"Life's not fair" you used to say.
I told you that life isn't fair for anyone which is what makes it fair for everyone.
I wondered if my words had reached you, if you saw anything past the horizon, why you read so many books.
I wanted you to go outside and play, to cause some trouble, to kiss a boy or two. Instead you locked yourself inside a world of solitude where your only friends were the characters of the tales you weaved in your head as you read.
You had tossed away many of my expectations, my hopes, of fathering a girl. You gave me no boys to intimidate, possibly to scare away. I never once had to wait for you past midnight, after hearing you sneak away. How I yearned to help you pick out your dress for each or one of your school dances. I would see you draped in a black scarlet silk, shoulders and back exposed enough to tease any young mans heart, yet only slightly. Mid back would suffice. The dress would hover inches away from your ankles, and this is where my influence may have been involved for I never once saw you wear high heels, anywhere, to my joy. I wouldn't have apposed ***, but I'd let you know just what your mother went through having you. I'd tell you how she smiled before she died, exhausted, saying without speaking a word, it was worth it. But only when you're ready. I wanted to explain condoms, embarrass you with a banana, but these things somehow you already knew.
I don't blame you for being you, my dear, no. I just always had an image in my head, that you erased and redrew. I've grown up believing every experience is a lesson, every person a teacher, and every star another reason to love. How I loved watching you grow, even though I always wished for you to experience, something, more. I'm sorry I wasn't the father I had imagined I'd be. I just, had never experienced such loss. Your mother, without realizing it until she was gone, was my life. I adored her beyond reason. You look just like your mother as you read. When I would pass your room, seeing you in the crook of your window reading whatever book you were reading, it was as if I were looking back in time. Another gift you gave me without ever knowing it.
I hadn't meant to be so silent, so distant. Is that how you learned to keep to yourself, was it so easy not to laugh? You were always quiet as a baby. I can't remember what your cries sounded like, they were few to never in between. Perhaps we taught each other, yet your eyes were always filled with age. How you knew without knowing, scarred me. You frightened me child. I felt but a boy in your presence.
A worthless father, I know, intimidated by his own child.
But how I have always loved you, how I love you still.
How I wish I could tell you, just once, before you left me like your mother.
Do the dead listen when the living speak?
Is it worth hearing the cries of an old man broken once too many times?
Darling, tell your mother hi for me, tell your mother, I'm sorry.

******,
almost.

simply is,
she said, sighing.

raking toes
on grass

the world, spins,
and
there's you

I haven't forgotten
it's just, it isn't
anymore

I said I walk on floorboards made of dust,
whispering, every breath, you've touched
pushing tear drops down tear ducts
hoping for sin to fall off

crying stories of sacrifice
the children listen
far too much
your stories have grown bitter old man
the children deserve better

I said I've known shadows make better fillers
pleading, I don't want to feel, no, not that much
taping shut my eyes, I remember
this fading light the children know so well

burying legs in dirt, forts are castles
they know airplanes are really
seats that fly
building houses in the sky

I said I was a child once
You said,
why the rush jack, it ain't always time to grow up

comes with glimpses
distant viewings of
understanding

a clarity, unfolding
neatly on the ground

crumpled paper
rests untouched
forgotten

notes

small reminders
to keep on going

each letter
is every step taken

an expression
of experience

born from seeds
said to be created
out the palms of
wisdom, showered
gently with hope

it comes in glimpses

sometimes

it just goes

I would like to believe
we are all connected, a
mobile massive
pile of flesh mixed
in some bone juice
& ash, contributing
as something larger
then self, living with
each other, as one another,
firing pistons of thought
engines cooling by our
own single breath into
infinity of some end
never having to realize
what's right with wrong
just living as this
one.

But I remember I
operate in this separate
body walking on two
feet swimming through
turbulent sea's of me's
myself and greed,
this lust of more
powered by this ever-
going combustion of
competition one upping
to succeed with money
running through veins
clogged in violence,
forgetting the you
within all this
misery, we swallow
to be our anti-
depressants because
we sweat **** to
feed children we
teach to fight is
to attain, something,
search for something
I remember how I
search, how I search
how I seek, fueled
by this insatiable
hunger for this some-
thing more I can't
seem to find with this
need to feel complete,
this urge to fill this
"void gnawing at my
left lung" telling me,
reminding me I am
separate & will always
be, until I noticed
breath.

Invisible, heavy on
my weighed down
shoulders, colored
clear like wind, I
saw the element we
all breath in fire
that pulsates
as though I were
turned on, I was
turned on
to this liquid fire
rushing into the void
'nom nomming
on my left lung', as
I began to understand
the magnetic connection
of my beating lifeline,
reminding me what
was always known
was always believed,
somewhere in marrow
next to white blood
cells & hope, that
cliche one word
love

that connects us
to god to the
whatever's & what if's
to the me to the
you, with dust
in my right eye
the gap between your
tooth where eternal
wisdom is stored
because non judge-
ment wiggles through
toes like mud oozing
in the cracks of clenched
fists, that I am you
that I am, that it
is & will be & has
& continues on & on
& on & on

before

einstein or dinosaurs
there was an atom, made
of tiny parts composed
of smaller pieces held
together by space, found
bounding stars as we
squint attempting our
attempts to stare at
the sun because what
we forgot is the
I am & the I can,
the we are change
so we choose which
way our lips point
which way our sight
see's, by releasing the
old never were me's
& embracing this
new philosophy who
watched grains become
planets & god's born
into children who
work together as
one to become one

with words like
love, compassion &
kindness, with words
like love, compassion
& kindness with words
like love, compassion
& kindness with words
like thoughts becoming
our realities, no matter
what we believe or
think or thought, that
we hold the power of
god, the fist of judge-
ment we release to
grab on to words
like love, compassion
& kindness because
today I choose to
love, to be compassionate,
to spread kindness
with action of this
space that holds together
our veins, which were
only taught to pump
money, to encourage
greed & this lust of
violence where we
fight wars on oil
wars on drugs
wars on poverty
on hunger on
depression, ADHD
bipolarism economy,
we fight wars for
Peace.

We **** in
the name of justice
the name of god
of love

The stars
shine bright the non-
physical of hope
for something more, that
something more we're
searching for, look up
to realize what we are
taught, were taught
may not all be right,
that maybe my ribcage
wants to explode with
empathy for my fellow
man & follow him to
this promised land where
we can grow in the sorrows
of our joys because "even
the clouds weep in cele-
bration" 'when the answer
to everything right is
me',
is you,
is us,
if we choose

if

we choose, maybe there was
no void, maybe it was all a
story created by our minds

the pulse in my wrist controls
my world, now I ask you
does yours?

an attitude of gratitude shares a projection of a true self that holds the image of god within its aura as the reincarnation of christ
Buddha lives within us all,
we are all divine

Let yourself wonder to the depths of what you are
not through definitions of words
there's more

Know there is always more to you,
We are beautiful and deserve all that is good
choose happiness,
Its a simple process of our psyche to be,
be what we are, one

One, is everything,
God, is everything,
Love is God,
in my belief,
you are dear to me

Live life alive

experience that which knows no bounds
for the moment is always happening

now

its always been now

Its a city I've never seen
as I ride waves painted on steel tracks
looking through worn out glass
to see the setting sun cast behind refineries,

I got off on McArthur, not really sure
but the voice said southbound
and I think I heard
San Francisco too,
These are good times to be aware and maybe
not wear what plays music in my ears
but I heard
cause I listened
and I found myself there,

"Man I know You!"
homeless men have diamond voices
when they sing me as I walk,
homeless times since 1982,
I'm sure you've all bought
one paper at one time for one dollar for someone before,

That night was my first night,
but I never read mine just got high on city lights
as I got lost on stockton and found myself on top of Sacramento,
and I'll tell ya I was looking for Jones street which is next to ofarrely.

12 pack PBR is a better deal then a six,
Apples make for better pipes
then glass on glass with sticks to light our way home,
home, where was I but old friends making new friends
reading old words hearing new,

"Im the Honeycomb baby
Yea baby
the Honeybomb",

Walking finding not so lonely bus's
Come out and Play yayyyyyy,
people know of warriors too
when you shout for no one in particular to hear
the public transport people know we all got somewhere far to go,

Welcome to the city streets
where leaking gutters
is one man peeing on the streets
I swear his stream was strong,

Welcome to the city view,
the tallest building,
that hill,
a university,
You can see the stars tonight
not always,
your lucky,
be ready for the cloudy nights,

Welcome to the city voice
where everyone sings their little tune
and everyone sings along,
you pick up one guitar,
two more might follow
with a bass and djembe too

Welcome to the city boy.
Its your new home for now,
and now is all that really matters.

And don't forget a bicycle
cause taxicabs ain't fun
when your broke
living life rich on something more then paper bills,

cause

You might work from 10 to 12
but your here and your living
and I hear everyone still goes out to play
cause you work for fun
and your fun is what you make it,

I might never leave
yet I might find myself coming back
its San Francisco
and I'm living near
to find out what the city means
to those who have lived suburban dreams
can only venture out to guess
what a city holds
for those little boys
finding out what it means to make a man.

So I'm welcomed to the city
and its only just begun,
cause now its my turn for another job
for more fun
made of all fun
in times to high to care,
cause it don't matter what you wear
or how you act,
as long as your discovering you
for what might be true,
Cant tell you that I know
But I'll tell you,

Welcome to the city,
cause you might already live here,
but listen to this Kansas Colorado Oregon kid speak,
everyday holds something new
no matter how long you've lived,
or plan to.

A shaky feeling as I pat at my chest
telling myself to move on
to accept
yet try as I may failure is my friend
so I stop trying to find success.

Free music staring at water to far away as it rains not now but it did
the dog is sleeping curled away from me the dog come to me it doesn't
oh peeling dandruff face plaster up the walls
my uncle is gone shopping for a gutter
the rain needs catching because before it was falling not now but it did
I don't live at my own place but I have my own room
its like school with no school
a job with no money what we do for love I eat chocolate
free chocolate with *** inside,
and walmart sold me underwear ten times too big but they gave me socks that fit
pray for me
I sell my car
pray for me
a treadmill too
the money buys a battery
the money buys all.
Its california living can't you tell the palm trees are too tall
I read a book I've read before
and the girls don't respond after sending me their response
oh girls stop playing with my heart its too strong to break so quick trying to tear open these old scars
just respond that you need me,
and I'll tell you, no.

sadly to say
my reflexes have left me today.
when you said i love you
i stared at the moon
when i came to
you asked
"where were you"
i said "i left"
you said "i know"
and we greeted the new day
as a couple with to many words
to say hey.
she knocked the glass with her left elbow
i caught the glass with my right hand
the T.V was on
i thought we canceled the cable
and made love on the table
still i forgot to say
i love you
because today i'm a penguin
not a cat, like yestarday

Hey dear,
I saw fear,
He was quite near,
to me.
I was too afraid to say hi.

I cut a clock in two
to have twice as much time.
I died at 42.


                                                                                                      

                                                                                          ****.

fading mist desperate hands can no longer cling to the rising sun
dew settles as dew does
small deer find tasteful treats between the trees
a rabbit stirs
rays of light hit the lingering souls of water wondering where to go
so they throw a party and invite seven colors to join them.
I unbuckle my pants to **** and just barely miss a flower.

a lingering sensation of what must be done with what is done and how it will be done and when it wasn´t done where confusion flounders with my sweaty ***** in cool chilean nights.
Im nervous,
yet my hands remain calm my heart blips on every bleep yet the space between my ears fills with dreads of whats to come cause my feet find my throat and they dont get along so I stumble to the bathroom only to find the waters run out.
The ticket knows delay when doctors sign slips but I feel I feel something else so instead of acceptance I fight with resistance as a stubborn tool more dangerous then a dull knife to wake through sleeping hours to torture myself with the image of the unfair who is an unkindly god who ***** on flowers when they´re already dead.
oh.
its just that, that that is that.
Logically we understand what we´ve already learned yet history is a longer trip then two seconds past when its catching up and passing to secounds not yet found.
logical al a ly we can simply be yet I find time for thoughts which distract me from me so I can be a me that only lies yet believes making my reality.
no point.
theres no point in splashing bucket full of fire on fire except to say you did but I´ve already said that and hipster cats like new trends which have always been thought before.
The couch can be comfortable tonight.

a stuffed couple share their skin with clothes never to be taken off trapped within their sins they lust for a simple pleasure stripped from them.
Yet they have books too heavy to read their arms drawn to their bodies their feet sewed together while they stand looking down at me.
Every afternoon I tie back the shades and give them a glimpse of a garden they will never walk and scentless flowers they will never smell, but how could they know that.
Their house hangs on the wall carved of wood their bedroom is on the thrid floor around the corner and through the doors they dream of the simple cottage far from the city.
They never move, they never speak, they never sigh, they can´t even weep, all they do is see what its like to be me.

I helped a fat man find a denim jumpsuit in the guest house down the road
when I was working at some department store
dreading the thought of helping someone not beautiful like me
but my boss she has quick little feet,
she caught me as I slinked to the other side
¨You will be perfect¨ she said
so I smiled and said
¨of course¨.
The fat man had a fat beard and was already wearing a fat denim jumpsuit.
I agreed he needed a new one because this was an old one but the department store´s clothes were too small.
Someone had disorganized the guesthouse.
The clothes were in heaps on the floor, the fat man was happy enough to find fat jumpsuits his size so I let him meander and take deep sighs.
I began to like this fat man as I watched him slide on his belly across the floor, I saw in him beauty I hadn´t see before,
¨maybe¨I thought ¨we all deserve more¨
before he was gone.
you recieve no commision once you wake up.

Im the sweet talking hard headed man who never bedded your woman after we gone to macdonalds but I saw a movie with arnold now hes the mayor seemed to work in my favor.
I make gold rain i know it hurts but thats a good pain I make you rich with out even trying  why you cryin I ain´t even shyin away from my fame like a million dollar baby born with a silver spoon now tell me thats not shady
cause it ain´t son.
I´m the one you been looking for the one you been seeking for the one you been reaching for im the golf ball in the air so yell fore! cause I´m there.
Mother ***** I´ll never be a trucka when I got rhymes like dimes which take no time to fight some illegal activity.
I put suckas in cribs cause I make dem weep like kids now run home and **** on some **** Im a million dollar baby born with a silver spoon for *****.
I´m the best son cause all I do is have fun. Can´t touch this you know you want this too hot to play with you too busy making barbeque, ON MY CHEST.
I´m ******* hot not like the rest cause I spit seeds from rasberries and I know she carries blackberries but I don´t want those no more fo show. Ya know what I´m sayin.
Just to prove it doesn´t matter how you act as long as its fact that your having fun, dont mean to shun with offense in any wrong tense I said with some words that if I played the guitar I´d play you some cords but I can´t so I end this rhyme with some swords.

daylight drear is about to smear its shear vastness onto me out of fear causing me to  fancy that i seem a little queer when i cheer without a leer so sincere it could cause a tear so near to the new year with my fellow peers who bought their gifts at sears. 30% off.
we learned fast from all those days past how to make the little things last cause being chaste didn't stop him from raising a mast in those early morning shadows cast. even grown men have *** dreams.
now they rise at dawn like a poor little faun who could have gone to pawn a thumb of a *** instead of go and con a con man named stan who was too tan and without a fan who woke late to find a ***** pan and could longer say yes I can within such a short span. Franklin could have been right.
As I listened to cher i saw a bear with no hair but he didn't seem to mind so I didn't seem to care for i was going to the fair good thing i bought nair to handle all that should be bare when I share my pear stolen from the mare who would only stare at the **** hair who turned out to be too slow and failed his dare.I've heard of boys who want to look good too.
now I have a light for each new night I get a small sight of the handsome man within the mirror who was bright from many years aflight kind of like a kite just with a little more might and with out such fright as the blight where you have to put up some sort of fight which is no good at such a height where things get a little tight alright. so back off a bit.
She was a ten okay ben did you put the baby in the pen don't worry about the hen she'll be fine with all those men. One of their names is, bob, from accounting.

how much did she give you?
five bucks. how much is it?
five bucks.
Ill take it, the brown one. Do they have a ladder?
A pole cousin, they use a pole, they always use poles.
Genius, its the forth one up. Is that brown?
Its coffee colored, like coffee.
Ill take it.
See anything else you want?
I want this little cross with jesus on it.
Why?
I dont know, I like it.
Maybe if you hang it upside down.
I think it looks ugly like that.
look ice cream, want some?
of course.
did you hear what he said to those kids?
what?
if your lying I'll cut your fingers and head off or Ill dip you in oil, which do you prefer?
he said that?
he said that. ******* crazy *******.
The ice creams good.
yea, I need some tobacco. vamo.

I´ve been thinking too much of a past without a body
of a spirit who felt a little shoddy
with a mind that wanted control of heart it could never fully control.
I´ve been thinking of the taliban, men dressed in faith for what they believe in
I´ve been thinking about belief and in what I believe in, if I believed enough to sacrifice my body for a future I can´t be sure of,
I´ve been thinking if I were givin time as my present where would I like to be, well, the present is a gift worth opening even if only for one life my life a life will affect your life and in this time we´ve been givin we make choices based on handouts from a god who loved you more then you thought possible of a soul that shined perhaps too birghtly of a heart which holds nothing but silence in a world created by our majesty
I´ve been thinking that maybe I am god, that maybe I was created as the image of myself to learn a few lessons from hard times and grow a little hope from good times
I´ve been thinking I could be a great man, maybe I´m already great man, that I am still a boy trying to recieve his addition muptiplication division arithmic badge of honor in second grade 2 plus 2 was all I could stutter but it didn´t matter cause I kept going until I dropped out for reasons that could seem a little sadder but I believe in a world that I can be me even with out a college degree, that when Im ready I can go back without a worry of how maybe it should be
and I´ve been thinking about a beautiful place thats really nowhere when I sit in silence with silence with myself, I find it there but for some reason I make the road bumpy and with too many hills where my imaginary feet get ill from too much foaming from all this guilt that maybe I´m not good enough to reach where buddha sat and I´m not worthy to make a change in world where judgement doesn´t really mean a thing except for what we think of ourselves.
Yea, I´ve been thinking of blue worlds where blue´s jazz and blue´s slide guitar and blues harmonica and saxophone and trombone and trumpet is all they play because it speaks a truth no ones heard before even with out words then I start thinking thats what it means to me how can I portray that feeling to somone else
I´ve been thinking as I cook myself some toast that maybe if I work a little bit harder and don´t expect everything handed to me I could cook something better which requires more than a couple strokes of butter
that
Maybe if I belive in what I think that I can make any reality real with just a thought that if what I say in my head is actually what I believe then what have I been thinking with thoughts like ¨I´m afraid that no one can love me¨and thoughts like ¨I wish I could be like someone else¨that if what we think is actually what we create then I should be thinking that hey I am great.
So I´ve been thinking change happens with thought so maybe I am changing more than I thought with just these thoughts I think when I´m lingering through time and greeting each wave of negativity with something close to positivity which could be said is the same as god, that love that the devil so fondly loves to hate is really the image that I´ve always been its just that I forgot with these distracting thoughts,
I started thinking then I need to stop, destroy, annhilate these demon thoughts of hate hate hate which really are just fear fear fear but then I realized that I only patronized that fear with more hate and I added gas to a fire that quickly ate my soul before I realized I was on a downward spiral, confused on thought alone of I´m supposed to be a better man not a sadder man because when I added something else to that fire it spread and I realized I needed some sort of water which could do things a little bit harder
Thats when I thought to love the hate the same as you love that love.
When I see those thoughts tromping through this sacred vessel I don´t get angry at their muddy feet instead I say its okay, sit back relax make yourself at home, and they slowly settle into this vast expanse of infinity which some have called your heart. And thats when I began to forgive myself for all that shame and anger I cast like a shadow and I began to forgive myself for all that guilt and suffering I cast like harry potter and I began to forgive myself for when I was too scared to talk because I thought that somebody out there wouldn´t like me and I began to forgive myself for all that I had embodied with this false self I had thrown out to protect this oh so holy body,
I´ve been thinking that maybe being vulnerable isn´t as bad as its been cracked out to be and that maybe one day I´ll finally become what I am in silence
that
what I´ve been thinking is maybe this is just another thought that could be forgotten, but thats exactly when I need to remember what I already know of how the future should be exciting and the past has always helped remind me that when I´m living right now I no longer have to hide behind thoughts which no longer scare me.
I´ve been thinking it all starts with a thought, something I believe we should all be taught.

I don´t know about sticks
but I´m sure about stones
and its not true about words
cause I heard that some hurt
like a cast wearing hummingbird
talking to his brother
about cold words he read
and never muttered
to the other
who was leaving tomorrow
on warm rainy days
wondering what he´d done wrong
when he waited to say
simple words
that can flutter
like cupids stomach when he pokes his own ***
with an arrow.

Maybe now poor wings can heal
cause all hummingbirds have good laughs
you can feel.

she was cute,
I think it was her smile,
she smiled at me,
everytime I spoke.
yea I´m sure its her smile

but

when noticing the anatomy of a woman,
you can´t forget the eyes

she means nothing if you forgot,
her eyes,
large and brown,
this is how I know it was her smile,
because her eyes smiled too
even when her mouth forgot to

Her hair was gentle...
like her eyes,
her hips they swayed from side to side

She scooted her chair closer to me
when we stopped dancing to rest tired feet

Maybe next time I´ll dance with you

I hope you found your keys

a  relished cherised sometime almost perished relationship
which continues past the hands of time,
A well crafted sculptor of making things come true.
I remember warm summer days and criss crossed lawns
¨No you don´t do it that way¨
No common sense you once said, I hope I proved you wrong.
Homeless jobless schooless kid,
He´s got soul though, I felt It I know it I seen it there,
Always proud,
A strong hand firmly pushing forward.
It doesn’t have to stop now
I remember long work days and never coming home
I gave a friend an oreo, just one
You laughed with me, our heads touched the floors
We´d swallow music and throw back legs
to relax on leather sofas that never could calm down
It was one dog promised one dog received, she was mine you know, at first
It was a bitten finger; I never let go,
Another peeing dog,
I stopped talking to you for a week
I remember a tire swing but no trampoline
Climbing up trees with knives between my teeth
Digging up concrete slabs, they were only 6 inches deep
Smoking herbal teas, pretending to be bad
I remember red walls dappled with sponge marks and ripping out carpet for cold floors
I never liked my room after.
Wobbling was a bad way to keep a secret
I got scared when a knock knock became a come on in
I can see your bed side lamp pouring warm colors through your face,
You held a book
I wondered if you read or if it was just some art
Have I told you that reality doesn´t always feel real
It seemed a scene painted on city streets to remind us of something, the mayor would never know
The ¨are you okay¨
The ¨yea just tired I think I´ll go to bed¨
Or the ¨where are you going¨
With the ¨just a cruise to feel the wind¨.
That wind wore church parking lots like empty streets smoking grass
I remember you asked me to stop
My answer was the cops
With cracked beers in Wyoming hot tub blues
Baby boy wasn´t so much a baby anymore.
Made mistakes, failed, disappointed, disagreed maybe didn´t do anything at all
Our faces weren´t always perfect
I´ve see a few frowns, they like to hide deep far down
And I wouldn´t change a thing.
you´ve taught me to sculpt so lets imagine again
Cause those sad times made the bad times go away
And I remember more sun shined teeth then any lips pointing towards the ground
In underground city hums where suburban mischief was the cause of what we are now.

I wish there were giants
so I could sleep on their chests.

fairy tales are best told with a warm fire boiling at your teeth as you dip red toes in green goo for blue shoes that appear from cleopatras yellow ***.
oh what an ***.
but thats a grown up tale and today I play child like thinking of ****** thoughts while wondering what they mean to me because every cloud tells the story of mans birth into a world filled of his own worth where purple bees **** nectar from transparent flowers that imagine what it´d be like to breathe.
Brick roads are never gold and if they were you´d never know, I´ll let you finish that tale.
You´re someone special, probably to your mom! child like burn from self deprived person who strikes out when insides start to melt, good thing the tounge is in the mouth to lick the flames of charred black teeth, don´t worry keep notice and you´ll be better then you were before but not better then someone else we´re equals you and me and the dog and also that tree we´re equals you see be free with lame rhymes that don´t mean a thing cause you don´t have to stop cause your afraid to keep watch but keep going and look at an open heart who´s no longer hiding from fear.
black worlds are white if you believe.

if time flies when your having a good time

i found the key to immortality

i don´t want to live forever

a decapitated dog put on too many sticks to reach out and bite a child who only wanted to play with a soft touch and gapped holed grin.
the lights go out when you can´t know when,  say yes to hold lights for when ´when´ happens ¨you can trip and fall¨.
glasses melted with fire to become bigger for a bigger head are still to dark to wear in shadow.
tilted camera you stare with a corked head curious to what goes on behind me, won´t you look my way instead.
dragonfly warrior poorly protecting his flourescent queen from the onslaught of molecules in a world filled with air, with air, with air, air, air.
the volume of speakers are controlled by tiny gods moving their tiny fingers, just a littly bit louder my dear.
can you remember when landline telephones were used, I remember circle dials and zero always took the longest, when did phone get rid of tele?
white flowers and white hanging sheets with yellow sun bolts raining on a clear sky shout with thunder from a noisless wind, I wear earphones tonight.
trees dance better then me, plants taste better then me, pianos sound better then me, me is better then me, we´re equals.
fat cat dreams of being skinny, he wears eye liner on weekdays and thongs on the weekends.
sometimes yoga makes me feel like a woman who feels **** then yoga makes me think what that thought means?
rocks are hot when heated.

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sometimes it feels like everything repeats itself.

sometimes I try to sound more grown up than what I feel.

you wonder how you can sit there and tell me whats wrong with my life and not get upset. that you can sit there and get upset about me telling you whats wrong with yours. How else does an ego retaliate then to attack what you see as weak in others. The ego wont admit thats what it sees weak in itself. But the ego can grab on to just that to help itself grow. Ever heard of the pain body? that addiction to being victimised. when negative thoughts just grow or grow, and you become sadder, and madder and a little more confused.
The ¨Im so stupid¨the ¨I cant believe I did that¨ the ¨Im no good¨.
It takes a little bit of honesty with the right mix of awareness. When you see it you stop it.
So many people say how difficult it is to change. How hard it is to live in the now. Have you read those spirit guides and teachers books? At first they ****** me off too, ¨All you have to do is live NOW and not NOW, NOW¨
And all I could think of was how.
How the **** do I live now, If it was that simple Id already be ******* doing it. Well you live now by living now. really is that simple.
But Ill go a step further and let you know what Im starting to figure out, again.
Thought.
Just like being aware of those bad ones be aware of those good ones. The things you love and make you happy. Think of those more often, and think of new things. Don´t forget to include yourself. Maybe Ill sound crazy and tell you to write them down and read them every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed. Maybe Ill go a step further and tell you to think of all the things you hate  about yourself and write down the opposite and read those everymorning and everynight.
So don´t sit there and tell me whats wrong with me when thats the exact reason you dont want to look at you.
Everyday is what you make it, might as well make it good.

And if your too lazy to even try, then at least remember this when your tired of not trying any more.

its a discontorted reality birthed from the mush of what is and could be´s but wasn´t and won´t yet still carries the presence of that which should have been what hadn´t seen before.
its a cold beer getting warm, one of three put in the fridge next to the cheese and butter under the liver across from the milk and the jelly who wanted to be eaten but only saw the hot get cold, I´ll drink you slowly tonight.
its this little fly that keeps landing on my left arm as I stare at blue capped deoderant canisters wishing for the year 1995 video game joy as I shake a shake and eat coconut tasting cookies with no coconut anything listed in the ingrediants.
its the warm night slipping his fingers down the back of your pants as you inch forward resisiting what you secretly want, a bead of sweat runs over your lips as you cry out and find your own hands reaching where warms ones wont.
its an unfinished pool that needs five truck loads of sand, three of rocks, five of dirt because the dirt can´t touch the sand and the the rocks can´t touch the pool if we want to swim while the sun is high and the clouds are sparse.
its that feeling you get as your walking up dark steps and you run you run and you never know why, its the listening without having to know, its the yes to your goodbye, its the I can so I will move on, its the no longer a boy I finally feel like a man, its any pants are too tight with a *******.
its life.

We were dining on the rat trap, pulled back ready to snap.
A fresh cedar frame, the print was red (the outlines) and blue (the silouhette of a rat). Its imperfection was off centered, the copper painted iron spring held the candle with smooth hands. Our dinner flickered with the shadows.
Stuffed in a darker corner under a table which held the masters tools. I said hi to my friends who only scurried faster with the sounds of my throat. That night I forgot how to talk.
Peanut butter under a wedge of white cheese, a fly made his last moves on that goo like a butter knife poorly spreading butter, we were eating fine this evening.
I was busy avoiding your gaze which haunted me the first day you wouldnt look at me.
Now it was all I could see, at least imagine.
I took a small chunck with a small dip and a small leg. They say hungers the best seasoning, I wasnt very hungry.
You got tired of my abscence, as you stood I finally wasnt busy anymore.
I told you not to move. I forgot I forgot I couldnt talk.
You took one step.

The master wont be cleaning up rats tonight.

I miss something right now.


                                                                                   But...


                                           I don't know what it is.

it´s like water spilling from a leaky floorboard and your stuck in the basement.
it´s like asphalt thats too hot and you forgot your shoes at home.
it´s like the baby just pooed and it ain´t your baby, still its gotta be changed.
it´s like the wrong ***** for the right screwdriver.
it´s like a cold winters day in skinny jeans, no room for longjohns,
or a bird ******* in your hair
or carolers caroling
or kids screaming
or a broken heart and you dont know why it broke.

it´s the song that wont stop singing itself inside your head because somehow it knows you need work letting go.

hey, song, go **** yourself.

cause I´m tired of being reminded I´m no good.
cause I´m tired of feeling no good.
cause I´m tired of having dams for eyes.
cause I´m tired of being the same.

maybe its learning to rest more so I´m no longer tired of trying.
cause I´m tired of sitting on my ***,
doing nothing, about something, which is me.

fire breathing cat eating goat stealing suitcase carrying pants wearing shirt taking shoe dancing fly wishing ant eating flesh stroking candle lighting ***** who's serving wine to everyone but me.

My words will sting you one day.

the washer stopped working and i've got a soiled mind to clean,
hope has almost left me, driving down I-5, toward oncoming traffic,
my shoes no longer fit and I thought I was already a grown boy,
this is what the fish must have felt like when they starting growing legs,
I wonder if they knew they learned to walk to die,
I'll give them credit, they did a good job growing up, but did a bad job when it came to swing the bat,
if it was a meteor, but could have been  a volcano or the ice, I still don't know.
I don't know if baby jesus birthed me or if we have that common ancestor,
I think they stopped believing so they stopped eating, then waited for something else, they waited too long,
so I'm guessing they never knew when they took those first steps.

We began inventing before we began creating,
I bet star trek could clean a soul with the touch of a red button,
I don't know if hope can crash but surely he can't die,
maybe hope, I'll see you in hell, your driving just to end it,
because you wouldn't drive to leave me, I think i let you go,
I'm having trouble remembering but I promise I stopped drinking, slowed down, at least I tried.

Roller coaster rides end in bird baths, the birds aren't clean anymore,
I see them ******* to each other, all they say is "****".
I heard them, made me laugh, the little bird held up a wing I think he was giving me the finger,
how quickly a frown replaces a face, good thing I had my BB gun,
he sure fell fast, I had nothing against his friend, but I learned me a lesson: all accomplice's must die.
Fly little birdy, each flap equals one pump before you crash.
I made a river and didn't need a shovel, my tears were enough, I made little paper boats and set them on fire, I gave those little birds a  little ceremony,
I found three pearls in their charred remains.
The stars have told me they've been reborn, I'm still young, they might live to meet me.

The birds are living dinosaurs, did you know? I guess they still have hope,
but its only because they can fly, which is why they **** on car doors,
can't blame them, I'd do it too perched on top of a tree, cause I'd just need three ***** of my two wings to get up and go. No need to run. I found their secret.

I don't believe angles can fly

...

to my tattered brothers and sisters I sing this little tune for you:

Pick up a bottle
Throw away your lives
Pitch a tent under an overpass in San Francisco.
Collect tin cans that never rust
and pick for food in garbage cans.
Talk too loud cause your used to to hum and the buzz of the engines that never quite seem to turn off.
Your white noise, your little humming butterfly.

I see hipster talking cool cat bearing fake glass wearing tight jean preaching ***** walking down old man made a big buck avenue.
Maybe I'm just jealous that my ***** die from boxer briefs n levi skinny fits with out benjamin striding along my side.

Old punk rockers tye dye bandanna wearing sweet talking hard headed mother ******* that never quite seem to die.
Keep getting laid off and job offers but no parachute, no just in cases only no replies. Name your dog's royalty, let them splash through mud, don't you care if your old woman can't dare to see the beauty in your queen's ***** getting all wet from playing with new friends. "Keep living while your young"

The smarts can't hold a job with business's that no one really cares. You live your suburban dream with Rudolf leading santa's slay with light's too bright for all your neighbors to stare. Email lists, outlook express, phones phones phones out for a contact you may never see again. Where'd the comradmanship go when working wasn't work it was fun as well.

To young ones rolling half empty water bottles down stairs, covering curious eyes with baseball caps, sneaking candy cookies cause you don't care about sugar high's or blood. Listen to your music "its good for the soul" but don't wear nice yuppie clothes to impress upon those older queers. Ice cream scoops to big to bear, make no sense to those that hear baffled cries of young mans rise, don't be afraid to be afraid. Young ***** hurt, I know.

City streets, and landfill pies, composting spoons made of tater starch, eating new foods crying old cries. Food too cold, too hot, too dry. Empanada's good, pork liver bad. These kids is cool, making something of themselves, talk to no one, no need just feel the vibe.

White walls dappled with texture, more appeasing for the eyes. A house with too many switches yet no lights, not enough lamps for more shadows and less tries. Floors don't need no wood laid out, concrete works, it's cheaper too. The house stays warm when your burning money for fire rather than cheap rides.

This is what they saw, just a new age, a new time. This is what I see, and why I sing, and why I tell you all of a decade which may never sleep enough to watch the old sun fall. Those dreams may be too real after all.

I hit a Jack Rabbit going sixty or seventy five,
I turned off the radio,
I was on the road for 18 hours already,
thats when shadows come alive,
I never hit anything before,
never killed anything that big.

When I was 14, I lived in Kansas, Kansas city granted,
but Kansas all the same.
We would go to my friends farm,
he owned enough guns for a small militia,
mostly shotguns.
There were 3 of us, with three scatter killing booms.
We would rake the fields to flush anything out,
crickets,
grasshoppers,
we hoped for ducks or quail
(I only pretended too, I wasn't sure then if my ***** really dropped)
and we would shoot,
Sometimes for the noise,
other times for the show.
I never killed anything.
On the way back home I saw a little chickadee perched high in a tree,
I shot,
and he fell.
"Nice one man!"
I ran over, hiding my tears, and buried him.
I got out of there as soon as I could, Kansas that is,
I was stuck at the farm.

Eight years later and I'm still not sure about my *****.
This time I didn't bury him.
I like to think it was male,
for some reason that lessens the pain.
I don't know if I crushed the life out of him quickly,
I imagine it was slow,
toturing myself with every detail as my retribution.

Made a nice thump though.
I could feel his delicate body even through the tire the shocks and the rest of the parts between me and his ****** corpse.

Softer than a speed bump.
Why did Dorothy ever go home.

I saw that butterfly explode,
I touched it,
I can't tell you wether it was suicide or homicide,
either way a sick grin crept along my face.

I knew I had gone crazy,
"but the crazies never know"
oh the crazies always do.

You may think it was only a butterfly,
caused by entropy,
or me,
itself.
But I'll tell you a butterfly means more than butterfly.
But I won't tell you what it means cause
I'm only talking ****.

Water bottles carry cancer,
food holds onto cancer,
we feed our livestock cancer,
we grow our fruits with cancer,
and I watch the beautiful explode.

Then again I think we should all explode a bit.
Maybe then we'd see our touch hits hard,
like mayonnaise on a mustard jar

the titles the ******* poem.

It used to be clowns,
those painted faces
and fiery hair.
Before the age of 12,
I realized I didn't want to grow up.
The rest of the kids
wanted ****
or girlfriends
and cars.
I just wanted to play.
Middle school
High school
then college.
Then tuition.
I stopped going,
I didn't care.
The norm didn't seem normal.
Why wasn't anyone happy.
Then it was food,
then politics,
conspiracy,
***,
myself,
love.
Then it was everything.
Then it was you.
Not having you.
Its always been not knowing.
Life.
Its so scary.
Is that why we drink and smoke
and inhale and inject and huff
and spray and play video games
and watch tv?
Is that why we settle?
Why we run away?
Sometimes it feels easier to run.
But then I never want to stop.
All my fears are catching up to me.
I'm so scared.
The little boy who searched for momma's hand
when the painted faces came giggling with
swirling eyes and demonic noses.
Momma come save me one more time.
Momma come save us all.
Sorry baby boy,
Momma ain't home no more.

a boys body needs no added stimuli,
karma sutra books
in the back of the barns and the nobles
have real pictures too.
these lil boys fall in love with pretty girls,
they tell them what they think they feel,
they feel what makes them think.
I heard once that a man only has enough
blood for one of his two heads.
To the pretty girls,
forgive these misguided boys,
their foolish words,
their hurtful lies,
they never understood the difference of love,
and a *******.
Cause once they get soft,
they'll realize which head was thinking,
then they'll hear which head was talking.
You might see a slight terror in their eyes,
maybe they'll act different.
As much as they'd like to say
"I'm sorry, I got *****"
they know they can't, granted,
us boys don't know much.
Yet *******,
is a hairy deed,
and we don't want our eyes to fall out.
Our fingers are only so fun for the first few years
of self discovery,
and then, call it man's nature, we get greedy,
we want more.
The subtle touch of a girls embrace,
white thighs exposed
criss corssing between our own criss crossed legs.
We also like the warmth
and the thump thump thump of a beating heart
against our ears.
We like the smell,
the salt
and the cries of any great sea.
Scream to us,
let us know we aren't demons
squeezing between the floor boards
for a wet ***** and a few moans,
we boys are lovers too.
Teach us how,
you don't always have to say no.

can you believe the world ends tomorrow,
it just started yesterday.
I forgot what happened today.

I don't care,
I just don't care,
not anymore.
I still do.
I just don't want to.

Sometimes,
I just want to cry,
but I can't,
and that makes me want to cry more.

0 you look like an o.
just a little bigger,
sometimes they have to cross you out,
you're so **** unoriginal
they have to cut you so your noticed.
At least they take the time.
0, you're not really a number on your own.
You symbolize nothing.
You are the empty street
You can count how many times I've been in love.
You remind me of my own regrets.
sorry,0, that was a lie.
If only I had 0 regrets just like you live a zero life,
I'm learning to forgive myself
to forgive others
to forgive.
0 hate
in a world filled with 0's.
You're kind of like a ******, 0.
but so is the o.
I still only kind of like you.

the queer, the strange, the walking live
in a world full of regret
of "why me's"
and "shouldn'ts" and "wouldn'ts"
but "still did".
They take one step ahead of the next
tripping on untied shoelaces
and ****.
I hear its like too much coffee
on an empty stomach
without taking a shower
for several days.
But you can't ever get enough,
Probably cause it numbs
those insides which feel too much pain.
But we got other pill pops
and nose blows
or smoked smokes
to drink away our dilated pupils.
We keep searching for that light
to wash out that we call sins.
In the east they call it karma,
Welcome to the land that doesn't care.
We got our own problems
problems which we make ourselves scared.
"Idiot"
and "if only"
but you can't go back, man.
No there's no going back.
So you spent your money,
and you never loved,
So you quit your job,
and you don't know what to do,
well neither do I.
One step forward,
maybe I'll tie my shoes tonight.

I could see him standing beneath the bridge,
dressed in blue and navy
cotton and denim,
his beard was long,
longer than your train
the train you had as a kid,
his beard huffed and puffed
telling the story of growing old
his eyes were clouds
floating on his face
and if he was angry only his nose would know,
bent and flat pushed up farther on the right
hung down lower on the left,
I only assume he had lips
and teeth,
only his beard moved
but he never spoke
beards don't speak,
he wasn't wearing shoes,
it was cold outside,
snowmen would melt,
but it was still cold,
It had just rained
I could see the puddles
but I couldn't see the sun,
This man saw nothing
he just stood there,
I just walked by.
I could see him thinking all the thoughts
we try to forget,
his face was wrinkled,
furrowed brows make the deepest lines,
a soggy man,
he ate enough or drank enough
i guessed,
because he was warm enough,
a thinking man,
what better place to think than under a bridge,
I'll call him the troll,
I'll paint paintings
and write with chalk
I'll make a memorial
for a man who's only a memory,
I saw him,
I can't forget,
This man will never die,
he'll last as long as the chalk on the ground,
keep thinking for us troll
thinking keeps the boy insane,
keep saving us troll
we can't do it we keep forgetting,
keep standing troll
cause we keep falling down,
be my savior troll,
and I'll keep walking,
just don't steal my ****

I see, I see it everyday. False smiles, different from the suburban trophy wife. These smiles tell their story. You've never seen these smiles, felt them? Then you haven't noticed yourself making them. "How are you?" To the cashier at the grocery store, followed by a smile. but really, you don't care how they are, your busy, I don't blame you, busy with nothing to do, I do it too. Simple hellos let others know your normal. What's normal? How many times has that argument been fought? 'what's normal'  I can tell you, but like anything, its all relative. Normal is being content having a good job holding some sort of stature being above those not normal keeping the social stigmas living them, naturally. I just realized I can't tell you what normal is without writing too much. Look at the magazines and those big T.V's
they can tell you better than me. But from what I told you... Being content. None of us are. You got yourself a good job, good job, you now have status among the living, good job, your not that alcoholic *** living on the streets, your not begging for change, you give it, not because you want to but to show that you have that to spare, good job, you are an outstanding citizen contributing the only way we realize how, by spending, good job, but, oh there's always a but,why, oh why the but, tell me my cups half empty, but I assure you sir, I've only drank a quarter of my coffee, my americano to be sure, in a 16oz cup to be surer, but to the but's, that is what we can call life, or reality. But what?! You hate your job and your bigger house only made you smile when you bought it and when you flush your demons down your ebony marbled **** catcher. I smile then too, the ladder that is and without the marble. but you still feel unfulfilled,
and still, yea, still, you don't know why, but your not content with not knowing, because then the boogie man is real and you look the fool, so we give our little smiles to tell the others "I'm normal" because we don't think we are. but, if they don't know,  then, its fine. But, thats not all. If you haven't noticed that 'habit' in you yet, then your smiling that same smile to yourself. Because if you don't know then your free. Free of the burden of fearing you don't know. Oh but brother, I don't blame you, no, I don't hate you, I do it too. I guess what makes me different is that I noticed. But, Does that really make me different? Does it really matter? I don't know. I don't know if I ever will. I'd like to say, "but thats okay" but my americano is almost gone, my cups about empty. If i was really content, then fear wouldn't be my 'companion'. Fear of money fear of love or lack of, really, fear of progressing, fear of failure, fear of moving back becoming less, not fear of death but of dying unnoticed. Fear of not being called of rejection of life. I've noticed, with myself, that when one fear grows strong, the other worries grow into fear, they rise to the surface, goop in my pores, suffocate me and I hear myself plea with death to take me so I won't have to take myself because everything would be easier done dead. But, I don't want to die, I want the easy button, but I don't want that,
but I do, then I get confused and lost in this push and pull which is my devil which is my angel tugging on my ears as i scream "Shut up! Shut the **** up!" Sometimes though, I remember to ask, to be honest with myself. Why am I  afraid? What am I afraid of? Is that really what I'm afraid of? Why am I afraid of that? Is it because of my past? Or because of urgency? I keep asking. Sometimes remembering hurts, but, thats how to clean your pores, I find it sometimes, sometimes i find what makes my devils grow. Most of the time I don't like it. Because I feel ashamed of it. Which is why I bury it deep. but, if you allow it to be, accept that it is true, to bare that shame. These fears are walls, friend. Pass through them. Are you still listening to me? Its okay if your not. Punch me in the ******* face because thats what you might think to do. Who am I to tell you your fears are just walls that rebuild if you break them down and close if you build doors, that these walls aren't solid, which is why you can pass right through them? Huh? Who am I?! I don't know. Just know though that I tell you to tell myself.
because I forget because I give better advice to others, because I should give that advice to myself, because I breathe, I think, I die.
We all die. But death is not different from life. Just like I am not different from you. But how do I know that when I don't even know who I am. Who am I but another but in life. I am that ant which carries the maggots, I am the creak in the door, I am why your car won't start, I am the sugar in your coffee, I am your god, I am god. But don't worship me. Worship yourself. you are the smell of the rotting trash.
you are the water we drink. You are god. Everything is. So what? So what's the point?To remember that we don't have to give each other false smiles anymore. The more of us that open ourselves, the more that will choose to open too. What does that mean? I don't really know. I have answers. But what are answers from another. An answer from yourself answers more. At least for me. Your worried if your right though. Right? Believe, Breathe, Be patient. Again, this I tell myself. Your still listening? Thanks. I end my rant to ****. Is that crude? rude?
But...