amaninthe minuteso
notthinksoftomorrownopause
bravesliketenfeettallbecause
­hewastoldfromthebeginninning
spaceshavenomeaning
placeyourselfinh­isrythym
fuckitallhistestosteroneandbourbonsays
fuckmesaythecops

it was suggested
that there be no nexus
between texas and your pal-
omino - tagging the alamo, **?

en el barrio, yo(u)-
and your gringa  homecoming
queen in tight-assed jeans
-running with ms-13?

-playing twister with your hipster
sisters misters smith & wesson
oiled up and and ready to go
- new mexico?

i found you in tres piedras
at a place called ortega's
eating huevos rancheros
- shooting jose cuervo?

-muthafucka mara salvatruchas
in a red camaro and two bruthas
on a burro with bow and arrows
-stole your palomino?

-they shoot horses
don't they?

riding the black el camino
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/30/14

Your eyes-
coal black fire
mirrors of my desire

Your mouth-
warm bath of oaths
bespoken for

Your *******-
rouged red-bullet tipped
honeysuckled bliss

Those hips-my reins
move you the way
I need you most

and your kiss-
like a hiss from a dip
of a branding iron

burn me with your lips
and make me yours-
ride me into the abyss

-of sighs.

r ~ 9/25/14

you came to the rodeo
with your latest portfolio
of sidekick apparatchi(c)ks

colorful lily - a realpolitik mariposa
and gloriosa - tall like a ponderosa
while i rode the appaloosa-
cool like - little joe

do they make you hum
a sweet song like i do?

sitting on your spanish saddle
booted to skeedaddle
when i beat the buzzer
while buzzards circled-
beneath a purple sun

you came that time
when i rode
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/24/14

my bones are twisted. the
skeleton cracked at year thirteen
with what could only
be age or agony-
probably a gnarled collaboration
of the two.

i think i've been twenty-one
since i was born; at least, that's
what every teacher i've ever had
thought of me: "mature for her age".
so did every ****** guy high off of
green smoke with eyes glazed over in

lust, either staring at me or straight
through my jeans, whistling and howling
like wolves with blood dripping
down their chins and claws
ready to ****** something already

gone.

i think that's why i died young.

immediately all is apparent,
acceptance
is a hard thing to do,
for all my clouded vision-
cataracts, astigmatisms,
religion, relevance make
me impotent,
to forgive, I rage and want revenge.

I breathe in, meditate
and still thru conditioning
see red and blue
blow upon the memories
of smoke filled rooms where  I breathed the poisons.

I cannot do anymore.
I want to once rage and solve it
but my problems
are in the way. As I seek
it is I
I see and I
and the world were meant to be-

****** up.

Where are the outreaching hands today
Where are the smiling faces
Where are the steady feet and the bright eyes

I dream to dream today
I dare to believe in happiness
I will sing today, one note higher
I will touch hearts and mold memories to be thankful for

Where are the kind words
Where lie the poems of beauty and nature, nurture and soul

I promise light today
A sliver of hope across a sea of dreary stillness
Today, I draw a new breath, fill my lungs with joyful whispers

And your ears are the target

I love you all

She read my journal
My internal thoughts spewed out of her mouth like *****.
Anger. Regret.

I saw him as a book then
And he was easily read
Flipping through his memories, I found tainted history
Tears

Oh, woe is me
this girl, she knows everything.
My incestuous mind
unkind and dark
genuinely written without hesitation

Yet here I stand
Confused, taken aback
Stricken with...
...curiosity, perhaps
Sadness and unknowing
And his eyes apologize while his frown regrets

Perhaps she now feels closer.
There's nothing to hide inside
A relief.
I am disgusted by your actions.

I wonder if he still loves me
He won't take the words back
Ink never erases, and scars remain
And so does my heart
Rooted to my sleeve yet chained to his palm

"I'm sorry", I forget to say
Words so typical end up filling the room
breaking all glass
You made me like this
my words are a byproduct of your insanity
You're sad.
Yes, sad. We are all sad.
You are not entitled to read such things
wretch

I peered into your soul today
Something twisted and half alive
Fault?
A face, my face to place blame
I'll never walk away
Without another war wound
But I'll bleed you dry
Should I question morality? Am I human?
What happened to us?

You seek knowledge, yet cower in its presence
" all loving" I mock the idea
for you despise my words.
My work.
What are they, but a part of me?
Your voice is timid
Your despair, unsettling..
speak

Silence is all I want to hear anymore...

Viking ground. The belly of
Norway. Music like thunder
Keeping whole villages awake.

Swords, spikes, norse jewelry
And black, black metal
Of the kind that honours

Those who were here before
These hundreds of metal heads
And contemporary heathens.

She works in the beer tent,
Throwing long gazes my way,
That I return.

She took
Me
Here.

Stars above a stage lit with a
Thousand shades of neon that
Emphasize the

Ground locked mist; breath
Of Odin and His believers.
I love this music; this brutal

Noice within system. I love these
People. They seem scary from
Afar, but share a brothership

Within their worship.
Enslaved is one of the most
Famous bands within the

Genre. The guys still join the
Roadies, clearing the stage
From their gear.

all these years
of digging square holes
and i still don't know
why we stopped building
round houses

a mindset
is a terrible thing to change

square houses, graves
and hospital corners
are harder to maintain

circular places
make an impact
less direct
and more peaceful

an earth lodge
on the knife river
can teach us
to feel at home

we lose sight
of small things forgotten.

r ~ 9/11/14