it's 1 am and I am wide awake

missing, yearning for you

missing the way you laid your head on my chest
as I held you in my arms

Relishing our hearts pressed together
beating side by side
beating in tandem
drumming into lovers oblivion

I miss those deep brown eyes
Your plush lips
The way you smell and taste
I got high off you

I dare even mention that

I love you

and will continue to love you
from afar

I've always heard when you love someone
Let them go

and how this keeps me up at night

Sitting here with you tonight
has given me
the clarity I desperately needed.

That the ride of life
will carry on
regardless of if I am
strapped into my seat or not.

That I am
directionless
for the first time
and I have no idea why or how
I am to carry on.

That despite your warm body
nestled closely into mine,
you really don't give a **** about me.
We may be talking intimately
like friends do,
but this relationship we share
is nothing close to friendship.

So now I must make the decision:
to let the truth weigh me down
or allow it to carry me above the clouds
and start anew

It's 2:00 AM now...
I think I'll just go home

disposable contacts
flat-faced to night stands
rims upturned on the bathroom counter
crumbled in my jean pockets
the evidence is clear
your mark is forever left on me

Why is it
that I
feel closest to you
when this
simple timestamp
appears before me?

Can you explain this digital phenomenon
that verifies your existence?

That you do
indeed
breath and eat and dream;
that radio silence
is
the most empty sound of all?

Why is it
that I
feel closest to you
when this
simple timestamp
appears before me?

And yes I lover her,
young passenger.
Contagious resolve spills over
every side of her baby face.
She walks alongside ghosts,
marveling the air's open wounds
and smelling the mystery
behind the songs the wind plays.
The way she moves
is like knives and sugar
freckled with fumbles
and quick as stallions.
My heart silken
and she
the theme of my mega-mix.

This is an eastward trek on repeat.

                                             A tape cloaked in static,
    clicking and turning over itself.

A departed decade's daydream
                                     whirling towards Lands of Plenty.

                                                         With nebulas dot dot dashing into Eternity,
eyes are locked on the horizon as plasmic ghouls
             gravitate and spindle from a restless breeze.

                                                                     Why probe
                                                                     another world;
                                 Let the space jazz
                                 lose your mind;
Slide down the
Wormhole
as asteroids
light the Moon?

In the zone, everything begins to shine.
                                                                          Feel goods
                                                                 engrained
                                                         in verbal tides.
                                                        A tale
                                     abundant
in
sweet illumination.

i bathe in serene
sleepy mountainside ledges
kissed by lips of fall

Fuchsia butterflies dancing south
of opulent skies
signify yet another year
has come and passed;

There is nothing left for no one
but a crystal kiss upon these rolling hills;

The colors on the horizon
drained of flesh,
the bourbon in this stained mug
licked away,
and the messy red curls
atop my head
lay in piles
on the floor.

Ringing static
undisturbed,
an ocular void
resides in the mirror

I'm going to wake you up,
shake you up,
and leave you with
the scent of Morning Wood
fresh on your lips.

Tumbled and tangled
in the smoke of cedar,
we'll listen to the whistling of the
aged-redwood.

Quivering artisan candles
neither match nor compare to
our warmth,
and the best scent's throw
is time wasted
until June 4th.

Bedhead hair is the best look,
an inferno of dreaded curls
knotted and frazzled on high.
Shuffling into the kitchen
she finds her way to the coffee ***
before any kind of greeting
dares escape her sleepy smile.
With freckles resembling
a ******* masterpiece
my eyes grow green(er) with envy;
that gene never dominated with me.
"So what time did you get in last night?"
she asks with a wide grin.

And so the Interrogation begins...

A present
of citrus flames and gorgeous warmth
wrapped up in ribbons
of thick gray trimming
nicely disguise her demon-like temperament.
Callused digits and snapping embers
snarling a ferocious alarm,
her gnashing luminous teeth
latch on to unprotected areas and leave a bite
that kills all
curiosity  
behind her
ravenous energy.
Charring and blistering the helpless prey,
her malevolent laughter torments from afar
while she quickly retreats
to her den,
nibbling her bedtime snack.
She dispenses poison like a teenage lover leaves hickeys,
even the most common and revered remedies scarcely pacify the
scars.
And yet she is unapologetically herself,
brazen,
raw.
She is magnetic.
And untouchable.

soft dawn electrifying the stillness of night

heated humans reduced into one puddle

the sound of breath escaping slumber

silky fingers gingerly trailing muscle

a slice of toast swaddled in milk fat

this lazy morning is sweet like butter

I took you to my favorite place
right after.
You wore your "adventure hat"
I ******* hated that piece of felt
You chattered aimlessly
hinted at prospective bliss
The flashing lights were before me
yet the food
told me to proceed
Fried food seemed intimate enough.

roaring river

deep inside

rush forth

flow fiercely

radiate strength

~

hooked in a riptide

direct me
to

a new adventure

another challenge

a second chance

~

buoyant

immobilized

i surrender
to you

to ultimately determine

the destination

Her breath is the lavish humidity
She sings with the symphonies of crickets
Her tears are delicate rainfalls, washing the silence
Her breathing is the wind that shivers the palm trees

She calls out to you
Wraps you in Her arms
Cleanses you,
Heals you

She is serene
She is abundant
She is warmth
She is Love

Mother Bali, watch over me always
Deliver me Home

She says she has none,
but her daddy issues run deep.

She pops pills and binges on tequila
to feel empowered and alive.
Intoxication controls her
and she gets behind the wheel.
The possible danger, legal ramifications;
they do not matter.
She wants the fleeting source to fill the void.
Her actions are impulsive, flighty
she is always searching...
searching....
searching...

She licks her lips, lusciously seductive
and gives away the milk.
The cows move too quickly now,
even for cows.
Then here comes the Crazy Parade
led by the depressed conductor.
Disoriented mutterings, ****** frustrations;
no one watches, no one cares

Her ruin is a full-time job
the 8 to 5 never ends.

She says she has none,
but her daddy issues run deep.

Sunlight's abrasive presence
provokes a heated isolation
stewed together in a
cauldron of perishables,
stoney partitions
metal dividers
bind, slay
serene slumbers
cued by the waning sol,
an aubade crooned
by Mr. Bluebird
shifts crystal puffs
harnessing Skinfaxi

Maybe it's your hair thrashing
or the guitar in your hand
or the duck walk you have perfected.
Howling with laughter,
I try to catch my breath
and piece together words unspoken:
I want to see more of what you are doing
                                                           ­              right now

You are young and wild.
Eager and restless.
"Emotionally imbalanced",
sporadic
"unstable"
Yet you have mastered this fine dance, and
will continue to find the footing
because a new beginning will dawn
and tonight is all you have.
Yes, you are far from where you are going.
But you are in the eye of a fine tempest.
Isn't the loss of vision perfection?

griming squeals and cavernous drops
catapulting into euphoria

i, the beat's marionette as
a grimy dirt cadence possesses me

puff puff , a stink is infiltrating
yet its sweetness clears a mind distressed

notice the Flying Ruby , eyes mesmerized
by the smoke cascading from my lips

******* touching and spliced hands
encompass a transaction of intimacy

Back-to-back with the driver,
I see a diminishing world.

A spaghetti road
twists and ascends
just to spit me back onto
cemented migrations
that everyone else is
calling their own.

Twin yellow lines
pacing even-steven
end in aggressive Morse codes
I cannot make out.

These panoramic cliff sides
and igneous intrusions are
miraculous,
magnanimous!
Yet, those too
begin to fade away.

Back-to-back with the driver,
my life moves forward
backwards,
blinded from the future
as the past shrivels
into nothing more
than blotted memories.

In the middle of a relentless snowstorm,
hidden in the shadows and clouds,
an oscillating flame
inhales the wind's howls
and churns amongst the gusts of snow
to produce a relentless beam
that refuses to atrophy.

The flame lingers in the blizzard
and brushes off the beatings
until a stillness forms
in the thick of fear.

The snowflakes sizzle,
the flame sears the crystalline stars;
but a pure reform
refreshes the turbulence
and allows it to dwindle
for one more day.

it's different.
not foreign, nor organic.
tongue flicking and suckling at her sweet spots,
she moans and whimpers in response to my touch.
she is a smooth, warm creature
wrapped in alabaster
the epitome of comfort.
i see the appeal.

I can no longer say that I am
jolted.
There is nothing more to be
added
or
mended.
What
came to pass was ice
melted
by the Saharan sun;
annihilated,
forever
vanished.
But even from its infancy when things were good and true,
the foremost duty was
always
truancy.
I can no longer say that I am
jolted:
my indifference is the
green light.

Hunched over the stove top,
meticulously folding melted chocolate
over and over itself
in infinite tides of glossy excellence.
Incorporating yolks into sugar
whips a wholesome protein
into sweet thick ribbons
that tumble from their metal beaters.
Milk and cocoa powder whisked
until ominous brown clouds
explode into the sky.
The slow incorporation of pieces
climaxes into a smooth custard,
so **** and luscious
you'll lick it off your own fingers.
Any attention that can be
drawn to your mouth is
good attention,
particularly that of homemade ice cream.

I call off the night with a growling, thunderous appetite for affection.

Just when I think my brain may explode from overstimulation, I encounter a yearning for an uncomplicated embrace.

I am in awe of these beautiful, strange people. Magnificent spirits worthy of everything their heart desires.

With a tightly clenched jaw and throbbing eyes, I am overwhelmed with wonder. Magic comes about in an abrupt fashion.

the shower is on
the water never ceases
and I have to ****

do not read too much into it

this glowing neon door frame
mounted on this white wall
is not significant or special

it does not speak to social issues
or spur political discussions

it will not call upon you to reflect on your life,
your decisions, your mistakes

it is simply a vibrant structure
buzzing from high voltage currents

again, don't read into it

it's exactly what it appears to be

I like watching you in the kitchen.

Your motions are swift,
from the stove to the food processor
to the sink to the dishwasher
it's one seamless flurry.
A graceful hustle.

Country music is playing in the background.
You don't know all the words,
but every once in a while
a lyric escapes your honeyed mouth.
I smile
because it's a line filled with weight.
A heavy pondering
with careful reflection.
I can see that in your smile.

As I sit here,
eyeing you with adoration,
you approach me
with a petite sample on a silver fork.
I do not hesitate
to open my mouth,
like a baby bird begging for a secondhand worm.

Just like everything you have ever given me,
it is marvelous.
It's of good quality and impeccable flavor,
ladled forth
from a generous heart.

I like it here in your domain.
My eyes will feast on this view
forever.

Let's move.
Together.
I don't want you to not be touching me.
Gliding, leaping, spinning, jumping,
slithering, leaning, wrapping, lifting,
grabbing, rubbing, stroking, groping,
singing with your beautiful body
I am amazed by
your power,
the ability
and willingness
to share


                                                         ­ and here I am
                                                          keep­ing to myself, trembling
                                                       ­   completely immobile
                                                        ­  with no ability to play


This fine madness,
a simple extravagance


                                                  ­         and yet I sit here waiting
                                                         ­  for my cue to join

cheap beer,
hand-rolled cigarettes,
crisp air slicing the night,
the divide crumbles beneath the beastly black ball
plunked into a crook.
gentle expressions liberated
from an
anchored breeze
as minds intertwine under the
beaming orb of night.
bedrock activities in conjunction with
still, articulating hearts
mimic
an innocent jubilee
that only morning knows of its arrangement.

Don't you ever
lose
your ability to dream
and
never stop searching
for the light
that lives within you

Even if it is
at the bottom of the barrel,
among the residue
of trial and error

The lotus grows in murky waters
With roots strong in the silt,
its beauty culminates
as it springs forth
from the dark lagoon

Promise
you will never stop
That you will self-actualize, hope,
aspire to be

Practicality kills the soul,
the possibility
of a glimmering tomorrow
is the fuel
for life's journey

from the top
of your head to the tips of your hairy toes,
you exude an unquestionable
brilliance

the theories
streaming forth from your noggin
leave a trail of droplets wherever you wander, and i,
skedaddling behind
you,
wait for the remnants
to fade into me

i yearn for your beautiful mind to be infused into my own,
to see what you see
to ponder your thoughts,
vanishing away from what had been
and pursue the absoluteness
of a sitting duck

Heart hope gurgling
From a gagged symposium
Fused by hollow cheese

tonight she is
tip-toeing
on
little peach teacups,
teetering
on tiny saucer plates,
and
relishing the
somber chimes
left on their delicate
frames

her toes
embroider doilies of the
Universe,
her smile a beam
of
Light
exuding from
a bewildered heart

from
setting to setting
she samples a
taste
of little cakes and cucumber sandwiches
before her,
but
continues
to float
over the tableware
until she meets
the warm embrace
of
morning's
sweet release

Summertime is right around the corner
as on-again-off again beams
shoot forth from hypnotic clouds,
and tickle frosted mountains.
Their immensity booms from a substantial deck,
but their peaks still tremble
from forces under the threshold of awareness.
How grand you are;
to stand so strong
and anchor us to this beautiful land;
to sew dreams of hope deep into our souls;
to tattoo upon our hearts the concept of transience.
In admiration,
and apprehension,
we carry on with our lives with a single wish
to feel as relevant as you;
constantly mystified by your powers
that diminish us to mere specks on a landscape.
We are eternal wanderers,
mere travelers in your hands,
and wish only to be guided
by grace.

Java and a thimble of cream
A churning station
Clinging to the last bits coursing my veins
Lost breath
Singular stillness
Meander these Elysian Fields
Oh, won't you come with me?
Take my hand
I'll show you what I see
A mystical haze
A surreal nature
A whimsical twirl
the Sun caressing your mortal being
I want to stay here forever
Please, come with me

Crystal clear compounds
Tarnished
With a sloppy Stain

An imperfect existence
Imprinted
Upon pure provenance

Reflections
Warped and wrenched
Into a gruesome
Unaccredited vision

Scrape the crust
Of this placid pool

Retract
Marvel
Bygone hygiene

Crystal clear
No more

bass palpitations and neon fragmentations
briefly deflect the cruelty of
your perceivable
emptiness

a rainbow of sweat, anonymous
stems encompassing sauntering spirits
a fully elevated identity
identifies the rationale
behind the soul's existence.
THERE IT IS,
dangling before doped surveillance;
can't you taste its sweetness?

and
before you grasp it,
the crescent wanes
pacing shuffled steps
tracing fleeted memories.
nights with beautiful intruders
terminated with sonorous ears,
oscillations of the frame,
and you,
crashed
on pillow-top.

how did you got here?
recollections
excruciating
tattoos of a misleading
reality.

I was lured to the diversions of paradise
by the lethal gleam in your eye

Swaying to rhythms of the wild isle
I lost myself in your embrace,
seduced by freedom and simple desires

I cried out for you in pleasure
as your tongue caressed my inner thighs,
completely disarmed
by the ****** unraveling

And I enjoyed every ******* moment.

If it not for reality,
we would fly among the stars

Good morning, Sun. It is good to see you

You wake me ever so gently
and call me to begin this new day

I like the night you see but something about morning
calls to me

Perhaps it is my love for this quiet valley
and the feeling that while everyone is still asleep,
I am sewing  intentions for an extraordinary day

And before your golden rays kiss the sky
I believe even
I
wake before you

Good morning, Sun. Let us begin

Falling fast
From high above
The dawning
Delirium
Faltering
from Ego
Bitter In Taste
Sweet in Action
And this is
When
You must
Jump
Knowing that
Soon
The Ground
Will meet
You