I never did have my being mixed up with my fists
and I realise that was why I never really fitted in.
All I wanted to do was write down words
and set my being free to roam a poem or two.....

I can trigger
shame
in my sleep
the beauty
I’m made
to return.

the wind whistles through my skull
bleached and flesh free
I stand on the chalk hillside
staring out into space
hollow eye sockets where a worm crawls
empty of emotion
cried out long ago
see the path my soul took
and these poor bones were left as witness

a rattlesnake is my kind of dog.  it takes a phrase like this for my father to start talking.  his hammer misses his finger and hits a nail.  **** gets done.  his many wives run into each other so he can hear them being deaf.  if the dog becomes ill, my father has it all worked out how I’ll have to explain to some know nothing the right way to put it down.  sleep is satan without god.

its your words, your  language
the map you follow
that gets you to rainbows end

you watched the magician
bewitched

and magic fell from the mouths
two strangers

communicating
the best magicians of all  

abracadabra

they fell in love

Oh come on
I dare you to be happy
for awhile

good morning sunshine
i wished for you on a star
your beams are so warming
that warmth can go so far

(stars fade
they disappear in your light
my day is made
when you take away the night)

good morning sunshine
i wished for you on the moon
brightness is now forming
daylight is coming soon

I am not the man for you.
I know that I am not.
You are looking for that bright potential,
that sword-in-the-stone appraisal;
the Chosen One on steroids,
the hero on the screen.

I am not the man for you.
I know that I am not.
You are looking for an easy weekend,
smart dinners at the comedy show;
ribbons and bows of devotion-
those grand gestures
I could never bestow.

I am not the man for you.
I am not for anyone.
You see,
there’s a fatal, fatal flaw in me,
that I will only love
once the love has gone.