birds spend
as much time
on the ground
eating maggots,
as they do
in that soaring
we perceive
as majestic freedom,
as we spend
in shopping malls,
online stalls,
buying future trash,
as we spend,
in what we
perceive, as
god's light

the people vs. my every waking moment
                         me, for every heart I've stolen
                         the lost light given to homework
                         an idea embedded that our souls are
                         search machine engines
                         are we waking, are you my dreams

the people vs. contemporary art of all periods
                         angrier and more painful hearts
                         suicide as a solution
                         recycling factitious pollution
                         no one says a thing about ideas repurposed

the people vs. intelligence
                         truth
                         passion
                         anything other than money as a practice

I'm old now
though they say I'm not
I only notice when my
back isn't sore
as it is here
reaching for the last
shelf of the final bookstore
the only still standing
woolly mammoth
and it's poetry, the writing worth no money
so no one bought,
silly ideas of love married fraught
all other ideas fall between the lines
of valentine hearts and blood clots

she's brilliant
and I know
I'm in trouble
the last poem
I wrote
and she never
responded
because the
last poem
before that
was meant to
convey Love
but somehow
I mentioned
the holocaust
of which she's
a third generation
survivor
and now my
poems are tainted
with the blood
and ******
I'm reminded
I'm off kilter
maybe I'll
leave her lonely
and that'll fix her
I'm not being
spoken to
anymore
but in a
moment or two
I'll be reminded
with another fixture
for my attachment
that I'm a ***** loose
neighborhood
of abandoned houses

jump in the passenger
you can hold the shotgun
and we'll take the tour
in my temple
god's house
I've lost the keys
in the same place I think
as my mental
the cops are just here
restraining order
the limits of my Love
have boarders
who pay no rent
in my heart
they've got squatters rights
I can't kick em out
but I can let you in
a small fee of your time
but in the end
I will pay the price
constantly in life
first stop a cottage
too small for
all my baggage
with her the closest
I came to marriage
she loved every part of me
my biggest supporter
emotionally
saw my damage
I put her in
all my insecurities
became her most
treasured critic
she buried my memory
in the attic and
threatened I'd be arrested
when I demanded passage
I didn't do her justice then
and I can't do it now
she's a stranger
whose last act
threw me out
she's the only one
I'm sure
Loved me back

I have never seen an apple more red
than my heart when it bleeds
the green grass and my jealousy meet
my soul has been charcoal
all ***** and black
leaving a mess on everything
when I look back
and Love would be like gold
if digging it didn't
**** people
stones
our left over obsession
from our work
when the aliens made us
possessions
i don't go outside
so I stay in the shadows
Fawn lifted me out of my shallow

I've been fighting a battle, I can't win.
He's been fighting a battle he can't loose.
I've been fighting for years with heavy loses.
He's been fighting with no loses.
I've been getting weaker.
While He's been getting stronger.

Some one help

me?

I never saw a man who looked
with such a wistful eye
upon that little tent of blue
which prisoners called the sky,
and at every drifting cloud that went
with sails of sliver by.

I walked, with other souls in pain,
within another ring,
and was wondering if the man had done
a great or a little thing,
when a voice behind me said,
"The man's got to swing"

For he did not wear scarlet
nor did he speak of it,
for blood and wine were red
and so was the color on his bed.

He looked upon the garish day
with such a wistful eye;
the man had killed the thing he loved,
and so he had to die.

"The dead just seem to sleep so soundly..." she said.