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 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

Doomed sailboat
Unyielded to by the sea
Sprinkling a crystal trail of
Opaque-blue under the moonlight
Last I saw of it that night or
Anynight since.

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

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

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

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.

Give me your left pale palm!
( Left palm always )
Heart lines and life lines
You have a (wrinkled) square!
Seems like a fire hand to me;
I have an air hand myself...
Your very wealthy, or
You have the potential to become so..
Your still learning evolutionary lessons regarding
What true wealth is
I feel like...
Your mother figure? She seems sad..
He nodded and understood..
He nodded and explained..
I have revealed many things via
Intuition! And
If we weren't too drunk and high
he'll remember my crystal predictions!
His exuberant face trembled at truth;
"He almost knew me"!!!

Flushed thoroughly by
The sink, lukewarm
My face a weathered apricot
Pore-scape.
Mirror twisted like a landslide
Hushed glances
I'm bitten by miscellaneous pupils
And iris'
Widen'ed like copulation
Given honeydew twilight hours
Shaken estranged to breath cold and thick like smoke.
Crossing over-incarnated
Begrudgingly.
A longing for Rococo
And VW buses.

Swift falls the night!
Clear comets burn like fins on sirens.
The darkness is silent; hypnotic as some black void!
To find peace In clustering solidity
Hushes and shrieks among the
Raging of this city.
Snow is cascading down long walks to
High crackles and alluring
Roaring of Bacchanalia's.
Drinks at my preferred haunts;
Broken bottles of brew, down-town, under flat roofs.
Budding breeze smoking with boon companions.
Lingers on and on
This ether, this buzz;
Ascending further and farther to those heavens up above
All the rhubarb; commotion hanging in the air,
Till we shatter our limbs among still song.
Late early-mornings and sunken swollen eyes!
Regrets are like dreams:
Something forgotten in time.
Slush edged roads
And shoes gliding
Over Welcome mats.
(Mine as well, It's the weekend)
Get faded.

Belittled in space
Across soft oceanscapes
Like Alice's wonderland mushrooms growing
Through thickened moss.
A figure, blurry, dispersed like a witches
Ingredient around the room.
I'm softly lying, breathing uncontrolled on some
Pullout bed, in a random room I'll enter again with
No memory of lying so drunk and gone.
Parties heal my heart
But the boys seem fatuous.
In the wake of these tender unrecognized years,
Bitten lips, that swell purple the next morning.
Left alone to slumber till noon
"Wake up! It's noon!"

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

Playing laser tag on canopy beds In
Trailblazing *** kitten style;
Blue eyes staring down upon.
Tanning In the graveyard
With butterfly kin and
Spent time In swimming pools
Of aquamarine,
Shaped like a leopard spot.

Listening
Living in between seperate
Dimensions of being
We used to swim In public
Pools and used to gaze at the
Spray-painted underground
Nakedness rampant under
The bridges of our city
We used to coo in creeks and
Make invitations to every
Kid in class to our birthday
Parties
We played with basketballs
Hula-hoops and Gameboy
But somewhere down this
Beaten road through adolescence
Somewhere beyond the socks
For presents on
Christmas
We became taller and hairier.
Shaped crystals from diamond
Mines
And life gave us something to
Unwind
A music box for a wandering mind
To speak our truth
To speak you're soul
Disguised as a bruised indifference
Or an overt lunacy somedays
(Seems plausible on sleepless
Nights, insomniac-like In
Cemented rooms that turn so cold
In Autumn.)
But our truth is our sanity
Which must be uttered In
Amazement
Even as some hookah caterpillar
Is blowing smoke
Trying to convince you you're
Crazy
Maybe the caterpillar is only lazy
And trying to be a marmot.

Blazing and looting and *****'s
Screaming "surrender!"
Machetes through a violent haze.
A group of scoundrels rioting,
Crashing and trampling as they
Wildly start howling while
Throwing bottle bombs.
Uncomfortably cramped into a secret crevice;
Violets, soothing for a moment.
Then bodies toppled over and
Singled out
Is such an existence for one to
Be devout to?
A sudden breeze, caress the aftermath of  
A loosely worn disease.
Sleepy eyes, seemingly far off and
drooping low; solving puzzles.
Gazing with purpose and intent;
A veneer that's out lost upon a pier.
Swinging to a requiem,
Pacing In a retelling.
My friend, again, speak amends and
Shine a light that transcends my
Fears and my tears that prevail;
So misguided In deed.
So sure so certain that
What's done is right
But now the meanings all disguised and
Out of sight.

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

Thought I saw the rolling storms
In the dustbin clouds. Thought I
Heard ghouls moaning through
Their wandering shrouds.
Felt something stirring
Deep deep
Beneath the Sea.
(Maybe It was the titans calling out to me)
My world seemed to shake and shriek
With a pressing voice that rang out
"For evermore,
For evermore".
Whether It was a whimper, or the
Passing of a lush...
Whether It was through a thicket, a
Mountain, or a
Touch
Or whether it wasn't
Any sound audible enough
To hear-
Haunting some hollowed ground where it seemed to appear.
Through the creaking In the floor, and
The quiet of the well...
(Where your hair stands up when your heart strings bell)
The words don't sit quite right
And you disagree...
(When the mere mention of something seems terrifying)
Imploding bombs of atomic construction
Seem to go off and bruise their function;
Miscellaneous hands
Grappling, pulling,
Letting go;
Reaching for solace for evermore,
For evermore.
When the strawberries have rotted
And the bluebells withered up
When a shivering lake of frost descends on my cup.
When the sadness figures inconspicuous,
Behind tall wall'ed towers,
When no-thing tangible seems real and
Nothing impermanent seems to matter.
Longing for when the leaves swing like a cyclone,
(High beyond the trees)
Where the willows thrive and
The moonshine bleeds;
Till through some epiphany
Like the dawn we finally see,
What beauty In the broken be...
If not beside you and not within me.

"The best revenge is living well."
               - Dorothy Parker

I'm so far from where I've been
Words are only words not
Set in stone
Tomorrow will be better than
Today
Amounts to lies within habits
Hard to shake
One mistake becomes oceans
Of regret
Throwing it all away for one
Moment of peace
Some holy redemption
An immediate release
Promises I told myself
That were never kept
Lye the stones of my tower
High in disappointment
And that look you get
From someone who
Doesn't understand why
You push away their helping
Hands
To grow is to embody that
Betterment from those
Destructive impulses you
Draw with your mind
In the grey cement
I've told myself a thousand times
"I'm not perfect" how
That weighty reality
Becomes evident over
And over
To any freebird who wishes to
Wonder and die young
See the plane crash of their life
For others to mourn
Means nothing to nature
Who by nature is stern and
To those ghosts who died of
Exposure, hunger and
Malnourishment-
Do their footprints in the
Snow live on to anyone?
Was their life just a comet
That burned once upon a time
But now is gone?
To purify my intentions in
This life when I'm sometimes
So jaded by my maladies
Reinforcing habits that
Enable my demise
I could barely cross the street
I was so sketched by those passing
Eyes I would stare down at my feet
I'll try to beat all those instincts
Of not knowing whom to trust
Of being abandoned in the
Crippling dust
Of sinking inside most of my
Faults of
Never conceiving that I would
Get back up
And changing my mind when
The inspiration rusts
And choose to be simply
Happy for once
Smiling and laughing at
Myself
Belief that one day I'll be
A success and not succumbing
To all that pressure and stress
Instead of realizing
"This Isn't me"
I'll paint the picture of who I want
To be
My life is worth more than that
And where the univers guides me
Are the first gleaming steps
To salvation from all
My secrets and unrest
Being reborn from my ashes
I'll be the Phoenix
I'll take all my shame and
Plant it in the earthly soil
Where it will grow into a
Tree-
A resilient weeping willow

Alpha and omega like a womb;
Visions and visages in kaleidoscope rooms...
Hanging on drapes of blue;
Impressive orbs of translucent hues...
Waves break in an
Eternal haste in time
As you float down into
Space and
Your tummy aches on
Seemingly misplaced dreams.
Dreams spewed together, in an internal river that shimmers
Like a dragonfly wing,
Like lava lamps and vintage photos, out of focus...
Or when the
Whispers disperse,
In the rain..
Reminiscent of bubbles floating,
Suspended,
Guided inklings and transparent meanings;
Reflections in mirrors or
On water,
In spoons or car windows...
An underbelly of inner kingdoms
Almost pillaged and buried by age;
Remaining only by hope or faith,
Like Camelot In its wake,
Only to glide to sleep
Where redemption sweeps in soft on swift heels.
Reminiscent of the rose bushes in that fairy tale Sleeping Beauty,
Where soldiers bodies were left to decay.

My displays are astounding
I regress to an infants zeal
Because I hate everything around me
And need to tell you how I feel
Tell you things of sugar rain
And crystal  mines of lore
Cuddle my ribs with pure disdain
As my body washes to the shore
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Symposiums with the fey are symptomatic of enchantment
(Or insanity)
Seeing beyond a day
Of desolute drudgery
The eyes in my head keep assuming I am dead
(Those whispers from the back of my head)
And the fear of living is the wound of
Re-living what another might have
Said.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down
Crickets outside are singing so
Sleepless nights feel less lonely
Cannot decipher which side of me
Is dreaming when I'm awake till
Early morning.
Hey man little village
Hey ya the leaves are brown
Hey man the trees are changing
Hey ya they're falling down.

Lye my back flat, horizon-like,
Draping the bathtub.
A ticklish caress of my lithe finger
To my ***** thigh, after I set
A book on the toilet seat, away and still,
A mere foot from the shower.
I stare, upward, at the cratered ceiling
While it surely starts to bud;
Opening up faces and dreamscapes in
Dark shades of light that
Cause my iris to sink
And expand; pulse-like.
I move my supple arms over my ears from my sides and
Back down to my sides.
Thoughtful.
Psychological terminology and therapeutic
Rhetoric begin to invade my mental:
Dissonance, disassociation and
Depersonalization.
The three D's.
I soak and
Remember that
Saint-like paisley bed set;
Magenta flowers dotting
Moss-green labyrinths,
Bedecked by golden shapes that reflected medieval woodcarvings
Beast wings.
Matching curtains shut out the rest of the
Neighborhood like a removed escape and
A vibrancy that resonated as
Safe and enchanting
In subtle proportions.
Saturated kin to my unexpressed wonder
I always felt human In that shut-out open room
Recollections of the week prior
Spilling out and
Talk about the cosmos; the
Occult mysteries.
Untangling a web the world had sewn around
Two soulful inquirers.

The water drains.

Chrysanthemum
Weary, dressed in pearl
Old like a sea whale
Ancient.
Records of ancient cults
Missing you
Need to haunt me again
Indifferent to breaths and
Your
Heartbeating, pulses
Starlight bright night
Cooing me to second sight
A psychic without ties to
Mischievous spirits
Collected

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.

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.

The shaman of anti culture.
Fractured ox jaw
Beating on stretch'ed drums.
Wolf countenanced headdresses and
Bells and iron trinkets swish from tie-dye stripped cloaks.
Orphan to the world and
Distilled soul'ed;
Spitting alcohol over a bonfire.
(The snake being charmed is also the snake-charmer.)
Mystical uttering of
Revelations lingering
In an incandescent shell.

Swarthy pinning trapped to rooms as
Decoration;
Those idols of style and combustion.
Where is the Prometheus of our age?
We command nature to bypass us on
Our way to the meeting
Where we ask the snow to melt as
It's falling
And the Oceans became too full of wreckage
To host its own kin.
What will the generations yet to come say of this day, and this
Night?
Maybe we are more bruised in our understanding
Than any Neanderthal
Who had survived those Winter's for us;
Just so we could feign away the elements...

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

Days I'm hungover I
Can't eat, although
That hardly matters
In a world of gunpowder
Saturated with wonder and
Coughing through the
Taciturn caricatures I
Encounter.
I'm up at all hours:
Cracking my neck.
Swollen eyes.
Soar throat.
My tongue explores the crevices
Between my teeth
In my mouth
I sit for forever it seems...
Mocking the changes I need to
Make in my life-
And other people's lives.
Wishing for swift heeled
Destiny
To begin everywhere, all
At once.
Misplacing time.
Running out of time.
In a rush that grabs this city
In the early hours of
Restless ramblings and
Empty crossroads that sit
Traffic-less;
Where do we all hide at night?
The quiet.
A moonless shade of pale black
Across the eyes of the sky
That makes me feel like an ant.

I have been daydreaming;
So much for saving myself again.
Internal disdain, making due
With the rain.
These times I'm learning not
To take things for granted.
Suddenly something from the past
Relapses, like moss,
Growing  growing thin
Paper cuts on my sailboats.
It's been harder to touch that which I missed
So much;
On days spent
Simple and spinning.
Like records of music with lyrics I remembered
Flashbacks reflected, like mirrors.
Sphinx riddles at crossroads, buried
Deep within visit again, like ol' kin, but
With a demeanor far more sanguine.
Surrender!
Let nature dance!
Laugh at the process' howl!
Laugh at longings growling and
Scratches!
Redeemed to something undefined.
Realizing truths where weary lies once lived;
Cracked and bent.

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

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.

{ Do those moments of, sort of returning
An unwanted favor
( To some pre-labelled "Victim" )
Silence the rage and
Undigested trauma
In sharp slurs and bitten beatings? }

Soft-spoken and fragile ramblings and
Strumming of chords
Under moonlight.
Torn visionaries speaking in
Luminaries;
Twilight tea bags and broken sandals.
Starting off...
Beginning nervous,
Mistaken by another's train of thought, but
Ever blissful and convinced;
Knowing all the time.
Searching for a moment...
THE moment!
A sudden explosion!
Dazed on faith, maybe, or drunk on inspiration!
Things that may be someday, but either way-
True courage, this thing,
This magic called faith!
Just humble spirits,
Full-bellied spirits
With restless limbs and
Fluorescent wings, invisible.
Rustic sincerity and understanding;
Glasses over swollen azule eyes...
Distillation of hymns
And smoke;
Coffee stained and
Delusional in a pill popping coma!
Whisked away by b-flat, and ones lust for harmonies.
Shooting
Bows and arrows
Aimed at the farthest lushest niche
In the sky;
Opening and closing like a door.
Always becoming!

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?"

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

Saint Valentine's cards of cherubs wrapped
In red ribbons
Wresting In pockets Of a trench-coat lying removed.
Pulsating street lamps revealing glittering
Flecks of snowflakes lining tired streets
With skyscrapers.
We covet empty bottles thrown with the intention to shatter;
Watering up the lawns.
I'm dreaming of palm trees rough,
Sun-kissed, and swollen
Like bumblebees had stung them.

Shifting iris' from corner to corner,
Not missing any pleasurable encounter;
Sinking in ***** and choking In smoke.
Lines cut with maxed out credit cards and
Tokes from glass pipes shaped like octopi;
There's single roses and small
Teddy bears
Red hearts hanging from strings from the ceiling.

The wallflower with no significant other In particular,
Seems peculiar in
Contrast to a sparkling demeanor;
Apprehensive to be present, and trying to disguise It.
Everyone is stumbling, dropping their cigarettes;
Howling at the Moon and
Laughing wildly!

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

Standing at the grocery store
Purchasing some tea
Eyeing magazines of kings
And queens
I approach the counter and see those
Icons of notoriety who love the people who
Worship them
To see what the masses heart belies...
False idols on pedestals
Dripping nectar, donning diamonds and
Pretty halos of foxglove-laurel.
What Is it that gives us purpose?
Your likeness caught within a picture
Hung up with tacks
A poster In some teen's boudoir?
Mirrors shattered and
Speculations
Will my person be controversial?
Completely surrounded by
Rumors and
The flashy sparks of cameras.

So Vogue says you need
Plastic surgery
And collagen.
Redeem your youth
(Slice thy skin)
After all ugliness is a sin

Am I special?
The Presley of Instagram?
A showcase in everyone's dream
The Monroe of Tweets
You James Dean fiends
You know taking
Selfies is the new disease
I pray! Matinee idols
Do you want to live forever?
Facebook me a savior
Re blog me till I'm real and
Could you tell me who I am?
I've lost myself in Wonderland

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

Steep staircase to a long hallway
Pale curtains to open windows
Graze the air
All the way down to a narrow door
Waiting there
A door that lead to nowhere
Black void on the otherside
When you close your eyes before
Dreamtime
All I see are twinkling orbs akin
To the night sky
Blinking in this shadow room
Drops of water dripping down
I call out "hello"!?
Drip drip drip's the only sound
In this place that has no beginning
Or end
Suspended in space I call out
"Hello" again
And suddenly before my sight
Images glow in those orbs of light
That time my parents were in a fight
Screaming
Broken glass
My dad's arm was bleeding
That time I was trying to learn how
To ride a bike
I never got it down in spite
And the time I was bitten in the
Face by Warlock the choclate
Pitbull I'd almost erased from my
Memory
Those morbid night terrors I used to have-
I'm still afraid of the dark sometimes
There's the time shuffling down the sidewalk when I had decided I would runaway but my father found me later that day
That's me cutting my arm with a butcher knife when I decided in middle school I wanted to end my Life
I'm outside my body watching
Myself passed out at my own house
Party in high school
There's me knocking in the Neighbor's door barefoot
In the snow
Then the images melted and
Dissipated
I found myself
Wrought with secrets
Pieces of me untold to myself
Emotions resurfacing that I
Wasn't aware that I felt
Inside of me is this universe
As uncharted and vast as
The sea
These scribbles in notebooks are my
Legacy
So remember me
Remember me when you lye
Awake in the middle of the night
And the world's quiet and you're
Pondering the question of what
Life means
Your not alone.

Speak your wondering mind;
Lost and untold,
Let us unwind the fractured fragments,
Belittled sensed and reconfigure'd, that
Lived there.
Comatose and disfigured,
In absinthe,
Like star shine in a beautified
Distilled ease;
Touched and caressed by the
Breeze;
Calming your disease(s)
Breathing peace, precious, like emeralds and
Opals.
A mind once misused; Now an
Ingenue, configuring sparks of delight, making
Tempered pain among the night. 
Stuck with strawberry's sight.
I sip on honeydew and pray
In my mind some
Lavish desires colored
Maroon (on fire); some
Sweet'nd mystical umpire calling my name and
Igniting my life aloud!
With proud, glistening oceans of
Dreams,
I am estranged;
Lost within a  living cruel
Misconception of
Fairy tales in my heart

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

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

The door is shut and I'm
Thinking usually
About a system that doesn't work
A tire that is broke
When payday will be
And about a guy lately
I'll tell myself I need to write
It's been hard to concentrate
Like I was tapping my feet
Contorts into strange positions
Like an acrobat
Rusted pinecones
On the sidewalks curve
Pine trees dark green
Christmas lights and the
Colorado flag with the red C
Draped on balconies
Tilted driveway with
Small patches of ice
Telephone wires scrape the sky
And the poles line the streets
Sometimes there's screaming
On the concrete stairs
I'm lost to myself and everyone
Else when abrasive moodswings
Speaking in contradictions
Plague my weary mind
Like I'm running away from Someone else
Like they forgot my name that
I call myself
And there's no cave deep
Enough
No storm volatile enough
No words clear enough
People everywhere in my
Peripherals
Spacing out in broad daylight
Like I've never heard of a
Clock
Winter fell in love with the
Idea of Summer
And tried so hard to capture
That lofty breeze
Dreaming of palm trees and
Oceantides and tanning
Under saphire skies
But
Winter means hot coco and
Layers of blanket
And when Winter tried to change
He was heartbroken when the
Icicles persisted in spite
I guess I should know
Like do old couple's constantly
Question if they're in love?
No.
They don't.
It's unspeakable.
I must be blind maybe
Like when I worry about how
You feel when you're sitting right
Next to me
Sometimes I freak myself out
Looking for a semblance of
Safety in us
I guess I should know
You're never homeless for
Earth's your home
It's the air you breathe
When your home is under
Your feet
And they call the shelterless
"Poor"?
What is family anymore?
It became glimpses
From the present to the past
To the future
Still like a hearse
In technicolor
Revolving doors passengers
Slide through
Just passing by for a little
Bit of time
Mesmerized by candlelit
Pictures on shelves
By books only passerbyes
Glance at.

Distributed.
Broken pieces.
My soul unsheath'es;
Shattered pieces
Of glass around my home.
I'm alone, as always, torn
On brightened Wednesdays .
Pieces of him lingered: His cologne,
His scent now a meager
Descent.
I'm dazzled by his long-
Remembered brilliance!
Silent as an iguana, mismatched
In a broken melancholia.

Digging underground
Found the diamond
Lost
In the crowd
Soundly speaking on the floor
Beaten badly wanting more
Bruises
Delirious about the uselessness
Of therapy and Sunday classes
By the masses
Childhood memories of running
On a beach
Sand between my toes
Mechanics strange and
Wired like gadgets
Tickets on trains to seafoam
Shores when
December comes
Beguiling smirk
Gazing like a toddler in wonder
At the said shutters of others
Maybe in split-screens with
Vivid color
The lackluster utterings die
At the sight
Cat-eyed and wild
Sighing like a child at coarse
Trivial arrivals of those
Suicidal yearnings resurfaced by
Days-break
Dysfigured in space as shapeless
As the speech that defined it
Butterfly darlings my
Coat flowing on the windless air
As a cocoon I'm enveloped in
Bed by many toppled books to
Beseech in disparity at all the
Shared pairs I erased
Like tickled bruises all sunken and
Hopeless in keeping up with
The moment
Gloves stitched
Kerosene patched dribbled
Against sunscreen
Tired-awake unable to sleep
Fascinated with miracles and the
Shadows in sight
Dismissed while in a crisis that
Felt steep in the night of one's
Soul
A tourniquet strapped around
My elbow in the cold snow
What's the criteria for the
Mentally unsuitable
We are preachers, poets, wives
With ribbons in our hair
Cradled in hate
Dissipated softly only to
Awaken with grim morning
After morning
Dark-days of chaos-tripping
Laid flat on my stomach-ache
Removed by time like an
Hourglass state of mind
Written on my *******
Glamorous sheen caught deep
Within the recessions of my
Brain
Unseen and I imagine
I am that firefly caught in the
Glass container
Blue as lapis lazuli
Blue as the livor mortis after
Suffocating

Black mood ring reflecting
A grizzly scene of hysteria's;
Madness swells and fills me up,
The senses scattering.  

Ludicrous, somewhat insane, and
True;  what's this collision
That speaks through you?
Bleeding incoherent babble
Has been making you anxious; no one
Can understand the happenstance of
A living breathing chaos.

The heights and depths don't freak me out!
Life on the edge's what life's about!
A problem bandaged
To a bed..
Drawn up as
A raving lunatic and
Imprisoned in your own mind.
Searching for something you couldn't find,
Endlessly...

They said
"Go get some wrest"
(Course sleep is for the dead)
"Don't you feel tired?"
(It's all in my head.)
Lingering by the window,
Dreaming.

The dark dungeons of
My psyche;
I always felt pushed into a corner,
In my soul,
I felt far away;
On some minuscule forgotten island,
Where the Sun is pale blue
And the Moon is clay.

Some days I can't tell the right directions to take and
Some days I don't know the right decisions to make.
I was looking for a handsome face-
A spirit to awaken me and you are
Giving me chills.
Started fast, like a rush,
Straight to the heart;
You got me
Singing sweet, in Sync,
Somewhat like the lark.
Whispered to me  Sunrise lullaby's;
Uttering I held  in musical boxes in dreams and
As far off as it seems,
I see you in my sleep.
I pray for those nights
In your company I keep.
Should you forget you were the one who
Stirred my soul, I'd remind you
Again, hands clenched,
On some stroll.
Through those parks in the dark
Through some hill in the rain
What it is I'm trying to say is
You relieve silent pain
In your eyes I dance
Flickering on a wick
What fortune teller could have prophesied
The one and only's the one I'm with?
All these great secrets will be for you
And I,
To share with one another on
Sunrise lullaby's.
Steadfast our smiles and bright our future seems;
Far cry when life was
Tearing open at the seams.
We will sit by the streams cooing like
Orphans who found home
Bask in Starlight when I shake
(When you moan).
**** the demons who separated us at birth!
I now understand what a little tenderness is worth....
Beat from street swoons we doze off and fly,
Drenched in the trappings of a
Sunrise Lullaby

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

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

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