Ten Black Tents
Streets are bare as a babies arm
A breakfast of Champions
Waves his white flag,
Seeing seeing seeing
That the war was lost

A long time ago.

Admit defeat
And feel the cool rush of
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom

Are we not men?
Are we not women?
Are we not

Human beings on a minuscule,
Smoke filled planet and breaking the bones
We are born upon
To see the state of stars, shining bright and
Emtionless; void
Of any past relationships and thinking of
Father, his face flushed and red, puffy and non-complacent,
Lost in

No thought, but a million

All at the same time.

To make it impersonal,
Away from oneself,
Off and away and in another room,
Seeing the light skip across the puddle,
Bound across and into the alleyway,
Flashing stares in a nuclear fashion,
Asking the naked clerk if the best thing to do is:

Just give up.

Instead,
The clerk hears not what you say,
So you walk away,

Thinking this you better change for the better
Or else most and all and this you

Doesn't really seem worth it at all.

There's only one
Voice a
Writer
Has to listen to:

Your owns.

Everything else is
A
Humming sprawl of locusts,
Beating down, trying to sway the hand
From what they've known all along.

Listen
To your own
Voice.

Never sway.

Let ridicule become the air
In your lungs.

Let the reviews (if you ever get any)
Be like rain
Through your fingers.

Let the 1/2 star be but a blink for you and
A lifetime
For the others.

Listen to
Your voice.
Take time
To listen.
Be afraid of yourself
But let not
That fear drive you away
From

Yourself.

Step toward the mirror.
Step into the frothing, bubbling water.
Be not afraid of getting burned.

Those who make it out from the fire
Have seen hell and the infallible flesh
We are all bound to and how bad and how good

It really all is.

He made his way
Way
Out west,
Where the land was open, blue, and
Free.

There's nothing here
That reminds him of
There.

What he missed of home
He could not
Say.

We are all just
Minstrel boats awaiting
A sandy shore;
Fearful and half-unwanted.

I've got a blue eyed girl
On my mind and my eye.
She plays with the summer rain
An' keeps me in due refrain.
She left a hole in my heart and
Hole in my brain.
I've never felt more perturbed
When she left me sitting there
Torn up, half-dead, on the the curb.

Last train
Rolling around the curve
Life's nothing
But dealing
With the verve
Whisper me a riddle
Tell me a tale
You be the book baby
I'll be the sale.

She
Is the last phrase
To my
Poetry
Phase

She lists
All my
Ingredients

When I think
Of Love
Before
And
After Death...
I think
Of her, grinning mad
Like Kerouac Prose,
Dancing with the wild blue yonder,
Arms spread,
Soul mingling with Dylan's obscurity;
Patiences perturberness.

I ask my love
What her real name
Should be:
A name you'd never think
Of
In war, but a name
You'd think of
In war.
She dies with me
As we are birthed again
In
Another

Place.

She is my
Half.
I am her
Other.
We walk through the burning fields
Of doubtful fate,
Counting the four leafs,
Praising the stars.

I roll over and kiss
Her
Shoulder.
I dream of her,
Even when
I wish not to.
Talk to the sparrow for
He is
My friend...
He knows how I feel.
When you touch a memory
That was a memory
Before thee', there is nothing to do
But continue on
Doing'.

I reached for her
Over the smoldering rocks
Of
Anger and doubt.
I felt her fingers
Against mine.
I felt her breath
Rise up
My shaken spine.

I felt her.

Ten fires burn
In the distance.

A man looks behind himself
Before he turns.

Nights fortitude
Mixes
With love.

We Forget.

Forefathers
Of way-senders,
Sifting through old boxes
Of tin made smiles and
Mis-matched fortunes.

A letter rests on the nightstand.
It rests near
The fountain.
We were always so far away.
Like a distant lake.
Like a mountain.

When the lights
Are turned out and the dripping
Ceases
From its
Spout,

Think of me when you are with he.
There is no other place
I'd rather be
But in-between thoughts
Of joy and
Misery.

A candle for
The
Hour.

A light for
The
Minute.

Only in the flame
Do we know
We are truly in
And living in
Time.

I've attached
Every thought I've
Had
To
Electronic
Dream Weavers.

I've got no more
Strength
To give, yet I hear
A whisper.

Another attention getter.

Another bidder.

Another hitter.

Wake for her.
Wake for you.

Wake for her
And you
Together.

Intertwined
In wine
Covered in needles of
Aged' thyme.

The grass on the field
Is
Green. No, don't
Deny it.

I'm weary of stasis.

It's a bird
Upon my shelf.

I'm out of mind.
I'm out of places.

One more time
I look at he and he
Looks at me.

We
Whistle
Through the threshold of this

Modern Day, all the while
Knowing after,

There won't

Be much left

To

Say.

What's wrong
With
These worries?

What's troubling
My
Mind?

Lately you know
Time ain't been feeling
Like
It's on
My side.

Got a lady
She's dressed in blue.

Got a lady
Born down on the bayou.

Got a lady
Oh'

What to do
What to do
What to do

When she's acting
This or that a way...

What's a simple man
To do?

Just the other day
I asked her to stay the night
Oh' she left quick
Oh she left
In quite
A fright

I rang her doorbell
The next day
And her father Bo' answered...
Boy'
You know I was through

He asked, What you doing round' here?
What you need?

I turned myself around and
Redefined the word speed

A week passed
Without a word
From her
My phone sat on my nightstand
As if it were dead

My days were:
Wake up
Go to work
Go home
And go to bed.

You know
Now I see
Whats been troubling my
Mixed up mind...

You know
Now I see
What's been eatin' up
All my time

You know
I think
I'll never
Let
Myself

Tumble into love

Again.

Two-tone love affair
Ten a diamonds
A winning pair
River runs through my heart
And into yours
Without your love
I'd be nowhere at all
I'd be in a death crawl
Tail-spinning
Fall

Where are you
When you're
Not with me?

What can life be
But me
Missing thee?

What is two
Without it following
Three?

Life is a triangle - too many points
I'm no preacher  
I'm no God fearing man
Give me holy water and I'd drink it
He who acts first
Benefits

Lines on the walls
Paints peeling
Up down
Through and through
What's a lover gonna' do
Without their other?
What's a lover gonna' do
When they lose
Their summer?
What's a lover gonna' do
When the one they love
Has up and gone
And their forced
To find another?

Proud sister
Between clean sheets
Scent of
Chamomile tea an'
Sweet mysteries

There's blue smoke in my eyes
Exploding
Roaring
Bubble-wrapped
Surprise

Been alone
All
These years,
But who's to say
I even miss her
But me
Anymore?

I watched the wakes,
Their rise and fall.
The sun was up
In what seemed to be
A lazy crawl.

Lantern lady,
Mistress of the night:
Can you send me a letter?
Can you give me a call?
Can you stop on by and tell me that
The true know how to fight?

Another denial an'
I'm on the streets,
Passing Chinese cats adorn
Dusty window shades.

A far eye can say what was right
Or wrong,
But when two lover's drift apart
It's a splitting of the seas,
Where everything in between
Is downright and utter

Misery.

Last September,
When we came back
I made a pact
I'd take my crack
Of making what I make
Without self-consciousness, remorse,
Or loathing, but what is a man
When he tries to rid
Himself of necessary poisons.

I didn't know and I still don't.
And you know I still drink but lately
I have to hold my hand,
Still my bill for
What's good for the other
Is where my thoughts need to go
So with her I can see
The coming Winter snow.

When the voice has left,
I'll still
Have my hands.

Take my limbs, take my hair,
Take my muscles, oh' take eyes,
But as long as I got my fingers
An' two hands to reach for pride,
I'll never be silenced,
Even if
She's not near.

Don't think
I don't need her.

She's the wind through the branches,
The shells in my shoes,
The sun through the window,
Even if she acts sometimes
Like she's a wading widow.

Too many complexities in insecurities -
Too much subjective reasoning.

I'm not a man
To pin
Anything down.

All I can do is
Stay true,
Keep writing these
Prose filled

Miscue's.