I have to thank you

I see who I have been
I understand what I was
I look to where I am going

I have to thank you

I feel the pallor of the existence I led
I touch the shell I once inhabited

I have to thank you

I hold no hate
I do breathe anger
I concede to the pain
I pray it is mine alone

I have to thank you

Without this decimated phase
I wouldn’t have pushed through
Without the values earned in losing us
I would never believed in myself like I do now

I have to thank you

You understood what it took for me to flourish
You hated me for it
You craved me for it

I have to thank you

The chess matches I create are false
I always wanted to accept you
I always wanted to be your exception
(if only because you were mine)

I have to thank you

I may never tell you
I may never even lead you on to this
I probably won’t ever give you the respect you are due

I have to thank you

I have to thank you for
For all the things we destroyed even ourselves
We are the difference between knowing and being
We are the people who will forever be….

I have to thank you

I have new existence
I have new purpose
Though I may wane and my ideas shift
Like the sands I asked you to see beauty in
Even if some days I grow despondent
Like the answers you gave me on those days

I have to thank you

Good luck………..

Drawing a blank page
Upon polluted canvases
Clearing imperfections
Working systems amongst visual noise
Looking for purity seeking sanctity
Just an example some simple image

Search the path for stories
Of glorious failures
The course is litterred with people
who succeeded beyond our capabilities.

We know what it is to be
Be a producer
A nurturer create in dirt
Being from the place we create
The people who slaved
The people who consume
Infinitely those who profit
We have been
The slave
The owner
The profiteer
Our luxuries have been
The sun
Dirt
Air
Satisfaction
Power over life
Death or growth
Mining and stripping
Tearing down and barreling
Towards an infinite goal
I give back to you from whom I take

Softly I sob praying it isn’t too late

In peace I go
Not to some good night
But to some hell
Where I feel upon my being
That which I have done

To the ground I give my body
To the sky I give my soul
May what is left be
Let it be

Let it be used
Used to foster life
From what I took

Magna Dea

I return what was never mine
Do what you will
In hopes that self sacrifice does
What I never could.

Brillo en luz de dia

Color Canela
Como la tierra donde trabajo
Casi Morado
Al hora de comer

Rojo como las Rosas
Que ofrecen sus oraciones
Al mundo cada manana
El color de mi vida
Cual regreso a la Tierra

Verde la Ignorancia de mis Creaturas
En tiempo
Ellos sacificaran de sus propios modos
No sera como yo
Pero lo haran

Azul el color del Sangre en este mundo
Igual el Ojo del Universo
Que nos observa

Café es mi piel
Por la luz de la Luna
***** mis Ojos y Pelo
Como el Obscuridad del Cielo

Blanca el Alma del Universo
Como las Gardenias
Con sus Oraciones de noche

Provecho Mundo

Toma de mi
Como tomo de ti

Y en tiempo
A ti
Me entregare

New town if just for 26 hours
Hotel boxes
Window door tube bed
None for me
Walk it off

I am alone now not dead

The air is brisk
The sky clear
Inviting wanting
Pacing slow steady
Keep moving fear is behind me

I am alone now not dead

The A.O.J. , D.O.C. , C.D.C. ,
Look at the bulls
Watch the lawyers
Observe bondsmen pandering
Short steps take time
I’ve been them all

I am alone now not dead

The crooks the thieves
Crying mothers worried families
The poor the addicted the transient
Angst fear anger disappointment
Have no color creed affiliation
But their taste is forever in me
Slower still now each step is for
For you your loved one your painjoyfearhope

I am alone now not dead

At the capitol the peach blossoms
They drift down to me
Only the destitute and I
Stop to appreciate the beauty
Of the blossoms against the architecture
He then picks his bed for the night
Pace dieing growing weary
I hear a crow call

Walk on… you are alone now not dead

I keep a new pace
Steady watching wanting
A distant familiar sound
I begin to rush
Pull back I tell my self
No reason to hurry

I am alone now not dead

The closer I get
The louder it grows
Around and within me
Resonating stirring a deep seated past
A lone man in bad light
The stark display
Playing a schizophrenic
Jazz trumpet rendition of
The star spangled banner
I stop & sit
Invited into a new world
Time drifts
Like the peach blossoms
As towering sounds escape
The garage he projects into
He may be something special
He may be a ghost to the world
But here now as he plays
He is King
Even as people go by
Without ever taking heed
I clap and walk away
Shaken
In a new world as I go

I am alone now not dead

I have been counting paces
As diligently as I count days
1,433 steps
From the emptiness in the room
A fortnight
From the day I craved your touch
Peace is a road not a location
The path is here for me
So I walk with out fear
I know every day gets better
I’m still here
I am

I am alone now not dead.

So be it

A standing laying flying
Portrayal of the world

A prayer unto celluloid

Don’t blink act right
Every body ready look bright

Committing in yesteryear’s fashion

Laced in binary
Every bit of new life

Promising to tomorrow

Etch me into the cave walls
2d in faded glory

So be it

The face the place
The time in our prime

Take this time forever

It is just primer for the soul
And only fodder for those to come

No matter what we will liver forever

If only in that moment.

You stroll in calmly
The quietest person
Yet the loudest personality

You sit expectations high
no preconceptions
Palms heated
sweating into your thigh

Watch an older man take stage
No song
no dance

Flowing words
Falling down on def ears
Half tuned people
preoccupied with their today's

He bares his soul
Not one
glance

Tells you of dreams
They sing more like memories

Puts his heart on a platter
The soft clicks of keys are his applause

And I don't wish to become that poet.

An older gentleman now
looking some what feeble

He begins to read
what may be..

He is quieter now
Unless the cacophony of
latteskeystrokesjangelingkeyschange&jowls;

Is rising above
Above the man he wanted to be.

He still reads

Sounds are disappearing now
As does his voice
He strained to be heard
amongst the din

Now he is shrinking further into himself

And this is the poet I do not want to become.

Round two (cue gentleman #1)

He begins-

Not with a poem but a diatribe

I see him abuse the society it has become
His knowledge is visible
If only on the jagged ****** lines

I'm keen on his disposition
Almost applauding for him when he states

We come to this nouveau coffee house
Only to sit alone together.
Drop your wifi lose your phone
Learn to be human again inside.

Subtly heads appear from buried positions
Whispering with quiet indignation.

Just then he snaps to

Comes back full circle

Only to read something by Thoreau.

An inaudible applause grates across the room

cue the second man once again....

mutter mutter
concluded with dull thunder

"Would any one else like to share?"

"oh no's"
"Oh me oh my's"
"How could I's"

therefore it ends..
we will see you all again the Fourth Sunday of the month.

I came to find out if there was a scene
a movement a shared idea
I don't care too much sell me an ideal.

I landed in a poets grave.

They are still fighting
They will keep writing

Burning to be heard
just wanting to share
what they have learned
needing to expose others to passions

this is a poets grave

On a Sunday in the afternoon
In a college town
Dreaming of becoming metropolitan

where chic once lived and again they will
where people once spoke to one another
yet no longer bother to exchange basic courtesy

it was once magical
maybe it still is
if only because it has now become lore

my hats tipped towards you
Sunday pm poets

you are still stronger than I