im alive
im sleeping on a roof right now
in my dream i stand
in my dreams i spend most of my time thinking
sane beauty
*****
cut
fade
angels pray
driving home
my path is perfect
swallow loose bolts
weighed down by crosses
my crutches
shifting
getting sweaty
sweet odor
barely born waiting
strong gaps end
a big gun going
crushed by lead
fresh loving numbed
tried tight
bitter falls spent falling
gaze constantly
mistakes eventually
perfection is nostalgia
a mad scene with important colors
darker cool shades of summer routine
a small orange
think its called a tangerine
you melted trying to understand me
puppets control the telescoping cathedral glass
we are wooden
i am holy benedict
existence overrun
you'll try a new direction
holy benedict patron
12 minutes
11 moments



walking frigid down the crest of a wave
kept spinning deeply free
i am green and red and yellow
holding hands with elves on daytime trowels
on shoals of sandy beaches creaking
creeping deathly towards peaches hidden meaning in my mind
help me say peace and green lively words
heavens receipt
he owes you a lot more than his life
eternal sin wrapped in a rapture unfurling
you kept passing saturn underneath the no and yes
david started to say before you cut him off
safe bridges cross memories corner
painted a house insane colors
too bright for morning eyes or evening skies
tomorrow is mist
their heads are held on tightly by glues brought in by alien exporter importers in the late early century of passing grace
passing tightly daily ladies keep spinning ten fer a dollar
filled to the brim
fix the wide hook looked deeper for a picture of my childhood reflected on my sneakers floatng in argyle lake
stuck in the slots of a bridge passing
sleeping tv

the present winter regret
stones in a box
sins are my present regret
please cease ******* yellow nothingness
ground rises and screams
car bells jingle jangle over the bridge
daylight in the tropics
whats crystal isnt gold
rub your temples
senses create gates
crystal sense creates gates
bens mouth
breathing a bit before dawn
fractures of laughter spinning off the plaster
ringing disonant in my ears
diseased mucous membrane ringing dissonant into my ear drums
doubt // awake // tears
child // dog // mother
searching for the frozen scent of symbols
random grace worn like velvet weather
addiction couldn't break me
buried my wifes mother's
in a peaceful cloak
danny // jimmy // brian
all gone
tie a chain around me
thirst and wanting more
bite your tongue

a pounding howl on the bedspread
hell is sober but i am the opposite
facebook.com/this-what-i-want-people-to-think-of-me

my heart is red writhing pink slime
sun mother trust
black god figure head pulsing
for many years sinking into pink slime blood flood writhing
look today my eyes look livid lucid green
three headed dragon of envy beckons

i live in a guilt home built by my grandfather 457 years ago
37 years ago
born deaf and dumb writhing
old children howling at the sun mother trusting

takes too long to say goodbye
my pink soul pining
feeling for a door ****
listening for the turn of a door ****
i love you forever i think
look at my words gloat
listen to my words gloat

float to the sky past the trusting
sun mother gods head gushing
pink slime lusting
red leaves rustling
serpent tongue spitting
me eyes
my ears
and my arms

a ways to go right?
the dead light from a million dead stars?
feels that way at least
feel like i am icarus
feels like i want red white and black
heart pink
soul gone
things long
say sleep
please say sleep

place the sky in a box and hope for an easy end
sun mother truth trust lost
sun mother trust truth lost

because you snooped around my drawers
ive snooped in yours
im not color blind but ive never seen blue
i saw red once didnt care for it
remember the time you said you though you saw a ghost
a great pull
you wanted to die

burning boys who lived in water
wind and heat licked me raw
we sit big beneath little hands with loose skin
you lose people when you cant lie good
can you hear my thoughts?
No that's alright i believe you

pink slime river rising
when i die smoke my bones
color me the color of silence and smoke my dry bones
metal face does not rust

one is used to dance
one is used to run
to push very very far away
2 whole years pining
pushing people very very far away

leave hair in my sink please
surrounded by tall walls
chrismas is purple
so im told
i wouldnt know

color blind pink slime writhing
she's there
shes there right now
a ghost isn't a window
a ghost is a door
dust in my eye
my ears
my arms
bring me some fast feet

how many times did you open that door?
how many times did you leave it open?
open stars
brain hard
a boy wonders
peace died

you didnt expect men to give you respect so you stole it
throw yourself at them
i wish we could escape
inside voices ladies and gentleman
inside thoughts

tonight is really hot
better off hiding forever
learn to hide better
slowly past the hand of a broken clock
wait for it
wait for it

voice can you just try to speak?
the weight finally burned a hole in my head
rain tree look tired
big man looks afraid
pink slime shines
shines like a diamond in the fog
a fog of beer

shadows of the subway cars
while you were out two hours came by and sat in that very chair you are sitting in now
they tried to wait for you
but the room started turning into a dream of pink slime

stand back i got a question to ask
it needs to be answered
how heavy was that weight?
the one that put the hole in your head
the light from a million burned out stars
how bright?

dank breath after you smoke my bones
high fruit flame and vegan ice cream
near simple
near divine

theyre called reasons and you have none
know chaos
know a tall latte
father save me
in the name of the father i am not worthy
these woods are easy to cross by foot
in the name of the father the son and the holy slime ghost writhing

what is normal?
what is constant?
more answers are needed
thoughts speak up
spring is constant
saints lead away snakes from my path
i took an oath to this forest
an easy path
a velvet nest
a shot of tequila
bring gifts to a suffering woman
i am yellow
i am a lonesome fly stuck
do a bump
i am an animal
i am glowing flowing pink slime rising
arms reaching
do another bump
legs carry me far
eyes please see color
mother in the sky truth wondering
Blundering
Fumbling for something
Black eyes gazing
into the hazing fog
built up by the pink slime rising
amen

I've been getting up to watch the local traffic patterns. I have a big plan to improve the traffic around town. It's appalling people have trouble getting around i swear. I'm going to turn this plan over to the highway department at the end of the month. it will revolutionize things. Its all just slow moving traffic creeping through town. Turn left turn right or go straight. Lots of cars. when my father lived here Main Street was one way and there were still trolleys that went up the street that took you to church on sunday morning. You still get the feeling that all the streets meet at the same place but too many people are going there and no one is going to church. The point is most days come and go with no more significance than the morning coffee or pieces of paper blowing in the breeze getting caught in storm drains soaking with ***** water and falling to pieces. On this day however or night I should say something changed in me. It was a grey saturday in early spring and I was drowsy at the park on a lone bench after having read the local paper. It was election season so it was all about the candidates. Johnson supports this while Crenshaw starkly opposes the same measure. It was boring to say the least. I had fallen asleep and woken up about 4 o clock and found my paper to be missing. Some passer by had probably picked it up thinking i was through with it. And I suppose i was through with it. I did find a bit of humor in it remembering how i had drawn over several of the politicians faces. A mustache on him devil horns on her. It was something to pass the time i guess. I decided i had nothing better to do so i closed my eyes and fell back asleep. Only waking after the sun had disappeared from the horizon and the moon graced the sky with her presence. I suppose I will walk home now i said to myself.   Standing in the pale moon light with her beams comin down to the left and an airplane flying on my right. For a moment i imagined them smashing together in a cloud of moon dust and jet fuel throwing off tides and sending the earth careening off into space but i knew they wouldn't. I see a bench in the distance and i make my way over as i found i was not quite ready to find my way home after all. A lonely newspaper holds the seat for me and i briefly pick it up checking to see if it was mine from earlier. too much of a coincidence i suppose but still i checked. I set it aside and place my hands over my face and breathe hot air to warm myself up. The ticking of my watch seems to keep a rhythm with the passing cars and gently falling rain that wets the tops of my shoes and it all slowly blurs into a whirling blue and when i open my eyes im at the foot of your bed and i find myself saying "When i lay down to sleep beneath the tree i dream of blue water because my river speaks to me she comes and goes she ebbs and flows like the winter spring summer and fall i am a sinner but i sing to pierce the fog do you hear my call? do you hear my voice carry through this cave filled with rags and ***** cards? Do you ever come out here at night to see the stars?" Who am i talking too? "In the early morning before the sun when the snow falls with just the right weight to cap the dark stone along your wall and pile up like lazy cats on a fence. I think of you." Ive never owned a cat i dont know if im afraid of them. snakes and cats are demons to be worshipped revered and feared. Again i find myself saying "I would try to escape the dull light but Her has big eyes and dark hair. her is in love with an island and a feeling. Mine is still afraid of an island but it still occupies mines thoughts" how strange a feeling but its warm here so i stay for awhile longer. "And the look in your eyes when you speak of your wife in germany can make tired dry men cry violent blue tears." Upset by what i had said in my dream i will myself out of it and find myself on the bench with the newspaper beside me. It is the day after valentines day.  Thoughts return to yesterday and a feeling of deja vous comes over me. Had i been here yesterday? No I spent valentines day in the city with the bike rental guys and pepsi not really knowing what it meant to me. One bike rental guy i spoke with at length had a sad reply to a comment i made about how much i enjoyed his conversation and i said truly you are a good man. He said "truthfully, all my talent and tact i make up for it with what i lack. Im jealous and competitive but id rather step aside than talk about my pride and ill hide behind my wine." A sad and haunting verse as it rings in my head tonight on this bench with the old newspaper. I get up to finish my walk home.

pick and choose and prioritize
you have one hundred different kinds of days to live
about 30,000 chances to repeat them
where does your heart live
in the depths?
or in the stars?

he said:

"you gotta hit it hard in the guts, blood and thunder and all like"

life is fraught with peril
like a foreign film without subtitles
you choose how it ends
the subtleties
the inconsistencies
the balance of here and there
the cliche duality of life
good and evil
god and devil
now or never

      he rolled 13 cigarettes
      took one glass of whisky
      stepped 3 times down the stairs
      walked 3 miles down the street
      and fell 6 million times in the dark

i was born like a tree
arms raised like branches
growing through my chest
leaves falling all around me
naked in the winter
clothed in the summer
roots go deep
no time to sleep
come here and flow up my xylem
lay in my phloem
my chlorophyl will fill you up
my sap is like wine
stay drunk all the time

you me and alcohol makes three
and all things that we considered to be bad before makes four
or five if you count that one time
wait never mind
and we consume every other day so we aren't alcoholics or addicts so to say
and it has been a long time consuming these things that bring us down to even us out
maybe a week or two into the new year it was unclear what it was about
even more unclear now with reasonable doubt
but maybe we are in the same boat from a different town  
travel down very different roads but a similar route
to escape from the cold to find heat in hot air
from the sky or from a guy or a girl or from the world
because the ground is hot underneath dig deep
reach for that part at the bottom in the corner behind old spent matches and cigarette butts
to find what was buried when you were first afraid to sleep alone
because your mind is a throne and your body a temple
remember I respect I entirely
never forget that you own your own soul and steer it where you want it to go
never forget that I respect you
and truthfully
do what you will
spill the milk
you create the bed upon which your value and worth rest
I am an outsider only a guest
I can sing your song
for short or for long
you decide which is for the best

hard pressed to find something better
ive been fighting these demons for years
they know me by name
they send me christmas cards and ask about my family
its december and im still dealing with the excesses of summer
4 months later
carrying a cumbersome load
of these figures and forms i took on
some of their names scars upon my skin
others simply grease between my gears rolling on
and its the latter that really are the holy
i feel i am chained to them
like he was to his gun
frozen to fear but feeling the wind at his back he moves after a year
or two
or three

oh silent night
oh loud ******* smashing crashing thunderous night of silence
come now
fast and furious
and leave something in your trail
a thousand snowflakes falling fast to freeze the summer

and I'm curious
are you beckoned by some secret call?
or is your arrival preceded by your own free will
it is of little consequence

this time I ask you to please leave something sweet
I implore you to ignore your spiteful resentment of all things young and springlike
and deliver some sort of hope this winter
no more crushing confusion
and mistakes mistook for progress

I ask you to step aside for one season
and let the air cool itself as it draws across the empty boughs of the birch and oak
let it feel the lonesome space around the branches
and in response it will pull all of its moisture together to bleach the bone of this earth
it will go through the throws and tantrums
storms and winds to change the landscape
it doesn't need you

also please do not drive away the birds of summer
simply let them leave on their own accord
when the air feels it is time for an empty sky it will pressure its priests to move on
they don't need your crushing force

let the wheels of this earth slowly come to a halt at the right time
don't force them to turn at your command
what is natural is natural
and what will happen will happen
I beg you to please step aside this season

be confident in autumn to set up what you so vigorously enforce
just nap for awhile
go with the bear and come back in spring
or better yet go with a brood of cicada and come back in a few years
we can keep up the work in your name
you will emerge with a better reputation and a rested mind


maybe you will take a different stance
maybe you will feel less obliged to follow this tradition
maybe you will find that inside of you lay an invincible summer

tell me why its hard for me to live out my own philosophy?
Im plagued by hypocrisy
this is not how how I was meant to be
this is not what I tried to be
this is not me

you say keep on keeping on
bounce in my step singing a song?
I wish
be happy?
relate to where Im coming from you *******
again Im sorry but this is not me

let me explain:
a scratch on my lens distorts all that I see
each mental note I take
is written on damp moldy paper that
I try to dry by the heat of the fire but
it gets lost to the flames
and I sustain my condition
and lay in the same position
for days on end. there is no end
to this meager attempt
at finding a loop hole to jump through
and even if one opened up Im still on the fence
if Id be better off on the other side
because I fear what comes next but
hopes are that it will cleanse.
and as I push through to you
listening to the humming of my tired seamstress
ready to finish weaving
what it took my lifetime to fray

Im haunted by the image
of the last fragile thread
taught and broken
sending me down down
down
arms reaching
for your familiar face
with that familiar look
of dismay

he fought men strong
he believed the earth shone brighter than the moon dull  
he loved to carry her  in his hands  
he was tired but strong like the sun  
like man falling through and not getting back up

DRIVE  AWAY 
                                             THOUGHTS:
                                ROUGH ROADS
                                          KNOWING
                                              HOLDING
                                                    OPEN
                                                       CALLS
                                              MAKE  TURN:
                                                      LIGHT 
                                                       LIKE
                                                        SPRING  
                                                         BIRDS

I've been thinking about you a lot lately.
its hard to breathe and think these days and nights
turning into tired mornings.
rolling over
wishing away the bright light that falls through my open curtains.

the street calls for me.
my pen calls my name.
asking me to write down short words
about shorter roads that led me to dead ends.
long lost in memories of years past.
I have forgotten them.
they are no longer part of me.

because roads i travel on now
are hard and rough
like calluses on the hands of cattle drivers
through cold mountain passages in early spring.
holding tight to ropes and reigns
knowing all they can do is wake up and ride again
because that is how they live.

they breathe like fire from the depths,
melting the frost off of their mustaches and beards
like icicles on the eves of  your house.
like scars on his chest.
like leaves on trees i climbed as a child
they fall down to the ground and turn to earthly dust.
like birds in the sky in late july

when the wind is right I can smell your perfume.
the sweet scent of you dreaming at night drifts to my open window 12 miles away
and I live near the bay but the smell of salt does not drive it away
it pushes me closer to the thought of laying in an open field holding you gently

and today the trees start to turn an awkward green
before eventually burning seceding into blazing glory orange
heat like red fire
like phoenix into flames.
all the other birds have gone away
seeking a warmer place.
daylight is short but it remains
and it is enough to light the way
down another rough road waiting for may.
but once winter grey and white takes hold and takes flight,
day claims back what was stolen by night.
then comes spring chasing the grating dragging ice frozen pain
it goes away
and glory and hope become engrained in my brain
and these birds they come back
new strength to carry on.
pushing through to make new buds to form the green wings for nests to rest
and make love and make do and produce
and take flight once more to heights
thought not possible before.
yes it passes all is transient
everything massive
everything trivial
because menial tasks drive me and you insane
but you cant be away when i need you the most.
like now when im breathing so deep
and i just want to speak to you.
heart racing and thinking about facing away from tomorrow
because today feels like im so far away from you.
ok i know how to send signals of disgust and dismay
but i want to connect to the ethereal plane inside of your brain
and mind and soul and touch where you hold
everything out so true and so plainly.
because it is plain for me to see
that i cant seem to get rid of the thought of you knowing more than my name.
we could make brighter days
and nights that we can light
with our combined fire
that can burn brighter
than either of us can produce
with all of our might.

lay down your arms at the foot of her bed
lay down your arms at the foot of great monuments to her war
where you have awoken amidst the ferns in that deathly hour

and let her strong masculine hands lead you to a place
where your fears are mounted on the blackest of stallions
driven by the most unholy of demons
and let her lay bear your chest
skin thick with scars from old attempts at immortality
scrape the meat to show the place where your weaknesses hide
shrouded in dry, cracked, velvet steel
stained from your acid tears that fall down your tired face

and as she whispers to you the alms of renewal
let your mind embrace the scent of her breath
and forget her lust
and forget the fear
and forget the death and regret that you have made part of you
release it through your flesh as each fragile layer comes peeling off like dead petals in the heat

I loved a man.
he had strong hands, he would carry me, but
he's tired now.
I loved a man.
he had golden skin that shone like the sun, but
it's dull now.
I loved a man.
he fought for what he believed in, but
now what he believed in is falling to pieces.
I loved a man, but
he's falling to pieces.

AND I FEEL THE COLD COMING ON.
been too hot for too long,
feeling too nice,
it feels wrong.

cause i feel used
and bruised
and confused.

and the great expectations turn to feelings that came and went,
too fast, too soon.
drop them in the water and watch them drift off to the moon.
watch them drift into the hands of some desperate sailor,
he was reaching for the stars, but accepted an inferior form who held you and squeezed you so ******* fast that you missed her name, but you know her past.

desperate to please her, desperate not to fail her,

but little does he know that the weight he keeps on his hope will drown him in shallow waters.
and he will drown in her shallow waters
and he will drown in her shallow waters.

yea I've seen a few men drown in her shallow waters.
I've seen their love taken for granted,
held up high among the stars,
but dropped down among the inferior forms that ensnare desperate lovers looking for affection at low heights, accepting inferior forms on late nights
leading to short days.
taking away what you have saved away and left alone to sit and wait until the next lonely desperate wind blows her your way.
blows your arms wide open and your mind astray as her siren call keeps you excited in dismay
that something so beautiful could love you and hold you so ******* fast.
it hit you so ******* fast,
hit you with the weight of a train
like a bullet through your brain.
you might as well be dead because before she leaves,
your life she will drain,
your hope and love she will maim.
because inside her heart is an empty box that does contain love and trust,
it is a vacuum void that destroys anything light and free and strangles it into ******* dust

and thinking back on it,
what the **** do I do?
its broken,
shattered.
yes, take this as a token of my appreciation.
I don't know if any of this mattered,

but it felt nice drifting away at night to your heart beat with your breath across my bare chest with the moonlight from my window casting a pale shadow on your beautiful breast.
yea I felt pretty safe,
warm,
protected.
preserved in a moment that I carried with me a few days after those hours we spent,
after those precious ounces of my soul you swallowed and spent,
after we ****** in my bed and after you gave me head, it was all nice,
it was all nice and I think I did love you,
at night in the pale light from the moon in my room.
on my chair a piece of your hair I found a few months later and I sighed and thought of you.
I wondered what you were doing at that exact moment in time.
wondering if you ever found my shirt in your car.
wondering if you knew it was mine.
hoping that you still put it on from time to time to pretend that I was holding you,
cause it was all nice.
it was all nice.
it was all nice.

when the black cat crosses your path just to spite you
and when he crosses back again to excite you.
and when the sky breaks and falls down upon you,
it drips down to the street the ground it flows through.
and theres a hornets nest outside your door
and you fear leavin' home,
you cant endure anymore poison stings upon your skin.

and years later lyin' in your bed,
you cough and sputter;
old heart beatin' in your chest,
but it might as well be in the gutter.
and when you raise up with all you got,
but your legs give way they have succumb to rot.
when your eyes have grown white and weak
and they have to strain to see who speaks.
and when your hands are shakin' like a jack hammer quakin'

and finally you feel your mind bend and breakin'
the heavy sound is like the metal scrape of a rake.
you knew you would die soon,
but you didn't think it would take
all but ten minutes to finally feel the freedom you held in your bones.
and all your life you've been destroying your body to build a throne,
upon which to lay down the soul that you kept locked inside.
whether it be fear or pride,
the point is you never lived your life like a thousand rays of sunshine fell on your windowsill.

and you cried for the release of what was inside,
but it wasn't a cry of joy,
it was short dry and shrill
like a drill cutting through an anvil.
and finally the rattle breaks through the last of your bones
when gently you fall and out of your body flown
your vigin soul to rest on your throne

Ive still got your hands locked around my throat like a noose and its cold
cold as summer rain when spring breaks
there is still frost up in the mountains for gods sake
and when i hear you sing its like whatever heaven is supposed to be breaks
and holds me in its celestial proverbial arms and rocks me gently
when you sing the vibrations shake my soul and resonate deeply and completely
and you let all your vocal chords ring out in beautiful chords
that i try to play on my guitar but they always sound flat
and this old hat that i wear on my head seems to travel more than i will
as its been to brazil and i thank roger for that
but i digress cause the point is to say
when you sing it brings me to a place i only dream
and it seems that with each breath you take
it makes my heart quiver and shake and break into a thousand pieces
but it only takes a crescendo to bring it back together so please sing for me baby
i know your register better than you do so please sing for me baby
when im old and grey and beatdown and blue i will remember you
i will remember you as one thousand melodies carrying through the trees
i will remember every word you said to me but I will remember them as a song
blowing down the streets on cold winter mornings and hot summer days
through the hallways and alleyways
on the highways and freeways
syncopating with the hum of my tired engine
running on fumes and memories of afternoons and evenings listening to you sing
so before you go one last encore
one last song to ease me into my cosmic core
as i lay on the shore of the great south bay
like it was on the first day and like it will be on this the last
sing me something slow but with fast parts that catch me off guard
like the first time I heard the pixies in my bestfriends backyard
something that will send chills down my spine and relax my mind
to solidify this truth that to me is self evident
as my energy is spent i need to hear you sing your song
in this place that was always tuned to so different a key
please sing for me baby
please just sing for me baby