You're just visiting on the weekends
suffering from lunaphilia and searching for the All-Mother (Purnavasu)
Our Lady Sorrows with the golden chord around her waist and starlet tears begins again
(Achey blue-black Kali knows it)

If I had something to nurture-
A baby being bathed in the kitchen sink and that orphan who becomes apart of the background married to the foliage-Growing ivy all around the room...
Sharp green leaves of palm trees
clinging to a semblance of security
Illuminated by drops of twisting Sun
Kaleidoscopic light spread across insular rooms

Daemonic-feathered creatures dancing on an acid lake
Marble headed and frothy bearded
Chipped-painted
Proportionate forms of fleshy architecture
Chewing gum until it looses flavor
I can’t sit here for forever
Pinning is for the crows
Dusting it off like my old memories in December
Living in a snow globe
The reflection is stained by a Thunderbirds long sleek fang

Foggy breeze through my
fingertips when sunburnt days
seem coveted in memory.
When the columbines came back from the dead.
Burnt up cities...
The last glimpse of
firefly lights grew dim behind me
The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust
The pillars I once worshipped
in incense with amulets
became faded ruins...
The weathered walls texture
were like sequins with no glimmer
I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines
It's quieter up here in the
mountains
Like a shudder through the
window
I hear the old house moan all
through the day and all
through the night
The sunlight pierces through
the blinds
illuminating his face
which is already illuminated
But you're my bumblebee
that insignia- a honey gatherer
If you subtract the intimacy
out of ***...
Nothing's left, but
hollow mechanical *******
Stealing the rythmn from
the music
Sturdy as a beam I lay
Unable to grasp at anything
It's just noise
Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed
It's like living on Mercury
In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons
Past conversations crush their
weight against my open ribs
No parent teacher or friend
told me how all consuming the sensation would be...
Dazed eyes staring through
disheveled blinds,
I was dropping rose buds off the
second floor balcony in the night
They hit the scratchy asphalt
like a gentle meteor shower
Monotonous nights replay
the same phases
That moon...
A face splashing
from gibbous to crescent
Waning on my malady
Always stirring like a steady torch

A palpable discord keeps me
turning all through the night
until the late rays of Sun
shine by again
I want a dreamcatcher
Feathery-spider web-
To keep my hypnagogic rest
sacred to me
And then I can wish
him closer...
Without a separating sea
I reserved my sleep to calmer
nights where my dainty ribs
caressed an incense-ridden
wind
My dreams are a shade
happier than me
I found my wrists
bedecked in fine jewelery
There's no chiming of antique
clocks in my sleepy
subconscious knots.
My eyes were not
corrosed over
so when he spoke I
comprehended
with crystal orbs
I'd hoped I find him through
disheveled bedsheets under
the waxing moon...
It illuminated my skin and sent me
soundly reveling in the hazy countenance
To me he's Elvis' love child
He's a wish fulfilled to me
I discovered an idol
I write letters,
coveted, held close
I worship what I
know of him
My thoughts are almost this
tangible-thing like a rope
I could grab and
make a knoose out of
perhaps it's time to slay
the golden bull
I struck his wayward glance
by some silver spring of snow
He's travelled to the ruins
of cathedrals with
chipped limestone on
the doors arched-shape...
darkness on the otherside...
Mother Mary follows,
walking through some threshold
hallway
Crooked stem, bent leaves...
A pruned up crackled rose
for me to eat
Those eyes...
dark brown, almond-shaped
Squinty with sparrow-feet
I'm waiting in the mountains
Clouds covering my eyes
Ocean blue in the stark sunshine
blinding me and enveloping me
when the music dies

I met him one night in December...
close to Christmas Eve
When I walked in he had
candles lit and some
scotch for us to drink
His peepers are dark and squinty
His laugh is warm and lovely
His voice is satin spiked with honey
He drinks purple-graped-red-wine
He resembles Dionysos
Nature as a male
He works with cryptic messages
Amalgams and
his speach is a rainbow of
different languages
Could of sworn I've met this
man in some dreamy
distant place...
Palaces of concertos ringing
when I study his copper face
I had a restless wistfulness...
A particular soulful malnutrition
That eventually dissipated
in our bathtub conversation
I swear I would cross oceans
In the hope that we might
meet again
I understand he has a habit of
diving into fountains...
He dances with gypsies on
the street
Sometimes I fail to see how
someone as worldly as he
could like someone like me
I call when he runs by Vesuvius
I want his extra time
I always forget the 7 hour
time difference but...
when we talk it makes me smile

City lamps in clusters of concrete
On 18th and Sherman street
The cars pass by scanning me
Each unsound engine roaring
Darting pupils
I feel it on my externals
On my lips and phalanges
Intruding glances cascading over
my silhouette

Deja-vu-like resemblances,
strange
Sunken cheeks look bizarre
and blotchy as the socket drains
something toxic to the veins
that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet,
encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades

Like some dreary mirage
I remember those little band aids
Vintage carnival tickets
discarded on the scratchy ground..
Blue-violet bruises
The paradox of pleasure
A vague creature in
it's discomfort
sitting in defiance and
quivering my sentences

It reminded me of those
incandescent bugs that
smush into Chryslers
With a curled lip, bulging eyes
and ******* up tongue...
Antennaes intertwined like
Twizzlers
Making peace with all
that's stung as the
windshield wipers turn on
Some black tar-smack-oil-
******

My generation consists of
inheriting environmental
destruction and mal-parenting
Global warming. Animal extinction.
Polluting the oceans. Deforestation.
Biting shards off night-time to
suffice for the daily pangs
Shuffling the dregs of karma
to grow roots and vines all about the room

It's not Winter yet
Under this morning dew
I envision it in my mind
A crystal ball vision
contorting into smoke
I caught it in my breath
Catatonically hanging
A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky
Searching for my tribe and a pulse
on this Earth in sentient souls

A parade downstairs and
you're not invited...
The stain of all things
cult status-
Sitting alone, in the woods
chain-smoking cigarettes

Like the senseless aftermath of a
battle ground...
Up at 5 A.M-
drinking by yourself when
everyone else is
passed out on couches...
beds...
floors...
And the peach sunlight starts to
pierce through the blinds....

Closing time-
mopping up spilled beer and
putting indigo earrings in
the lost and found...
The sleepy rolling credits
of a film and
exiting the pensive theatre...

Hours of images fleeting in your
peripherals...
Standing in an empty Time Square
devoid of car sirens and people...
All those faces you've met or the places you've been-
That abandoned bus stop at 5 A.M
It's a diatribe between now and
eternity

Owl's eyes see with prophecy
through the depths of
the forest trees' limbs
And those spirits...
Witnessing the past, present and future....
These eyes understand either
upside-down or backwards in
visions of blue
Like mirrors reflecting the sky,
owls eyes perceive the stratosphere
doorway in between light
and shadow-
Gifted as it is with a sprinkling of galaxies....
Owls eyes can see with magic-
Their pupils are portals to Shangri-La and Tartarus where ghouls  waver their direction endlessly in a lemniscate
Even in the most moon-less night
they conceive palpably those ghosts that weap as they wander.

When I close my eyes
I see things.
I see flowers blossom in
my heart-mind
Fuchsias-
Incandescent hues
while walking passed
street lamps
Brilliant on my shoes
Universes surround me
in aquamarine-azules
Doorways to other planets...
hazy faces like photographs...
When I close my eyes I see
forrests and waterfalls in castles...
I covet memories of battles
in tarnished armor befriending
dragons

I can't help but notice how
you're at the end of every
sentence
This soul-filled blissful presence
stays in spite of doubt lingering..
Hope it remains through Winters
passing.

In then out like a
wave in the night it
flickered by me in a droplet
of light
Somewhere in between a
doorway to the mysteries
Keeping time then disappearing
Hushed silences like a
quiver from the ground
fore a stampede
Shattering a violence that
someone like I devoured in
Dreams
It was mesmerizing this
quiet obscene sensation of
falling
Scratches on my knees
Sleepless in the Winter dawn
Sitting on the wooden floor
In February

When I am genuinely happy
I have a lit from within sparkle
I become the epitome of
the term of endearment "honey"
and I sway like a Marigold

The wave that crashed
my soul
The seashells bedecked in gold
The mess I couldn't erase
with every trace of constellations
pulsated a face
And the day gone black
under a bedsheet
Wine spilled on a cuffling
The longing for drizzle
and rain
The levitation from the
Earth like tripping windowpane
A watchtower showing you home
You are the well I'm crawling
down
( To float in the clearlight )
The alchemy and sigils in stone
A voice that mumbles
in my sound ears when I'm alone.

The indescretion everyone
can be capable of  
The transgression of
misconstruing love
Spins by my peripherals
I can't recollect
Flesh, omnipresent
Foreign to each other
It's much easier to cease
the silence through touching
Clasped lips,
hands,  miscellaneous
It's supposed to be fun
sensation without depth of
feeling
Then it's also supposed to
matter with one person only
The constellation of freckles
bespeckled dots on your back
Time spent alone with other
people that aren't you...
Feigning smiles
Laughing like friends
that I will never see again
What does casual even mean
"Casual" seems to mean fleeting
Pulses,  caught in eachothers
breaths
Keeping love notes
Intertwining sweats because I
can't sleep alone I guess
Misshapen puzzle pieces
that can't connect through
any medium except ***
Shadow faced individuals
Ideals of romance
courtship rituals
fragmented by the dashboard
light
Why is there pleasure in
self destruction
ripping our clothes for a
Semblance of passion
Asking to be left alone
feeling like you
compromised someone
with every face you
can't replace the dyad of the one.

Tripping through the night
Street lamps glitter on snow-ladden
streets
Miscellaneous voices
Button up jackets and
candy cane stripes
Hold me tight then take
a bite of me
Swooning endlessly by frostbitten
trees
Whistling through the leaves
cruchy under my feet

I chased them away
all the would-be lovers
of mine
Jack's, Luke's, Dean's and David's
I'm left alone to read
by myself
but I can't focus on the words
re-reading sentences
I tear apart mirrors
and sit on bathtub floors
I wind up with a few more
bruises on my legs to count
bruises shaped like hearts
Weeks go by, It all rolls off
the bruises heal up
Then I let another amputate my
heart and the cycle repeats
itself
Running in the dark
I curse all their words
and hope I don't meet
some innocent with the same
name's
Jack's, Luke's, Dean's and Davids
I've chocked myself up
And dined alone
sitting in my black room
Making a semblance of peace
within stormy moods of gloom
I'm not floating but
I still have hope

We're all gunna die someday
Better find the one while
we still have time
No more noons gaining high
off wine
Or indulging in pipe dreams
love of mine
Unconscious heart
Persperated in the tinge of desire
Pulled in from the fallout
All the quaking and debris
and rumbling of the inner city
Shapeshifting through the
dregs of karma
You're the muse stealing the
gods' fire

I wished you before
under a cracked star
     under a nightscape
My eyes.      Closed
Shut tight.  Locked windows
I wished us together
Phantom lover
I wished us driving
to places alone under
cycles of Moon
playing and dancing like birds
Cradle my wayword bony curve
in your safe space
If you were sour
I'd excuse because
like mommy always said
" If he's mean, that means he likes
you."
But a heart-shaped bruise
is still a bruise
And I'll always be little spoon

I'm a super-villian in my
own mind
Like Tybalt
that prince of cats
Sleek-eyed
and mannequin-smiled
But those clove cigarettes
black and potent
Hurt my ribcage

Copper bees on earings
or wresting on flowers
smoking a cigarette, disheveled
outside the bar after hours
Maybe I've been selfish
and rushing like a manic
into many different spaces
all draped with potential
Just trying to find a light in
a very dark tumble
And the more I've become
aware of my cyclic mechanics
was where I felt hopeful
What is your dream like?
The less I fear I'll ever be content
He's like a quite lake a
mountain of sturdy grace
His buttons all in place
Sometimes I feel shapeless and
drifting
But he's an anchor in drizzled
mornings
I'm trying to find the gap
where God and I coalesce
It's hard to express
It's a titillating quiver
To make peace with the remnants
of a stranger
In my head
the voice still there
Memories of bee stings
from throwing rocks
at hives.

Missing like the Sun behind clouds
you leave this Earthbound place
Separated in your mind and
In time and space
Phases of emotion
Cycles of feeling
Is this sensation waning
Waxing crescent tears and smiles
Fitted like a scarf around my
neck and
I'll be dragging it for miles
Tethered weathered potions
of foxglove, laurels
and daffodils
dripped in ink, wrapped in linen
Caught on cameras
Scratched and bitten
Amusement parks with
twirling horses
Blinking signs
Ferris wheels
Popcorn on the scratchy ground
Looking past that merry go round
And thought I saw a smokey mirror
a reflected window of blue sky
and all I could muster to say was
"high"
It sounded like a music box
It traced like constellations
It's seashells penetrated my
mind
That's why, my friend, you can't find
where it is I'm wandering
Gripples on my arm and
all along my collarbone and
down my spine like a slide
It's all angles
"Be a triangle"
And sudden like a collision
hard in the pit of my ribs
I say the words I've
screamed inside and
they escape from my lips
I've died once but
lived many times
So many places I've been in
one life and I'm a
kaleidescopic mind.

I dipped my leary feet in a
pond called science and witnessed the
molecules turn to ice

I asked a priest the meaning of
life, he said
"To be redeemed by God"
I read the scriptures of holy
gospels
I pondered the interpretation's
of all the apostle's
Answer the phone
I asked a bald monk the meaning of
life, he said
"To walk along the path of light."
I banged a gong sketched with
calligraphy and ate only
pomegranate seeds
Answer the phone
I looked all around for pieces
that fit
That sanctuary where you
come from
Like crossstitched buttons
from different grazes
the semblance of home
Answer
the
phone.

Falling
Kaleidoscopic and feathery
The seasons brief stay
Feeling faith between
my ribs
pulsating like a lightbulb
hanging from a chain
Every time it changes the
foliage and the sky
If time stopped in stillness
then I'd have no quarrel with
the possibility of going insane
For an hour out of a day
when waves crashed my name
I'd make myself a palace from
the silence and the decay
Rapid fire in and out the door
There he goes
wayward traveler
Starving body and
content spirit under moonlight
catching colds to shake off
Because I really don't see what
other people do when I look
at me
Tired sighs
Green eyes
Mesmerized by pictures
of angels
Tethered skin
Weather beaten
Holding in a vision
I've been in mansions
with swimming pools
I've been in dingy
alley backrooms
And I still couldn't recognize
what I was reading
Oscillating around street lamps
and speaking in whistles
A fleeting sensation and
I can't trust the transition
I wish life was quite and
I could have met him
after the storm
Where does this start
In my head or in my heart
When does this grow from
something soft to something
sharp?
Verses resting on the wall
Prophecy
Clentched wrist
Crosses
Do I make the right decisions
Trembling jaw
All this theory in a blooming flower
Watching cars drive by
There's a mistress on the floor
Behind the locked screen door
And there's a picture on the
shelf of you with someone else
Coveted dreams of romance
without a promise of courtship

Sirens in the sea
whispering sighs of pale moons
Seraphs in the skies and
the symptomatic melancholy
Tailor-made fascination with
the oblivious oneness
Like a music-box ballerina twirling
in rorschach splatters
Serenade cornucopia frizzled out
Lanterns descending from the
willow trees
Fox-colored
Stout arched neck
Drizzled drops of rain over our
windshield wiper conversations

Converted like a Spring leaf
as the promise of Autumn hushes
like a mushroom cloud over the
terrain of apartment-stride-sidewalks
and sunburnt shoulders
It's feeling like a note you folded
away only to re-open to re-read
The cursive dribble from ghost skulls
about ghost memories you keep in
an ornate jar
Shredded, bruises
Plum colored eyes
plump like trophies after staying
at the gritty hotels
"Open Vacancy" signs perched off
chain links
But the scars are healed now
I'm parked at some wishing well
hoping to mean more to someone
that's headed for Maine tomorrow
I'll miss the wooden ledge under my
hand and the cool air through the
window
Laying on that grey bed
Sheets disheveled as my cowlick
mane
A garden of variety of secret tulips
on hidden balconies
Stretched into a purgatory
unto endless baggage and street
name's
I don't think I have the memory
to remember
Wicker chair over a sort of courtyard
Antiques in white light like
sacrements from a dawn

Can artist's be beautiful, Frida Kahlo?
Can we be glorified not for our duty
as angelos, but for our
physicality?
Our fierce thighs
and not our mood swings, Lou Reed?
Painted canvas', strumming guitar strings
Prettified under the neon fixtures
We are more like the trench-coat souls
slipping away with tobacco pipes into
the night,
not golden, but starry-eyed off of laudanum potions
Is that simplistic Jack Kerouac?
To be dignified in wine stained ramblings
too large for one to comprehend alone
In snapshots or albums of Led Zeppelin

Did we curse the false idols while lacking sincerity?

Because we are only human beings and can't reach that state
No Buddha's have I gazed the face of in
hostels or busy streets,
neither in dens or marble coves
Saturated in meaning but an image
that dies in the dark
Is it ugly to find the fountain of immortality?
To have lived as a martyr
No one celebrated Van Gogh or
understood mania
It's in our nature to breathe meaning
into something spectral
some nothing you cant kiss on the mouth

Peace for a moment over calamity
raging in the gunpowder city
Regenerating a semblance of solidity
These values we crave to shake
Forced to be slaves to propaganda utopias
A secret door behind the foliage
A castle in my dreams
I can almost grab the charcoal stones
with my hands outstretched
Searching for this world on the edge of my dreams
a Nirvana in Tartarus
People tell me it's too far to reach
How do I create this vision in my soul into
something tangible?
How would I bring those lilac clouds down to me?
Feel them under my feet
That stillness, a rising awareness of my faults
stirring like syrup in the pit of my gut
I've been sleeping so long it feels justified now to wake up

Oleander sips
Saturated leaves
Acid lake's disguised under oak
trees.
Sprinkling of cocoons
And fuzzy bumblebees.
Sugar magnolias like
freckled galaxies.
Sippy cups with rainbows
and an antique bucket
Tangerine trees and golden
lockets
Lynx spotted engines
of Chevrolets
Darted dandelions in a
Summer craze

Have's verses the have not's.
Hickies on my bones
In a thousand candlelit rooms
Soda pop and snowglobes
I haven't had time to loose my mind
Fragmented glimpses of solar plexus'
Waning gibbous' in the spring
Held your bare soul
with my eyes closed
Catharsis at sundown
Sometimes I feel more alone
Your hanging words were carved in
stone in sleek shards of abalone
cold to wrap my ribs around
It's a cycle of regressing into the
future
The consciousness of lack
Relapsing memoirs
Secrets for the dreaded end to
receive silently
Watching flowers grow
Purity rings or pregnant at 16
A born romantic who lost their
virginity to the dashboard light
Sidewalk slants like tectonic
plates tripping into the night
Weary limbed and still wide eyed
City to city
Passing through the signs of roads
has left me feeling like a gypsy
Boxes of my favorite things I
loose a little more along every
place until I've lost everything
Receptive to the voices in the rain
singing solace to your pain
I wipe off of foggy mirrors in
hotel rooms
Sleeping on the floor
"Carpe noctem" and such said
slurs under a draped porch sitting
on the stairs
Black widow spider silk along
the wall's and
a thousand days faded to setting
suns
the starry rays all are gone
Asteroid belt in a handful
Like teeth, a smile that's
crooked and bent beneath
curled lips chapped and spent
filling the spaces between the
gaps.

Who is it that you write to
some face in your third eye
vague and dreamy
Who are your messages for
the phantom universe hovering over your bed
That noisy place you wrest your head
Some folks inquire-
"What is it you desire?"
And the only sound answer is
"Everything."
But nothing in particular-
Maybe a cottage by the sea
Salty taste
Far from him
In an isolated tea party
with that hatter who lost touch with reality
At least as dreamers see it
And when I fall asleep it's not next to him
I wasn't his enemy when he's insecure
and now he's someone else's disease to cure
Beaten roads lead to many distances
Tomorrow could dissipate like breathes
I speak to ghosts on the outskirts of society
Wandering souls who speak in emotion
who can only be touched by melodies
that hover like fog over a graveyard
Those apparitions on the road that
disappear after you catch them in your peripherals
We are a dying brood of siblings
Superseded by imitation and the death of community
Magic lives in owl eyes and sits on benches at midnight
with only it's own voice to console itself when no one sees it

The furniture in my mind could do with some feng shui
The comforter's in front of the doorway
and the television's on the floor
Static electricity when I try to explain
all of these things within my brain
I wanna ask if it's okay to
relieve myself of my meanderings
Will I be locked away after I have said something
that shook my core and changed my course
always defensive or raw and coarse
I just want to be true to myself and to you
I just want to know the answers to questions
Iv'e been dreaming through
Maybe tomorrow or on a Sunday
I'll wake up and It'll all be okay
Because I have been thinking about my
life and everything in between
If there is no life after death
I'd like to understand the meaning
I want to talk about the cosmos and things I can't see
the ghosts of my desires self-inflicted injuries
I want to hear in my soul that music that is in silence
after it has been interrupted by some perceived violence
To disconnect from the illusions
that others told me I should pursue-
Sports cars, a marriage, a big house with a baby carriage
Maybe I believe in something else
That at times I ignore from inside myself
There is no right way
So I'll dance, sing and sway
to the music that only I am hearing
while others around me are pondering
"What is he dancing to?"

Is this our reality?
Never admitting to the faults of the dark corners
that makes the room of our existence?
Never speaking of the truth that is believed by each
soul to come with age?
Never being that light we so crave from another?
Can we stare at each-other for more than five seconds
In unadulterated silence?
Why does a brother disguised as a stranger seem
irrelevant to you and your experience?
No soul claims to know from some higher being
with perfect certainty the meaning in our life
like it's easy
No one knows why we die someday
or the answers to those questions
We keep talking, keep driving, keep moving
like mad people to a sense of normalcy
consumed in distraction
You know when I stare at the moon
she stares back and sees me In her pale light
as I am, as I was and how I will be
When will somebody stare at me like the moon does
when I'm under her?
I didn't laugh at this cosmic joke of being born
only to be sentenced to die someday
My purpose is vague in those little things
that cause hair loss and weight gain
My purpose seems obscure...
And that would be alright If I
had developed trust in this chaos
that appears so senseless
And tomorrow is just another day of
pretending I'm okay within this
shifting weather.
It's got to give sometime
I couldn't find it in the bible or in
spirituality and
I couldn't find it in the people surrounding me
I can't find it in the sky or glimpses of the galaxy
I search from place to place like a gypsy
for some solace of a place I can't find within me
Its like disassociation when you cannot feel the
water falling off your skin
And life is only a dream.  
I thought about the alpha and omega but
It hasn't thought of me
And now I'm left here writing of my
meanderings

I've been at the bottom of a bottle
for many binge nights now
shutting the snowy daylight out
No such thing as a perfect person
only a perfect broken one
as he blows like a line of coke
every word we ever spoke
And those innumerable apologies to myself
haven't ceased the quacking of a volcanic heart
they never pierce the borders of an answer
I'm too precarious to figure out
There's no such thing as perfect order
only perfect chaos
Grabbing for a ghost
when the midnight has betrayed us
on the flooded streets by mountain-peaks
or the sticky stains of *** on the desk

And I will make believe and sit alone
Again and again regarding the silence as a song
Where do I, or you, remain; am I, or you, a memory
Faded persons in a picture from long ago
An insignia and dates on overgrown grass on gravestones
I'm becoming myself all at once
An infinite consciousness with faded recollections of its origins
Where was I conceived of first?
In the myriad galaxies and stardust
Within the chasms of whispers in another dimension
where time is as malleable as paper cranes
I make believe my purpose for waking up and sit alone
Some no-thing inside remains unknown
Forming itself like a wave in the sea
And the nothingness is watching me
Will I or you be immortal maybe?
Even after we are indifferent to one another
Even after flashes of yesterday disappear
In the grey dawn of today

Am I changing my mind
Am I thinking of the greater good
A vague being that's moving in motions
aware of my own dread and lack of purpose
It's like I'm dissolved and shapeless
I've always wanted to learn French
I want to go to Canada and
leave the American dream to contort
Sleepy all the time
My crystal ball's so cloudy
Shedding into nothingness
It's like I'm disappearing
I can't articulate my emotions
I can't tell what I'm feeling
I'm staring through myself
a black hole in the mirror
Every thought ending in periods
thinking in absolution's

Trips to Shanghai taking photographs
of junks that were full of bones
Forgotten pixels stashed in the cover
of shade in the corner of the room
drawings in pastel paint brushed on the walls
You fell from the sky and crashed into my eye
I flew from the ground and landed in your thighs
Crucifix Sunday's and brunches in mobs
We drank the nectar of Pine trees
and redeemed our throbbed wrongs

I told a crimson bird the secrets of the dawn
It bedecked the eyes of wayward wanderers
thrashing in the night
Diamond crested brews splashing on the lawn
capsules for the faint of heart
three morning glories
Vegas' spark, Vegas is dark
Emerald curtains to be ***** and forlorn
tethered at the seams In a half-worn tone
Drizzle on his cheeks; bruises on his knees
speaking French like a malnourished disease
Trotting across Bay Bridge In a blue jean dreg
tattoos of limericks and the horns of a stag
Reading tarot cards and tinkering with thugs
Passing around potions and drawing lady-bugs
Upside-down In chlorine pools
to beseech tea-leaves In Autumn
Where the weather is not warm
and the postmodernism creeps sullen
Caffeine infested speak
cooing cockatrices from the windowsill
telling all the neighborhood kids tales
that began as blank pages of dribble
In the alleyway they stumble
back to hotels of metal
carrying letters with water stains and ribbon

Traces of constellations written in freckles on your back
A laugh like Judaism and a touch like loneliness
Can only explain it in pictures of black and white images
like a chemical combustion in frail snapshots
tethered hands all  weathered and rough
Misspoken masterpieces communicated through touch
So hard to contain this sensation
I can't explain through anything tangible
A cloud that changes shape upon inspection
Spectacles, our honors
gleaming like a trophy that's hidden in a box
left alone to rust
Miscellaneous hands grasped to chasms
moving so quick and fast
There's no lines attached to those burdens or
bodies crisp gloves cover up
Stretched or crunched
hovering like a light
above storms in the town square
Overblown posters with checkers
faded colors in Spring
advertising bands
that I won't listen too, fabric I'll never feel
noises I'll never have to speak over
or turn down on radios
Artichoke hearts stabbed by the fork
held by an animator choking on the root
This is the inheritance of sound
of presences on stages or garages
These oiled gemstones
blurred behind faceless statuesque
pieces of cold stone

Unconscious con-artists
sipping on each other's pop
intertwining their legs like Twizzlers
Squeezing the back of their necks
playing in the dark
tumultuous bed sheet
half-hanging on a mattress
Bruised lip, scratched skin
Disowning our faults
Pulled triggers on abrasive guns
for provocation and
crawling into trouble

Digging into the recess' of my skull
while speaking in tongues
trying to find an absolution
to secrets I'll never know
and I want to possess this thing
that's deep within my soul
and then I could give it a name
if it could make me whole
An endless dialogue in my brain
that ceases only every now and again
on roller-coasters, or speakeasies,
when it's raining or when I'm sleeping
Dancing in this state of mind
any charm will do for a
semblance of the supernatural or
a moment of truth
or live the rest of my life
with my lids slammed shut
in an isolated existence within
dreams I've never touched
Fresh out of breaths
looking through bruised eyes
hypnotized by my palpable perceptions

Maybe writing will save me
but tell that to Virginia Woolf
When my body lays in the soil to
fertilize the Earth maybe
I will come back as an Aspen tree
and the robins could make circular nests
to safe keep their hatch-lings
I was baptized in neon lights
In the city of Denver
like living in a snow globe
driving drunk after hours
I wonder what Times Square
looks like right now
These tailor made dreams
entire generations chasing paper
Get rich quick schemes where the
obstinate promise of prosperity
will be our legacy and anchor
Where's the avatar of our times
Is he or she working in an office
or clipping coupons and getting by
just barely on rent  working in
a dispensary selling legal marijuana?      
old enough to go to war but not get drunk
off tequila
it seems like massive hysteria
and I was at the grocery store buying
bread and the cashier was talking about
New World Order, the Illuminati and
receiving a red sticker in the mail.
Graffiti-tombs and voodoo
I wonder where Lord Byron is buried?
I wonder if Jesus is coming back
or if terrorists will listen to the Beatles
and declare that love is all you need.

Postpartum epiphanies
I'm shuddering against a stonewall
taking into myself the smoke,
snowy hills and the quiet of the
pine trees
I feel awake as the noise in my
head starts to dissipate
I go under water between thoughts
and comeback up for air once a
conscious realization dawns as
sentences
blooming in my third eye
The solitude in these mountains is
medicine for me like lighting sage
it mends the holes I possess in
my aorta
This large Earth is turning soft
I can't trace it in the swift grey clouds
or the suns hide and seek game
I'm tongue-tied on the ecliptic orbits
I trip over the luminaries movement
The trees whisper faint
stories but i am
ear-less to their memories
I wish I could close my eyes and
fall asleep to their song-tales
like a child at bedtime
I'm faceless to this circumstance
I feel like shattered glass
The future seems at once
both short-sighted and vast
I'm getting through on faith
believing my time is precious
and too rare to spend it in a cage

In my room about to
turn out the light and
as I shut my eyelids
I become aware of the riotous
laughter raging in the other room
hysterics and horns like it was
New Years right at that minute
and I'm all alone in the dark room
missing the commotion that will
become the subject of many stories
starting off as
"Remember that one time....?"

So I'm about 12
at my mother's Alamo-esque
apartment with a scarcity of
children my age about
and I'm staring out these
lace-dressed windows at the buildings
and mountains feeling like so
much is happening on this sun-soaked day
and I am still inside watching all the cars
race to places I was never invited
and all the motion I'll never sway to
with this rampant feeling of being
In the wrong place for destiny to strike
It was the wrong time to sneak onto
rooftops at early dusk to spy at
the streets below

In my dream I'm with faceless friends
some look almost familiar
and others features contort as
smoky personas' I somehow recognize
and I'll notice my shoe is tied or that I left
something behind so I
casually tell them to wait
but not one phantom stops
they keep walking with fading chatter
I can never remember
I'm left tying my vapor shoelaces
In a rush
with no hope of ever catching up

I would stare from the edge of my bed
watching the quiet of Charlotte Parkway
while all the neighborhood was sleeping and
I was wide awake
and In those twilight hours when
existence seemed dreamy
I sat on my back and wonder
Was I alive at all?
Was I disappearing...
My body fading into a shapeless mist?
Would I just slip through my bed
when the transfiguration took place and
through the carpet-floor then pass through
the cement basement into the ground
as an etheric substance to the core
of the Earth? Finally becoming
One with the lava turning in the
pits of the planet too far inside
for any soul to find.

I would walk suburban sidewalks
waiting for that mother-ship to comeback
waiting for angels bedecked In
star-freckled garments with fire
caressing their opaque limbs saying
"It is time to leave your old life behind"
Completely with their mind
No angels or aliens ever woke me up
In blinding lights or gusts of wind in
my room at night

Moments life hits you all at once
You're still here breathing
Alive
And memories of jumping on trampolines or
Sledding down mountains
And face paint pave way
For new memories
Babies, engagements, funerals, promotions
Isn't it strange getting older?
After years of trial and error
Becoming yourself
Learning who you are and
Where your heart lives most
What mattered once seems irrelevant
Letting go of time spent
Wasted
Glimpses of roads to places you
Never knew you could be capable of
Treading
All while the suns setting
And through a series of "accidents"
Through questioning if you're on the
Right path
You've come to a place that feels correct
For no reason other than
The sensation in your chest
Blistered past
Comes together
And you let go of
What's been strangling you for years
That locket on your eyes is wide open
Like breathing for the first time
Releasing all the weight you've carried
In vain to nowhere it seems
Blossoms
You release yourself from the illusion
Of being tied to the past
Time has come to start anew
And embrace those things you thought
Didn't want you and It
Was only a way to trick yourself because
Once that was comfortable
Once you couldn't conceive in the possibility
That you are valuable
And your capable of surprising those
Voices that told you
You couldn't or
Would never
You start to believe in something else
In those moments

Parked car headlights flash on
Driving down some road
Everything is white
And seems to glimmer
Reflecting back a pale moon
I drew a sigil in the snow as my hands
Started to dance
Dazbog coffee and
Cigarettes
Under a heat lamp
Spreading love in dissipated breaths
Moving in quakes
Sipping against the breeze
He was the man of my dreams like a
Basket of oranges
Illuminated reds, blues and browns
Along sunshine through the glass
Houses on the hills
Surrounded by daffodils

He was the man of my nightmares
Nervous when the phone rings
And when it doesn't
Singing devils to wrest in
My spirit and then
Stirring them to covert
Mechanics at turns
Tumbling as it were in
Between crossroads
One to paradise promised in
Modern fairy tales
The other to inherent destruction of
The self made malady
Knowing what it's like to find that
No matter where I go there's no
Peace of mind
What its like to hide
Somewhere dark
Because no one understands
They all seem like strangers
So many, too many strangers
Who was I five minutes ago
Those neon signs got under
My skin
You know you have to be careful
With wishful thinking
Strips of hair in the sink but your
Not there
But I'm not giving up
I've been down this road before

VW buses headed to Haight
and Ashbury
In San Francisco to
meet a man
We brought the acid to
expand our consciousness
that's what Tim Leary suggested
And you need to feed your head
like Jefferson Airplane said
Just go ask Alice
Yes we brought the psychedelics
and our bus is painted
in pastel peace signs and
purple Shiva's
We wove flowers in our braid
we ran barefoot
and climbed the trees
They said that the hippies are dead
but The Grateful has yet to
perform their last gig
love love love, man
it's our religion
R.I.P John Lennon
***** Warhol's banana and
Campbell's soup
But we miss Lou Reed and Nico too
Yes the summer of love was in 67'
and Woodstock was a muddy heaven
We watched every episode of Laugh-In
but it wasn't always sunshine and dandelions
like when a runaway overdoses
from ******
It was a wave no one remembers
but to everything there is a season
Freaks with beards at the drive-in
R.I.P Janis Joplin
We were all California Dreamin'
Jack Kerouac the dharma ***
was friends with Neal Cassady
the other-worldly monad
A time of innocence
a time of confidences
And so we are here bumming
cigarettes and joints
with talk about the Manson Family
and Sharon Tate
We are all here so come along
but in the meantime
I'd love to turn you on.

I'm trying not to become
Co-dependent
On someone
Someone I like a lot
Who brings solace to my fears
When they choose to talk
And I'm trying to appear sane
If only on the surface
To not throw my fondness away
For said person
By expressing it too often
Cause in the static of my mind
Time moved in heartbeats and
In solitary reflection I find
I've found a semblance of what
I seek
It's true I could die today
With a flashback of your voice
So I'm hoping that you'll stay
Because I'm still awake
I couldn't find it in art
Small-talk or T.V
No words seem to explain
This sensation that's posessed me
You think I'm a wreck because
I'm young and
Glorifying your face
But the truth is that I'm numb
When a cold wind replaces
Your embrace
You see romance never wanted me
Affection left me alone
All I knew were scissors to
Snip petals off of roses
And pills of all shapes and sizes
To keep my mind off of the
Affirmation
Believing I was fated to
Constant suffering in silences
My shiny new rational is this:
Life's too short to never fall
In love and life was meant for
Just two to amass a
Treasure trove
I'm trying to stay myself
And share my completeness
With the one
I'm trying to remain intact
When all is said and done
But that's only theory
I can't build a house on
The foundations more like water
That consumes the cement and
Stone
So I'm a little bit dramatic
I know what you're thinking
But who are you to tell me
That my therapy's not working?

Tethered leather locket
sing me to sleep
make all the noise disappear
down to a hushed whisper

Satchel me dreams in color
turn all those indigo blues
into murmured violet hues

Promise to wake me up
shake me from my disease
so I can once again know peace

I will hold you like a charm
to carry me through the days
I'm stuck within a violent daze

May your lullaby ring clear
confide to my weary soul to
have faith in the things that I'm
unsure

Lay my bones to rest
and mail me letters of light
so I can sleep at night

I wonder
If I was at a party and
Our eyes locked as strangers
Would I keep on walking to
The window I was ashing my
Cigarette at?
To the table with the liquor
Placed on it?
To the music device I was
Tinkering with?
Never to second glance at your
Camouflage veneer?

At the drive-In
Hanging in perpetual refrain
Coveted underneath calm
Glacierial eyes that sizzle soft
As you're lips are echoing
Hushed goodbyes
Hesitant to turn away when
You push like a cartridge
Against my ribs
I come whistling back to your
Casket easing my
Bruised cheeks with
Fantasies of lying awake at
Night only to listen to the sound
Of your breath dissipating
As you lay next to me

Ingloriously Soaked in red
And blue sirens
On the side of a
Road I've never known
Sparks of dust surround my
Senses
And I'm senselessly being a
Nuisance to the system that
Shaded me
Fostering a sweet eternity in a box
I can never scratch through

Pensive and pondering
Smoking a cigarette on tire swings
Alone
Moments before the sunrise.
Tender notes scream from
Within my amazed mind
Traveling as it were from the
Ashes I knew to be my
History to the
Satellite existence that I
Will know to be my future.