Knowingly, he waits for innocence to end
His eyes, glossed with instinctual terror
Factually fearful of something he knows nothing about
And the arbiter watches, like some perverse anubis
Observing the process with no clear objective
Like a statue taking a liking to cigars
The arbiter wants only to see the end, having no conception of what it means

Innocence and snow, both gentle
Falling, for the rare and irreplaceable moment of suspension in open air
Innocence and The End, present for one another
Be it though, a meaningless meeting
Neither of them knowing how important they are to each other


If only I could sweet one, but I may only be witness
Im sorry if youre scared
But know that I am here for you, when soon, all will leave you

Innocence can only look back
With no life left to look back on
This visitation is all he has

The ground grows close now
Innocence does not know the end is real
The Arbiter stays close, remaining only of occupation
There are no Angels here for you now he says

It wont hurt, it wont be scary anymore, I promise
Go with no knowledge of your armagedon
Will not go unnoticed.

Innocence becomes more innocent once it is ruined
Once the fragile and immaculate has broken into a million pieces, is it truly recognized
As a limbo that was as beautiful as it was terrifying
Something so perfect it seemed as though all things were destined to break before it
A moment when the ground of the earth becomes the villain
Why would you do this to me? You ask
As the density of gaea stares back at you, poignant and all knowing

And when you have finally found solace in the bottom
When it seems all but impossible that you should fall further
The curse of time seems to swallow you whole
Bringing your shattered form to a hollow peace
Still; complacent in your new found pain
Surrounded by a void that lacks compassion
There are no victims here

Immediately the denial of truth
Denial of the fact that feeling overtakes reason
Replacing the knowledge that nature had put in you
About how very small and temporary everything is
Your broken biology still wrecked across identifiable anguish
And yet, you yearn for everything that hurts
Within the abyss, filled with both ending and infinite beginning
Only one constant remains; nothing


I want everything, here and now
I want everything so that I may never be fed this hurt again
Gluttonously we consume any and all remaining sensation
So that our new form, our new self, maybe be satiated
As it arrives, unwelcome, into this world
Eat, and fill
So that you may find normalcy in this new forsaken world

There is no me, there is no you
There is only the endless murderous maelstrom
Of life becoming unlife, and crawling its way back to the surface
Undermining and crusading all that has never felt pain
And as the innocent falls anew into the ever lasting caverns of hellscape
We are born anew

Destined to live and die a thousand deaths before our end truly comes
Predetermined to live by the inevitable
Tactfully designed to deceive, by any means, for as long as possible
Only then, having faced the grimness of truth
Are we completely human

Sleep does not come easy to me, if at all
Quite often i find myself merely in a stasis
Un-moving, un-thinking, muscles completely still
Dreams came to me often; before
Beautiful machinations of my subconscious would wing their way to the front of my eyes
Images of my once very real fears would mix and mingle with the deepest desires of my heart
The balance of waking mind given reckless abandon within the confines of my mind
Some nights i would see faces of people i have never formally met, but i would look upon them like ive always known them
Other times i would escape the tendrilite grasp of mortal life and i would be swept away into the air on gorgeous white wings; looking with my own eyes down onto the earth
And a few times i would feel, oh so vividly, the touch of a woman
My hands, much like talons, taking her like she was my own
Engorging myself with a rare opportune moment of per self centeredness and greed

However fragile peace may be, it was the last bastion of mortality i had
Fortune would not have it; i would never again have a dream
Sleep was the last to leave me
I cant remember the last time i shut my eyes
I havent a single shred of memory for what it is to awaken
A single notebook is all that remains of my dreams

And reading them has become a small, fleeting task
Something to simply fill time
For each time i do it, it is new
Reading a fraction of my former life is like meeting a stranger
In hopes that maybe the dream i share with all those around me will end
Someday i will wake up, and perhaps then i will die

Maybe when i finally forget everything, all things of what it is to be
Perhaps i will die, and be born again
I can only hope to awaken, to know that things have changed

Food is very clearly one of life's greatest pleasures
Before my immortality had revealed itself, when i could taste
I would eat the most delicious food
Flavors are something i miss the most
Roasted duck breast, brazed boar, steamed broccoli, sauteed mushrooms
Spiced rice, beef bourguignon, warm soft bread
The sensation of chewing, feeling sinews of meat rip and tear against my teeth
Letting taste fill my pallet
Feeling my belly fill with fresh hot food, satiating the human desire to feed
But many years ago taste began to abandon me
It maddened me; i gorged myself
Ate everything i could to try and taste
Drank far beyond when a normal man would have died
My appetite grew and went to strange places
Desperation consumed me and my mind caved inward
I began abducting people
Of vastly different ages
Having them eat food so that i may watch
Sometimes i would have them feed me
Eventually i turned to eating my victims
In a desperate attempt to gain my lost sensation
The young, the old, the unborn, the dead
My early decent into never ending life was a torrential madness
It ruined my mind
Only after having eaten my entire household inhabitants
Did i confront, no, transform into the entity i am now
Among very few things, I remember taste the most
But i miss it the least
A simple joy, lead me to the most distorted, darkest, insanity

The Immortal Melting Man no.5
On the rarest occasions I tend to wander toward the market
It provides me a mild form of entertainment
All ways of life flow through here
And i get to decipher what their existence means
I never buy anything, although the vendors and salesman
Try so very hard to get me to do so
Its simply astonishing the value people put in money, breathe taking even
One could easily argue its god made manifest
No one thing has lead to so much
Greatness, madness, death
Money is the most merciless of powers
It can even move land and oceans
Make anyone do virtually anything
And, so ive gathered, who so ever has the most wins the game of life
As if to say, i am god, i am the best, my life has value
As if to say, the very point of your being is measured in how many little green gods you can hold at one time

The Immortal Melting Man no.4
I visited my lovers grave today
Its been several lifetimes since ive seen her
A woman, among so many other humans, who inspired me to love
Her exuberance for life made me love her
And even next to her grave, weather worn and faded with time, the same sort
Of vibrancy, emanated from the gargoyle i had built to watch over her rest
I was not  in love with this woman
The sacrifice involved with being in love is so wasteful
I loved this woman
The mere fact she was alive, her mannerisms, her physical presence
She made want to love life and find joy in everything in it
As easily as waking up, i loved her
As effortless as winking, i loved her
For a time, my never ending life was synergistic with another, however temporary
But it has been so very very long
Time has robbed me of many things
The color of her eyes, the sound of her voice, the smell of her skin, the warmth of her touch
Her name...
The grave i made for her, is surrounded by so much beauty
Its a place that should inspire me and my memory, or what little remains of it
Among so many of the dead, i return to this spot once a year and stare at the patch of earth that holds my love
And i remember nothing more than the fact that i loved her

The other day i managed to find my old piano
I used to love writing music
Spending hours piecing together a melody that had always existed, i was simply the one writing it down
The ambiance of creation always seemed to waste away the inane presence of time
I would sit in the sun shining through my window
A drink nearby, and a fine cigar
That was many many years ago
The intangible joy that music used to bring me
Used to enthrall me with a vigor for life
As it is now, I can no longer feel music
I can no longer feel music
I am no longer taste the rusting bitter taste of fine ***
Or even mildly enjoy the smoke that sweetly, sickly framed my piano
The instrument had rusted over
Strings, composite woods, porcelain keys
All once pristine and prestigious
Now warped, split, and discolored beyond repair
Although I no longer recognize my instrument in the same way
I know it is there and i know i used to play it
Sadly the memory of music has all but tarnished in my mind
It is simply noise
Sounds arranged in order of severity
I find no solace in music
No relief in drink
And no tranquility in cigars
Feelings such as those are strangers to my life
Faded tarnished and distant
Like a stain of breath on a mirror
I cannot mourn the loss of these pieces of my humanity
For it was inevitable that time would take them from me

I am from
this is an assignment i had to do for my EDEC 250 class
its a poem about where or what im from. i chose a more vague approach. i try not to remember items that brought me to where i am now. but moments and feelings. im actually kind of proud of this.


I am from a blurry past
I am from moving too much
I am from sweltering heat, and bone chilling cold
There is no memory where there should be some
I am from motorcycles, loud noise, and rock music
I am from the justice system and the armed forces
My life has always been loud as hell itself
I am from a nasty divorce
I am from never settling in anywhere I’ve been.
I’m used to feeding on friction and surviving in fire
I am from a long drawn out story that ends horribly
I am from bullies, beatings, and badgering
Peace has never been a friend of mine
I am from sliding along rock bottom
I am from endless hate and cynicism
I am from the roots of pure evil within my own family
Truth be told I’m just a beast with a human heart
I am from finding strength I never knew I had
I am from standing resolute when I should have fallen and rusted away
I am from loyalty and boundless love
The rewards of perseverance far surpass any and all pains this world could curse you with
I am from watching my cold grey heart warm once again
I am from finally seeing how human and fragile I am
I am from Woodland California, where I was born again as a new human being
I am from the country side’s friendly solitude
Greeting me with the gentle arms of the sun
And breezes coolly kissing my neck and head
If I could only tell you exactly how I got here
If I had a dollar for every story I could tell you about my life
I’d have one dollar
I am from the liquor of life
And drink it in gulps

The Immortal Melting Man no. 2
I was witness to a birth
To the child of my last living relative
One final, feeble attempt to keep our withering family tree alive
A birth without marriage
A manic, desperate cling to legacy
So much hope, manifested in brand new life
Although the child itself was beautiful, birth and death have blurred in grandeur to me
All beings return to dust, with or without blessings from their intangible father figure
And this child would be no exception, i thought to myself
Seasons would pass, however many, and the child would grow, and then the man would die
Life and living to me, are as rocks are to the ocean.
Both just words, unyielding just as they are present and unchangeable
And i find it very odd, as the child breathes his first gulp of air and returns it as a squeel of primitive affirmation saying
i am alive; i find it very odd how no one person seems to truly appreciate their life until they are reminded of it
Even as i degrade, i know merciful death will not come for me
I envy the child
Life is a currency, meaningless and monetary
It is a liquor meant only for the mortal and flawed
Life is but one single dollar. Spend it wisely child.

The Immortal Melting Man no. 1
now before we begin. you need some context. i have been trying to not give context to my writing, and just let it be what it is. because i feel as though my writing and my feelings don't always need some kind of explanation. and i also feel as though giving some sort of forbearing warning to readers is mildly insulting. because all people need to be able to identify things, shapes, patterns; in order to....BE. so this of few occasions, i will explain you you what you must know to make this series im writing, make any sort of sense.

The Melting Man is an idea, a figurehead, ive always had to express and compress my creativity. to give the amorphous subjective thing that is my inner mind, an identity. a way for my never ending cynicism and intrinsic hatred for most things without losing my mind.

The Immortal Melting Man is a series i have begun writing in a way to express and share my thoughts. through a melodramatic, over  romanticized fashion. Imagine if you will, a man. ageless, undying, and seemingly untouched by the concept of mortality. his physical being cannot die. but parts of him can no longer sustain the demand put on them by an age far beyond the allowed limits. slowly but surely he is forgetting his many lives, and functions that you and i take for granted (things that make us people filled with life and compassion) are beginning to escape him. so ive written Melting Man in a way that suggests he is no longer human because he cant die, but he is still just flesh and bone. making him sit on the precipice; of god-dum. read on, its my current project. and i will happily share them with you.




I have seen a great many things
I have seen people, entire generations live and die
I have seen the grandest empires thrive and then burn to ashes
I have watched human kind grow so much
I was there as some of the greatest minds in the world were revered and then eventually consumed by time
Once i stumbled upon a wolf mother giving birth to a pup
She died the moment her newborn drew its first breath
Even though i knew i would eventually outlive this creature
I took him in as my own
It was a great many years i spent with my companion
I can still vividly recall the scent of his breath, and the luster of his coat
Though as i expected, he eventually died and i remained
Time is something i have no shortage of
And i am reminded of this each meaningless day
Most all people worry about how many hours remain in the day
They never consider the many facets of life all around them
Selfishness and greed are perhaps the greatest human flaw
Ive seen it burn legacies and empires alike
The Mayans, the Romans, the Ottomans
All grand and powerful
But like all things returned to the curse of time
I no longer know the joy of feeling
In my time of endless living, under the guise of so many different names
I can scarcely remember once good thing about human kind