A metropolis
between us glass walls, formic
art of consumption.

Eyes barren within
like landscapes of the wasteful
dead as their highways.

From Central Park bench
Dogs walk folk on jogging trail
crumbs of passersby.

Spectacles' dark shades,
Soldier, drone, still hive alone.
They storm in silence.

Window of locusts
In view of our summer fruit,
cosmic flesh so blue.

If . . .

Wish The Whole World Would

Be without

Self

Opinion

How lovelier

The Whole

within

Could be

Without.

Engarde!

Constantly

At Odds

Do you trust *no one

Oh no but I do trust

Everyone

A fool's errand

None say

So I say:

"Why live in fear?"

*Constantly...

Half moon high
In a deep navy sky
The clouds like spider cotton

Blue ivory husks
Umber grey claws / webs
The deepening dusk
In the navy sky

The streets a flood a river of orbs
Armada of effulgence / suns
Headlights
Streaming pass
Crisp neon plaza shores
Cartoon sharp signage
Accessorizing concrete
Floors

The evening is dressed fine eyes smyzing
Shadows floating to be forgotten
While down the road
Neighborhood way
Skitters Liliput creatures
In shells of costumes
As squeals of laughter festoons
Live tintinnabulation

Like rattlers against the dark

As they Scurry cross dim / spatial street
In demand of what is given
From each and every door
Treat and sweets
All their tricks cached in grins
Of teeth.

All Hallows' Eve
Hallowed be the glee
Even tho' beneathe
The web of grey
Life is precious / breathing

Fear forgotten with dismay

We should live in celebration
Childlike everyday

Our wonder
As rattlers against the dark
behind the masks of face
In our eyes there is
The spark
That lights all life

From wastes of
Hollow wind
Chilling cries bleeding
Undead the unseen
From this cirque city

All done up in bright disguise

Happy Halloween
Death as one with life...

Closer now, to the concrete,
Closer to the day I’ll be thrown out, on the street
Closer to the company of indigent creeps

Closer now, to the lord I must pray
Not today oh please not today
So close to self defeat, my thinning belief
Malnourished within retreats

Losing my mind, my will, and urge
to even eat,
Still, I carry on, bury that dread
a tiny voice so close in my ear
Fed by my self doubt & fear
Telling me I’m meant to be, belonging there
Walking in my sleep—a life of the least
Almost human, flotsam freak, jetsam weak

Closer to the ****** creeps out there
Continue to pray…
That someday the world will notice
Finally know me, see me, love me
Learn my name, in his name I’ll pray,
For my soul to keep

Closer to homelessness, I’m ashamed to speak
But for now—on a stranger’s couch I find sleep
Better than the dreaded bed
Of cold concrete streets,
It’s stench of **** and ****…

Thank goodness for today, for this,
Amen.
For a hopeless, helpless man,
Amen.


(Please God please, have pity
Shed your light on me—a nobody,
begging you, please.
I am ready.)

Wallace, my man Wallace, fell
In love with his wife,
For real for real
Fell in love.

If someone should happen upon
To see the two of them
If by chance passed by
Them two together

How odd a couple
They may say
She's such a little thing
Something so prestine to
Wallace, homeless guy howler.
Who is more himself with her than
Without her.

Mr. dumpster-diver-king!

The two individually are
Themselves genuinely
Together lovey-dovey,
Not an act.

Wallace falls in love,
Says that's a fact
Knowing that it also means
He’s found someone
to lose.

Still, Wallace knew
love.
It's the god-honest Truth.
A lonely man’s church.

Unfolding...

I am mourning before the dawn
unveiling
crumpled bedspread sheets
a hollow space
where comfort once found
your slumber deep,
I find an echo
of your breath
as my tears interrupt
a yawn / a stretch

while trust feels like a home
invasion,
a **** save for the flesh...

I am a trail of moisture
upon the cheeks, the searching
throughout a graveyard home
yielding empty halls,
bleak,
of no fruition / a tomb;

I am the ache within
Darkly,
My harsh and sordid
imagination / disambiguations
roaming
To thoughts of you
in someone else's fever
a slicing cut that opens
and equals that pain

unleashing avalanche of blood
but it's only a crimson thought
which floods,
again & again...

I’m in that home, now
kept unkempt
like the dust on portraits’
sepia gloom… and
the sound of bare feet
clapping
hardest upon wooden floors

In a saloon
lacking conversations
without a care taken
of why / from where / or whom

I once had strength
which waned
Like the more ocean waves
punch the cliffs and shore,
my reserves began again to drain.
I collapse into bed,
On pillows, lay.

I am the hope which wants
what once had breath before
Long ago
the loud cry— begotten prayers
to ancestral sky
fearful Old hearts and minds
One’s life alive yet
Afraid
to die….in due Time
           
I am a tomorrow of love yet made

inept of any trust
I have been blind told to break...
(My iron will to rust)
I am alone
since gone are those yesterdays
you romanced such secrets
with escapades
(grinders found in spades)
I am the hush that must escape
never getting to know
the calligraphy & the colors,
all the facets of love's very face,
unfeeling
replaced

I am a violin
from some distant space,
far and away
a wish
a yearning
as California’s burning
whilst
Asking kindly

Love me
if only
for the sake of today
for I am
lonely...
for I am the light
each night

unfolding...

Alone, washed ashore, by a storm out at sea / upon an ocean so world vast / creation / such are we...
The monster came from dark lagoons (within) / the deep / from a cyclone's cyclopic eye / microscopic minuscule / in the Atomic plane / astral, cosmic spaces:
The Gargantuan
That feeling : like a Godzilla / Dragon looking down,
looking to eat us.

The mountainous undulations (Grand Canyon roller coaster)/ and the thunderheads overhead, lightning in cotton candy / reflection / all dead / shades / of grey (swallowing itself)...

The hellish ride / upon the way towards death process

Yet the experiences most remembered, were the minutes that lit brightest, when I was made / alone / on monsoon ***** serpentine sea / monster of / "an ocean (that) swallowed my parents..."

The poet wrote about his solitude,
About that boy in the headlines:

"Survivor Makes a Storm" / "Monster-Trucks of Life"
/ ["When Towers Fell"]

"The Masters of .Com / Consumers' Industry / Of Games, A Won Not Sum"

"Defeat Will Rewrite (un-write)"
                                                          Their Mystery.
"Into The Blue / Absolut"

Nothing takes away fear like being dead... And Bobby McFerrin said : "Don't Worry Be Happy now"

We whistle in paradise, the poet wrote / the Romantics still yet all to be heard / an unfinished History / Novelties / Neverending / Story of Us

Lovely loving Love...

The Poet Wrote :  (this one here)
"Alone, Washed Ashore" - All aboard!

*(Falling Up)

Oh Gravitas,
dearest vineyard Spring
Avalon mists and quietude
on high Everest summit's
clarity

Oh winsome lover
how all your breezes kissing
cool on my young island skin
     learning in my wild solitude
     away from the lassitude
of desperate pangs of impoverished men
families of mine...

Why is it, in the crickets' strings
as they lull the day beyond
as the blood orange bruises to blues
and shadows to ocher
     the char on murdered campfires
     once full of dance, charismatic
     surfaces of twilight seas
why is it the only tinsil and sparkle
the coconuts know
     silver and neon golden
spirit fingers
and as I squat
early evening relieving myself
commingling with starlit you:
   
    My soft hush of song
Palm leaves and mangroves, indigo
invisible fingers strumming
the humidity like harps
     wind gusts, the bush, cavorts ...

summers without but all open windows

How close we were then
when I ran lonely in toddler ******
and all around me
your Gaia fairies in the brine
and precipitations...

(misty breath of crashing beaches
waves constant partcipation)

Without language I learned by you
ate the sour leaves and red peppers
stealing pan de sal in windows
     obvious village gifts for the sprites
that I believed I'd become,
     without fear or ingrained social dread
no anger, nor words making up
the links of invisible chains
to keep me within their boxes...

I understood
without diction
You were and are the loveliest
vision ever I've seen
ever I awed
at first sight / all of you/ around me
all mine
a pulse in my heart...

I wipe my *** with smooth papaya leaves
now that the night has conquered
the high ceiling
now the wonder twinkling
clearer now
your jewelry treasures of stars
dangling on a darker face as beautiful
as the heat of it bright
during the days / your face...

Oh love, even as a shadow
in the abyss of midnight,
in chill evenings,
I am the blaze of the fires,
a rustle through the brush
     a yipping cub
     snarling at playing
a Lion

All yours, My Goddess
I would keep you dearest to me
and prevent any danger
from any that would destroy or harm
the vary face of our world
its bountiful's : your loving
nature / life

How close we are
and ever will be
even in man's mechanisms of impending
war
even 'til the very end
together in the fires we raise
with the mornings praise
and in finale I will descend
take the fall
For you

Life of my life,
myself for you as sacrifice
just say when...
I'll be your champion
and best-est friend

(Against the horizon's backdrop
a shadow of a small boy
is shadow-boxing the emptiness around him)

I am Lamb and Lion.
P.S. I Love You.                
                                Sincerely - your Champion

History has become muddled
Human presumptions supposedly
Tunnel Vision Bullet Train
Next stop Lost Angels

Have you heard the one about
The Goddess who loved a mortal man, a king of something surely
Brief as Ad Hominem
It's always been a life story
In every embodiment love takes
Turns to something else greater than mortal
Things caught in Time
Some wither in ignorance
Fragility of flesh
Romantic as the Wonder
Wandering in you,
Oh heavens
Suppleness of Love,
A face infinitely wide,
Space Time expanding
Apart from hearts find
Oh boy having much spirit.
In love, so true a light,
Apart from beloved dearest
To end his life as thus.
Human mortality falling for

In Love
With a goddess beyond
Time's measure
To be so loved, so rich a treasure.
It's that story in every legend
Come what may become
Knowing now what lies inside
Will have no worth of stone

His own worth, how great this love
Inside he is certain
The heart comes from the goddess of Love
He is certain and certainly
To take his own,
for the after Life with death
Just say k.n.o.w.
No to
Thoughtlessness
Run Amok.
Still, it sure sounds like the same ole
Love story: a bridge of swallows
Toward the heavens above,
Love's Fire flies in the spaces dark...
Birth of Life, is a Love Story.

A love we once wed

On Thanksgiving day,

Inside a little white chapel with an Elvis preacher

At the drive through window.

I had a different dream

How my true love stands in the light

We're on the beach with a close knit family

Friends are family

Circle of love with paradise

marrying us

That kindasorta expectatious fantasy

A lover truest bled

A love we once wed.

A is for Air / that begins in a breath
In the breadth of such a vision
At seeing true beauty,
In a grip of an asphyxiated inhalation
Caught like a deer...
Stunning beauty takes your breath
A is for Away.

B is for Bunches and bunches
Of *******
By those most Believing
In it’s complete *******, liars
Who weave it —call It.
B is for By the Way
In whom’s ******* do we
Trust? Truth is a must.

C is for Chances, not choices, taken
Which makes one feel truly free,
To place yourself out there
To let the fates decide
Let Chance, destiny’s child, be your guide
Or C what happens
When we’re open to Love.
C is for cry out loud, give silent hugs...

D is for Drive, and the Distance of your tries,
It’s the vehicle we control, sometimes as a passenger ride,
Or it’s that motivation, the combustion inside
Which moves us, push Us to further and farther than
Before we knew we would break, limited by
The reins of our conditioned fears
D is for doubts, the dauntless discard
D is for Disappears, driven by the engine of
Our hearts, and experiences rears fires loss
Memories high above
An albatross.

E is for the Evenings I fall into your Eyes,
Every kiss and Embrace,
Each breath exchanged, I recall your taste.
E is for the Elegance of the echo
Of your touch, the embodiment of an ache,
E is for the Eloquence of that hush
Every dream I wish to wake,
Or love to finally make...

F not for **** or for fracking fame,
It’s for face that is saved, for everything else
That’s F not for effed up freakazoids
Framing the fool or the wannabe fricassee'd.
F is for frozen soul, F is the finale of pitch dark hell
Without a tolling bell
It’s the silent sorrow of farewells.
F is for fire no devil could sell
Funk’n soul, none in hades
Doth ever tell...

G is for the gravitas of goodbye
It’s the gun which grieves
Beneath the soil and sky,
G is the goodness of tears
Love proves, falling from one’s eyes...
So long bereft of feeling
G is for guile...

How could a boy know of old legends--the myths, Otherly stories?
The superstitions of Yores, Exodus epic, them days biblical.
The rites of passages, our folks passed down,
Inheritance of Life lessons, the treasure so profound
Oh Heaven--how to even stand at it's foot...
What can Love know of this boy, but his heart so fragile a toy
Blindly his eyes pretending to see
Thoughtlessness killing the Bees
Paradise is slowly lost,
Our Harbor's Pearl...oh mother Earth...
All What Nots.
If this boy, I say
This boy, if he may
Knowing it's always been
A love story...

The heaviest stone
this desire need for Love.
Undying flower.

Sirens past midnight
Neon lights' city skyline
Tourists hauled away.

It smells like rain this morning
8 in the city sins

Like wet grass, greens
Like electric clouds

Muffler exhaust
From the A.M. Commute

On Desert Inn Road
A millipede of Toyota Fords
And Honda Accords

Mojo takes his usual ****
In his usual spot

In the wet grass, green
It smells like rain this morning.

Among the burlap landscapes of anguish
Muted expressions of starving babes
Need being the worst malady, yearning for wish...
Experiences so young, unhappy, should not be
Suffering war torn, fatherless, deathly empty.
Tourists whilst on safari from far away lands
Yelp and twitter, unyielding to the giant, travesty.

Ignorance is a selfie taken in the bush
Not a care to feel akin to human or witness, see
The child so thin with disease, is you, is me...

Slow globular crawl:
Dischord's mis-shapened body.
Mindless / Self Divides.

1.

The contradictions of being human, a human being inhumane
Becoming more or less / a worsting mess / the cause or blame;
The virus to all the rest in paradise, the succubi of Life:
Befallen Caines—outcasts blind / roaming wild all the while:
Sisyphus carrying the weight  of his hubris shame....

2.

What should the heart feel
When love departs?
A sinking, achingly, breaking
Waves of
Lonelinesses : the Hungers of our souls;
Openness, vunerability, blinded
By sickness of obsessions
Adolescent crushes
Each to their own
Detrimental emotions
How do we tame
Or breathe its oceans
How should the heart sleep
When we deny it
The filigree of
Feelings

From imperfect
Worshipping machines
Blind moving flesh
Sooner laid to rest
Non-transcendents
Unloved.

Body and soul,
Life is the dress.
To Love is trust.
True heart is gold.

(Still, How should it feel?)

No room to breathe.

This room

I will leave

My fears behind

Aging to grow

Making Up my mind.

This room’s to grieve,

Boxes / human shells…

I will leave

At the next / I will see

Fearlessly

Beyond

This room…

FRENCH KISS
Such buttery lips
Sweet cream-silks, wrapping our tongues,
Je patisserie.

Le VALENTINE
Red rose and sweet prose
Cyrano DeBergerac's
Moonlit balconies.

DESIRE
Burning in goose flesh
Yearnings with caldera-thirst
Your kiss is like rain.

DEBONAIR
Dean in gabled suits
Eloquent body, jazz-smooth
Sweeps her off her feet.

METEOR SHOWER
Friday night space lights
As we caress the hours
Streaks across the sky

ORIGAMI
The creases of us:
Tales of dragons and white ships
Neatly folded sheets.

VEGAS WEDDING
Romance thru sun roofs
"Hallelujah" honeymoons
Marriage number two.

BON VOYAGE
Like wide sails that cup
The high winds of this marriage
I'm at Love's mercy.

NAPE
*Warm whispers my lips
Down smooth meadows of your neck,
Sweet familiar bed.

Yeah.

Awake past midnight

An insomniac in a world of sleepers,

Creeps with god-awful

Dreams

Where’re the dreamers?

I see

Empty minds & broken hearts

Carriers of virulent Dark

Our shadows

Gorging on the world

Our souls

Lost in Oz

Praying to a wizard

Who’s a known fraud.

Fracking a

Way to never-was

We who claim to know

Love

Prey

Hand to mouth / hand in glove

The bare-knuckle

Fist

Fights to exist

To matter then still better -yet…

Who in this hell knows?

This place is estranged

Yeah?

Can’t wait to see tomorrow

Now that I’m awake

I Just couldn’t wait…

All I want is

Peace on / for Earth - today!

Oh Gaia - namaste.



So yeah...?

He has no suspicious ideas

about these hidden thoughts of mine.

The "Got it Twisted" wickedness

Boy

Have I got ideas of what I could do to him,

The experience of my prowess

The sensual heights

I could bring him

Service him the vice of moist

Lips of this mouth

The levies I could break...

Even now (ONE Mississippi)

The Earnestness of the warmth in my groin

(TWO Mississippi)

trains of thought / tight caboose / and whistling steam

(Thrice Mississippi...)

My imbalance seems becoming obvious

So we hurriedly converse,

Our talk :

Brief with business lingo

(My eyes high on his physique)

In the interim

Exchange our dimes,

Buddha in my hand...

"Wuss up?"

'Sup bro... (a synchronized nod)

In the pause of dead air,

I mad dog him with my eyes

                          (Drunk off his musk).

He has no idea about these ideas

The silent stealth of the naked thoughts in my *******,

The twisted scene of my imagination's

Motion pictures...


******** him off to completion.

What is the cost?  How high the price?

Our system of hypocrites and capitalize

Purchase a ticket to ride

To this land of milk and honey

Engorged ego and hoaders of paper money

Collectors of dust antiquated lustful for

Antiques

Road show sideshow side *******

Jones having too many itches

Fever is what we teach...

(Freedom is not having

To ask for permission to ...)

Pursuer of happiness be aware

What comes cheap around here

Is just despair,

The cost of elevating

Far from the pains or wanting or cares

Is just another addiction

Legalized

Oh mon frere, we cannot share

What freedoms we give birth

Were conquered long enslaved,

White fathers who scorch the earth

Have new chains, a price to pay

Welcome to the U S of TandA...

Dial tone.

Cell phone or land land telephonic

Ring a ding / fax machine singing

Digital data lines

Most during this time of the day

Lagging behind just enough hours

To have them at dinner

Tucking in the kids

Most during this time of mine

Pacific western sunsets

Around six ish

"It's not a good time"

Most declare, if they dared pick up

But 8 out of over a hundred calls

Succeed

The rest are answering machines

Hanging up

My computer's got your number

Disconnected no longer in use

Learn by repetition

"Can you spare any time?

To answer some questions"

Customer satisfactions

Answering machines never had

The answers for this survey

In front of me

I recite verbatim

To fill the quota

Just need one every thirty

Or oneself to

"Feel"

Opinions opinionate

"Leave something brief after the beep..."

Hello can you hear me?

Are you complete?

As I wait for the Deuce on Decatur
As the midnight hour grows later,
A young man walks on by
Says hi and not goodbye,

I recognize that look
He must be new to the Losing game
Like he’s been up wide awake
For a few nights, couple of days

Now roaming the city
Like a coyote in the dark
I’m familiar with that look
There must be sorrow in his heart

Though he had feigned a smile
His face seemed drained
His thoughts miles away
Coming down from being high?

I know what it took, that look
I recognize the hopelessness
Now wandering the darknesses
The shame of being forsook

I wonder what wrongs he’s made
When his spirit took a turn
With so many streets to learn their names
How that loss of will must burn

A passerby perhaps a runaway
It seems he's running from only himself
A young coyote wide awake
A ghost in a shell of his own hell.

A soul whose low or lost will roam
In search of light and warmth of home
Go heal your heart, or find your door,
I recognize that look, I know,
Been there before…

A passerby walking by.

Money does not make someone better than another who has less of it, money in itself cannot "make" anything at all. Yet it has unmade human kindness, damnable men and taxes.

If it's supposed to be "Do unto others as you would--done unto you.." The Golden Rule then presumes to say that All are equal.

There's no quantification or monetary value when it comes to "Life" it just IS or Isn't (alive). It's no one's business, it has no business. So then, begs the question Why do Men think themselves better or above it, divisively deciding what or who has the right to?
Why is Man if not Alive?
Who speaks for creation when men go to destroying the Garden?

Bold soul in death / glows,
in fears of the dark / nothing,
just the long walk home.

1
Wake to grey morning,
April fooled us denying Spring,
thunderous storming.

Sleet and angry rain
skeins of winter falling ice
floods and flashy mud.

Down rolls the deluge
quenching Joshua trees instead
of man's thirsty head.




#2
*Above the desert skyline roils a maelstrom of foreboding clouds
every shade of sorrow, the color of every tear, vapid greys all gathered up as thunder claps and rolls as though nimbus giants were bowling. April foolishly battling within the fronts and blows / the westerly gusting breath of  brine and pine whistles fast and harshly on the song of my wind chimes. Here comes the deluge of obese drops and tiny dots of flavorless ice, sleet and rain storm to drown the light of day, April fools in showers drenched, like insects avoiding the water board kind of fate, running amok like gutter dirt and city mud. Flash flood warning: the thunder explodes from the distant hills, as the floe of rage and silt, stampedes in whirling river runs, avoid the tsunami sized kind of flood. The deathly hollow of an undertow, April showers serious moods, and fools are silent in this hush, she has duped us to have our trust... and like thunder rolls the drums of war, lovers and flora soaking seeds, wait for Spring in May will be: the blossoming of thirsty soil, but now from the vantage of this balcony, watch the maelstrom roil...

It was ninety one degrees this April Third,
Having walked for two hours in the sun,
I was dying of thirst, So
I first went inside a
Green Valley Grocer, the clerk pointed to a sink at the back,
Playing with his bangs
He did not have a cup to offer, “nor do I care”
I shook my head, I stomped away,
Water water
So close yet so far...
I barely could swallow that’s how dry
I was hurrying across the boulevard to 7-11
Surely there my thirst will be quenched,
“Oh thank heavens,” as open door dings a bell.
I struggled to even ask the woman
at the counter.  
I felt my throat closing
May I have a cup, a drink of water??
“Are you gambling? Can’t have a courtesy cup without gambling.”
I says Seriously?
Then I went and there
I knocked upon an old neighbor’s door,
myself parched beyond Death Valley.
She answered, having her phone to her ear, as I politely asked apologetically—for some water, in pantomime.
Without hesitation she returned with a chilled bottle for me.
Ahh, Thank goodness for non strangers,
old neighbors, who see you, not looking through you or past you, unconcerned judgementalists. I have died of thirst
Thank you old Ms. Neighbor for the drank.
You’re the first sign of a good Spring…
(since COVID. Dig?)

"Who?" rather than tweet,
In the dark, keenly will see
all her nameless prey.

How can we claim to be "Free" men or women, when we are still slaves to a system that conditions and keeps us and our minds from questioning those masters, kings, and gods - that have such power because of the many who are afraid and ignorant of "knowing"... The old world needs us as much as we need the old world to die off, because there is no freedom if we are made to become less than what men or women are born to be. Free thinking explorers in search of the Truth, whether divine or absolute, we are the eyes of the universe to be made witness... We are creation now creators, inventively we engineer and architect, of all the beauty that our experience can aspire to ascend, we are the children of Light of Men. In this moment of Life and Earth, let us not offend, let us know peace and Love's worth, until our welcome to Eternal Birth...

Today is the first and the last day. Just now.

Love for all its glowing praise

Be not so simple to reflect

Too many subtexts to explain

Layer'd lessons so complex.

Inferno

Noon o'clock in Sin

City heatwave,

Sirens glaringly shrill

from a distance

our world

Like some distant memory

sounds of no one panics

Emergencies as common vitamins

like local topical

Anesthesia...

We've become

Familiar, indifferent,

to the hum

Drums, cymbals clash crescendoes

Shatters

Just background noise

As siren songs

Beckons

The shrill of metropolis

Sin City noons

The ambulance carries

Life / away

The distances between us

Is the numb we feel

Angrily congealed.

Anesthesia.

                       Locale : no where's.

A no one in a sea

of fine faces

As human as mine

Kind

Yet many yet recognize

Beauty of all one

Shine

an ocean of individual and lonely

Life

Eyes so so wide

Noon day Suns' / Alive

and Golden
           (Art)    Thine!



(flesh Begotten from
   Light)