Temple
               gold
sky
       blue
Buddah
                dwells
inside

you.

__
Photo:
http://beautyineverything.com/5054754830

My city has a heartbeat.
I can feel it thunder beneath my feet
as I race across her massive face.
She has a whisper, not a voice like we know it,
but a whisper always.
Telling me what she wants and
more so what she needs.
The wind, roaring through my city is her own voice
and instrument, it plays her mournful song.
The song has only three words in it's composition.
Vengeance, justice and hope.

Steam pours from the manholes,
distorting vision, adding one more
in an endless number of reminders that
my city lives, my city has a presence.
Has a pulse.

The gear, the pulsing brain of this
once airborne metropolis,
sits still against the night sky
she remembers as her former company.
Her companion.
From here, from this vantage point, I can see her.

She's more or less a mile,
in any direction from this point, long.
Her streets are a complicated maze,
a spiral built on a grid.
Her boarders are round. She was once known
as the circle city, another grim reminder
of her days above it all.
Within her boarders there are millions
of nooks and crannies. Hard to find, hidden away spots
that people can live in, work in, or hurt each other in.
Her people are aimless.
They are concerned,
they are worried,
but they are proud.
We used to be something,
and one day we will be again,
she will be again.

From here I can see her.
In her entirety,
like no where else in the
whole of her body.
She's beautiful.

Programmed to destroy 
Any inclination of affection,
A mindless drone, with no satisfaction
Losing ourselves
In a planned reaction
Where one cannot feel
Or understand the cause
That brought us
To the bed filled with flaws.
Is this our only chance
To possess each other?
Undress each other
Under the covers,
To deny the fact we are our past lovers.

The clouds are here to stay,
While the sun tries to shine
In this town that resembles
A snow-globe design.
The people are tormented,
And she is drunken in her disease--
A welcomed guest,who begs and pleads
For a savior that can save her.

The wind has died down,
It was once as sharp as the gods.
Cutting flawlessly into our memories,
And dancing away in the leaves.
Our bones remain, while our brain decays.
We used to stay up all night
Transplanting stories of when we ate the moon.
Creating boundaries, and passages
In the dark valleys of our past.
Where hatred is all that we crave
When we have made new homes in our grave.

The movement is rapid,
Going in all the wrong directions.
Overflowing promises
That only result in silhouettes of
All that I’ve tried to forget.
Trying to take hold of all that goes on,
But all that is in my grasp is the gun--
My finger already on the trigger. 

Now the demons have conspired,
They
          have
                    already
won.

I've noticed that I've stopped noticing;
The way I look at the forbidden face
And the way it looks at me
No longer stirs the heavens.
No sailboat turns on its heaving sea
When our corneas connect in a brazen
Fire, nor do any fidgeting mourners
Swallow graves over our crashing pink hands.
The tin-suited band piece has long ago
Replaced any emotion that could inflame
My cheek with a khaki cigarette smoke
And spun out days like empty bags.
     Still for the rainwater of his laugh alone
     Might I swim the Earth's crooked orbit.

My children will ask questions, “Why’d they stay behind?” I’ll tell them they liked the desert and had always hated white Christmas'. They’ll laugh. I’ll smile but stop after I think about the baking streets and buildings—the emptiness.  Every day for the last 200 years the news’ doomsday clock counted down.  Eleven billion people ignored it.

Burned inside their homes
knowing life had lost meaning.
Trapped forever.

Three quarters of the world watched instead of digging, building, saving, living just a little bit longer.  We had time, help and everything we needed to build The Underground.  But they said there was no point hiding from the horsemen. Life went on like cinema in fast motion— there was love still fighting behind the madness and dawning doom.

No flowers for you.
A feather to remind us
how birds used to sing.

She had striking wit and long blonde hair that made most people jealous—everyone cut their hair short because of the heat.  Today, it was announced that at our latitude, sunrise tomorrow, the surface will be too hot for human life. We held hands as we waited in line to enter The Underground and watched the sunset. I kissed her forehead.

That was the last time
It was only beautiful,
and stars would be seen.

As the last ray of sunshine touched her locks of golden blonde hair there was no sobbing, no weeping for we knew Earth was finished.  It was lost before the Sun gave up, to billions of bright galaxies glimmering so far from home.  Hope had hid somewhere in the vast void between our worlds, frozen and dying with every scientific discovery.

My children still laugh
and my wife will smile
just a while longer

transcending
this cocoon of flesh
all the trappings of walkway icons
gilded
like the ****** Marys of Constantinople
without the divinity of virtue
where is zen
in this jungle
of glass and steel
time in a bottle leaking out
with a faulty seal.
when will the turn of the wheel
bring happiness
instead of the wet blanket
of sorrow
following a path
down by the River of Tears
watching the Lily Maid drift by
wondering
where is my dress and veil
in the cards of the gypsy
will I ever reach
Shangra La

sticky grease monkeys gathered around my magical wheels of strawberry puddles...stroking the pit of bones and mud i found the triangle lock that holds together fountains of the golden castles...into the gate i ride with gears made from electrodes and synapses ...breaking fast to avoid the ***** little princess and her rotten tiara...why do the princes gather in ******* blue and black...why do the mud men rain ***** on all the free horses...why do the horse gather under rainbows of supercharged mold...puffy ******* explode into orange fissure inside the dragons arch...under it i pass with the giant peaches of all the kings gone by...they told me to ride my bike into the realm of forever...they said go to where the girl is standing sad... in her mouth is lights of broken bulbs...reach into the glass pieces and find the rectangle and you should be ****** into the universes of white hawks and grabbing children...play with them before they melt into angry adults forgetful of infinite imagination...tell them to make hand puppets out of red cans...and grease the cylinders with organic stew not synthetic fibers and intestines of optical wires...tell them stop...tell them there are places inside where you can dream all day as long... as long as you light the night with organic candles of soft ******* of pulsing energy...and take with you all if they listen and let the others play in the cold winters ..let them bathe in dirt water...let them eat the ashes of rubber and iron...tell those who only want to play that they can sing all night but don't tell them what songs to sing...they will not know what to do and will just stay or go away...with the ones who listen... show them the path and give them names like happiness and joy...and make them take the path with you only until theirs is ready...once they go their way you can go to the shore of the love bear and shave his back and turn the fur into little bunnies with bubbling eyes of shining trust...if all goes like you wish the keep peddling and ride your bike into the hole in your brain...

my eyes fell into my dreams last night...i searched for them for three million days...
i went to the halls but found only suits of rotten gold...i went to the movies but found only ******* with tiny worms *******...i went to the bookstore but couldn't afford to enter...i went to the cemetery and tripped over all the empty graves...i went to the city but couldn't walk because i was hit by three billion cars...i went to the schools but found only ear less teenagers with red bull smiles...i went to the lunchroom and smelled the greasy spoons...i went to the barber but to many hairs filled my mouth and made it hard to breath...i went to the swimming pool but found polluted water and oily animals devouring any leftovers...i went to the hillside but the view was blocked by tall black clouds...i went to the forest but fell into a plastic bucket...i went to the mountain tops but found nothing not even snow...i went to the valley and threw up on all the dead bodies...i went to the steppes and found robotic horses with glaring red eyes and really bad breath...i went to the hospital and found only sickness and no health...i went to the ocean but could not swim with the dolphins because they tried to eat my clothes...i went to the islands and found only weapons sharpened with blood...i went to the stars but could not see...my eyes have fallen and i can't pick them up...

Mesons, quarks, neutrinos, too
Drawn inexorably
Into eternity
To a finite point
Called singularity;
Rushing, streaming
Toward one juncture,
To a destination
With unknown structure.
Swirling, speeding
Into the abyss,
Reason, logic
Cease to exist.

Space and time
Merge in disarray,
Matter altered too,
No night, no day.
Warped, transmuted
Realities,
Become twisted, melded
Finalities.
Inconceivable dimensions
Reign supreme,
Nature’s laws violated
To extreme.

Crossing the event horizon,
No turning back,
Into the precipice,
Down a void of black;
Facing the vortex,
Light gasps in disbelief,
A terminal journey starts
Without relief.
Stars and galaxies
Give a sigh
As they spiral in
And begin to die.

One day we too
Will meet this fate;
The only questions are
The place and date.

The lion's breath abates at last.
Two pieces silver hold it fast.

Though a quick man saves it for me,
Only a rich man may set it free.

Darkened Tower beyond lion's teeth,
Rattles a sword in filthy sheath.

A rhyming, blind man speaks the truth.
Shame he cannot see the youth,

Nimble quick to steal his purse,
Quick with shame, sets lions forth.