When electricity turns itself loose
to bounce in and out
of the pockets
in the mind

turn on a light
and channel that ****
towards the greater good
of illumination

It’s amazing really,
The power of a thought.
Like an invisible typewriter it clicks
On and off it’s seasoned keys.
Like coding our daily existence into
A bubble in our brains.
Thoughts seem to spring
From an unknown source,
In search of the ocean to pour themselves into.
The ocean of our reality.
The waves of memories,
The horizon of future plays in our heads
Like some distant song we have yet to hear.
But what are the depths of this ocean?
the great mysteries of life,
So often pondered,
Yet seldom explored.
Does it take a bold mind for brilliance to swim in it’s currents?
Or perhaps a deep ocean flows and breaks in the minds of all,
Whether we are aware or not.
Are we all within our own ocean?
Or do we all swim in the currents of a giant sea,
Full of turmoil,
Yet pregnant with traversing tranquility.
The collection of our thoughts are sprinkled
Like seasoning time.
Through drops of paint shine the colors of everything we see.
And who is seeing?
Is it you?
Are you, under the mask of “I” or “me,”
All knowing of the possibilities of yourself?
Or is there someone else lurking in the shadows of your mind?
The real observer…

The wind escapes
Through a forgotten lunchbox
Like a child
Leaving their toys in the grass
But I looked closer
They were two dying baby rats
One was still quivering
it pierced my chest
To breathe a rat’s last breath
what did he speak of?
Nothing
Because now he is gone
Like my childhood
Swimming through memories
Of long forgotten promises
Of rotting baby rats

Back to the first side of things
Where the water trickles down
To the bottom of your feet dragging
Lagging computer screens
Abandoning last years dreams
To take a whole new trek across
The plains as a seed
Flying on the wind and battling
Oxygenated monsters screaming
Bombing for breathing
The hold of a dead pigeon’s wingspan
Folding blankets of freshly knit
Secretive ****

We were over indulged
To the point of tipping over
Our economies buldged
Till they burst a trickling odor
We were all just inside
Forgetting life without strides
Perhaps we’re all just
Loosing our minds

Back to the first side of things
Where my ring-worms congratulate
My acceptance as a janitor
In a seven story basement

Is such a cliché line
Yet it rolls off the tongue
Like stamp on tattoos
Dragging your eyes
Like they are tethered
As blossoms
To the sun

A blank page is
disturbed by the
gentle pressing of
a slippery, hard
projection of
ebony salivating needles,
unstitching the
molasses fibers of such
a grief stricken rag doll,
collecting dust in the corner,
eyes crafted in the heart of
a million years worth of
rivers slicing pen lines
across the face of the earth,
crumbling each sheet of
plastered chrysalis streamers
exposing the unwritten words
beneath

The thoughts in our minds
are like shards of
glass reflecting light.
Pieces of something once complete
that has since exploded and
spiraled off into the cosmos,
and we rearrange them to craft some
sort of image for ourselves,
some sort of reality.
Which is why I like to blow my mind,
so instead of broken glass it turns
into glass art.
Lets blow our minds and see what happens!!

-Chaotic Melodic

I read a line of scribbled spit nickels
Down the front of your shirt
You pressed a sheet of purple glue
Upon your eyelids
So when you wake up
The sky glows merry
And the trees blow cherry blossom
Daggers in your mouth

The bees **** in your ears
The silence swims in centuries
Your pores are hidden caves
Through which the red sea tide escapes from
Down the river
It flows like spilling
A bucket of butter soaked
Fingers frying on telephone cables

Let’s be so close that we are hideous
I don’t blink enough
to miss the way your eyes looked like half squeezed limes
blond knuckled
teenagers loving their thighs
under the rusty playground slides

I tripped on broken windowpanes
To laugh until my lungs broke through
My temple of loose ***** xylophones
Crickets co-wrote my backyard requiem
My ears were sauce packets
Filled with broken glass microphones
Fast food pottery

Yogurt stains swing dance when I close my eyes
The chalk tastes like baby blankets
Horseradish carpenters bleed bitter pellet gun lubricants
I hung fifteen different shades of mustard yellow
So that I couldn’t hear your sandpaper cackle

Only your cousin’s frigid toaster
Can understand me

I rearrange the shards of
Smiles and slivers of truth
That collide like broken waves
On the shores of my eyes
Like fragrant words of folly
As if to tickle the open ears
Like teardrops in a vase
And spokes that spin in wild wonder
Dance as if their lacing fingers
Draw magic from the dust
But I remember
In sane whispers drawl
I haven't lost that which holds the breath sacred
As rising tides of hidden lunar glow
Spark and fly from their embers
Our fear
In restless highs slide toes out from
Under the star shine
Curiously sweet yet sickening to swallow
Our tongues burned of what we could not speak clearly enough
For the stirring ashes we thought were as corpses
beat rhythms once again
And I couldn't hold you long enough
But still I released and hoped you would return
And you did
Carefully melodic at first
Yet hopelessly chaotic as we laid
-Cory James McQueen

Keep packing the sand
grains deep in my brain,
back it up and prepare
for war, cancer climbs
its way down my throat and
nestles in my lungs. Choke me
with your flypaper ideas and rip
off the collected dust on my face.
Abstract art, cigarette love.
Illusions and spiky throats can't
talk or communicate effectively
like a frog with a tongue ring, I
may hook on your lips if you try to kiss
me. sriracha detergent... spin cycle on tremble

The stars are congregating
Soap bubbles in your brain
I’m sorry but you might
Not be used to this terrain
You are driving through tunnels
Like boiled blood through a funnel
That you poured in the drain
I’ve seen a lot of people swear
That they were just unaware
Even though I saw the truth glaring
They’re pupils they stared
Through which I travel through dimensions
Like an interstate freeway
Dragging my heels on the space time
Grape vine state slide
Into a lick of diethylamide
An eyedropper of sorts
Through which the ego aborts
And spills a gallon of lies
A pool of despising cries
For some new pair of eyes
Thankful I’m still breathing smog
As if to clog up my thoughts
And stick a cork in the skies
The clouds are congregating
Like two puppets debating
To settle on another bucket
Of prefabricated rain
As thick as beauty magazines
Thinner than thighs of her dreams
Longer than love till she creams
Screaming and kicking in pain
Believing Christ is a savior
But he’s just last month’s flavor
An old stale life saver
It’s time to move on
From the shackles of becoming
A statistical input of population running
Carbon copy photos of shunning
The same solutions that arise
When we’ve burned down the sky
Will we have time to deny
Another child a life
To bury sunlight with strife
And settle off in the distance
Constructing walls of resistance
To the change that we’re riding on
Life that we’re gliding
And sliding three dimensional thoughts
Like time we we’re biding
Playing cards for a new way
to slowly decay
but I’m through with the new car
aggression and corner bar
depression and desperate
obsession to drool over movie stars
I’m out of the toll booth
And riding on rails
Of universal entrails
I follow loops in the same **** series
Of loose nails
Pulling a man apart
And attempting to reignite his heart
But my words are just seeds
Falling like ash in the breeze
And they land in your soil
And it’s up to your hands
To follow up with the toil
Of trading oil for light
Creating words out of sight
Lighting candles for the journey
As we enter the plight
There’s not a reason to fight
Just sit back and light up
A joint and call it a night

I put myself through scratchy throats
And eye drying crimson nights
For a promise

But I'm not doing what I love
I'm loading pressure on my
Weak spots constantly and
Hoping with wandering glances
That I'll catch gold in the wind
With my lashes beant down

With my lips curled into half hearted sneers I wish this
Hollow mask would fade slowly
To reveal
Walking on all fours with
My mouth open to catch your spit
Fun nights of tickling to the last
Dying breath, I'd
Slide ******* to hush your words
And drink up your gasps I would
Rip my tongue on your
Flypaper if you laid it open

If you wished it, your dreams could
Enslave me so
I'd bend back until my spine felt dizzy
But you wouldn't know that
My laughter would be biting back
My blood from its boiling point
I would wait, and in goosebumps pray for
Release

I feel
Every bodies pain
Through the way the hold their mortal dolls
Closed tightly from the world
Their words, as sweaters to contain
Their misery it ferments slowly
The wishes that they left unkempt and growing wild from
Dead innocence, their seeds
Crawling blossoms from the dirt
Catch my fingers sliced open
As they linger to prune

I'd flounder for the night your
Fireflies would glow
Dimly from tired eyes
That peeled the day back
From lovers you watched
Spitting as if to
Bleed yourself back into the ground

I'll wait
As widows to the wind
I'd call and hope for the stars to answer in your name
For you wandered through millennia
To face this
Time of quivering fevers breaking
sweat storms
Of pouring glasses full of
Last years abandoned daydreams
That curdle as we hesitate
To drink them
For a moment where our lives seemed
Less real
And we hunger
For a glance that would wash clear
The smog of our confusion
And tie the tattered ploys of our
Restless youth to the stars

I'd steer them so you could sleep
If only you needed me to

Steel vultures dancing
back and forth,
licking each others talons,
snip sensually
the stubborn coils of
glassy illusionist thoughts
that have threaded,
spilling from the helm.

When we were
in love
the days passed like
kidney stones through
the telephone wires

Emotions are like oceans.
The suffering we feel is not just our own,
but a splash of what
our species has suffered
since we awoke.
But so is the love and laughter as well.
When we express what we feel,
we draw from these currents and tides
that have always existed and will always exist.
So what do you want to draw?
Doesn't matter if you don't know how or
nobody ever told you..
How beautiful you are..
How strong your heart is as it drums on within you..

-Chaotic Melodic

Faith is like breathing.
You can rest assured that
no matter what you are doing,
your lungs will keep on
drinking the air and
carrying oxygen through your blood and to
every last vestige in your body.
Give up trying to control it,
as it will do as it pleases
regardless
of your attempts to slowly **** yourself or
extinguish all ambiguity and randomness
in the world around you.
Control out of chaos?
Your eyes waking up in the morning is chaos.
Each lash bending
slightly in proportion
to every other lash it is connected too.
We are like plants,
where our roots interconnect and
stretch back further than
recorded history to a time where
we planted the seeds
in fear
that our family would splinter and
mutate into a massive **** of
imaginative constructs like
nations and creeds
which we knit so tediously into
every new idea or situation that attracts itself to us.
Like mirrors to the world,
our eyes only reflect
what they have been shown.
Both in distorted waves of fantasia and
in clear pictures and representations of
our fragmented pasts.
Our memories are jigsaws,
putting them together only to realize
that the reward looks nothing like
the picture we thought we were building for ourselves.
No matter how dark and dismal some pieces may appear
they are only there to keep us from
going blind in the light.

Like coral reefs dancing
with the curl of the tides,
you are always changing..
ever growing.
And sharp with your freedom
I feared that you would drown me
but your waves were playful
and dressed with sunset
scarlet whispers
unspoken,
quick glances
of flame thrown
recklessly from your eyes,
those waving embers,
Oh the sweetness in their burn.
They beg for strokes as soft
as sunrise
and lips as lingering as the breeze.

Hailey girl,
your mind unfurls like
rose petals to bloom.
Forgotten earth,
your seeds are ready
to fly free and burst.
Their seams are clenching tightly
as teeth when tears are stifled,
sensitive to strife.
Hailey girl,
you're precious as
a seashore's curl,
in which to splash your hands about.
They're cold
from your parents distant words.
Just let them trickle out...

The more my bedroom blinds bend back time
Until splashes of sun cut through my eyelids,
the more I try to snap the support beams
that hold the rigid dam in place.
I try to drink up words
that catch my tongue dancing
in the shower through the pinholes.
He can’t hide himself much longer
under the pile of the grass clippings.
Although he played with dead rats
by the train tracks as a boy,
he found no gold inside their bellies.
Their eyes were ink wells
Fresh for the picking

Why is it hard sometimes,
feeling so different and so
capable
yet your lips barely speak above a whisper.
Where your spiraling eyes see
through the disguises we play our lives behind.
And yet you hang your head
all the same, as if starlight
wasn't shining from within it all.
Your life,
as broken shards of
smiles trying.
As voices clash and
messages spiral out of sync like
two blades
spiting the screws that hold them tight.
And rust they will,
your eyes if closing them
feels better.
For a bitter taste settles on
tongues that hope to dance
yet barely dare to step
beyond their teeth, they quiver.
And these footsteps that find you
lost amongst the promise
of empty bottles you have found.
I wish to hear them,
your hidden breaths from under
what slender cheeks you turn,
to the ground.
From what pages your
lashes spark
and spring from as the world
whispers wonders in your ear.
The trickling words
that tickle you
to smile.

If you
only
*******
knew...

I speak in faded blasts of wind
Too dull like screaming to the deaf
Where energy can speak for itself
But you can’t hear me
Even if you put your ears to the street
You can’t hear me
I’m trying to find somehow
What’s keeping me inside my hollowed trunk
The lightning struck it years ago
But I am still with patient silent wanderings
My mind can walk ten miles in a few hours
But my body is a frail forgotten piece of how you left it
Can you teach me how to step again?
I’m gray
Stuck within the space between the light melting into shadow
Where the sun skipped yesterday
When yesterday seems like twenty years
Or possibly a melodramatic spindle spinning
Drawing miles of yarn for me to trip on
Fall inside my mind again
That same spinning cycle
Stuck on a leash
Angry like a chained rabid mutt
And who dares to look a little closer
To see my microscopic love
It’s dancing in the wrinkles of my shirt
Every color longing to be spread across my face

The keys, that
Dribbling waxy fingers
Turn, their gritted smiles splice
As peppered silence
Slices through the hours,
Sinking sunlight strikes
Another ashen pair
Of eyes, closed harder
Than doors on tipsy tongues,
Painted lips
Peeling cracked whispers,
Since open woos,
Seethe rapturously
Throughout the widowed house,
Her violent shudders
Rake my ears
And aching for clenched nails
I turn
The keys, the
Greasy lock
Is deep, yet her eyes are deeper,
Hallowing my gaze
And spitting back swallowed wishes,
Sweetening flusters that tease
Wildly she smiles,
And snatched by the hook
Writhing upwards we arch,
Toes curled and eyes squinting
As the door burst open
And the light fluttered in.

Withered friends blend
Starshines and midnight coke lines
For the morning we will part
And with spiky hearts we cry
For the day we met was
Hazy and lazy hands traced
Jet glazes across the sky
And we were two half moon eyes
That trembled to ask
What a broken rope could tie
So high in fact
That we spat gently on ants
Crawling thirsty on our scattered pants
And I rhymed to tickle you
But your mind was fickle
And the words splashed as low tides
Crashed down upon the glass
We smoked, too bitter laughs
In search of why our jokes
Seemed to strangle
Entangled lips that strive
To lock the silent hips
We rocked
And rolled as if only through spliffs
We could smile
And all the while the wind
Whispered somber notes
That choked us till
We broke our eyes
The flood of ****** needles
We raked through the hay
To find
Each other withering through time
And never bothered
To ask each other why

-Chaotic Melodic

Tear out my eyes
repainting them shades of purple puke
and send me off back to work
Snip the curious child
from my gut
and paint the walls pink with his feet
pour drano into my ears
so that i may not have to think anymore
lobotomize my fingernail biting fetishes
till i only get hard-on's from my skull
dragging its skin across the pavement
you pitiful excuse for a poet
you hope to dazzle them with dayglo frosting
caked like mold in the corners of your mouth
you sick hopeless perfectionist
knitting cellophane walls
of hands slapping your face
so you can close your eyes
and lose yourself in the confines
of your stalagmites
you with your cut and paste philosophies
which leave gaping holes
stretching across everybody's pupils
huh?
exactly you ******* pustule of plastic bubbles
you are an empty bud
no flower could rise from soil as rank as yours
no love will ever find comfort in a heart as prickly as yours
i can only be ashamed
that i share your body
i'm better off getting aborted
next time you sneeze
so that i could infect another's fragile flesh
passing our sick parasite
at least something of yours will be left
for others to cherish

Dive in my friend!
A wave caresses each valley on your skin,
Filling up your holes with foggy recollections,
A time long forgotten in the weathered banks of your memory.
The illusion of past has deposited sand within your eyes.
At the bottom of the ocean you might remain
Unclog those fallacious fables that have kept
Your arms glued to your sides.
Wipe the sand away!
Like a new breathe each moment..
The past is non-existent,
But merely miles of ink dragged over a circle on crumbling white paper.
Dive in my friend!
To the black hole of scribbled words,
The waterfall of your mind’s momentum
Refilling the barren wasteland with floods of color,
Through expression sings the transparent song of the soul,
In a single note,
In a single moment,
Everlasting ecstasy.
The infinite exist without a need for mouths to speak.
The eternal exist without a need for ears to hear.
For the truth wills itself a way to rest like precious stones
In the deep rivers of our bloodstream,
Just waiting to be stirred and awakened by the passion of love.

Allowing the energy that
Pulses through the universe
To flow
Without effort
And allow its messages of love to be
Captured by your receptors like a radio
So that
You can transmit the love further
Compile and compress into language
The love that speaks
So queer without words
So that you can whisper them into the sleepwalkers ears
And hopefully rouse them gently
Like removing the blindfold
And releasing the music from mute
Open up the senses, both physical and intuitive
By turning down the restless mind
Mute the channel of thought so that
You can introduce harmonic resonances into the framework
Mixing and blending samples of love tones
Helping others get in touch with the rhythms
And beats of the divine
And by helping then get in touch
You can turn on channels within them
That they have yet to discover
Channels that are programmed within us
For that exact purpose
For us to unlock the dams that
Prevent the flow of love frequencies
To electrify us
And dissolve isolation

-Chaotic Melodic

Be still,
not quaking..
These insistent
drums
that bleat
and bleed out
these nervous
clock floggings,
beating their orphaned
shaking fists
against your ribs.
(Manic marimbas)
Insufferable
electric
wind chimes
plucked by
cricket fingers,
chipped to their
clinking joints,
to a st-st-stuttering collapse.
Each second,
a grain of salt
gathers its sour contempt
and slips
unnoticed
from your rusted eyes.

How does it feel?
To shake off
Last year’s feathers
It’s freeing
It’s being like you’ve
Never thought
The water would taste
The clouds they could open your head
And pour in some
Rain water instead
Wash away your bad thoughts
and put them on paper
and paint them on sides
of city buildings
I haven’t seen you before,
you look like a wind has wiped
the skin off your face
I can’t help but
peel you back
exposing the wires that connect
to your brain and inside
of your spine, they slip into
habitual blind ******

Snowy owl with freedom singing in her eyes
She has shaken off a few backwards fitting feathers
Who had worn out their welcome
Now lighter and more free
She is everything she is meant to be
A window to shine out her undying light
The universe speaks through her fingertips
Mothering owl with a smile most comforting
Has hidden the truth beneath her quaking quills
Finding a new sun every day
She is sweeping the dust of her past away
Drained of her milk of misery… she is the purest of cacao
Radiating her rays to all who come across her
Her message is love
Her passion is life
Her heart was never as faint to be feared
Those off-beats of her rhythm
Were lessons to be learned
Blessings as blossoms to ****** her heart from the dark
Exquisite owl with eyes that kiss the daylight
A heart as open as galaxies
A voice as soothing as the breeze
Your hands will heal the world’s disease

The breath,
stifled gasp,
drenched
in morning mist,
she wanders
restlessly into the sky,
where our desperate wishes
burst,
raining hopelessly
into my palms.
If only i had
the patience,
to gather enough
to keep this rose
alive.

Fever tickles your forebrain
Bad thoughts dribble down your nose
Like syrup off my fingertips
Coughing up cheaply made lies
And selling them for the price
Only minimum wage parasites can ****
The propaganda of self pity
Fogging up your vision
Like car windows stained with
Frustrated ******* (or *******)
Sliding straight down your legs
Where your tongue is heavy
Too depressed to form a sentence
Yet thirsty enough to swallow
Thirteen million restless presents
Scrambling around
Clawing their way up the back
Of your throat
Where the sun sets pink
between your teeth

Sleepy eyes of mine
still catch sparkled hair
that whips across your cheeks
and the harder you try to
tame your beauty
it radiates in the sun
No matter how you try to bite
your smile back,
it creeps on
bringing light to
the petals of nearby tulips
dance
You're here
in the cloud scattering breeze
I see
you dropped your purse
and cheeks flushing
reached to grab it
but I beat you to it
Trembling hands brushing your hair instead as
quivering lips whisper "hi"
I don't have a number
because later doesn't exist
and the wind
could crumble us to ashes
if we chose not to speak
but in silent gazes deeper
we grow
as sturdy vines from our hearts
weaving and tangled
as if to asphyxiate from
locked lips and
clamped lashes
so tight as if to never let go
and we wouldn't
if braver blood raced within us
and we'd shed our yesterdays
if not for social graces
and we'd scream our hushed wishes
if not for red cheeks and cop locks
we'd set fire to the square
for it's bursting in our bellies
and longing to escape
and in the shade of summer groves
away from gas stations and
dancing flags
away from peering mothers
and curious children's eyes
our hope
it strikes the tears
to melt
with acid tongues
our discovering the truth
our fingers lacing stories
that we knit to hide our shame
but I want you
bruises on your back and
scars in your eyes
couldn't
scare these hands away
from stroking you gently
if you wanted it

My bitter dishes cry
To be cleaned as they sit
In crusted contempt
With reds that bleed their seething
Lack of clarity
My friends
With smiles half baked and
Eyes shuddering
Sip more and in deeper gulps
Their lives are swallowed
By the brew
But I'm not as lost
As I once thought my mind
In aching desperation fleeted
Angelic drawls to wrap
The dusty shoulders
Keep their hunched secrets heavy
Till they break
And if three breaths could save the world, they may in fact expand
Those minds and hearts to unite
Where shallow thoughts of ego driven
Madness clings like smog upon
Our horizon
But they travel
These dreams of fresher air and
To the forests of the northwestern
Drizzle drenched streets they wander
We're not so hopeless as if to rot
In the shoes we bought last year
I'd rather beg to smile
Then wrap myself in the scowls of
Empty presidents that died for sorrows they began

The mold you breathe in
Grabs your roots and invades your curtains
But you are still here
And though your mind wanders miles
Unraveling
Your body it trembles with unseen
Genius smiles
The gaps in your teeth scream
For truth
In their finger curls
You've got it
And it glows
Humming patiently
In those hollow recesses of your
Self-contempt
Begging those shallow breaths
To deepen and unfurl
Where hopeful racing heartbeats
**** the dark and empty coves
Licked by moonrises
And soothed by the tides

So sweet
It’s a lie
It’s sour, salty
And bitter
Like water
With bacon grease
Bubbling to the top
They expect her to swallow
With a smile on her face
The way she swallows
Her sadness
Letting it coat her intestines
The blockages
Embryonic emotions
In hibernation
As warrants
For soul arrest

Oh sunrise with your flushed cheeks
Wash over me
For the night was long
And as rustling
Breezes whisper through the trees
I breathe you in

You are stunning in your rapturous escape
from the prison that's kept you
picking at your scabs for company.
You are sweetly smiling
as you nibble through the walls that,
stained with blood,
contained the smoldering embers within.
Oh fresh breath, upon your face,
it gives life to what you thought
was lifeless.

The one that became many,
as if by smashing itself to understand
just what it's made of.
We are shards of that light,
trembling as peculiar flickers.
May the darkness in space be
a blank slate for you to shine and build within.
We as pieces,
when we look deeply realize
we are made up on the same patterns that
scatter endlessly in the cosmos.
Fractal art we are!

-Chaotic Melodic

As the seats fill up behind me
A familiar prickling
Climbs its way behind my ears
Vines with cracked shells
Coughing up the last vestiges
Of salt water
Nostalgia for the moment before birth
That strangling itch
Where your arms are locked
And kept from scratching
Holding your breath
For fear of knocking the dominos over
One by one
Stolen steel pilgrims flash the streets
Exposing their gears and wires
While your car gets a *******
Oil dripping from the exhaust
Windows sweating
Horns crying out into the night
Closing their eyes
With their hands smothering their faces
Holding their breath
And hoping they die before the crash

And in the moments
where movements of the soul
shift the thoughts and awareness
to the cracks.. to remind
that the mind is crafting this dream,
it interprets the world and in
it's best intention,
it attempts to flatten and compress
the endless data.
Laying the symbols and memes
into stone
and since we operate in a symbolic fashion
it brings comfort to know
that reality can seem so static,
so unchanging
but the cracks...
Oh.. the cracks!
And through the cracks in the street
the seeds sprout wildly into grass
and through the cracks in the sky
the rains burst and wash the sands of
yesterday from our skin
and from the cracks in your throat
the songs of tomorrow shine in resonance
through your voice
and by the cracks in your smile
I'm reminded
of why
I love you so much

-Chaotic Melodic

My hands are ******
from raking the needles out of the hay,
but I found you
(although you were a little damaged)

My mind is a flypaper,
catching the sand
that you rub from your eyes
(your self discovery carves a valley in me)

And its OK for you to
let your snot bubbles
pop on my shirt
(I haven’t washed it in a few days anyways)

I don’t mind if you are vulnerable,
your openness is fresh air
my own tar soaked lungs are envious
(They ****** my words into criminals)

My arms are like old covered wagons
Slapping their rusted skeletons
Left to dry in a mountain’s pass
(but they will still give you shelter if you happen to get lost)

Stroke with burning smoothness,
oh river of unspoken gazes
setting fire upon my eyes.
You simply cascade over me,
(perpetual refreshing slithers)
dripping silently
echoing deeply,
washing the walls of the
dark and trembling
cavern, sliced by ancient memories
fading with the cries of
silent trickling thoughts,
spilling gently at first
but with growing excitement,
splash restlessly and
the haunting agonies that
bite our tongues, hushing to
barely a whisper,
these are the words that
swam in my mind as you
passed with a piercing glance
that unraveled me.

They can ensnare your very sickly self
And feed it nectar of paramount quality
Oh you, so hopelessly caught
Betwixt each dark and dreary thought
I feel for you
For the single mothers who *******
At night once their spawn have tucked their eyes
Oh let me do it for you
Let me wash your feet and
Pluck your eyebrows
And sew new soles to your shoes
Oh poor man without a home to spend his time
Finding comfort in grinding jaws
I will wash your face and
Bleach your smiles till they shine
New reflections
Oh lonely young adults
Who feel as though their
Thoughts grow from the walls
To strangle them
Let me help you free yourself
I will pour paint thinner down your body
And dissolve those tattoos of your past
And drain your eyes
So the ducts may breathe again
And for the superstitious about
With mouths caked with dry old fears
Unspoken,
Unshared,
Let me soothe your hair
As you lay it down on my shoulder
Let me stroke your sides
And whisper with soft consonants in your ear

There are times where I don't have to
carefully construct metaphorical honey glaze
I can just slide my mottled skin from out
of this tagged and tattered shell
and say, "I'm just as thirsty as any of you"
These strange dichotomies, of shyness and openness
hatred of self, and longing to lift the self up to heights
craving peace, yet seeking disorder
If my cells could vote
there would be a recount
and then another
and another
another
perpetually cyclical self-realization.
Such a frustrating way to absorb you,
through the intuitive tunnels
clogged with judgmental plaque
and grimy windows
that only allow flushes of dusty yellow
to emit.
Loneliness bites, yet I seek the wisdom
only blessed by meditation
and introspective psychedelic meanderings.
Lovers split your ribs, yet my eyes quest
endlessly for you.
These strange dichotomies,
pepper and salt my atrophic throat
until I entertain a curious gaze instead.

This is for those of you that are hopelessly addicted to deeper meanings...
Where you examine the steps you take in the day under a microscope to see
the cracks scrambling restlessly up your legs to find your weak spot.
Your **** of aroused curiosity can only be stimulated via
lightning struck snowy powders dripping gently down your throat and tickling your brain-stem
until you laugh at the crows poking their heads in your back pockets.
They burn holes in your suicidal tendencies like kids playing with matches
for the first time behind the shed.
When your **** gets hard from the fire burning too close to your retinas and
enflaming the world as you knew it, charred and raining ash on the dead roses
that you planted and forgot to water.
**** them, these pilgrims of anxiety crawling across your arms like
stranded orphans in the desert, where the nearest well is spiked with adrenaline aged in
a dying cactus.
Wow you are dark tonight..
As if the dandelion seeds you set free flew back and tried to choke you.
Where are the heart tickling epiphanies now?
Sitting out on break and blowing cigarette smoke into nearby passing baby strollers?
I am not expecting you to like this.
I am just a deluded witch doctor dissecting your brains and attempting to pry out the tumors.
Like an excommunicated jedi knight using his mind to strike flint together.
The sparks smile and dance like college kids on ecstasy, not quite realizing that they are drowning in the undertoe.
They revel in the nostalgic numbness.
Only an IV of sweet lime juice can sustain such wilted leeches.
When lacking in vitamins, your skin is a papyrus to bury under the nile, and
watch from the hills as kids of 2100 and later search for WiFi to connect their burnt out forebrains to.
Coughing up several old moth eaten sweaters that you stuffed away
when your new girlfriend came over.
We hide our pasts like kilos under the coca cola shipments, and no matter
how far you ride the rails, the rats still nest and chew apart the cables that
keep the whole train locked together.
And why is it that we secrete our secrets in our sweat, and cover it up with
cheap deodorants?
Our catch-phrases mask the stagnant breath of our restless nature.
Humans, the bugs in our systems trying so hard to shout out to us that we don't really exist.
Thoughts as fragile as smoke could never support our weight if we chose to
colonize the moon and dig for diamonds in her eyes.
We may find that our stain-glassed windows keep out most of the light, while
preaching to keep our eyes closed and heads held close to the ground.
The civilized dances we partake are only nervous ticks of robotic
drones drilled on overtime.
And we think that these words useless, like grains of sand to let trickle out of your hands.
Our words mean nothing!
Even though you might have felt something in the last five minutes as these
black scarabs have peeled away at your comprehension.
You paint pictures with only black and blue and expect
fresh tongues to offer you green and purple instead.
But how can you expect anything other than the bruises you beat into the walls.
Like magnets on strike, you expect the world to just "let it go."
But I'm not about to rely on that weaker force to guide us.
The paths of unprecedented unraveling is where we are heading.
Where gravity is so pre-"concious-cocreation" and the last street light alive
will keep on whispering its salty sentiment.
You and I are not so different, although we profess to keep our distance
and fear too long of eye contact, as if a moment of silent connection
triggers the virus warnings and ***** up your downloads.
****..
All I wanted was a light-hearted comedy and all you had stocked up in your
dvd cabinet was a bunch of black and white ***** films.
You said the dark side makes you appreciate the light, but every night i hear
those last beaten breaths, limping across the dark hallway with their fingertips sliding
quietly along the walls.

Don’t judge yourself too harshly,
For you are the eyelids that are destined to open.
And the ideas that we stand for,
Can never and will never be dissolved.
You are better pressed to question yourself
And question the signatures that bind your paychecks..
Ponder the source of your presidential paper mache.
We are the threads too loosely stitched,
In the suffocating sweater of our society.
But with our death..
Erupts the vibrations of every thread destined to unravel.
We cannot expect to bind sweaters on the masses
As we flow into the summer of our enlightenment..
The traditions of the winter have become obsolete.
They are the leeches of our bones
And the cracks in our skin,
Dividing us as sand in the wind.
Religion is the smoke that chokes our vision,
Money is the virus that cripples our potential,
And to those who would assassinate us..
Money could never protect you as would loyalty..
Politics could never heal you as would understanding..
Power could never bring you happiness as would love..
And death could never bring peace as would embracing life..
So I ask you to ask yourselves,
Would killing us put a stop to our progress?
Would silencing us keep us from ending your crime?
Wouldn't a flower still bloom even though it was destined to die?
Don’t judge yourself too harshly..
Just ask yourself.. would I?

I don’t want to write poetry
I want to bottle the essence of
The vast inner-workings of the universe
And give it to you for free
I don’t charge money for my philosophy
I couldn’t be pushed to look at you
Unless it was deep in your eyes
And swallowing the words you speak
Digesting their meanings and subtle
Ironies
The inconsistencies of your desires and your actions
Are like diamond dust on my tongue
Tears upon realizing your forgotten pain
Fermenting and sloshing around in that
Hidden belly of depth
The intense turmoil, the rapturous escape
Blend them on slow so that I may see
Your blues and reds trace fingerprints of
Purple across the glass
Oh and the times where you forgot
Something important,
And your heart skips a beat and your hair stands
A little
Your face flushes, oh the pinks
And once you find it,
In my arms
I was waiting the whole time
Impatiently at moments
But all the while,
I just longed to drink up your sighs of relief
Your giddy smiles piling joy after joy within me
And those moments where you are about to fall asleep
And you **** awake suddenly,
Your eyes, still distant and dreamy
And the slow release as you lay back down
On my chest
And I don’t care that my arm went numb 15 minutes ago
As long as I don’t disturb you
The things I do for love
Or more like..
The things I do because I love

But I’m still here
No doubt, lonely and without
Any proper ventilation
For my soul is gaseous and restless
My thoughts are emaciated and
And my feelings are callused and unbending
I sometimes, don’t feel anything any more
And that is what I fear,
That I may shrivel, haven’t created even a fraction
Of this dream
This highly unrealistic yet truthful dream in which
Some form of power, even in fibers and threads
Pulls my chin up to gaze in wonder

Where the sherbet from my eyes
makes my cheeks sticky,
but you like to lick them off anyways,
it keeps you from wilting like a
gray rose in the heat