he was arrogance
lightning wrote his name
in the black spring sky
thunder spelled it aloud
under wakeful eyes
frost splintered the ground
in brilliant white

later
a little rain fell
in a field of cornflower blue
and muddied the quiet path through
the world no longer ice-kissed,
the season flowered unforgiving
then
he was melancholy

I don’t have to tell you what you mean to me
Because my roots extend all through your life
You can feel the way I draw upon the water
And drop my anchor where love slays strife

Where the soil parts my thoughts become yours
I grow inside the shadows and light of the forest
And though I may be what someone else can see
You are the space where my soul is nourished

But every second I exist within you creates a new life
That is where I find the meaning to live another day
Not in falling leaves that bury memories of yesterday
For my heart is only felt where my roots forever lay

There is an answer
to why every privileged
******* can't write;

They talk of heaven,
they preach about angels and
how they might sing, yeah,

but haven't seen one.
They haven't listened to them
and cannot hear them.

***** rhetoric
applauding their enclosure
as the door closes.

Brain dead featherweights
tethered by their bibles and
white supremacy.

"Ideology"
cult of the soul without a
purple beating heart.

***** rhetoric;
repeat Frances Scott Key and
emphasize landscape.

We've all seen the fields,
we know how green the grass is,
and how blue the sea.

Biblical visions;
worship "democracy" and
call your leader "king".

"ideology"
a mask for supremacy.
***** rhetoric.

You're going to choke
and you can't have the angels
after you **** them.

racing across the moon
hopeful, distant and new
dancing with an old love
hopeful, shiny and blue

/alarm clock 6:30/

where did you leave me friend?
the bus don't run this far
where did you hide it? I've
never met a lonely star

I wish I were holding
you tight/ I wish you were
holding me tight tonight
I wish my love were here

The vindication of violation,
is etched in our ecstasy.
The insatiable invitation
Looks on longingly,
to be accepted with no exceptions.

Twilight tinctures transforms
to mild midnight musk
by anatomical alchemy warm
In the dark discord of dusk
Our communion is calculated.

Only hedonistic heat
can melt the polite pretense,
Our dialogue is discrete
Left in static suspense.
I dissolve into your delirium.

The intimate impalement
gives way to grotesque gratification
To cure the ancient ailment.
We ignore the implications
Of this meeting meaning more.

As I ride to robust rhythm
My ****** is chaotic
Our communion is christened
in a cry exhausted and ******.
The vulnerability is voided.

Sanguine sighs give way to
Languor in sated lust.
Sweat drops like dew
Upon my breathing bust.
The distance develops once more.

Coming of age becomes
temporal, when
I start to speak.

It was my ancient wound―
which had come into being,
to bleed.

No mannerism,
idiosyncrasy or culture
was needed to stay dumb.

Time runs in a
narrow tunnel, to cross the enemy lines.
I will unmourn my death.

Like collecting the bluebells.
After the burial of candor,
there was no other ceremony.

I think I'm going to do it
I'm going off to mars
It's time that I barade this place
And settle with the stars

I think that I would like a space
Where no ones ever stepped before
No damage made from yesterdays
Without a debt to score

I'm bored of all the interactions
Shaped by culture of the times
There'll be not small talk of weather
Politics not argued if never defined

Maybe I'll learn from what I observe
Instead of reading from a screen
I'll void the need to work with speed
With much more time to dream

No one out there to hurt the heart
With words that cut like knives
The constant fear, simply not there
To stop the living from their lives

The silence will be comfort
Where Chaos dissipates
Is mars a mission for mankind
Or a place sought for escape

//how raw the wound aches //

                                                      //  i see you in the sunlight //

// wrapped in our used sheet //

slit wrists
damp pillows
lover's eyes
vacant hearts
empty plates
twin beds
chinese temples
wooden idols
dusty windowsills
rap verses
closed curtains
angry candles
calloused hands
unopened letters
unsent texts
dry pens
spare change
crusty nails
dusty books
speeding tickets
broken crayons
black mascara
and more

sometimes
we're alike
sometimes
we're not

but we each always have
a story
to tell