She was made of a language
no one could hear
and hand written in perfect cursive
by the scripture of the stars
and made from the sea and salt
of an ocean lost in a tear
and the color of blood
gave her lips all
of its crimson and rage
and she was there
when dreams took their first step
out into the void of the time of nothing
and she weaved his heart
from the poetry of leaves
and his bones from the past
before death had a cloak or a reason
and his flesh from
the soft skin of her kisses
and she tied the string of his heart
to the beat of her own
and no matter the story
or time of eternity
they would find one another
in the pages and between the covers
of the dreams they would have
and the life they would share
as they would invent
and discover and write
and rewrite the books of love
in the language no ears could hear
or eyes could see
but ever heart would feel
in between their first and last beat

Paper moons
Paper flowers
Paper hearts
Paper me
Paper you
Lovers on the page
Madness all the rage
Shreds of pulp
Book full of love
Paper suns
Paper stars
Paper boats
Paper you
Paper me
Madness on the page
Love in full rage
Shreds of books
Pulp full of love
Paper smiles
Paper laughs
Paper happiness
Paper us
Paper us
One single page
Written full of love
By two hearts
Becoming one
In this paper tale
This paper world
This paper love

She was made up of earth and poetry
a silk garden of flames
that bloomed flowers of soft lust
the sun had adorned her skin
with small kisses that stained her face
with stars shaped like freckles
and the moon wove its magic
from the colors of her eyes
she was goddess and muse and woman
and all the things that made life feel beautiful
her blood ran with the indigo rivers
along the mountains of eternities horizon
and she hypnotized with slow poison
from the drunken haze of midnight ***
and her velvet lips could mend the broken
and raise the dead with just a dream of a kiss
and she only had to show the skin of her neck
to make fools out of mortal men
who let prayers of sin seep from their hardened
and wanting desire to know who she was
under her jeans and shirts and nakedness
when she unfolded and dripped and moaned
and took and gave and offered and devoured
from light morning kisses and drowsy eyes
to bending over the kitchen sink
with just enough skin exposed
to plow and grunt through the day
and fall into frenzied sheets
of ***** deeds under the moon
and exposed secrets of lost pleasures
only known by those that have swallowed
the fires of sin and the blood of honey
and in the aftertaste she lingered
with a hint of her earth and poetry

I want to die hungry
I want to die knowing life meant something
I want to die with piles of work unfinished....
unfinished poems
unfinished books
unfinished illustrations
unfinished paintings...

I want to die knowing I tried to my very last breath
to make this world a better place
that I tried to shed light into the worlds darkness
that I tried to transform something cold
and heartless and ugly into something beautiful

That I did not turn a blind eye
to the poor and the hungry and the homeless
That I spoke up when inequality was still a monster
guarding capital hill
and its stash of gold and treasure for the 1%

That I acknowledge that white privilege
was a serpent in the court room
devouring real justice
while turning a blind eye
to the crimes of daddies little boy
who just made a mistake for "twenty minutes"
over and over
again and again
in and out
in and out
for "twenty minutes"
and why should "twenty" consecutive "minutes"
of poor choices ruin his whole privileged...
I mean promising life...

That white privilege was obvious
when one person convicted of ****
walked free in three months
while other men just accused of ****
found but not proven guilty
spent decades behind bars
to only be eventually freed
when their accusers told the truth
about how they had lied
and none of it happened
and if you can't guess the difference between the two
you probably believe the world is flat
and that white privilege and climate change and global warming
are paranoid delusions of people who are lazy and worthless
and want something for nothing

That the dead no matter their color
still need to see their murders pay
for what they have stolen
what they have broken
and the pain they left behind
when they decided that when
they "feared" for their life
it went from to protect and serve
the community and the people
to I'm going to **** this *******

That I knew that #blacklivesmatter
was a call for justice and equality
not special treatment or supremacy

That the vocabulary of my sons heart
did not know the word hate
other than when he said things like
"YUCK!, I hate GREEN BEANS!"

That he not only understood kindness
but he knew and lived by its importance
that he strived for compassion and empathy
that he treated generosity and helpfulness
as a responsibility to those in need
that his pursuits of happiness
included helping others in their pursuits

That he loved and gave with a heart
that was always full
that was always hungry
from the time that I leave him
to the time he takes his own last breath
that he lived
to make this world a better place
that he tried to shed light into the worlds darkness
that he tried to transform something cold
and heartless and ugly into something beautiful

She wore a dress cut from the night sky
scattered with stars and dreams
and her smile
had a mischievous curve at each end
and a hint of magic glittered
in the colors surrounding her eyes
and she spoke in a voice
that echoed with the beauty of poetry
and he was tempted to crawl away
from the shyness that lived in his bones
and he managed to make small talk
but fell short of bravery
and slunk into the night without stars
and a dream that knew only her name

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...

The only blind thing
I will follow is my heart
For love needs no eyes

I wake with you
Lingering
Your dream still
Warm
In my bed
Your kiss still
Haunting
My mouth
Hungry
For more
Of the sweet
Taste
Of your
Love
I've never
Had
But need
More
My heart
Gone
My chest
Full
Overflowing
With
Pictures of
You
I hear
Madness
Spreading
Consuming
Me whole
Monsters
Dancing
The devil
Laughing
My soul
Sold
Without
You
My heart
Will never
Return
Home
It has
Devoted
Its beating
For you
All of
Its dreams
And
All of its
Blood
I lost it
To the
Fires
Of your
Heart
The
Compassion
That dances
In your
Words
The hypnotic
Allure of
Your voice
And
All the
Endless
Beauty
Of you

My heart recognized you
the first moment I saw you
I didn't have a chance to get
  your name
Or even say anything at all
  to you...
And as the rest of that night
  passed
As I drove towards home
I never thought I would get
  a chance to see you again
But my heart knew
It knew right away
That it loved you
And that for the rest of my life
  I would love you too
Completely, impossibly, and madly
Together
Apart
This life
The next
For all time
Forward
Or back
I would always love you
And that I always have
In that one first moment
My heart knew

Our interpretation of time
is only backed
by the ego of our arrogance
as if we alone could master
the infinite mysteries of the stars
and chain them to the definition
of the dot to dot constellations
of our limited imaginations

then trap the sands of time
to gears and springs
and strap it to our brittle wrists
as we crown ourselves
the children of a grand designer
who sculpted our flesh alone
in “HIS” most holly image

we know nothing of the things
we pretend to know
as the flaw of our intelligence
is that it is self designed

we are non the better
than the creatures
we share this planet with

other than we deny ourselves
the simple pleasures
of howling at the moon
or singing with the sunrise
or laying on the surface
and in the silence
of the moonlight shimmering
over the still waters of a pond

we make noise
when it is unnecessary
and keep silent
when we should speak out
as the devil in our deeds
is in every detail
of the cruelty
we have spread out through history

sometimes in the name of god
and sometimes in the name of country
and in the times
of our most overindulgent hypocrisy
in the name of both

as we have dived ourselves
by imaginary lines
drawn in the sand
we believe we have trapped
and strapped to our brittle wrists

as if time is only on our side
moving in one direction
playing by our rules
shaped by the god
we created to bless us
for our self inflected
and self indulgent sins

because it is easier
to blame the devil
for the all fruit we steal and horde

but the devil is only real
in the crimes committed
by the blood we have
running in our veins
and the blood we spill
to feed the fear and hatred
of fables and myths too old
for anyone to remember
written in languages
no one has ever spoken or heard

all the while we ignore
the simplest of facts
that when we have gone too far
dropped one too many bombs
let one too many bullets soar
that when fear and hate swallows
the last of us whole

that time will march on without us
and that all in all
all we have strapped to our brittle wrists
is nothing more
than our meaningless egos

The misunderstood
The kind beautiful souls
That care too much
Love too deeply
Laying in bed
With monsters
And demons
And devils
Holding their hearts
Hiding in their arms
Crying
Because everything hurts
Seeing the world as it is
Watching nothing change
It's painful just to inhale
And exhale
The simple act of breathing
Hurts
Nearly unbearable
And they breathe
And live
And survive
Through the pain
And heartache
Day after day
Stronger and more
Beautiful
For the happiness
They sacrfice
From themselves
By caring and loving
Too much
They see beauty
In the world
In other people
Sometimes real
Sometimes illusion
But rarely do they
See that in all our world
In all our truth
And all our faults
That it is from their
Own hearts
That the purest
Beauty shines
Feeling trapped
And chained
And lost
To darkness
Never knowing
Never trusting
Never loving
Their own light
Often not being able
To see it themselves
No one stopping
To say

It's ok...

I'm here with you...

Its ok to hurt
It's ok to sleep
With sadness
Buried deep in
Your marrow
It's ok
To be depressed
To crawl under
Your bed and hide
With your monsters
It's ok to dance
With your pain
Dance and dance
Until your feet bleed
And your whole being
Aches
Dance until the pain
Is part of you
Because
It is part of you

It's ok to be you

No one is free
Of suffering
Of sickness
Of death
But not everyone
Really feels
It's the misunderstood
The kind
The beautiful
Caring too much
Loving too deeply
That feel
Everything
And to feel
Everything
You have to hurt
Hurt down to when
Your soul was pulled out
Of the void
And into existence
Hurt back to when
Your heart took its first beat
Back to your unbearable
First breath
All alone in the void
Rushing into this life
Unknown...

Hurting

So feel everything
For those that hurt the most
Also love the most
And it is the purest love
Everything about you
The pain and hurt and heartache and depression and suffering and love...

Everything...

Everything makes you beautiful

We sip our coffee and cream
  and drink our whiskey and beer
Then listen to wolves
   dressed as doctors
     with deaf ears
       and big empty eyes
        and blood stained teeth
Who tell us to dull the pain with pills
  and drown emotions
   in prescription prayers
    refillable
     at the small cost of our souls
And we sit in front of flat screens
  and smart phones and insta-gratification
    and press the illusion of our face
      between pages of a metaphor
        disguised as a book
And the imagined life is better
  than what is really going on
   so we script our day to day lives
     and step into the ring
       and wrestle like big men
         pretending its not just
           another form of ballet
We've doubled down on dumbing down
  and we're losing more than we're gaining
    but we keep spinning the wheel
      and the barrel
        and pulling the trigger
          playing the game
            of suicide
          and Russian Roulette
There is two bullets for every name
  and a bomb of every size
   waiting for its time to go BOOM
     and war is just a business
        for the rich
      payed for by the innocent
       and the ignorant
Death is big money
  and blood is cheap
    pump up the world population
      and the rise of inflation
        keep education at a minimum
          as well as a wage
Keep the poor hunger
  and give them an illusion to hate
    divide and separate
     fear is the season of reason
      needed to segregate and dissipate
       any sympathy or empathy
        or kindness or love
We live in a nation of sheep
  being lead by a pig
   and it sounds like fiction
    but it's horrifyingly real
     and he tweets and he oinks
      and he huffs and he puffs
       and he is just a sad little man
        having a bad hair day
         day after day
The world is watching
  and laughing
    a nervous laugh
Maybe it's nothing to worry about
  maybe I'm just late for my pill
   and my beer and my whiskey
    and maybe I just need a little
      cyanide and cream
       to lighten the mood
        of the black coffee news

Thin black silk veil covers transparent porcelain white skin and an illuminated red heart flutters wildly within
A mouth with the shape and shine of the moon echos with melancholy tears and laughter lost and a touch of lunacy for the dark side of things
She would fake a smile and say she was okay just to comfort her family and friends and it was easier than trying to explain the things they would never understand
She could handle the weight and the darkness and the monsters didn't scare her as much as she scared them and there was pain in every breath on the worse days and numb on the bad days and the good days seemed to pass in mere minutes and it never slowed down the wild red illuminated heart fluttering madly within her chest

There's an infinite beauty in the simple
  things
But the world is too busy turning
  and arguing
  and working
  and grasping
  and chasing
The Big Picture Life and praying
  to the big man above
  for the big time job
  to make the big money
  to become the big men below
And the simple things go unseen
  as the bullets and bombs
  drop and fall around
  and the big men fall to the ground
  where they lay unable to make
   any sound
And those still alive cry and rage
  and burn new fires of hate
And now its this god vs that god
  and its all just excuses to keep
  the war machine turning and
  working and taking young lives
And time keeps moving though it
   would rather stand still than watch
   us ignoring the infinite beauty
   of simple things

His heart was old and wounded and scared
It had been broken and bruised
and burned until there was not even ash left
It had dreamt and lost and cried more tears than stars in the sky and prayed to never fall again
To never feel empty and absent
or miserable and abused
and for the death it felt inside to be its quite and final resting place
It clung desperately to the want of never
And then there was her
And colors pulsed in its blood
And dreams were painted on its walls
And her name burned into its skin
Then his heart beat as if it was just taking in its first breath
And all of its cracks and scars and bruises faded and it couldn't remember shedding a single tear or ever having been broken
And the beauty of love was found again
In the soft curves of her smile and the magic of the colors swirling in her eyes
And nothing else mattered
Nothing but her

Love...

if we are lucky...

is and will be
the only real reason we are here
and we will find
at the end of our lives
that it is not some judge mental deity
with a check list
of the names we prayed to
and the things we prayed for

but only love to greet us
and accept us for who we were
with all our human faults
and forgive us for
the way we ignored love
in order to allow ourselves
to be so cruel to one another

that to a miserable extent
we completely misunderstood love
what it meant
how to use love
how to share love
how to receive love

that too many of us
could not recognize
when someone loved us
or when we loved someone

that if someone
didn’t want to **** us
or we didn’t want
to **** someone
it wasn’t love that we felt
that we couldn’t
just love each other
to love each other
and nothing else

that we didn’t realize
how much easier
and beautiful life
would have been
if we had done so

that we couldn’t tell the difference
between emotional grace
and physical desires

or worse

when we knew the difference
but just didn’t care
and used love as an excuse
to get what we wanted

some of us will have been lucky
and knowing and not knowing
will have got love right
at some point
for some time in our lives

and we got to spend part of our lives
loving someone so intensely
that ******* them
was more than a physical act
that we got to breath and dance
while sleeping in someone else’s heart
and they breathed and danced
while sleeping in ours

that we knew and experienced love
for all the beauty it had to offer
in the short time we were alive
that we treated love well
and meet and lived with it
without needing to wait till our ends
to have death introduce us

so that in the end
we will just smile
as we know we are
just meeting an old friend

And when we kissed she stole everything that was good from me.  She stole it straight from my breath, straight from my blood, straight from my soul and I gave it up freely

Death stops by to remind us
how beautifully fragile life is
and with her
you have gone away
and yet you are still here
in the quite moments
between my heart beat
and the silent space
between the tears falling
and I can still feel the warmth
of your laughter
and still hear the comfort
of your voice
I know not where you have gone
or if we will meet again
so what luck it was
what a privilege it has been
to have had you in it
my beautiful friend

Let me lay down in the bed of poetry
you keep underneath
the soft curves of your skin
and let me sleep in
until it is time to dream again

let your smile be the sun
and the moon and the sky
forever painted black and blue
and bruised with the brush strokes  
of love lost and found
and fought for and kept

weave the magic in your pulse
into the madness of my heartbeat
and spill your words of blood and anguish
and sorrow and triumph
into the silence of the conversation
between the color and wonder
of your eyes gazing hypnotically
into the horror and the void
and monsters living
in the dark pools of mine

build bridges between
the broken pieces of me
and the stars you keep
under your skirt
and we will live in our own universe
where everything hurt
has a place to find comfort
and every comfort knows
the way back
from the place where we hurt

where dreams know that nightmares
are part of the stage and the play
and that life even in death
must always go on
and should we forget our lines
we just need to listen
to the song of the leaves
and the words in the wind

we will be the forest
and the bears and the wolfs
and the dragons and the clouds
and the fire and the howls
and the fairy and the tale
and the language we make up
as we write poetry underneath
the beds of our skin

Some days you have to smile through the misery and pain and ache of it all.  You gotta bare a toothy mad grin and laugh at the horrible agony swallowing the world.  Its easy to be a doom sayer, a lunatic screaming about an unavoidable Armageddon, to look a stranger in the eye and tell them we are so far past the point of redemption that we're all just ******* ****** **** ******.  Its easy to crawl into the gutter with the bums and the winos and get comfortable with not giving a **** ****** about anything and everything.  Crawl into the bottle and swim in the whisky of heartless indifference, to become a ****** foaming at the mouth for the needle of the cruel uncaring blind eye of social disharmony.  It can **** you, all this sad weather news of bullets raining down stealing lives and breeding hatred.  The bad days of sunshine blinding justice with piles of money setting criminals free and killing the hearts of their victims.  Its a storm of vile human filth spreading like cancer over the whole stinking world.  It will make you sick if you look too close... but that's just it, we gotta look close.  We have to stare it dead in the face, smile at it, laugh at it... and tell it to go ******* **** itself.  We gotta stand up to it and fight it.  At the end of the fight we have to have more teeth and more bite than it does, its not a fight we can afford to lose.  Not if we want a better world for our children, a brighter future for love and hope.  Its hard though, its ugly, its near unbearable... all these bad weather days one after another with no sign of the storm letting up.  We have to bare the weight, we have to accept that we will probably lose more people than we will save... we have to push through the tears and our fears and our doubts and the constant feeling that we are fighting a losing battle.  You have to shout out your battle song of hope against the odds.  We're all going to die, but how and for what is a decision we all can make on our own.  Will we die in the false safety of our cookie cutter homes, slaves to the lies and the misery of the world at large.  Or will we take a stand and fight back.  Even on the days we feel like we're impaled on the devils teeth and our hearts and lungs feel punctured and we're spitting and choking on ***** and blood, we still have to throw ourself into the fray and smile and laugh at all the human vile trying to destroy us. We have to go mad, to stay alive, to keep hope burning in our hearts, and to fight back against the odds.  Let our fists fly and let those birds scream out **** **** ******* ******* to the suicide bombs and hate bullets spilling the blood and death of innocence and beauty.  I dream of a better world and give myself to the page and the pen and hope that we find unity through love before we find ourselves hanging in the noose that we tied around our own necks.

Hard fate of bad stones
Nothing but blank faces on the ghost
Dancing in the boneyard
There was pain in her every breath
And she didn't belive in death
So what did she have to lose
She arranged the tiles in a noose
Swallowed a pretty pill
  or two
   or three
     or more and more and
She put on her favorite shoes and dress
So she would look her best
For whatever may be next
Then she fell like dominos
To the tempting hand of suicide

I saw the fires at the ends of time
Burning in the depths of iridescent blue seas of endless darkness
I set sail on a paper boat
Chasing a paper moon hanging above the blazing horizon
I heard the call of madness
And was helpless to follow
Whispers and whishes pushing the paper sails to the waters on the edge of time
And I walked into the flames
Burning blood red and jack-o-lantern orange
And I was consumed by the ache and the pain and the beauty of the embers and coals
Swimming through the anguish and tears of the shadows between the tounges of licking fire
The song and call growing louder
Hypnotic and alluring causing my heart to race
With fear and anticipation
My soul lost to the flicker of the dancing light
My heart singing back to the madness
I walked deeper through the flames
Burning everything of me away
My flesh and my pains
My bones and my doubts
My marrow and my sorrows
Leaving only my heart to burn and beat  naked through the truth
And the heat
My heart alone
Beating quickly
Burning slowly
Completely given into the song and call
Madness now pulling my heart to its center
There in the middle of the fires and flames
I found what made all things beautiful
A soul and heart
Of pure white flame
Burning burning
Like the sun
Burning brighter
And more gracefully
Never never
Had I felt such warmth
And radiance
There was nothing I could do
But be consumed
Always always
To be in love
In this madness
Made of you

Dreamless sleep of eternity
Sleepless tears of love
Bloodless heart keeps beating
Boneless ghost keeps haunting
Forever's end repeating...

Strangers
We're all strangers
No matter how long
We know each other
Love each other
Wether its days or weeks or years
Of loving and fighting and *******
Spending our days of cold silence
And warm whispers together
Lonely nights in the same bed
And desperate longing when apart
Where just strangers
All of us
Married for years
Or stumbling through that first night
Of awkward first kisses and trembling hands
Strangers pretending to know more
And love more than we truthfully know how
Moaning names through the night and grumbling the daylight away
Just for that dreadful moment of false peace and happiness

None of us knowing anymore about anyone else than we know about ourselves
And we know nothing of ourselves
Faking the word
Pretending to feel

Unless you get lucky... not many do.  But theres a few rare gems out there that know  
The mad, the lunatics, those who refused the pill and choose the sickness
Those that would rather live ten million life times of anguish and torment just so they could feel one perfect moment of pure beauty and truth
Those seeking out the strange ones amongst the strangers
Those who do not pretend but know the how and dance with the why and its madness
Those that write their names across the clouds of heaven in stars blood
Those who kiss the angels and dance with demons
Those that have found each other life after life
Those who have swam through black holes
And walked on the surface of the sun just for that one moment to be together
That moment of beautiful  painful truth of love shared
Tangling body and heart and soul
Where they both become the singular heart beat of love resonating throughout the universe.  A sound that makes even the horizon of eternity shudder with pleasure.
I only knew strangers most of my life
A few strange ones here and there
And we had our moments
Of beauty and truth
But never a strange one like this
No nothing like this
In this one
I found that one perfect moment
That once in a lifetime love
And falling
And have fallen
To this mad mad love
For her
It is the honey gods are made of

Are you a dream come true
Or a noose around my neck


Im going to go dancing with a revolver in my mouth and razors strapped to my wrists and if I'm lucky I won't be waking up in the morning

Let me say thank you
Thank you to all the cold faces
  without a home to sleep in
To all the stray cats wandering dark alleys
  empty of everything but our trash
Thank you  to a world that would rather
  be blind than compassionate
Thank you to all the intelligent, god fearing
  men who refuse to give up on war
To all our children who will die out in the
  battlefield just to keep grave diggers
    and empty promises in business
Thank you to a world that sees more value
  in profits than in lives
After all the earth is overpopulated and the
  rich could never be too rich
Thank you for the illusion of freedom
Thank you for hiding slavery in plain sight
Thank you for throwing out more than
  enough food to feed the hungry
Thank you for all the empty houses and
  overcrowded shelters
Thank you for this world full of ****...

Thank you...

Because out there somewhere, hiding in all
the cracks and crevices of all your filth
Beauty is hiding and it is not alone
Hope is planting its seeds and they are all
  trying to save you  children
And teach them a better way to live.
To take the blinders off their heads and let
  them see you for the monster you truly
     are
A world gone mad with greed, a world that
  has  replaced its hearts blood with cold
     steel and bank notes
Thank you to a world that is running out of
  time while perpetuating the lie that
     everything will be fine
Thank you to the end we cannot know
Will there be money in the bank with no
   one to spend it
Or will there be poor people with beautiful
  hearts and more than enough love to
     share

Under the influence of a dream
Under the influence of desire
Under the influence of her smile
Under the infuence of her gaze
Under the influence of this monster
  sleeping inside my heart

She moved methodically with lucid dreams
  streaked through the fibers of her hair
Her skin was made from sheets cut from
  the clouds that drifted lazily over heaven
Her eyes where iridescent pearls stolen
  from the depths of the pools of paradise
She twirled lighting between her fingers
  and pulled magic out of coins
Her voice carried the soft comforts of
  thunder
And she often whispered of the smell of
  rain
While playing songs about november on
  the broken strings of a dead piano
She could hypnotize the flame of a candle
  and set the whole world ablaze
As she hummed along with the madness
  hidden between the wings of moths
She pulled cotton candy out of  thin air
  and blow smoke rings that tasted of
    whiskey and lust
Her lips were glazed with a tranquil poison
  that held the promise of love
While the honey dripping from her tounge
  warned of the suicde of romance
I stared a moment too long and found
  myself tangled in a lucid dream
    caught between life and death

On the good days, the words flutter around like butterflies waiting patiently to be choosen.  Other days, the dark uncertain times, they swarm you like hornets, stinging you over and over again.  Making the words fall from your eyes like tears splashing onto the page. You can avoid the whole thing,  by being normal, choose the hallmark life, pre-made and hollow love, never know mad love, never go crazy.  Live  the easy life, never risk anything, stay far far away from the edge.  If you want to call that living.  Bee bites and butterfly kisses, you can't just choose one, you have to live with them both.  The light wings of love and the swollen  eyes and hands from the stingers in your heart and soul... That's my life, the life I want at least... sleeping in the mouth of madness.  Somedays... it hurts, painful heart-wrenching hurt, Somedays its just so ******* beautiful all you do is weep at being alive to witness it.  Beautiful pain and heart breaking love... mad mad love.  How's that song go...

"You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me"

Is that the stones...No Joel you say, so you've heard it... but did you really listen, down in your gut far down below your ears.  See that's one of the problems of the easy life, they don't teach you to listen, really listen where it matters.  Deep down in your dark belly full of demons and monsters and devils, where all the do is listen and if you let them... they turn it all into mad love to keep you alive, really alive.  Not that fake life so many people are so desperate to live.  Every one so ******  afraid of letting a little pain or misery into their lives, all just wanting to be "happy".  Never learning or realizing what they end up missing out on.  A miserable life, there's a secret to it that they won't share with you.  To be miserable, truely  miserable... you have to be touched at least once, just once, by mad crazy stark raving lunatic mad love.  You have to have danced in the mountains of madness for just a second.  And that single touch and that single moment of dancing there among the lunatics of love... that kind of love, never leaves you.  It shoots straight to the marrow of your bones, the bottom of your bottomless heart, soaks into the darkness in the depths of your soul.  It may not stay in your arms or your bed, it may not last as long as it promised or you wanted... but it never just flat out leaves you.  It stays... after every other fire burns out, after every star falls from the sky, after the moon and sun commit their last act of love for each other and both drink each others poison, when the whole of existence just "poofs" and dissappears... That mad love will still be there.  And all those lucky lunatics who went mad and loved crazy will have it all to themselves... MmmHmmm, nothing but that Madness and love.  What a god forsaken beautiful **** fest of an **** that's going to be... just madness and love free from all the other *******, going at it like a couple of teens who just discovered the ability to ******.  And misery knows it, misey hates it.  Because misery can bend you over in a dark alley and take you by force... but misery goes away at just the hope of love, in the presence of love its nothing more than a mist and a ghost.  It might whisper to you behind loves back... but never face to face with love.  Misery is one of the merchants peddling the easy life with the pre-made hollow love and ideal of a happy safe life far away from that scary forbidden edge.  Don't fall for it... find your reason to go mad, find your passenger to drive laughing over the edge with.  Embrace your lunatic and fill your heart and your life with that mad mad love.  Be your miserable ******* self to the core and bitter end... if you need me, you can find me at the mouth of madness, just listen, you'll hear me singing, horribly and off key and out of tune, you can hear me singing to the moon.  You may not belive it, I know it sounds crazy... but baby your the one that saved me.  I'll be waiting here in this mad mad love you gave me... nothing beautiful left in this life for me to do... Thank you... I hope you know I love you.

The hateful state of the new american way
what a monstrous thing
we have made of the dream
fear rules the simple minded
and the simple minded don’t mind
the mess we have made of everything

history repeats itself
as we have learned nothing
from our past mistakes
rinse reload repeat
a brand new ****** day
for the new american way

not safe in the school yards
not safe in the churches
and synagogues
not safe in our own skin

how do we fight the monster
that stays invisible
until the moment it squeezes
the trigger of a gun full of bullets
from a heart full of hate

what has might ever made right
when war after war treaties are signed
but the peace that is kept
is nothing more than a powder keg
waiting to explode

unfortunately hatred
survived the holocaust too

Maybe I'm just bored
With *******
Or maybe the brush
Just fells better
In my hand
Or it could be the colors
That distract
The blood flow
Up
Instead of down
Or maybe its
Something deeper
Gnawing
At my
Flesh
From within
My bones
****
Its the silence
And
The solitude
And the
Darkness
Spilling out
The ugly
Truth of beauty
Of
Spending
Time
Alone

The Hempstock mice know all
all that is good
and all that is bad
and all that is too horrible to be known
they are the oldest of the old
they come from a place before
the place of nothing
and the time before
the beginning of the first time before
and if you believe the rumors
or if you don’t believe the rumors
they will be here long after
the last time of all

They have traveled the abyss
and set sail in and charted the void
they can gnaw through time and space
and reality is nothing
they cannot bend
or turn
or rearrange
or extinguish with just a thought

Let us be thankful
that they are animals of kindness
creatures of wisdom
spirits of love
and mice that believe in forgiveness

Their paws are hands that craft things
all things
from the first heart of the first star
to the black feathers
of the first raven and crow
they will craft the quill and the ink
that will write last word
of the last story to ever be told

They named the gods
that named your parents
that named you
and painted the names
of tomorrows children
in the heart of yesterdays dreams

They have seen the end
since before the beginning
and when nothing comes back
they will swallow

Time

and

Dream

and

Life

and keep them safe in their belly
and gnaw through to new beginnings
and their paws will be busy hands
crafting things
all things
and when they have made
the universe comfortable once more
they will let us fall
from the belly of their womb
and we will be the children of tomorrow
born from the heart of yesterday

Oldest of the old
wisest of the wise
kindest of the kind

Mice of all mice
mothers and fathers
of love and forgiveness

The Hempstock Mice

And here we are, a bunch of
  bad poets writing bad poetry
   liking each others thoughts while
    hating our own words, trying to
     keep ourselves open and free in
      a world full of cages and traps, pens
       full of ink, thoughts full of rage, a blank
        white surface being turned into a stage and
          we're yelling and screaming in vain as another
            bad poem dies on the page...