I move your memory into the sun,
I know, I know:
Since I lost you I am alone
In the light of the world,
And God gave your wings back I see.
       The light reveals in me
A blindness to the current now,
Instead as stare blankly into the sun
I close my eyes at its revelations,
Like the sound of your breathing
In a mid winter's night,
The differences between them
And the breathing of a warm afternoon
Nap.
     Half of all the steps that ever mattered
To me are gone,
Like fragments of a broken moon,
Its orbit taken by its parent
Planet for getting to close and
Crumbles under the gravity.
   I weep a memory
As I cry to the sun,
I moved your memory there,
Always so bright
I cringe at the sight.

I see the waters of old
And remember when they were new,
To know I am forever part
Part of their shimmer.

To know that dreams are an eventuality,
While life is asleep and our souls
Would meet sometime in this flesh,
Which comes as chance and destiny.

I have not known much hope,
I have not seen the brighter side,
Life has been a sad gold,
A roughed up diamond.

At times when the evenings spread
Like the sunset stretches the shadows,
I think of the tiny miracle of the moment
When I first met you.

They say to take your time,
So I will take what is given,
The great eternal moment
That I marvel at your presence.

In these waters that have no end,
The immortal flow that brought us together,
What is now and forever
Has saved the best for us.

Unlike the Passions
Beyond encirlcled romance,
I know friend,
What winds have sung,
This the sun's inflation
Over scorched tears
And the boomerang desire
Crystallised the moment
I  leaned in and the infections
Of ending a material of
Friendship,
A new particle born between
The awkwardness
Bursting the anxiety of
Fluids never exchanged,
The paper hearts under
A soaking presence
Of red horizons leaving
The flickering of the Moon
Under waves,
A decor of rejected poems,
I know now the pain
Is the same color as
An empty  kiss and the
Hope is deep inside,
Taken  from the marrow.

Not too long ago
You made me promise you a new
Love poem every morning.
At night when the stars came by
And the moon shed its light
On your face,
I knew I could not write the poem.
With all that combined in the moment,
I knew you were the poetry.
So I tried to remember
Life empty without you.
All the forgotten faces from my
Earlier years,
And it seemed a dream non existent.
The kind you forget when you suddenly
Wake and the visions fall
Like dust from the shoulder.
For a long time I wrote so many love poems
Without you,
I see now the promise was in the words
I had written so long ago,
The poem is you,
And I dare not write what is already written.

Too keep one honest,
As much as one can face,
A poet uses irony
To offset this.

The words told me
What I really think of me.
There is no place to hide
In a Hello world
I can't say I'm fantastic,
Only an utterance of many
Things I could borrow from
Silence.

At the forefront I can read the poetry
I write, and face my true mirror, the inner works of me
Cascaded by bold words.
Hypothesis me, words equally
Distributed
And the work is an unfinished verse,
And sometimes I can't face myself,
The words escape me.

....And you became like water
That slipped between my fingers,
       there is no then,
Only a haunted now,
I move in the stillness of compacted time
     In the great masses of peoples
With the landscape unmoving
      Under dome of sky
Where regret crushes a tiny star,
      A memorial of light within light,
I am lost in your memory;

           Luminous woman,
          Golden haired woman
          Stretches herself over skies

We crossed the nocturnal
In a final dialogue of our bodies,
     We spoke fire like poetry
Enlaced in the verbiage of lovers,
     But words take final breaths,
    They distance themselves into echoes,
         we named new words
     And constellated sonnets
       Into the night sky;

      The living wound
      Cuts through my life,
       Be it your knife, my sacrifice

And in the kingdom of us
Where we crowned ourselves
In the momentary truth,
       All became our perception;
We created new worlds for our selves,
    We put the sun upon the sea
And set it to sail into our night,
       Everyday was a resurrection
as we governed our lives
     In an ecstatic harmony;

       To see your lovely forms,
            The sun throbs
       In the shadow of your living hour

     In forever I cast myself
        Unto gravitous time,
      Memories embody your form
     And the moment fulfills itself,
         Though the life is gone from me,
         The poem embodies forever,
             Immense as the look of your love.

Its a divine day to think about
The apocalypse, to walk along
The final shores before the
Tsunami take me!

I take a walk in the night wonder,
I look on hopeful stars and think
If the inter- continental ballistic
Nuclear warhead will strike down the skies.

Sometimes in abstract silence,
I see comets the size of a football field,
They pass me by and say hello,
But they never seem to end the world!

And standing upright looking into
The oblivion, I feel the cool breeze
And sense the Ice Age coming on,
Then it all comes to a stop:

I realise I am just a man with
Too much time on his hands
Watching networks news and
Find that the end of the world is
Everyday.

I do not know what is real,
Are there words real,
Real the poem,
Are you real,
you that reads this?

I question myself,
Everything and everyone,
The only answer I have
Is that I am alive between
The verses.

That words are divine,
But that poetry
Is made by living:

Become the poem.

We wrote the tree shades
Into it's roots as lovers do,
A first time's last
All said and done with me and you.
       We pained the leaves
        Green under said sun,
        Held our dreams
       For what might come.
Under the twilight
Of broken moons,
    Dancing with oak's
    Nurturing tunes.
And be it that the tree
  Will never fall,
It holds us eternal,
Memories all.

If only the world weren't so big,
All these souls would pass by my
Door:

And through my window cruising
I see a magnolia flowered sorrow,
The kind with moon beam eyes
And darkens your heart when you
See it;

Why is she in pain,
All alone in the grey.....
She has a wall surrounding her
Until the last day of hope
And a turbulent river encircling her.

Ah, but her steps are like the dove's,
Tranquil,
For gentlemen's sake I have to offer my
Hand holding hers like fragile balloon
Set off in the air, getting too close
To the sun and the continuity of the light,
So bright, it might burst in my hand.

She only needs some money,
I tell her to get in,
I'll buy her a meal.
She enters with grief,
The kind like in this poem,
But from her gentle eyes
The nocturnal sense is born
And the stars with her eyes.
I am taken,
What sweetness in her voice,
She asks me for a lemonade
As something familiar to herself,
The longing she has missed.

Why doesn't she get off the streets,
What holds her here?
I see the shake in her arm,
The tiredness of her body,
But she does not want to be saved.

I know her goodness
Had more than a conversation within,
That a life wished for better dreams
Haunts like dawn and dusk,
Touching her like a ghost.

"I need my fix"

I giver her ten dollars.
What horrid reality she lives in,
She walks away,
Turns back and offers a sentiment,
" I needed this meal, and
Thanks for just being nice"

Her hope is barefoot and barren,
Who will save her life?
I only know soon I will
Be a voice, an echo in her soul.

The mouthful of universe
    Sprang from a universal tongue,
Armed with the Words in a corridor
    Of birth before the abstract divinity,
The benevolent assault of creation
    In the circular currents away from
No place and no where
     The whiteness bound into the sun,
Lonely tears birth the oceans
   And with a finger provoked eruption
      Of earthly space,
He sings the solar song,
     The words with roots in invisible
Trees, the yellow surf of dusks,
    In the beginning was a dream
Forming the constellation of life......

Everyday people,
Everyday faces,
Everyday the same.

The sad ones,
The lonely ones,
The few moments in between.

All of the repetition
Speaking in repetitive
Statement one heard before.

And to have to be alive
Knowing that there all there
Is to life is is to live!

Hair unpinned,
Half smile,
More like a half moon
That shrugs off the day.

Arm at your side,
Like an angry mother,
Glued eyes to towards
Me and your presence
Exploded into my memory,
Subliminal walk skywise rises.

The weary fall
Through which you see the world,
The weary rose you were
As your presence burns through
The cold.

The portrait of your figure
As your memory
Burns the epitaph of your presence
Into the windows of the soul.

No more words.

Let the golden pollen
Of the finest flowers yet to be
Fill the snowflakes in purified
Glistened luminosity falling.

The natured call in the heartfelt
Spring of seasonal bodies,
The aura of sun warmed gilded
In waves of new birth memory.

Desirous vibration of longing
Fill the need in the cold fires,
A conquest of light
In the darkest triumphs.

In the crimson meadows
Of the sunlit mind,
A sparrow's song to the nest
Bleeding into the Winter depth.

In the depths of the cold
Passing before the season,
Spring comes in a fantastical
Whirlpool of new life in the middle
Of the storm.

"It's only a poem,
Dont read so much into it."
      
             Dedpoet

I am absent from your reality,
Deep into the words
There waiting for myself to reappear.
In other things i imagine myself,
Away travelling in the universe
Of my mind,
Some places that i have never been
Are waiting for me to get there,
The depths of myself.

Im here in these words
In bits and pieces
That wanted me to turn into language
So i could express them,
The trees and the skies and
The world around that does
Bot speak but says more than
Anyone man.

I fall deeply
Away from flesh
And my spirit puts on the words
That the world cannot speak.

I speak not for myself
But that which language was invented
For,
That we might put into words
Such unspeakable beauty.

Into the night
Revealing all of the pleasures
With its hand of shadows
Uncovering what one hides
In the dark.

A blow of sky
With it's silence that burns
Between spaces when one cannot
Sleep, the cry of insomniac
Blood straying from sleep.

Into the night
One flees from things;
Or runs to them away from light,
The moist of the earth as
The back touches in a nameless
Affair between skins.

All the lust,
It burns with passion
Like a dream speaker whom
Walks with sinful nature.

And the kiss is a wound,
The fever of the moment
Turns into a black unholiness
That makes one wonder
Why the bad feels
So good.

Into the night,
All that is left from the parched
Thoughts under a bankrupt sun
Touches the inner animal,
Floods the moment
In the dead of darkness
And dies upon the touch.

The solar song is born
And a dream is wished

With hope to sky
       I birthed a star

I invented a thousand moons
In maternal orbit

I wished to see you again
Stilled forever in my universe

          The Blue Sun dawns
          Evoking the crystalline moon

I made a new world
        Where mine was before

With my mind I made new oceans
And lovers on a lone island

         I made new flowers
         From all the spectral lights

And I taught the a new language
Of song

I watch this place from the departing
Home

I'm the Stargazer
            With a broken heart

On granite tops
Of a syllables edge,
Under the knife of the moon's
Tips and rustled
Tops of wilderness's troops
Marching in cooler bones
And aching the secretly
Emerging gold and browns
Alleviate the warm regards,
Bland of words
And so many, many of
The mind inherit the season
With feverish nostalgia,
Able to take sin among the
Flesh and cleanse the
Cools the breeze like
A sullen midnight tremble
In the lovers arms
Greasing the days with
An  angels wing
And the eyes grow heavy,
Pure more so than you
Or I,
A cool silence
In the huge seasons
Flowing in the beads of
The virgins beneath
Winter's yelp.

I awaken to primitive forces,
My hand at her hip,
Like two flawed crystals
With eager flashes
With no grace in morning ***.

The longings drained,
And a hangover settles over noon.

The most uncomfortable peculiarities
Sit in like an unwanted listener,
Like a vagrant flower she eats
Whatever I threw on the table.

And I never knew my ex this well,
Still at least I knew her last name.

Inflated situation with irony
And absurdities between adults
Who for all adulthood are acting
Like nervous teens,
There's to be no encore ***.

"I'll call you"

Was that a question?
I wonder,
I close my door like the saddest clown.

Dust of dawn, red of sun
Hell bent on losses winning
On chances.

I am the discoursed wind flowimg
Like waters edge
Over lost eyes and questions
Remain,
Silence happens
And laced within the legend
Of never was.

Why didnt I?
Haunted happens too.

Self crowned among the masses,
A shout grim and hopeful,
Yet impartial and beneficent,
A war dog's appearance is beautiful
In it's momentary truth.

    Cry war dog,
The sea mounts the coast
And the wounded patriotic
Statuesque in a pose of glory,
A broken hymn among the ruins
Gnawed by flashing lights,
All is the war dog's cry!

  He cries freedom!
He cries justice,
   He cries faith,
He cries for the sake of the unborn
Soldier unearthing the burials yet
To be......

    Cry war dog,
History remembers
Such glorious monsters.

Hope float,
Like the poem you wrote,
Taking note
You put on the words coat,

Hope float,
The day you spoke
She, he, a little choked,
Your shirt tear soaked
And another poem wrote.

Hope float
On a grey day boat,
You napped then awoke
And alone while on the float,
Your heart spoke notes,
Another note you wrote,

Hope float,
Pains tender note,
Swan song loser goat poke,
Not the hero u had hoped,
Your lover with another eloped,
Your heart strings on a *****,
Don't play the dope,
Hope floats,

And poetry saved you.

Oh my Lord,
I pray unto the sweetest sin,
That my eyes have gathered a harvest
And in the image of your perfection,
I saw what angels see;
As I walked in the morning shadow
A door half opened,
My eyes curious as a fragrance
Of blessed perfume gathered
And a dove perched at the window.

Lord,
I saw perfection,
Though in the flesh nothing
Is perfect,
I cannot here in words duplicate what
Beauty lay naked,
But the poet in me longs for
The words to embrace such beauty:
Flame of the sun
    Burns amidst sensations,
The shadow of my desire
     Cast from the flames.
There in a garden of flames
       She lie naked.....    the senses open
Magnetic eyes,
     The passion of lovely embers
        She entered through my eyes,
The windows of my soul,
     And I longed to be with God,
The thoughts though unholy
Flow into a desirous nature ,
     What I see is my creation,
Perception of my conception,
      Oh she is crystalline clarity,
And I am revealed to be only a man,
     Truth of desire,
Transparency is all that remains,
     And she is the truth of the moment.

Lord,
Forgive this sin,
I walked away with no soul,
For it stayed behind
To be born through the sight
Of She, of Her,
And in the glory of her nature,
A Poet Saint is born.

Oh, the big whole life
That fills all mystery
And makes everything so small....

She stares out a window
At the center of her world,
A sorrow
Like a dark magnolia
Which changes when touched.

She had a wall around her
Until the day she let's it go,
A turbulent dream that keeps her
Awake, to guard herself from
Everybody else.

Oh, her she is a dove,
A tranquility she knows nothing
About,
He told her she was beautiful
Holding  his breath when he said it.
And the fragile destiny
Can be seen in her absence,
Her voice is darkened
And was gentle like air,
But the night is now born
Under her eyes,
The light escapes her as she
Walks with eyes to the earth,
She can't feel a thing
Because the pain numbs her,
Familiar to her like family now,
The razor is a new friend.
She cuts the life I to her,
Along with the jelly beans she grew
Up loving,
The blood runs down her thigh
And the flavor
Melts into her mouth.

Why is this normal for her?
She asks herself with a half smile,
The landscape of her life
Is a dream trying to feel
Anything.

I know her innocence
Has more than this razor,
And all her heart is stuck
In a painful fragility,
Touching what she sees as real
The days pass,
The scars number every day.

What destiny will free her
From the closed heart?
What steps will she take to free
Herself,
That the cage might become a bird?

Who will rescue her from the wolves,
While she bleeds herself
Into oblivion,
Some day,
Oblivion may take her home.

For two weeks since he's been home
He lost most of his conversation
In asking me or himself what needs
Done in the house or around it.

He watches the news alone at midnight
In the dark looking for war updates,
Always up before me to avoid any
Kind of pillow talk or otherwise.

26 years old and tireless
Back from four years of God knows
Because he won't say a word to me,
But I've never seen him more alone.

Last night I tried to make love to him,
He winced at me like he didn't
Know how to he with a woman any
More, which I found at first kind
Of nice, but really depressed me
Later on thinking about it.

Everyday during lunch, Gil breaks
Out his hand gun and rifle,
He breaks them down with such
A delicate touch, sometimes I get
Jealous of the way he handle them.
Still at the very least I like to think
That he knows how to touch a woman,
And he just misplaced his passion,
That one day he will put the energies
Back where they need to be.
We talk everyday, but the ts like
A mechanical response,
J just let him be.

We had a laugh when we shared
A movie together, the first one we saw
When we dated as teens,
He smiled at me like he did before
He left for the war,
He even gave me a kiss that lasted
More than the usual pecks.

In our bed I stare at this man
That I couldn't breathe without,
I try to understand that maybe he
Will come home some day,
Maybe he will remember himself,
Maybe is my best hope.

War is a monster,
Nevertheless a spawn
Of the course that humanity
Cannot know until it sickens
Itself of its reflection,
Born is the unsettling peace
And an eye full of remorse
Until the infinity settles the
Loneliness and kindles
The desire for more,
The temporary sanity between
Is a generation yearning.

A star and its flurry of appearing
Brethren as they push their way
To the eyes that wish to see,
Its shine which was not there before
And in seconds reaches what took
Millennia to reach the globe of
One's eyes, and the glory that falls
Upon us, what does one do with this?

It slowly comes together
In the depths of the heart,
The hope of forgotten dreams well up and spill their way into existence,
We constellated the sky not in any
One star to lay a wish on,
But instead have used a multitude
To feed the light that haunts
The black night.

And before the pieces come together,
Remember that the heart ,desirous
As it is, will gives the clue to hope and dream
And the key to putting it together,
One only need look up into
The starry abyss, fill it out
With what we can see and make
The dream a reality,
As fragmented as the sky may
Be,
It reflects the fragments of
The broken dream.

So I pierce into said sky,
Make my own constellation,
And when the stars are realigned
Into the order of remembered hope,
There I can see it,
I remember hope can change the stars.....

You were in the rain
With the drops gilded by the sun
Dripping on your smile with
Their moist wings.
The rain with its transparent
Eyes and crystalline forms
Reach out to me from memory,
Memory which is carried by every storm
Like tears on the window
Ringing you face to my mind.
They play my heart like liquid
Violins, an orchestrated thunder
In my pain.
I remember when you left,
It was raining
Pouring down like broken glass,
I feel your presence in every drop.

I would let go all enduring sorrows
     Lifted like a curse,
A difficult time, so many times.

   In the Autumnal of my life
I would become like certain birds
And stay home for Winter's stretch,
      Where I was forsaken before
Like a lonely solstice,
You bring with you new seasons.

    And as I am now
Like a tired horizon over an
Un- majestic setting over a people
Long on their own lives,
      Over the repugnant solitude
Of a lone island,
You bloom as it's first carnation.

  As I am just a man now,
I grasp at new beginnings with a
Consolation of a certain rebirth,
      If your arrival means I must
Leave my world behind and live
Somewhere, somewhere new,
        I long for this,
Already lonesome is a type of death,
       As I am now, revived as a kiss
Of fresh air received me,
      All my being aches for you;

And taken as I am,
I shall not be as I was,
      For in the Autumn of my life
I find a blossoming Summer in your
Embracement,
    Firmly I feel the veins filled
With your presences,
    Lost in the labyrinth of your
Anxious romance,
    I live the sweetest clarity....

And you take me as I am,
      I will never be the same.

Petrified,
        Obsidian stones,
Fire understood,
      Superfluous verbiages;
The mangled butterfly absorbed by light,
       Hope is born at the tongue,
Confirmation contorted,
     Clarification of the crystalline cries;
  In the whirlpool of the first
Swirling at the tip of the tongue
     Chanted in a litany of animalistic
Nature,
       There is only a man,
Singing solar solstice,
     Staring into sun stars
Splitting solitary shadows,
     The end of the beginning,
Man and fires
Speak the dust,
       Tears of the evocative death,
Rebirth in memory,
Memorial in melancholia,
Misty eyed men mention losses,
      Speak the grief,
Speak the rage,
         Man that is man,
Tongue of emotional images,
                Speak as the first word,
A tree of names,
      Yes, the word,
Words,
       The poem everlasting
Longing to be unspoken.

First Encounter

A beginning
      A seedling
Fertile youth
        Ageless gaze;
By passion they were found,
    And by passion they were lost.

*---------*

    Holding Hands

Buried with touch
    Amidst a new language.
The world beats
    Pulsating claritys,
Falling confusions,
      Dreaming awake....

*--------*

    Smiling For Him

Embers of hope
    Shedding darkness,
A surge of feeling
    Insisting existence:
The soul alive!

*--------*

         First Kiss

Flames of magnetic touch,
   Fire knots in the stomach,
Without words
    Wet syllables speak
Unlacing Passion's verbiage.

*---------**

    Saying I Love You

Children of the dust
    Reach a balance
Within the universe;
Destiny unfurls
In a creation of words
Speaking like children of God.

I can remember in my youth
When my friends and I would
Hunt in our backyard with pellet
Guns in hand and the thought
Of a fat dove we might cook.

The first time I held that knife
And took it out of his stomach,
I never knew how the joining
Of the two could shock me,
I almost let go,
I held on long enough for him to
Collapse, I ran and never looked back.

I had never killed a bird before,
Unknowing how it's flailing wings
Would affect me, so powerful,
Fear in its eyes, I knew he wanted
To live.  

I had never stabbed a man before,
He had no wings to flutter,
But as I ran,
I knew that bird wanted to live,
I feel a guilt over me
When I can't tell if that man wanted
The same.

To whom one is loved,
To be loved delivers
In return
A natural state of what
It means to be human.
And all along the river
As the waters whisper moments
In a running stream
That makes what bearable
Pre existing emptied
Soul poured into the flesh
And left to settle into the dust
What one can manage,
Only the love returned fills
The soul,
And family, friends ,
And lovers begin the end
In a flash so bright
It blinds a star
And what is born is life,
Each a tiny universe unto
The self,
A portrait of a person
For better or otherwise
Solidifies the magnification,
Love is Spirit,
And I am magnificent,
Because I know I will
Die of life,
And I lived,
All that one can do....

What sustains it?
Open soul,
The clarity of mind
Let loose in the garden of night.

    Orchestral branches,
Momentum toward the spiritual
   On a gleam in your eyes.

   Receive the moonlight
On the waves of your hair,
   The architecture of my seductresses.

The darkness spins its webs,
  Your touch invents a moment,
Reality unrealistic,
   The night,
        a fountain of desirous hearts.

Is not in my pen,
Not in these words.
Not in my breath,
Speaking broken verbs.

It not my book
Of lost sorrows,
Or writing audascious
Hopes for lost tomorrows.

It is when I fight
To get out of here,
Lost in the poem
With life oytside so near.

The curse of words
Is that we are there but not,
Writing thé moments
Where present eas forgot.

I take the time
To take the time,
A moment in its pursest
With no reason or rhyme.

Just be.

I didn't want new shoes,
Not from the Goodwill store again.
My father opened his piggy bank,
I guess there are other boys
Who would take the shoes
You have now.

Ping, ping, ping,
Quarters hitting the counter
As he payed for shoes I didn't choose.

My friends can tell if the shoes are used
Or not, I looked up at my father.

You haven't even seen the shoes,
You've been nagging the whole time!

My whines could be heard round
The Westside, from the seat of the
Truck I imagined the ridicule,
The mean things they would say
And I would be parylyzed
From their words.

I put them on the next day.

My father would never have guessed
He chose used Jordan sneakers,
His wise natural character beyond
Such things, whose calming voice
Made the world  rearrange to sense.

Empty streets,
       Squinting lights,
The ghost of a woman
      On her morning stroll,
Shadows of light,
       Birds constructing songs,
Coffee opens the invisible,
       Galloping into the day,
Ready for battle.

I retreat prompted by a certain
Charm for older things
Into my mechanized city:
A scene of 1920's buildings
Awaiting seeker of history.

    I sit by a grand oak
    With a book in hand
    And find a storage dimension
    Of Pecan and Ashe trees
    Whistling to Poplars in certain
    Winds between the River and the
    Town that runs through it.

Here in a walk with the River
I want to rest my soul
A destroy all other thoughts
Of complacent voices.

      An old cantina was placed
      At her heart, inside a Catholic
      Crucifix with Christ watches
      Over the patrons as they drink
      A merry round with old friends.

A profound feeling in the city,
I gaze at the Old Mission
Of the Heart, I remember her well,
The Alamo lights up my city
And perhaps my whole world.

     There is a tower of many Americas
     Compelling the watchers,
     Its as if the mercy of her heights
     Allows you to fly in the air
     Seeing certain histories from there.

I enjoy her charm,
San Anto at her heart
Is a maiden of loyal charms,
All resignation is set aside
As old voices speak to you,
And they  seem to say,
"Welcome, welcome old friends"

Once upon a time
I was cursed to follow a woman,
Her bed was the alter of my sacrifice.
    I had three jobs
To pay for her extravagant lifestyle,
    I robbed the local convenience store
to pay for her ttaste in expensive jewelry,
    I have checks made of rubber
That bounce from mall to mall,
   I could not stop myself
For I was fearful she might scorn
Me with her luscious lips,
Stare at me with those entrancing eyes!
  It wasn't always like those,
Before we used to date and eat ice cream
At the park,
Drink at the cabana place I know,
We would make love til the morning.

      But the years went by and I fell
In her web of mysteriousness,
She would wear these dresses
With nothing under and flash me
In privately in public places,
     She would contort her body
That wrote new chaoters in the
Kama Sutra, I was a poor boy
Lost in a world of candy.
Then, she threatened to take
Away all the sweets if I did not
Stop talking to my friends,
    And to make sure this came to
Be she hacked my Facebook page
And said I hated them all,
Each by name,
   She was in a jealous delirious state.
     When I get home from work
She makes me kiss her on her cheek,
The her forehead and slap her on her
Backside, she makes me talk
About which dress I will buy her next,
    Of what make her next shoes I will
Surprise her with, a pair a month
As a surprise, aside from the ones she
Expects on demand,
     My ears burn, I know she is near,
I throw up at how much I know about
women's clothing,
I fainted when she bought her
twentieth purse,
She then says for fainting she had to go
Rethink our relationship so she
Takes her mother on vacation
With my recently cashed 401k.

Its been some years now,
I stopped the three jobs and held on
To one, she did not mind
After I passed her credit check.
    But the woman accused me of not
Loving her and wasting her best years
Because I refused to buy her
A car, she could not drive,
So she brings her Mother home to visit
And after a month I buy her a Camry,
      Her eyes flash in anger because
It was not go to the year,
The new models came out next month
But it was the same year as it is now,
So I have no clue what she is babbling
About,
    I then walked out and lived as a homeless
Man for a few weeks,
I slept in the park and found peace in
Hunger, but the law would
Not let me stay there,
So then I went on to pretend I was
A joyous hobo,
And I lived in a small tent village
With others like me,
Many whom had left their
Crazy wives.

   One day I got a surprise kiss on my cheek,
It was her,
She had found me and I was horribly glad
To see her again,
But I thought I didn't love her anymore.
She holds my hand and says
That she will take care of me now,
That all my troubles are over.
She has bought me a plot
Of land with my tombstone
She said,
That I would be with her the rest of our
Days she said.
I told her I could use a break
From all the wild life,
Get me some food woman,
And a beer to boot.
As I wait for my new old wife,
I kick my feet up and watch
The game,
Next to the remote I notice the picture
Of my tombstone from
Some photo she took,
On it was my date of birth,
And mysteriously my date of....

You inhabit the world
As a sculpture of the wind.
        
Your radiant forms,
Feast of light and shadows.

In the center of perception,
Watching you makes everything real.

Aroma of nakedness,
I devour your feast of forms.

Transfigurations, endless possibilities;
Your body is the the bridge over the abyss.

It all works....
    The way is should.

Whipping the day
Like lashings to the body,
Exclusive to where
You found yourself alone
In the prison of the mind,

It all works.....
    The way it should.

Tell me where you found
Yourself,
Away from me and the vivid
Yolk of slavers rejoices,
Don't tell me what I already know...deeper thoughts
Reside...

It all work.....
I suppose....
The way it should,

   Tell me where the problem
Surrenders to the solution
At the end of the barrel
    Take from me the side arm
And I will reload my mind
Trap the soul and win
Your body at the cost
Of time's reflection,

I suppose,
It all works.....
The way it could,

But where is the just
When I just got here
To my trial, tale
Of two thieves,
And I am locked away from
A grim reality,
Perception at its most gruesome,
Where we all never were,
This is normal,

It supposed to work,
The way it could,

Mentally programmed
To a bitter state of mind.

I will die in the Westside
On some corner with a beer
In my hand, as if holding the lost
Scrolls of Atlantis.
I will die in the Westside-
And I won't be ashamed that
I am a drunken mess and my liver
Has swollen like my heart for
My dear neighborhood.
     It will be a Tuesday,
I will go back and find myself
Within the aloness with all the Yesterdays
Behind me.

Dedpoet is dead. The world beats him,
Although he never fought back;
It beat him hard with a stick....

There will be witnesses,
Nameless and I will not know them,
Only the solitude, the grey, the cold roads.....

Between us:
A mirror, a desk, a wardrobe,
My self and you, a bed and the
Enormous night.
There are moons splintered, a sleeping
Star, further still the morning.
There are dogs barking, a short wind
As you've taken the evening's breath,
The slow cooling of the earth
As birds humm and crickets chirp.
Between us the thirst that dwells
Under your caressing,
The distance is hard and slow,
A suffered savor of the momentum
Dragging each other slowly
Towards the living Waters that
Liquid lovers two, becoming one.
Your body wears my touch
And my soul inside your glance.
I die into you, you into me
At the precipice of sunrise.
Our names are far away,
Your transparent gown in the
Phosphorus glow.
Your eyes between is a great distance,
All that I ever hope to see;
Between your thighs an hour
And a thousand kisses.
I find that the distance between us
Is the love deeper than the abyss
Of the skies,
Between your ******* the distance between
Is the heart that beats rhythmic
To my soul,
Inside you we lose all flesh,
Between us souls.
Defenseless night,
Between us everything and nothing.

This little life of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine:
      Even with dark forces
        Riding in like four horses
      Making corpses
     Of all that I love
      And care for,
    What are they there for
      When all that I dare for
      Is taken into the apocalypse
        and my life gets alot of lips
     Talking, but I walk in no man's land,
       I am the island to myself
       The force of my nature
        Dont let the hater
         Bother me now or later,
       This little life ,
  Crazy majestic,
       The belittled strife,
       I can just taste it,
Bittersweet,
      I'm gonna gonna let it shine;
     And the darkness surrounds me.

There I stood,
Alone as ever,
Hated because I chose and let go,
I wanted,
So I let the cadence go
So I could change my tune
And new witnesses testified
And the new ME was born.

I had to let em go.
They loved me tben
And hate me now.
I gave tbem all they could handle,
And tbere at the edge I jumped
And became ME,
WHERE NO ONE FROM THE PAST
COULD SEE ME,
OVER THE EDGE AND TO A DEATH
AND REBIRTH,
such is tbe true change.

I fell into the commerce
Of trading looks with you.
And once your stock rose,
I invested a lifetime.

The bells broken
And the language discerned,
Break free the chains
That hold hearts vague:

I was in a dream awoken
By a wishs crescent smile
And only the blue sun
Had made the light clear.
    I had been made for this,
Clear like voices unspoken
And I am free,
Driven from the boldness
Into the sake of hope,
For hope's sake.

I say now there is nothing
And nothing has bloomed,
The age of orion
When the blood moon rose
And men became lost,
I am,
So that you will be no more,
Lost in the drizzle of the unspoken.

Rain down on me your fire,
I am found in the light of my
Structure,
Thar which they cannot break
And i am a poet,
Nevermore in the mind
Reality is fools gold,
Taken to my chambers
Where my body lays
But my soul is free.....

Never succumb,
Your truth is the dream
That you awaken from.