and love
And love and life
of all things beautiful

I don't remember the exact day we first meet
Or the date of our first kiss
It was long ago and a blur away
But I can recall how it felt
The last time we kissed when it still meant something
The last time you pushed your hips against mine
With love still beating in your chest
The urgency and passion of you grinding untop of me
As I was melting into you
The beauty of the dream swimming from your eyes into mine
The helpless state of being yours
Because you were mine
The way you song my name with sunshine in your voice
The days of dreams perfection
The chapters of a perfct life
Before we had to read
The fairy tale of forevers end
The world crumbled beneath me
And you slipped away
As if you were made of gun smoke and oceans mist
And even now
With years between us
Swimming from my reach with the echos of mermaids
Your only a dream away from perfection

A white dress made of bleached black veils
And a wedding ring forged over a funeral pyre
Black flames burning over the red sea
Lost love swimming in a dead ocean
Nothing living inside of me
Nothing dreaming in my hollow heart
Nothing matters
With you so far away
No wheres home
When the roads don't lead to you
Just a ghost
Of a fleeting hope
A penny tossed
Into a poisoned well
A wish made
On a star gone mad
A pillow full of secrets
That will never whisper in your ear
A blanket warming
An empty bed
A skeleton bird
Pecking away at my ribs
I can't feel anything
Except numb
Unless I dream of you
And all I can do
Is dream of you
Wearing a white dress
Made of bleached black veils