You're warmer than amber and bolder you gleam,
You're as soft as my summers and sweet as my streams.
The lands of my youth and the Frazier turn black,
but for times that we spent there, I'll always go back.

I am the two tailed Comet.
I am the high and Low.
I am a wretch and Dragon.
I am a ghost of glee and Woe.

I am the perfect lover.
Who smiles with perfect eyes.
I am the imperfect lover.
Who's smile's a disguise.

I am the best at kindness.
I dream up fantastic dates.
I am, at best, the kindest.
But it seems my days come late.

I am your Master and your keeper;
Who pets you on your knees.
I am the crippled *****,
Who's rotted with disease.

But every side, both Green and Purple,
Shares a hue of deepest blue.
Every one of them is hurtful.
And hurts that it hurt you.

I have a ring for you.
It's snug and not too small.

You could stand within, if you wanted.
Just to try it out.....for a little while.

I'll trace it around you again on the pavement in thick chalk.
A bright scribbled line. A boarder. A castle.

I lean down. And start to dig. Until my hands bleed and the pavement gives way.
I'll lift the very earth beneath you and carry you away. For you were meant for daisies and better things.
This means I love you, in my language.  
You are my breath, and I'm going to stay here and breath deeply.

I'm fed up with your ten cent love.
I'm not fed up with trying.
Don't want more promises to lift me up.
I won't leave without rising.
when all you do is drag me down,
But I will hold you safe.
the earth has swallowed me whole and,
My arms were all your space.
you can't save me now,
Now I refuse to face it.
I'm fed up with your ten cent love,
Then it's overdue I change it.
Empty dinner tables, refill my cup,
I'll pour you shared-sip tea,
I can't wait at this bar alone another hour,
Then leave, and wait with me.
I can't watch my heart crumble anymore,
I hold it safe and patch it,
So pack up your bags and go with the wind,
I won't, but I will catch it.
to where ever wind should take you,
I think it's blowing north.
Don't make it bleed more than it has to,
My blood will run it's course.
Because I'm dying anyway, and my soul
is at the bottom,
I won't let you fade away, and my hands
will break the coffin
of a jar of pennies I'll use till sunset
to get me by
You can tell that we're not done yet,
By the blood red tears I cry.
Don't make me beg, don't throw another dime
in my direction, don't try to buy something that
you cannot afford
**I would never let our house of time,
Or familiy collapse.
The final word.

Soft Rabbit Paws,
Curling like waves.
Spring Delights.

Your voice is my favorite song.
Your scent is my favorite meal.
Your touch is my favorite vacation.

These are tired truths. And in some ways, those are deepest.

It's midnight and I love you.
In two hours, I will tuck you.
In one sleep, I will kiss you, with lips thankful, strong, and warm.
In two sleeps, I will guard you, 'gainst the rising summer storm.
In three sleeps, I will claim you, and never mar your skin again.
In three weeks, I will change who, you thought was in your Man.

I've spent four years in mourning, and eleven months in dread,
While the sliver sword of Damocles, dangles over my head.
I haven't slept enough or stayed consistent, falling on my heels,
But I've wept enough, and stay insistent, that my love is real.

I'm not selfish, I'm just sorry.
Like a blackfish pair upon the tide,
We're hurting cause the world just doesn't care what is inside.

I'm with you till the end, and then I'll carry you through the dark.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you. Your heartbeat is my art.

Do you ever feel that voice?
On the edge of your subconscious,
That haunts your every choice,
And stings when you're not honest.

Not a Demon or an Angel,
To sit perched upon your shoulder,
To make you act unfaithful,
Or to turn a new leaf over.

It doesn't ask for Victory,
Fame, or ***, or Wealth.
It's a deep internal liturgy,
That demands you Know Yourself.

For when you tell that single lie,
That 3 jellybeans is 4,
You've opened up a wound inside,
And can never shut the door.

Our voices are not voices.
Stop talking to yourself.
A subtle sign of your insanity,
When it only says, "Farewell."

There once was a Rabbit who lived by a stream,
She supper-ed on salads and drank up my dreams.
She fed on the promises painted with oils,
But salad like dreams in the long winter spoiled.

Princess, I need you; you know where we've been,
I must dress you and press you and rub you down clean.
You are that girl, Rabbit, who sits among Royals,
You live as my breath, and this life's mortal coil.

She rolls in the plover and soft grasses green,
The Willow folk watch her, they laugh and they lean,
Then it's off to the garden, and therein to toil,
Pluck out Four Carrots and set them to boil.

A soft little life is all that we both need,
You're an end to my wandering, my suffering, my greed.

End a man?

Sure why not.
Show him to me.
Let me bury a sword in his chest or a bullet in his brain.
Let me feed him secret poisons and beat him with blatant fists.
Let me choke him snugly so I feel this whisper of his life as it departs.
Just let me at him.

Oh.
You meant, "Have you ever?"

In that case...
No.

I'm drunk.
I'm drunk on a rooftop.
I'm drunk on a rooftop overlooking the city.
I'm drunk on a rooftop overlooking the city at peace.
I'm drunk on a rooftop overlooking the city at peace and in love.
I'm on a rooftop overlooking the city at peace and in love.
I'm overlooking the city at peace and in love.
I'm at peace and in love.
I'm in love.

The Lady is a month to me, A title and half her name;
Her mask sustains the mystery, the beauty beneath the chains.

The pompous men explain, about Christ in all his passion,
But they know not the pain, of a life spent folding napkins;
To serve and serve in silence, with no whisper of complaint,
The quiet of a painting and the patience of a saint.

Hold her petals gently, lad, but the stem you must grasp firm,
My Rose, a perfect pupil, never shy to grow and learn.
I'm sorry if I crossed you, it was only with respect,
As every rogue treats treasure, we must mark it with an X.

I could only give you words, and sadly I have known,
In truth what you deserved, was a kingdom of your own.
The maid will get her palace, and her carpets crimson red,
Fine wine in her chalice and gold ropes around her bed.

But first, we'll to the ballroom, along paths with gems inlayed,
The bedding will come later; there's other games yet to be played.
We'll dance there, Miss December, On the garnet tiled floor,
And every stance of mine will render, Love incarnate; underscored.

I know I wasn't perfect. No, your Highness, not the best,
And though I haven't earned it, for your kindness I was blessed.
So now lend your Bard his drummer and he'll sing for you a tune,
Compare your eyes to summer, if your name was Lady June.

Yet, I think the winter fitting, and I do not mean the cold.
For I'm on concrete city benches sitting, dreaming of your soul.
I sit beside a western shore and look at western seas,
The water has no more joy for me, the Lady's in the East.

The poem turns to rambling, but I'm half-drunk and it's late.
I only hope she's understanding, what my garbled words would state.
You know your Master's only letters, not a thing to see or feel;
And though I can't do better, at least for me, the words were real.

There once remained a little rose,
That danced within the wind,
That stripped the petals of its clothes,
And washed it in it's sin.

The flower stood more naked,
With it's secret places bare.
But the plant was most mistaken,
if it felt the slightest scare.

To be bare is to be brave,
or so the wise men said,
In the words upon the page,
Left written by the dead.

That little rose is spinning,
as I twirl it in my hands.
I can feel what is beginning,
Though I cannot understand.

I pinned the rose upon my chest,
and walked among the throng,
It made me feel my very best,
though all the red was gone.

But petals are for luring,
all the hungry little bees,
And secret places are a pure thing,
and they belong to me.

Tonight was staged a great decoy,
The festive focus of our joy.

Men set aside the hostile ax,
And all obeyed the solstice pact.

I sought warmth from that common hearth.
To briefly stir my sorrow still heart.

I drank, I feasted, and I carried on.
Am I still here with Christmas gone?


I am contained on a white blank page;
With all things finished, no thing obtained.

Clouds surround and weather worsens,
Love, for warding, draws the curtains.

Coldness deadens my silent shout.
There's warmth within, but I'm without.

The Great Game is played; I a pawn.
Am I still here with Christmas gone?


I knew I'd have to pay my debt,
In bleeding either clear or red.

I chose to weigh with crystal tears,
An empty penance, they appeared.

But selfish flesh cannot continue.
Life's a stage; Death's a change in venue.

I flee from fate, myself withdrawn.
Am I still here with Christmas gone?


As if by some celestial force,
My choice seems bound to run its course.

I'll let my form be dashed and skewed,
Ere' ever I yield my love untrue.

From first breath I knew my part.
Child with a candle in the stormy dark.

Now Ravens crow the silver dawn.
Am I still here with Christmas gone?

Welcome,

Ladies and Gentlemen,
I'm preaching a lesson,
And the merest mention,
Might cause social tension.

We live in an age of,
New things, super computing,
Mood rings, school shootings,
Fast Commuting, Mass Polluting

If you've got a question,
You should try and ask it,
Try and draw attention to,
Oceans full of grime and plastic.

Drastic measures are needed,
Why can't they see it?
We poison the earth,
And then try to seed it.

You might choke from the smoke,
Everyday Beijing breathing,
Our enemy is cloaked,
But free eyes see him.

Squeezing the last drops,
From the planet won't work because
Before the last's tree's chopped,
We have to plant with love.

Now who are these men,
With the Greatest greed?
Depriving people with a pen,
Of their basic needs.

The proceeds of their misdeeds,
Flow back to the system,
The corporate creed,
Profits off human divisions.

Listen by this time,
We've all had enough of it,
The mind control message,
Still tells me, "I'm loving it!'

Our generation is facing
Annihilation in our age
But the politicians on stage
Fight about the minimum wage.

Debate over free-speech,
Is finished we won it,
We won't get arrested and beat,
This isn't a G-8 summit.

Don't sell your life to the Company,
For a car and a home,
Claim your right to be a somebody,
Your life is your own.

I find it sad and pathetic,
People are attracted magnetically,
Or genetically to create,
Something we can't see.

A father in threes,
Behaving apologetically
and ethically correctly,
Directly see the universe's apathy.

People always have faith,
Governments will save us,
But at a suitable date,
won't hesitate to invade us.

Everybody's cynical,
About the media.
Remaining uncritical,
Of internet encyclopedias.

Obedience Blind,
Is worth less than nothing.
Read, think, search, find,
Catch the fake world bluffing.

There is a solution,
You can break their control,
You heart starts the revolution,
Save your soul.

I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
No one’s praying to God when their duty to truth hasn’t failed.

No one’s praying to God if you’re the doctor threatened with ****** for abortions you perform.
No one’s praying to God when you’re accused as a witch and the holy-fire at your feet’s getting warm.

No one’s praying to God when medicine stops the disease that uncontrollably spread.
I wasn’t praying to God, when it was time for my heart to break and the pieces are still aching.
I wasn’t praying to God when I saw from mountaintops the natural wonder of this land.
I wasn’t praying to God when the times were bad, better, or good.

But God isn’t funny
When government leaders say they hear the words that he spoke,
Or when the faithful say he hates us, internet decapitate us,
Bar atheist from running nations though we’re just normal folk.

God isn’t funny,
When Religion’s given money just so others can pray,
But instead try humanism,
Give the people penicillin,
Clean water, food, or a place to live in but,

Hunger isn’t hilarious.
Ha Ha
Ha Ha

I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.
I won’t be praying to God when my mortal heart finally fails.

No one would pray to God if they realized heaven’s not there when they finally close their eyes
I don’t pray to God, I won’t take false comfort in lies.

But God isn’t funny,
When people use his views to deft scientific proof.
Pronouncing old conclusions, renouncing evolution,
If it’s faith or truth it should be easy to choose.


But God isn’t funny,
When he gives false hope to the hurting and bereaved,
And it’s goes without saying,
If you’re a different faith or gay then,
We’re all peace and love but you’re not in the club.


Doesn’t sound so hilarious


I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.

I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.

I didn’t pray to God in the hospital.
I didn’t pray to God in the jail.

Mister God look at your people they’re starving, freezing, diseased, or so very poor.

No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
No one's laughing at God
Laughing at the sky is odd.

Come lay with me within the glen,
And all the valley be your ken,
Then acquire all within your sight,
If you will offer the same right.

Possess the flowers, grass, and sun.
Of all these things, I will have none.
I choose the prize of greater worth;
Like choosing heaven over earth.

In this land flowers always bloom,
A summer long that cometh soon.
But flowers soon will fade to gray,
When they against your merits weigh.

In this land grass be always green,
Always shine with beauteous sheen.
Yet the garden field has a lesser gleam,
When matched with thine face, it seems.

In this land, the sovereign star,
Can ner' by the clouds be marred.
For though the day's eye casts its light,
Thine eyes strike me as far more bright.

My bargain to trade nature's gifts,
A deal as such I would make swift.
Instead of flowers, grass, and sun;
For you, three I would trade for one.

This night’s task is surely daunting:
To cure myself and stop the haunting.

Reach arm,
Where is my nightcap?
(A single drink will do no harm)
Twist hand,
Turn down my bed flap.
(No chill shall cause myself alarm)

Look eyes,
Seek that light switch.
(I cannot bear my visage longer)
Be still fingers,
Cease to shake and twitch.
(Of their agency I’m not the author)

Move legs,
Plunge into covers,
(Lest you carry me from this rest)
Deaden ears,
Your hearing smother.
(Let no sound disturb my final quest)

Drink throat,
Imbibe the potion.
(Solutions will come at last)
Halt mind,
Not one more notion.
(Devilish memories long past)

Quite heart,
Take respite from beating.
(All the world begins to swirl)
Escape life,
I’ve finished breathing.
(Past Pain’s deep bonds at last uncurl)

I thought joining my love would be better,
Now we two haunt this place together.

I am the jug that has been discarded,
I have tumbled down to the marble floor,
From the drunkard’s slack hand I have parted,
Hit the ground and rung hollow to my core.

I am the sky each dawn that paints the day.
While below men toss to me their prayers.
With thunder and lightning I try to say,
My air is vacant; your God is not there.

I am the cavity in a young boy’s chest.
In which compassion and joy did once lie.
What once did beat is now laid to rest,
You can hear it in the bare cavern, cry.

With love, prayers or drink your mortality escape.
I choose not surrender, the bare bodkin I’ll take.

Love means: no surrender;
No weapons thrown to the ground,
Don Quixote charging windmills,
Just to knock the giants down.

Love means: no more evils;
No more swallowed poison pills,
Men taking deadly medicine,
But it won’t cure the chills.

Love means: coming back again;
Never having to abstain,
From every sweet indulgence,
You never can contain.

Love means: the Heart’s evince;
A radiance not know here since,
A true mind took the blade,
And the bodkin took the prince.

Love means: no masquerade;
All our truth on Parade,
You don’t have to take the cross,
But you can’t stop the crusade.

Love means: No more loss;
All deep chasms bridged across.
You can still blow out the candle,
But you can’t switch it off.

Love means: souls entangled;
Entwined as dangling bangles,
Draw about your neck,
All other feeling strangled.

Love means: complete respect;
Unconditionally, you needn’t check.
Undeniably, we all need it.
Unconsciously, you feel effects.

Love means: The grand idea;
Conquering without fear.
And until Maria returns to Judea,
The truth is: Amor vincit omnia.

O Nature, your delightful changes,
Would shake the very heart of man.
The weather turns like parchment pages,
Flipped, as per the Deity’s plan.

What does better show your grandeur,
Then that most brilliant autumn,
Cloaked in shining gold and amber,
And each tree a glistening column.

When the summer’s spirit sleeps,
And the sun forgets his haste,
The trees begin to weep their leaves,
As Winter quickens up his pace.

Still no matter how the seasons change,
There’s not one, I’d for Fall exchange.

Sisyphus, my brother.  This rock you push is a great weight to bear. It is too much and too little.

What is this Rock?


Sisyphus, my brother.  Who can speak to you of toil? Who can claim your lack of will to be your restraint? That same rock to be pushed and rolled for time immortal is all that you have known. The rock is all your focus, all your desire. It is the world to you, in one indifferent globe. You have no thought of food, nor drink, nor rest, or other pleasures of this life. You know only your task and your object. The hill is of no consequence. The days spin past without you taking notice. Time is of no consequence.
What is this Rock?

Sisyphus, my brother.  Who can speak to you of futility? Who can claim your time is productively spent? You, who roll to the top of that grim mountain the same heavy stone; only for it to roll from its’ perch to the stopping spot from whence you hauled it. With each day and each night you strain to force your task onward. Each drop of your sweat becomes a testament to your duty. Each drop a second. Each second soon forgotten. No matter what you could endure, the charge of yours remains the same. Your stone must rise. Your stone must fall.

What is this Rock?

Sisyphus, my brother.  Who can speak to you of Fulfillment? Who can claim you are a man whose soul is empty? You, who look each day upon that same destiny without hesitation and without grief. Never have you turned from that same monotonous fate to other horizons; but have remained bound to it. Other men seek escapes and new journeys. They seek new faces and new glories. They want for gold and flesh and praise. You, who have none, do not grieve for them. You have the stone. And the stone must be lifted. The stone must be pursued. The stone gives life meaning. The stone gives life purpose. The stone banishes all doubt, all fear. The stone alone has worth. The stone alone has truth.

What is this Rock?

Sisyphus, my brother.  The Rock is Love.

I walked the lonely mountain Eyrian path,
To the chasm beyond the hills.
In that deep wretched dark I could find him at last,
I know the Devil dwells there still.

I marched through boulders and sharply jagged rocks,
I went down twixt walls of stone.
It seems in seeking the key I’d found the lock,
I first noticed I was alone…

I expected He’d be ringed in brimstone and fire,
To roar and imbue men with fear.
Epiphany thwarted my hell-bound desires;
The Devil had always been here.

There as I stood in the chasm alone,
I found what I knew to be true,
Realization wracked me to the bone,
Hell is to be without you.

I heard the great tumult of noise,
Ranging from the hills of Troy,
I head Amnon’s earnest whispering,
At the banquet of the king.

I saw the stark white midnight sun,
Blind Edward John Smith on his run,
I saw John Franklin not think twice,
Before he too was claimed by ice.

I was there the fateful day,
That earth and fire claimed Pompeii,
I was there as horizons shook,
And the sand Valdivia took.

I felt Isolde’s deep pain forlorn,
As Tristan from her side was torn
I felt Young Werther try in vain,
With love in heart but lead in brain.

Yet knowing grand calamity,
I sought naught but serenity.
Longing for love, as life depends.
My suit is cold, as so my end.

Watching life’s play,
From the nosebleed section.
If I die today,
It’s natural selection.

I hear what people say,
But don’t make the connection,
The past fades away,
To a vague recollection.

99 problems,
No retorts or solutions,
Trying to pay my bills,
Without resorting to prostitution.

Losing is a life lesson,
Hard to learn,
It’s a truth I mention,
In no uncertain terms.

They say if you get knocked down,
Get back up,
But sometimes when I’m knocked out,
I’ve had enough.

My drive and ambition,
Is out of gas,
But I’m stuck in my position,
Can’t change the past.

They said, “It’s okay chum,
There’s a future to make.”
But no, it’s okay son,
I choose not to partake.

I’m on the road of life,
Just taking a jog,
But I can’t run right,
Cause I’m an underdog.



I know I’m not perfect,
I’ve made mistakes,
But I really do deserve it,
So give me a break.

Girlfriend told me,
I’d never succeed.
I choked at her,
Cause I forgot to breathe.

I was told to walk,
Off the beaten track,
I talk one step forward,
Then whisper two steps back.

I’ve been made a fool,
I’ve played the clown,
I never broke the rules,
But I still broke down.

When I look in the mirror,
To examine my features,
It brakes when brought nearer,
So I pick up the pieces.

You know I don’t deal,
In self depreciation,
So what you find here,
Is honest estimation.

I’m not clever as Copernicus,
Or strong as King Kong,
Even when you’re learning this,
You knew it all along.

I’m on the road of life,
Drifting through the fog,
But I can’t see tonight,
Cause I’m an underdog.

I used to march past the days,
Now the days march past me.
I used to shape and mold the clay,
Strange,
- How the clay mold’s shaped like me.

There used to be a song about me,
Now I’m the only one who sings it.
Last April’s trap was set for me,
Strange,
- How I’m the one who springs it.

I used to be less lonely then,
But now the world’s too crowded.
I won’t see Sun in the rain again,
Strange,
-Now the summer’s clouded.

I used to dream of things to come,
Of all the words yet to be said.
Now I only dream of what’s been done,
Strange,
- How waking makes sleep dead.

I used to live a happy life,
You can measure it in tears.
If you can still weep you know not strife,
Strange,
- Now my eyes are clear.

I used to fill the air with sound,
All the while saying nothing.
Silence now seems more profound,
Strange,
- I’ve had enough of bluffing.

I used to look at Stars above,
And wonder on their purpose.
A dot of light: not hope or love.
Strange,
- How blessings turn to curses.

I used to live inside a book,
Perhaps too much, I feel.
The book inside me’s been unhooked,
Strange,
- What truth fantasy reveals.

I used to have an open heart,
Poorly partnered with closed mind,
What’s left open soon falls out and apart,
Strange,
- Their position reversed now, I find.

I used to love a fiery girl.
I know that love was true.
Now I chase the past in a broken world.
How Strange,
-To say adieu.