The driver
she wears mascara
the
last remnant of her humaness
she's always been a
little blessed
she's met her death
many times.

You can hear
her coming on
the winds
freight train sounds
through the Jeffrey Pines
this train isn't
Bound for Glory
this train's bound
for eternity
a one way
ticket with
no return.

Though I've always
rooted for reincarnation.

This train
stops for gamblers
midnight ramblers
**** addled ******
addicts caught between
nodding out and cleaning
the refrigerator with a tooth brush.
Even saints on board will stay.

The oblivion express
your going to hop
on board when your
ticket is punched,
the ticket taker
laughs and smiles
his last glimpse
of humaness.

She's the driver
he's the turnstile
they were once
an item
before they were delivered
to their
new careers
never to see each
other again
except through the
glass of her engine.

The fire is stoked
the express becomes
a local
stopping for each
and every
daily passenger
you can hear that
whistle blow.

You don't know where you're
headed
you just know
you gotta go.
Her mascara drips down
her face
you and she
the ticket taker
too
there is no escape
the oblivion express
just around the corner
and
on its way.

I have within me,
wrapped around my heart,
certain kind of feelings
which words failed to explain.

"                                                           "
Within my dreams Illuminated

Galaxies travel across Fiery dark canopy

Maybe the Traumdeutung is too much

Of a work before day's work Begins

Above us is also below Us dormitory

Dreaming of our luscious Bodies entwined

Riding each other as Universe was a Wild

Splendid stallion stampeding through Open Space

And her sacred blood turns into the salty Waters

Upon his black neck caressed by the noon

Beneath hot eruptions of Sun's squared light beams

Beneath his magic ebony knited untamed mane

Covering by his pace awaken eyes thirsting

For crystal cold waters deep in the distance

Feeling the pull of a mirage flickering

In the deserts of life; each one crying

Howling alone to the full Moon

Singing to us with strange allure:

"Fairy tales do come True. . ."

*We have to believe!

Counting stars to all
    the ways
you broke my heart