Coffee in a teacup
Hard-boiled egg
Remote control
Squeaky chair leg
And a butterfly pillbox filled with red white and blues

Watch the uninspired TV
And become a pathetic ghost
Excuse me while I implode

I wrote a check to Mother Nature
But it bounced
Strip the city of me
You’ll find nothing to envy

And when I die in my dreams
My eyes become the milky way
My body is a tree
With my mind and heart branching out towards heaven

Waking up feeling as if I were born tired
Missing the on ramp to the free way
lost in the alleys, back tracking

Rebelling against the Universe
I Slap away the open hand
and eschew greener pastures
for a land sewn with salt
I Lick the bitter taste spread across my cracked lips
and dream of loving hot sand
slipping through my fingertips.

I once bottled the wind,
and believed that lightning bugs lasted forever in a jar,
when the luminescence faded,
alone with an empty bottle and a jar,
I popped the tab open to release the wind,
a peacock feather flew from my brim,
away into the unknown.

I stared into the jar
and saw knives piercing hearts
My own heart began to bleed
one hundred barrels of boiling quicksilver
bathed in ache
contaminating my chest

exposed, naked in front of a mirror,
I took off my mask and stared into black shadow holes,
I held out my arms for 11 minutes,
index fingers pointing to Jupiter
raged with a primal yell and saw
the animal inside my face,
alive, quaking red,
a bulging flesh emersion of veins and teeth,
and shiny eyes that see into the night
breaking the bonds that tattoo our souls
Caged birds fly free
set ablaze the brown grass
where I used to lay

Lover, you lie
and the lie you deny becomes truth
because we are animals inside
and we want to feel loved all the time.
Prophecies fruit on the tree planted by forked tongues,
plucked and tasted
sweet,
yet are they hearty enough to fill you for years?

A fortune is left on the table,
there amongst the shattered pieces
of manilla cookie shell
It reads,
"In this destruction, see the meaning"

A girl named Karma met me on the road
She said, open your eyes when you’re through

Now burnt sage may erase a lover’s rage
And a pretty girl's face may seal your fate
One way or maybe two

We plucked flowers from her life like memories laid upon an open casket
Lowering ourselves into the ground, deep,
like a purple hue hanging on a spring time skyline
Now, I’m not sure why life lives on the edge of death
nor the reason why young people die
I suppose it’s just the way of things,
and that can only ever be the logical explanation for anything occurring here or anywhere,
physical beauty fades just as a sunset, and even if you capture a picture, nothing can replace that feeling of being there, standing,
baring witness to the all encompassing fruit of the immaculate conception permeating all existence,
like a deaf child struck dumb hearing his first sound
or feeling the wetness of rain
and smelling the earth after its fall,  
I am

Now Karma, she said something so interesting to me
She said, you may not be here tomorrow
That’s the way it goes I suppose
One moment you’re here, and then you’re gone
Its all a surprise, even to the dying, but of course we’re all dying,
just some of us live along the way,
young death be a thief of sorts,
stealing into your home in the dead of night,
taking you abruptly like a dark epiphany,
robbing vitality, corrupting the seasons,
injecting nonsense into the blood stream of our way of things,
yet nothing he takes he wouldn’t get
So I ask you
How many nights will you sit beside a fire
feeling a part of the realness surrounding you?
When that crooked deal passes your way, and its time to count the chips, cashing in, will you be able to smile at the dealer and say thanks,
your tires swerving into a dusty stop like a heaven bound jalopy
come crushing through the gates,
leaping four steps at a time

Now people talk about what isn’t fair, but there is no such thing as fair
Just like some days it rains and some days it snows
Some days it’s cold and some days you can lay in the sun,
we learn to live in the weather
And some of us talk about it
and most of us drink water
These seem to be the way of things.
The paradoxical nature of the observer unable to comprehend infinite scale, yet still experiencing it.  
We are names made of stars existing on a grain of sand,
our universe a droplet of rain in a spring storm,
yet boundless as an archer firing an arrow that never lands,
everything a larger version of something small,
everything a smaller version of something large

Within this paradox exists a search for meaning,
we all long to do things that speak for themselves,
the value being intrinsic,
like deeds of gold,
but after the funeral we realize the power of the word.
We promise every year to have a living funeral,
and be speakers for the dead,
detailing the reasons why we had love.

Now, I'm not sure what I like more
the taste of candy sweet or the view
but from her mouth I heard the sound
Don't do to me as I have done to you
So from this place I took a page
from the sinners oath of truth
kneeling down before barbed crown
feeling the subtle point slice through
Knowing what is said and done
will certainly cycle back to you

When I look back to my youth, I some times wonder where that spark went, it is always then that I realize....youth was the best drug I ever got high on.
I was tough as titanium, and had the passion of a thousand poets and song writers. My words sharp, come backs witty. Everything about me radiated originality with an illumination greater than three of our suns.
Now I am older, I have one child in and one child out. It's easy to be invincible when you have nothing to live for.

Screaming your name into the winter winds,
the emptiness its own reply
Marked steps leading to a coven grove, faint crescent moonlight on the snow
in the small clearing, round water, clouded starlight watch above
Praying by a frozen forest pond at midnight
The spirits of the trees acknowledge my presence in their circle
I tell them I have come to see the darkest part of night
Turning up my palms, opening my hands and my heart and my mind
A human receiver, channeling the vibrations of the Earth
Sensations directed inwardly outwardly flow into action
Collecting branches and pine needles
Leaving them at your door, the fresh scent of cool mint and sap
Natural balms to sanctify a new reality

Priestess, I am sorry.
I turned my back on the faith. If only for a span,
But for absolute belief, it took me doubt
Doubt burnt down the church
But the spirit still resides in our hearts, Shakti
We felt the flames of the church on fire,
we watched as the edifice we constructed
crashed and burned around us
Invocations of death and pain, I heard and felt the despair from your mouth, my love, a hateful sword ran through me then, and I could only stand still, close my eyes, and die, as it penetrated us
Kali came to wipe the unreal away
What is left?
Benevolent Mother Goddess
Redeemer of My Universe
You are
I am your equal
Duad
Standing together to face the world
Building amphitheaters in the wood to recite inspirations derived from love
Let me bring you flowers
Let me be your hand
Let me be a swan by your side
Never leaving you again
Dependent on no one
Yet interdependent with each others entire universe
Our voices merging together into a song
By you, divine lover, this universe is borne,
my mother, my sister, my friend
You are my woman
In woman is the form of all things
There is no jewel rarer than you

The Places I’ve been
I’ve been in rain, I’ve stood
In puddles and I have watched
As the pools of water climb up my pant leg
I’ve traveled to different continents
I’ve hiked up the mountains that separate them
And I thought I had seen most of everything
The dips of this world and its highest peaks
And after all of this seeing
After all of these places of being
The place I remember seeing the best
Was a place I wouldn’t have guessed
Some rink-**** of a church out west
And even now I cannot tell you what
Art looks like inside the Louvre
But every detail of those nuns I can tell you know
The sound of their forks hitting metal plates
The sound of those same forks when
They were pulled between teeth
Their black coats fraying against the ground
Their protruding knees as they bend down
When they were praying the tiny mumbles
From a distance sounded like sweet-nothings
And I thought that this was their version
Of making love to the Lord.

Acquiesce here my love
Ameliorate my heart
The assemblage of circumstance provides dulcet ebullience
An efflorescent dalliance conflated into cathartic becoming
My bucolic bungalow made upon your callipygous
A young Life’s denouement
Your evocative elixir fetching
An erstwhile emollient embrocation
Your eloquent fingers find their way to frisson
My felicitous chatoyant gambols in glamor like a halcyon incipient made ineffable by the look of the ingénue
The labyrinthine inglenook lagoon leisurely lithe
The murmurous daffodils wink at the insouciance of your beauty
A panoply panacea, the half shadow complete as an epiphany
Quintessential to feminine riparian resplendence
Your mellifluous voice, an opulent offing, the sumptuous summery soliloquy of an angel
Cools my soul like the smell of earth after rain
Your propinquity ripples the scintilla of my spirit
Your surreptitious smile like a zephyr quietly whispers
Its redolent seraglio sempiternal in my thoughts
As skyward gazes like saccharine gossamer lilt with the knowledge of our raveling juxtaposition
a masterful pastiche, the cynosure of divine revelation