I wonder,
If the sunrise ever looks down on our inhabitants,
And holds it's breathe as the beauty of life overwhelms even that of the sky

Blow it all up
Bring it down
Cry revolution
And resolution

We are nothing but consumers
This is thanks to our fat cat groomers

All is not all available
All is not all tangible
Do you feel free?
We breath in the illusion of freedom and choice and safety

Are politics, the markets, the earth or the human race in a state of obsolescence?

Give them money and they'll call you 'Honey'

So competitive
So greedy
So destructive
So needy
Too Dominant
So corrupt
Too abundant
So let us disrupt

Unavailable everywhere
Nothing for all and all for nothing

The human race can design a precise regimented organization, with many cells capable of operating completely independent of central leadership to sustain and prolong the life of our race.

Ginger moon
Pulling the tide away
From feet soothed
By water.

I follow. Further down
The river bank.
Until I see her mirrored
By water.

Two moons, each to
Each other mere reflection.
True of all constellations.
By water

I ballance on wet rock,
Called closer unto
The silent circular siren.
By water

I am tenacious moth.
Leaving all other love behind;
It's her and I now.
By morning

I'll be gazing up at her too.
From next to her rippled
Twin. Nested; buried
By water.

I see the skyline of the city at sunset. Smoke from my cigarettes rises, Dancing around us.
We sit in silence,
Watching the sky darken.
I look at you,
Take in every strong line of your face.
I notice in the fading light,
Just how stunning your carmel skin looks intertwined in my milky white hand.
I inhale in the darkness,
Letting it envelope me.
Fireworks start to erupt in the distance. I exhale,
watching as they glow in sympathy. Stardust and sprinkling colors surround.
I smile,
It's so magical with our mountain view. You kissed me tonight,
as I thought you should.
Perhaps it was the whisky,
That made us so bold.
I don't know why it is,
That I couldn't help but kiss you back. Even though I knew,
It wouldn't last longer then fireworks and a cigarette.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about using every day.
I have dreams about those little yellow pills,
they don't speak to me,
or appear any different than they are in reality,
I just dream about holding them in my hands.

I couldn't do it,
recreational drug use.
I never could
no matter how many times I told myself I wasn't addicted, the truth remained
that I was.
I would tell myself "what kind of ******* is a drug addict, you're not, you're fine."
But I wasn't.
And everyday I have to tell myself "no, you cannot take those pills because you will not be able to stop"
Some days it ends there,
others I get as far as dialing my dealer's number.
Most days it's in the middle.

Being an addict is about having habits;
wake up, take three, (don't eat breakfast, the high will fade faster). Take four once the feeling leaves your legs, and four more before you go to sleep, so you can sleep.
Rinse and repeat; rinse and repeat.

Sobriety is the same way;
wake up, convince your self you don't need it.
Rinse and repeat as needed.

She helps, but she can't replace my addiction.
Although she gets me high, I can't become addicted to her, her lips do not have opiates hidden within,
but they have something better.

I don't think about getting high when I'm with her.
The high I get from her kisses is not dissimilar to that of methodone,
only their is no crash.
The high I get from caressing her thighs shares a likeness with *******,
except it costs love, not cash.
The high I get from hearing her gasp my name as our love making intensifies is very similar to that of hydrocodone,

only much, much better.

Companion
Keeping watch

Head in lap
Comforting

Puppy eyes
Changing minds

Bared teeth against
Danger or none  

Submissive
Loyal

The only company
I need. Hell,

Sometimes I feel like
I am my own
Dog

I am obsessed with my own mortality
or maybe the fact that I believe I am immortal
how could I die?
how could any thought of mine be final?
it can't just end
I wake up everyday
eyes peeled wide
and comfortably rise from where I lay

sure others pass
but they are not me
they don't walk in my shoes
they don't see what I see
they aren't special
and I am because well...
because I believe I am
I just know I can tell

but maybe there's truth to what they say
the groundwork which they lay
treasure life every second
because it could end any day
it's sobering
to think you're nothing but a ticking timer
that someday it will eventually end
that whatever you have won't last forever

Seek those tender moments,
embrace them with your soul.
Remember them for all their truths
before you grow too old.
Before you're lost to reason,
with a shield to hide the light.
Remember them for what they are,
they'll lead you to what's right.
What your vessel carries,
sometimes faulters
sometimes cracks,
but remember once you see the light
there ain't no headng back.
See light is sometimes handy,
when you've been basking in the dark,
but we should try remember,
just to listen to our hearts
If only everyone of us
could listen to our heart.

Riverside camp
Site plans.

Stones smooth from
Currents of centuries

Surrounding ditch
Dug for bonfire.

Driftwood shelter
Tied with fresh willow twigs,

Tiled with leaves and ferns.
Location for personal business

Decided upon and upheld.
The choice is mine whether to

Watch the weather, the fire,
The sunset and its mirrored twin

Where dinner skips for its own,
Or the spaces between it all.  

I have shovel, axe and a knife
As sharp as a scorned woman's

Tongue. Sleeping bag, and salt.
If the fish doesn't bite

I'll sleep hungry. No worry.
My surroundings always

Provide. They tolerate me;
I address them as I would

Any mother.

A confused magician,
I pull the rug out
From under
My own feet;
Remain standing,
Refusing to learn:

Nothing bruises your ego
Like your own
Bruised
Ego.

Singing in one ear, ringing
In the other.
Both drowning out
The voice of shouldered
Angels telling me
To let it go, just let
It go, little big boy.

A confused egoist,
I put rabbit after rabbit
Into the hat of my closest
Human relations,

And remain on stage
Until the last of
The audience
Has left, applauding
Their every step
Away from me.

Frailty, thy name
Is Pride. Another is
Demanding Respect.

Here, pick a card. No,
Not that. Another one.

Some of us spend lifetimes
To grow into
Lesser men than
At birth.

I go on my computer, to try and do something new
I try opening up the pictures that I once took of you

A bold message displays across my screen
"Error" it reads, I know exactly what it means

I guess what they say is true, it never processed in my head
Its hard to reach old memories
When someone you love is dead

When you take your first steps on that far distant shore
You might be hesitant,  nervous and wont travel very far
But people there will welcome you with warmth and open arms
So look at poetry as your way to open wide the door
And let this become one more step on another distant shore
No one here will mock you or cover you in scorn
If you hesitate to wander round new streets in early morn
Language is no barrier to want you want to do
Because poetry is our language so we will understand you
And so as the number of stamps in your passport grow you might become the one
To hold wide the door for the new and nervous poet first on a distant shore