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

He must have been lonely
between the love poems
and the easy women
and the rare
beautifully alive women
between the thighs
wrapped around his head
grinding against his mouth
tight as a muzzle
between the blood
and the beer
and the wine
and the ink
between the bottles
and the *****
and the bars
and the shots
between the wins
and the loses
and the horses
and the races
He must have been lonely
and in love with it
the misery of it
the cheap breath of it
the loneliness of love
and it must have been beautiful
and blind
and mad
and so so alive

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...

It had the smell of love
It had the hot sticky sweat of love
It had the urgency and reckless
  passion of love
It had that god awful feel of love
It had the perfect illusion of love
But the madness was missing
And without the madness
  there was no music for their
   demons to dance to
No moon for their monsters
  to howl at
It was just flesh pilled on top
  of flesh
Loneliness dressed up in the
  guise of love
Imitating love, moving like love
But never falling like love
Never tempting that danger
Never tempting  madness
Never tempting the promises
  of forever
Never tempting true love

They lay in bed breathing easy breaths of exhaustion with their fingers locking their palms in a gently kiss, his eyes starting deeply into the universe of colors in hers and softly he spoke, “I feel that I have loved you longer than I have known life, longer than I have been... I can’t remember a day or time that my heart did not know or sing your name, I can’t recall a memory that you are not a part of... as if I have loved you from within my mothers womb all the way to this very moment...it’s as if we never meet... as if somehow we just always were.  Tell me, is it true... have you always been here, here in my heart... from it’s very first beat?”, he asked as he moved their hands over the middle of his chest where his heart sang below.  “Or are you just a dream... or am I?  Is any of this real?”
“I am not just a dream... I am Dream, I am all dreams... I am the dream of all the stars wishing to be made of flesh and I am the dream of every child wishing they could fly.  I am the dream of every god wishing they were never given names.  I am the dream of the salt and the blood swimming in the sea and I am the dream of every grain of sand and every leaf floating on the wind... and it is all real, as real as you and I, every dream every whispered, every dream sown into every wish... and you... you are more than just a dream... you are my first love and my last love, always, you are the time in every moment of every breath of everything I do... I can not exist or live without you and you do not live without my dream of loving you... and Life is our child, all life, and we give life dreams and love and time and let it run wild and free.  We are tied to each other in mystery and magic and knowing of things that can’t be known or spoken... We exist for an eternity together and then in a moment we are gone and we sleep and we rest and all goes quite and not a thing is dreamt and time does not move or exist while we sleep...”
“And what of our love while we sleep?”
“It watches over us and keeps us safe.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
“Do we come back... do we wake up again... will we remember?”
“Yes and no and yes... you will be Time and I will be Dream again... in the time ahead, and we will live and love and dream and give life to dreams and dreams to life and time and love to both... it will all be different and it will all feel the same and this will and will not be true but it will never be a lie... a new story for a new Dream and a new Time, as there is always a time before now and a time ahead of now... but for now we will rest and sleep and love will keep us safe.”
He went to speak again and she gently pushed a finger to his lips and without making a sound Dream said, “shhhhhh... sleep, sleep Time, sleep...”
And Dream and Time slept and the time of now was gone and love sighed and sat and watched and yawned knowing what could not be known or spoken and smiled to know that the circle would come round again and Life would be born from Dream and Time and love would be there waiting to be given and shared and lost and found and broken and healed and it would laugh when it could and it would cry when it needed and no matter what, it would always be there as a part of Life and Time and Dream.

Electric Jesus flash me those pearly
  whites
Show me who is worthless
Show me who to loathe
Show me who to ******
Electric Jesus plug me into your power
  strips and mechanized hips
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me what is right
Tell me what to love
Electric Jesus with your RGB sedation
  sweeping across the nation
Teach me all your sins
Teach me all your greed
Teach me all your hate
Electric Jesus preach our needs and keep
  us on our knees
More Money!  Praise Electric!
More Power!  Praise Electric!
More, More, More ELECTRIC!

She must be of heaven to exsist between
  reality and dreams and have her face
   not change
She must be of all the cosmos to so
  effortlessly outshine every sun, star,
    and moon
She must be the secret whisper of sleep
  to calm the monster and give its heart
   peace
She must be the hours hidden between
  the seconds of when one starts to
    fall
She must be the madness and beauty
  and perfection of love

Tell me Maya Lou
  How to be brave like you
Tell me Maya Lou
  Have you seen the news
Because I tell you Maya Lou
   It frightens me, this word
                                  this life
That shadow on the wall
  Just shot a man in the back
With hands up down the hall
It frightens me, the noise the hanmer made
  the life the bullet took away
The big man barks and bares his bullet
  teeth
The man laying on the ground
Watching his skin turn red
  Now a ghost on a big cloud
It frightens me, to see a life slip away
  without warrant or reason
Nothing has changed for Mother Goose
Throw another noose around the lions
  driving cars
     It looks too new
       It must not belong to you
It frightens me, wasn't he suppose to
   protect what he just destroyed
     turning a home into a house
       of joyless stone and wood
What magic or what charm
  can keep their lives safe
   from harm
There's a broken heart
   on my sleeve
For every life lost
For every tear shed
It's an ocean of grief
   and I can no longer
                            breath
Tell me Maya Lou
    I can hear you crying
                                   too
Tell me Maya Lou
   What would you say
      What would King dream
To keep the peace
  To calm the storm
To stop the bullets flying
  back and forth
   forth and back
Tell me Maya Lou
  where did we go wrong
    why is the world tearing
       itself open at the seams
It frightens me, the growing
  flames of hate burning both
    life and love
Tell me Maya Lou
  How to be brave like you
I tell you Maya Lou
Life frightens me...
  to tears
   to tears
Life frightens me...
     to tears

The poems were just falling out, I was walking into words much like stumbling through spider webs in the dark.  Some coming too fast to have time to find a sketch pad, or a new one already dancing in my head before the last one was written down.  Post it notes started to come in handy.  Waking up in the middle of the night with words waiting and glowing on my bedroom wall, hands stumpling in the dark for my phone and my eyes not yet focused but my fingers tapping away.  My admiration and wonder for you started to bloom into the sensation of falling... and then I started to fall.    

Messages weren't so easy... no where to hide.  My fingers would hover over the keyboard and my eyes transfixed on an empty message box for hours...sometimes  even days.  My heart wanted to shout and shout and shout, but my mind was terrified and shy and wanted to stay silent.  Reason and sense said say nothing at all... just walk away.  But my heart was caving into the madness of impossible possibilities and beautiful tragedies with happy endings.  I ended up stuck between the two and sent small talk, constantly afraid of saying too much and steering  clear of all the things I really wanted to say.  Hiding all my secrets in the plain sight of poetry and silencing my heart through the messages...

What was happening
How did I fall so fast
It was crazy
And mad
And beautiful
And it made me smile
And the simplest message
Made my heart howl
And race
And I felt
Excited and
Exhilarated
And
Terrified
And
Happy
And everything
No matter how
Repetitive or mundane
Or ordinary
Everything was
Suddenly beautiful
Every part of
Every day and
Every night
And every dream
Everythig beautiful
Everything about me
Started falling
For every part
Of you

And I could keep everything safe as long as the messages stayed simple, careful to never say too much.  Save all that for the middle of the night, stumbling in the dark, out of focus, over the top poetry.  Writing between the lines and hiding  behind metaphors of falling, careful not to let on that I'm madly and completely In love with you.  Because that... that just doesn't make sense.  Unless, you ask the mad truth beating in my heart.  There, in the crazy beauty of it all it does.  It makes perfect sense.  Because there I can hide behind...

Every word
Every syllable
Every letter...
And I fall a little more
Falling faster
Falling deeper
Every sound
Every image
Every message
And my heart escapes me
Beating wildly
Flying madly
Every morning
Every day
Every evening
Always dreaming
Always smiling
Always falling
For everything
Of you

You may not have pulled the trigger
but your fingerprints were on every bullet
that left the barrel of the gun
so when looking at the dead heart
pinned and bleeding on the wall
know you did your part to stop its beating
and that innocence is something you can't reclaim
with the white lies painted on the teeth
framed within your crooked smile
and now I see your beauty
was nothing more than smoke and mirrors
off the reflection of the gun

Blake has written it all and written it
in perfect clarity and beauty
and Baudelaire topped it
with decadence and forbidden pleasures
and  Kerouac took it on the road
and gave it a beat
and Bukowski redefined and simplified
and told all its ugly truths
and got it drunk on beer and women

yet still we sit here poor men and women
and boys and girls
scratching away in our journals
and typing at our refurbished vintage typewriters
and cheap plastic keyboards
attached to overpriced laptops
made of fruit and ego

trying to add to the vast pile of treasure
left behind by Coleridge and Thoreau and Whitman
and Mother Maya Angelou
trying to write ourselves in and out
of the corners of solitude and madness
following in the echos of Plath and Dickinson and Poe

we pickpocket dead myths
and dig up their bones
and dance in the fields of their deaths
and claim their prayers as our own
and play the part of god
as we invent new ways to sin
and feel shame for walking naked
in our own bodies
and daring to enjoy lust
and desire and love

it’s all worthless garbage
and it’s all priceless time well spent
shouting into the void of our meaningless existence
and all the vast emptiness of space takes no notice
no matter who loudly we bash our pans
and pound our fists
and ******* our overinflated sense of self worth

we are helplessly alone
stuffed in overcrowded tin containers
packed tightly in our human misery
willing to sleep with one another
but afraid to look each other in the eye
and see who it really is
we’re sharing our beds with
because we would rather
just imagine it really is love
and not find out if its the truth of love
we’re trying to define
within the fragility of our hearts

we wait till our beds are empty
and our hands are cold
and then we pick up our pens
and strike our keyboards
and lay down lies over the truth
we are afraid to uncover
and we treat it poorly
by doing this again and again

yet it defies us still with its volume and weight
and no matter how many times
are how many ways
we re-write the same poem
over and over and over
the heart stays the same
no matter what color we paint it
red or black or bruised sky blue
what tear lost in the ocean
or ocean trapped in a tear
it remains within the grasp
of the same endless heart beat
coming from the same eternal heart

no matter how many times
a new giant or new lord or new king
or new queen or fool are crowned
and wether they type streams of garbage
or write on leafs inlaid with gold
we will always be connected
by the necessity
of the painful beauty of poetry

Is love so cruel
Am I only destined to be stuck dreaming
  of you
While you're never to be dreaming
  of me
We're living our lives in different times
  and different places
And I would come to you
If it were my face you saw when
  you dreamed
If it were my name you whispered
  in your sleep
If I knew I would never have to leave
And if I could just have five minutes
  or an hour or a night
If I could only tell you how far into
  my life my heart has taken this dream
I've seen my feet step off of a plane
I've seen you sitting across from me
I've seen us laughing and crying and
  sighing
I've seen my awkward attempt at our
  first kiss
I've seen you chase and catch me under
  the sheets
I've watched you under the moon that
   turned into the sun and the sun back
   into the moon
I've seen the plans and proposal and
   wedding over looking the sea
I've seen little versions of you chasing
  little versions of me
I've seen my eyes grow old watching the
  eternal beauty in yours
I've seen myself die and I've seen myself
  waiting for you on the other side
And I've seen the whole story over
  again and again
But is love so cruel that its only real in
  this dream
And never to surface as we live our lives
  in different times and different places
You've filled my heart and now it
  overflows
And you already live deeply and eternaly
  in my heart
If only you could come and be by my side
And we could both find that love isn't
  always so cruel

I miss you
And I know it all
Seems as if its
Just abstract flirtation
And hopeless poetry
For the spirit of romantic gesture
And that it isn't truely...
That deep craving
Of endless oceans
And time weathered shores
Of waves cashing
With every beat
Of a heart
So desperately
And sickly
In love
That it could
Never die
Or be
Broken
And the simple
Madness of the truth
Isn't able to be
Writen or spoken
With any alphabet
Or language
And I could
Never describe
The how or when
Of it all
But I do
Know I will
Always be falling
Here
In this place
Where
I miss you

The crows are going
  to rise up
over the black asphalt
  city skyline

singing into the
  blood red sky
   hearts crowned
    with fire and hope

flying high and free
   flying over
     the mountain tops

singing of the
   promised land

singing for the dead
   but not forgotten

singing words
  of flame
    and poetry

singing for
   freedom
     and unity

I'm a poor father, that is to say my yearly income is nothing to brag about.  According to our government as of last year, I am now above the poverty line, so I realize there are many out there struggling more than I am.... too many, theres no reason for poverty to be so common in todays world.  I have my 9 to 5 life (though its not actually those specific hours),  I have a car to get me from here to there and back again and thats all it is, I live in a house that isn't impressive to look at, it's liveable and functional, and most importantly I have a little boy to take care of.  He's my only child, but he has a half sister and a half brother, so he's not an only child.  He's  almost 8 yrs old, unfortunately and fortunately since his mother and I went our separate ways I've gotten to spend half his life with him .  A week with me, a week with his mom, thats been his life since he was 6 months old.  Over the years I've grown  closer and developed a much stronger bound with him  than his mother has.  I taught him to read, add, subtract, multiply, divide, and write.  Reading time has been a major part of our life,  we've read hundreds and hundreds of books (and theres probably a few of those books we've read a hundred times each).  I've encourgaed him to exercise his brain daily, both for mental dexterity and creative agility.  I won't claim I taught him to draw or anything like that, like all kids he just picked up crayons and makers and pencils and brushes and went at it.  As he got older I gave him suggestions and "helped" if he asked but mostly I just watched and encouraged.  Nothing is more important to me than his health and happiness.  I took part in bringing him into this world because I wanted to be a father, I wanted to raise a child,  I wanted the challenges and responsibilities, I wanted the joys and the heartaches, the sleepless nights and the sleeping in, late night binges and earlier morning breakfasts....all the things I thought would be wonderful and amazing.  As great as I thought it would be, and I thought it would be beyond my wildest dreams,  its been so much more than I could have imagined.  I know as a parent I'm going to naturally want to brag and say what an amazing kid he is.  So I am. He is an amazingly beautiful little guy,  his heart is already too big for this world.  He's as kind and compassionate and empathetic, it's easy to forget his just a kid sometimes.  He's not perfect, he's silly and goofy and acts just like any other boy his age.  He makes mistakes, he runs in the hall and plays in the bathroom and talks during quite time and gets too excited and doesnt always listen the 1st or 2nd  or 3rd time and stands in the corner every now and then.  But he's a good kid with a good  heart and at this point in his life a better person than most of us (a more common trait in children than I think most "adults" would care to admit).  There's been no greater privilege in my life than being his dad.  We love each other, I'm not going to try to claim more than any other parent and child love each other but at least as much as any other can.  For the last 2 or 3 years (I can't recall the exact first time) he's been wishing and asking to just live with "dad".   It started off with cute expressions like "Dad, I wish I could be with you a million days and only have to see mom one day.", to crying "I don't want to go back to mom's, I want to stay with you.", to asking "Why can't I just live with you all the time?".  And every time, I sat down with him and explained that wouldn't be fair to mom and mom loves you just as much as I do and me and mom agreed to share you equally and deciding on who he wants to live with is a "Big Boy" decision  and he would have to have a "Big Boy" talk with mom one day, but he had to know that telling mom he wanted to live with dad would hurt moms felling so maybe we should wait until he was older.  However, mom wants to move somewhere were it wouldn't be possible to keep up the other every week and now we're in court...
It wasn't an easy decision to make, lawyers are expensive, outcomes are unknown until its all over.... I didn't have to ask where he would choose if it was his choice, but I did.  I've witnessed the heartache in his eyes week after week our last few days together for years now.  I know if I just let him go he would be devasted and heartbroken.  Now here we are waiting... my lawyer is hoping by christmas we'll be done.  Every now and then he asks, "What if mom wins?", and I have to choke down the tears and stop myself from crying and sit him down and put on a brave face and tell him "At least we tried, we just have to do our best, and no matter what happens always remember  we love each other and nothing will ever change that."  I wish I had a better answer... and every now and then I wish it was the other way around, that he would be happier at moms or at least just as happy.  It would be easy to let him go if it meant he would be happy.  There's nothing more beautiful than your childs smile, nothing more pleasing to your ears than their laughter, no greater privilege than keeping their minds, their hearts, and their spirits healthy. To teach them to be kind and generous, to show them no matter how little you have you always have enough to share,  to protect their innocence, to give them magic to belive in... to let them be children in the short time they have to be so.  As they grow through their childhood, encourage the things they love, push their minds and hearts towards the things that make them smile, give them the tools to develop discipline and a good work ethic.  There's no stopping time, and time will always steal some of everyones innocence, but we can teach our children to hold onto at the very least the ghost of their innocence.  Show them its not the size of their house, or the price tag of their car, or how many figures and zeros on their paychecks that makes them rich or successful, but instead it's the amount of love in their hearts they have to give to the world that will either make them rich or poor.  On paper, on the surface of my appearance, I'm just a poor father, one of too many on the world,  I drive a car that goes but has no vroom, I live in a house that won't ever end up on the pages of a magazine...  But that little guy of mine, what he's given my heart, what his smile does for our home.... There's  no on richer, no one living in bigger or more beautiful castle.

Who are we but monsters
  to allow ourselves to become
   what we have become
Devouring electricity at night to
  produce an artificial glow
Light pollution on the grow
Pushing the twinkling of the stars
  out of view
And all we're left with is a dull dark
  greyish blue
We can no longer see the beauty of
  how small we really are
The earth just a pebble compared to
  sun and that sun just a grain of sand
   in the cosmos that reaches farther than
    we can comprehend
And like fools we play the part of god
Toying with the balance of life and death
Deconstructing the grace of innocence
The time of youth being pushed back
Children growing up too fast
Stealing away their finite hours to
   enjoy their toys
And we shackle their dreams and hopes
And allow them to believe our lies
Teach them that cash flow is more important
  than blood flow
That there's nothing wrong with ******
  at times of war
Even though in today's time and age there's
  no sane way to explain what we are
    fighting for
Love should always beat hate... but it doesn't
Compassion should come easier than
  complacency...but it doesn't
Kindness should exceed greed... but it doesn't
Who are we but monsters and fools pretending
  to be gods

Let's lay down on a blanket
made of stars and the night
and will watch life pass
like clouds in a dream
made of me loving you
and you loving me
and we will collide and connect
and burst through
our sins and the sun
we will lay heaven to waste
and burn hell and its gates
to rubble and cinder and ash
and will make fools out
of desire and lust
and wear them like a second skin
and you'll be my moon
and my prayer
and my sleepy time song
and I'll be your pulse
and your rhythm
and your bedtime story lullaby
and we'll sleep
and we'll dream
and we'll love
on a blanket made of stars
and the night

what has our intelligence done for us
other than soften our instinct
slow down our reflex
made us into habitual
connoisseurs of convenience
curators of insta-gratification  
creatures of know it all
without the need
to understand anything
the universe just
a night sky out of reach
just a spattering of stars dot the sky
all the cosmos overhead
and we are too consumed
by the blue screens that feed
the narcissism of our egos
to look up in awe and wonder
to question the arrogance
of our intelligence
to see how little we know
about the things we know
as we have killed the view of heaven
with the artificial light of our pollution
facts blurred with faith
and we ignore all the fiction
that causes so much friction
that we allow our children...
that we force our children...
to ****** other children
boys feeling like men
poisoned by patriotism and pride
in such a rush to die
for the words of freedom
never stopping to question
the definition of the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the repetition
and redundancy of war
never stopping to question
the redundancy
never stopping
the redundancy
the redundancy of war
as we will not question the intelligence
that infects us with
the sovereignty to be exalted
by our own cruelty
how else could we excuse
our history that keeps repeating
keeps its transcripts written
in the death and blood of the innocent
mislead by prejudice and hate
taught by fear and ignorance
all brought to us
by what we call intelligence

why were we given these hearts
this muscle beating below our ribs
what good is it
if only driven
by the intellect of our minds
our self indulgent intelligence
why have hearts at all
if we never stop to listen
listen to the message
of its beating
its pounding on our ribs
if we never stop to accept the wisdom
it sings in ever silent word
words that need no definition
need no ink or blood
written down in a declaration
of its reason to be living
it needs not our intelligence to survive
our intellect to live
it has its own wisdom
the wisdom of love
and in our grand intelligence
we are too blind to see
too deaf to hear
too unwilling to feel the truth
of how useless any intelligence is
without the wisdom of love

Sweet love won't you stay with me
Stay here in my bed where I'm lost dreaming
Stay here under my sheets where my body aches with longing
Stay here by my lips whispering your name into my pillow
Sweet love won't you stay with me
Stay in this day where I fall into you a little deeper
Stay as the stars come out and hear them sing in envy of your beauty
Stay under this moon with me and watch the sun go down as my admiration grows ever brighter
Sweet love won't you stay with me
Stay here in my heart that beats quicker for your name
Stay here by my side and in my arms full of desire
Stay here where my soul is yours consumed by your fires
Sweet, sweet love won't you stay

What if we are nothing more
than the delirium of a dream
some figment of undigested madness
in the bowels of a god
dying from starvation
in the belly of a worm
as it writhes from dehydration
baking helplessly in the sun

so dangerously close to oblivion
yet so obliviously unaware
sleeping through our lives
to avoid the pain of the disappointment
of not living out our dreams

and what if it is so easy
as opening our eyes
to see what it is
that we could be
if we dared ourselves
to step beyond our potential
and reach past
what we thought
was beyond our reach

What if?

What if we could become
something more beautiful than love

She walked across rooftops
collecting dreams from sleeping children
and placed them safely
in the nest of the arms of the stars above

She is the music in the silence
and the words and hope
in every wish and prayer

She taught fire the art of poetry
and then set the sun ablaze
and let it drift off into the sky

She carved the moon from the moody sky
and taught it the language
of melancholy lullabies
and then pinned it to the night

She is part

ocean and mist

   sand and shore

    mountain and river

      breeze and wind

       leaf and branch

and is in everything
  that is beautiful about love

If you are lucky you might hear her footsteps
gliding gracefully over your roof
and in dreaming you will see her smile
and in seeing her smile you will know
why the stars glimmer and shine

I had planned on going out
To drink a little too much
To bury sense and love
Between the legs of lust and sin
I stopped at the bookstore
In between home and my night of debauchery
Drinking money in my wallet
Words in my hand

I nearly cried

Reminded of the injustice
That spreads its ugly colors
Throughout our human history
Just the thought of what so many had no choice but to endure
Just to survive day to day
The lives lost to hate and ignorance
Mothers grieving their children
Killed over nothing other than their color
The death toll only outweighed by the  burning blood of racism
Poets writing greater truths than lawmakers and politicians
Words filled with more love and compassion
Than the man wearing his false robes of god
Preaching condemnation while committing crimes against our children
Our ***** history at our fingertips
Sitting on the shelf
So much horror
So many more disgusting stories crammed and pressed between the pages
Not enough time in one life to read it all
My heart not big enough to forgive it all
And the only thing more haunting than the past
As I sit and look over these books
These lives
These minds
These hearts
Pages bleeding with pain and grief
As I look out the window on the second floor
Of this store

I nearly cry again

I see a world still stained
Still betrayed by hate
I see a world that hasn't
******* changed

I leave the store
My wallet empty
My heart heavy
Tears crawling out
And I drive back home

Tick Tick Tock, another game of clocks
Hands full of sand, boney fingers
   grabbing what they can
Time flowing from the wrists
Blood crashing on the shores
Poison seeping into the soil
Life bleeding from the soul
Eyes dried by their tears
Lips without emotion kiss
   and drain the ocean
Warm flesh hiding cold bones
No one is living
We're all pretending
Open eyes with nobody home
Tick Tick Tock, the dying song
  for all

Take a dream to a star
****** the man in the moon
Put a bullet in his back
Watch the sky crack
Walk along the fallen pieces in the air
You will find it easiest this way
Don't mistake your tears for the rain
You will only get lost in the waves
It might feel like its been weeks
Of weeping in a dream
And thats when you will find
A starfish in a noose
Hanging just out of reach
You won't be able to take another step
Without finding your own death
You will be at the beginning of new dreams
When you find yourself
At oceans end

what a beautiful thing life is
that we can find moments
of joy in our tears

that we can become so happy
that we find we are unable
to do anything but weep

that we can find love
in both comedy and tragedy
in the simplicity of smiling
in the complexity of grieving
small gestures of gratitude
little acts of kindness

how lucky are we that we can find
our hearts with an over abundance of love
that love can overflow faster
than our hearts can beat
and our hearts can beat faster
than a falling star
desperate to find a last wish
faster than a hunger cheetah
and the gazelle trying to outrun death

how lucky am I to be here
to still be here
when there have been moments
when I had carelessly wished that I wasn’t
how many pennies have I tossed away
on thoughts that weren’t worth
the cost of thinking

and somehow I am still here
against the odds of my own self doubt
against the bets of my own loathing

how many times have I felt
that the days were too cold
the nights too long
how many winters
have I invited to stay
to keep the possibility of spring
from blooming in my heart

how poorly have I managed
both the gears and wisdom of the clock
what a grand illusion we make of time
to paste numbers on its face
to give it hands that cannot hold
what it can only watch slip away

to give measurement to something
that has no end
had no beginning
as if to mock infinity
to entrap eternity
to something so small
we could wear it on our wrists

much time is wasted
and I know this to be true
for a have wasted more
than my fair share

and yet
I am still here
and lucky to be so
what a strange and wonderful gift
to feel the autumn of death
slowly creeping through my bones
to be granted access
beyond the curtain and illusion of time
to see the magician
though a thief and a liar
is the same a fool as any can be
as many are

tomorrow is the same as today
and yesterday is still here
time cannot be tensed
by past or future stress
it can only be here
here for this one brief moment
this one short glorious pause of eternity
this long yawn slowly interrupting infinity
stuck somewhere between
the laughter of children
and the last breath of the dying

and how lucky am I
to be here
to still be here in a life
where I find moments of joy
in tears I am only
too happy to weep

If I asked
Would you answer...
If I begged
Would you accept...
If I cried
Would you belive..
If I told you
Would we...
Be lovers
In the same bed
Dreamers
That share the
Same cloud
Would my heart
Be yours
Forever
And would you
Give me your heart
To hold
For all time
Or would
These words
Written
Never be spoken
Never be answered
Never belived
And your kiss
Only a dream
Only a wish
Only a lonely fist
A missed chance
Time and again
Dreamt into something
More
Your skin
To never touch
Mine
Just empty sheets
In an empty bed
As I whisper
Your name
Myself seeps out
As lust and love
Tangle
But its not
You
On top
Of me
Just a
Mist
A ghost
A hope
Could I stop
Should I try
To end
This dream
And just
Accept
It only
Works as
A fantasy
Maybe
If I just told...
Maybe
If I just said...
Maybe
If I just ask...

It seemed easier
to fall in love
with a stranger
across the sea
someone he would
never have to meet
never have to be
courageous enough
to talk to

So he did...
or at least
pretended to...

his heart failed
to notice the difference
or at least
it played along

and he smiled
a sad weary smile
but there was joy
tucked into the
corner of his lips

and that was
comfort enough
to allow him to sit
in his solitude
without the need
to feel lonely

Liars and thieves doing nothing but spilling their corporate greed to the billionaires and share holders.
Bleeding the poor and denying the hunger
Throwing out mountains of food
False apologies and the facade of charitable acts
Making excuses for their criminal acts
Looking the other way while saying its possible to survive on an outdated minimum wage.
Billions with a ******* "B"
That's how much profit their making
While forcing you down to your knees
Working till your fingers bleed
Expecting you to sacrifice your pride,principles, and basic human needs.

She was a plague of desire
a dance of syllables
just out of the reach of his tongue
a name that was a prayer
written on the skin of his heart

a language he couldn’t speak
except when  lost in the trance
of a dream boiling over
with the lust running mad in his blood

a fever burning inside his bones
to feel her tremble against his lips
and wandering fingertips
that travel the forbidden paths
along her spines skin of pleasure

the quite hush of gods making flesh
to be blessed with the secrets
of honey and blood
to be poured over
and flow from the pulse
and the rhythm
of the lost art of making love
while dancing in beds
made out of the shadows of sin

a quite lullaby roaring
from under his pillow
that made his ears desperate
with longing to hear
the songs that play
from within the cage of her ribs

a place of hunger
that could only be satisfied
when left with wanting more
of the blood and the flesh
and the body of her rapture
when lost in the euphoria
of finding love under blankets
woven from lust
and where no pleasure
is stained with the guilt
or definition of sin

Lets count the stars tonight
Under the comfort of dreams
Just you and me
Lets count the stars each night
Until the end of my life
For the rest of your life
Count them down to one
When the star that warms the day
Comes crawling over the distant
And cast shade over us
Then let us rest under this tree
Planted by you
Planted by me
Under the comfort of dreams
Where we will lay until the sun sleeps
Then lets count the stars again
And again and
again
Till we have counted every one
And recorded every breath
And felt every beat
And died over and over
In each others arms
While counting the stars
Under the comfort of dreams

to dream of mice dreaming
  to see things different
    than they are
to rearrange reality
  from this state of horror
    to something kinder
      more forgiving

a world absent of hate
   free of ego
    no need for language
      only soft silence
    and unspoken poetry
      harmony and music

no wanting of the wasteful
  no need of needless things
    all desires rooted
      to the heart of love

no more use for the illusion of time
  forever and eternity married
    in the palm of our hands
     day and night lost
      with the wildflowers dancing
        within our pulse

all our blood flowed together
  forming a river wide enough
    for the sun to rest in
      to float down

as we shed our humanity
   and become mice dreaming
     of ourselves
   kinder and more forgiving
     than we are