St Expedite,
  you're laid to rest
  when we are at the final end
  run through me
  bridge you've built
  now lay in pieces
  move me toward peace!

Who knows more than you
  one wish of commandments
  can we choose differently
  by the time you read this
  I can see you
and if in the same moment I can feel
I will truly genuflect
and I will objectify my belief
that I will in the same time be true
and the object I seek to work
worship never never truly expires!

  And I know you would stand up
in the minute six feet under
and say, "your wish is granted!"
what armor is light?

Be my guide carry me through the pain  
orient me alone as with others
so I won't refuse anyone
provide me with what creates,
shepherd who listens
pass all that onto me
so I can stand as you and inherit
and by the still waters
welcomes to sit
joining these bricks by bricks inside me
venerations without resistance!

   With your red cloak
whose militant quick action
chose death and made life come together
immortal eternal spirit
help my body temple
help the object of worship whom helps
find me on my way back
from the villa on the hill of illusion forgets
the intelligence of the world is all that artifice
Yesterday and Today with Tomorrow
   All is here in His Presence!

   St. Expedite , Today is for you.
I burn this white candle
St. Expedite, Today is for what
you wanted that this everyday
not be the second, make first what I wish:
   never another day be wasted.

  You Do know
why you came for this
and agree with what I ask for.
All there is is this to know directly
this is your power skyward!

  And I DO know this much
granting wishes
only works when you're here.
I know you.
and you can help me.
   Out of Love, You're the selfless warrior.

I call on you St Expedite
your name to be known
induced again and again
with Godspeed I make no mistake
who raised up what brings no shame
Saint Expedite lights this flame!

flow upon the paved stones
wear these antlers that glow-
    a rich mighty little patient
made your shtick- a burning oven
whose books are thrown into that yawn
who are you, so ancient?

I am sorry, to forgive  
who moved your flower
to push your knees apart to know.

in thy choir, I wrote to kneel-
When we met in thy vespers hour -

and in the between
your feasts were great
and we kissed  the greats of choir.

I left not one wounded man behind.
toward the darkness of notes I go.

toward the unconditioned priceless jems
puts Them on top     of A-social rank
and You are just a napkin, for Me
I, is always a one word sentence.

old or new,
where's your's -the blanket to love
to care for me,
the sad swirl,
shhh is a lightning's way-
and it made me smile a little.

For my grave:
I dreamed to sleep
Under the snow and stars
And was one with them.
.

I made this gift
But it had strings attached
And I covered it with leaves
To hide, to sleep
For when they grabbed onto
For when they catched onto me.
.

I gave the gift
But it had a lid
I covered it with leaves
To hide behind my eyes
Its secrets
For when they fondled my skin, gently
For they who covet
the pennies upon my eyes, not to wake
my sleep.
.

I am this gift
I am inside my lashes
I am inside my latches
I am covered within leaves

To hide, I grew the ivy
For my eyes, and for my feet
As they gathered to unwrap me.
In these crypts.
.

I gave away
All I had, quietly
I had with leaves
Because I so loved them
And leaves leave me freely
To hide inside gently coveting
climbing The door.

There was this city, she's been in
destroyed, will ever to be built again;

All there is left to do
Is try fighting over her land.

I have this fear, I think of not being
and I am unable to sleep
amongst the city scapes.

expelled, having confided with demons.

Next to nothing is this woman
She has bags full of cheerios, and overweight;
She too comes to this same spot
As I am, exhausted, at this coffee shop
From all the extra weight she carries.

She says with the heights
Of each new t.v season
Watch for my systems, turning time
of its wonderful fall colors.

They tell us where to go to see them.
the city rising
With its icons dieing, and monuments
Made in stone, to give us many stories.

We are trained to draw the lines
Work to serve devil's-food cake and slurpees.

All for all and none for none
What am I here for
In my middle age left to do
But band together the few
Who are lost in their mazes.

At the end of another season
I am going around fishing holes
Catching up with a winter's fever

And will ask you here-
By that old fir tree first
we found her-

Here, is where we come to cheat our diets;
I’m so afraid I saved a date,
to go back to that first kiss  
leaves began to stumble
as legs from their limbs-
fall away and let me in.

Kitten by the brook,  pawing at little fishes in that world
are there others, scratchin at the door?
  
    T'was, such as little fishes, eaten by the bigger masses
and hurries each other, to speak.

For every candy, has a twinkle, and children know
where candles go.
Is out.

Every mark I try to make,
Turns into a scar;
Maybe I should just be a wallflower,
to live and die,
Till I return to the nightsky, a star.

To coffee shop, The danish, laughs
You’re not mad,You’re just dieing
Your own stomach;
can't even understand what you mean.

For you, Who disappeared, today?
‘To be’ is a rarity,
And as a non-believer,
This life is just random.

To the coffee shop danish,
Who didn’t show up For work , today
In those silk stockings
Just to stock the coffee,
There is One less, on the streets
To go lording.

We don’t Stop them from living
Nor step aside for them dying
To stain your smock with their colors
When your being ordered.

the day old screams
On her privately.

the , is a weak glass . in your life sentence
and eyes color purplexed and cool, neblastick
colours me, inslides these lines, commands my presents.

gems are cold
like ice in the eye rolling them stones
throne, to the hallways, I go with pennies.

recruit/join, dear john, pulling us into, the one,
to take my spit, pulled me up, to do pull-ups
plopped me into the field's rain
severed from common man, ran
summed up in His calls to wild  
throws up pages into fire, trips
as the old rub, did to it, once, bounce.

therein, it lies, a rose-barb'sharp arm
     who captures the iron;
tickles or can be called to trickles.

~Where such numbers cannot try the cause let
My thoughts be ******, or be nothing worth!~WS

THE LAST ADMINISTRATION

From my forbearance, and failure
of warm touch
born Saturday, 3:00 p.m
this date: the moon landing.........now, 18364 days old later

Pay to the
Order ........... ...........$1.77

in some empty Well anywhere
I drop...
from this shell
sweet feelings about being born into it,
a conservative estimate to my mineral contents worth,
a value decreasing with cellular age,
my name used in financial gains or losses by others of it.

...............................Signed, without my mention

I have a dream, once alone, was stone
my face-time, nevermore just a game
real-time took more my reserves, as serious things became;
  and at each closed door, you all crash the same.
and at each burn, we are meant evermore harder,
to be: as that desire became.

I should step aside
to my dreams, and find
by any, the means

if by my own stride
to make cowards, and think
of our own wings

surely then, I go...
like the one before me, who said to have known what?! and what it is "to be"... to rend what is going to be;... because that- is itself as each of you can find daily the messengers of the world.

To be me-
dreams, that are
Police, who are
Bodies, that are
My father’s, who are as a
Matchstick's head, that are as a
Thread wrapped around, who are as
all that am
the Trigger who I am
and Are, hidden that I am
as Are agendas who at the least
Are ghosts that are
As dreams that are
In every Hamlets’ who are
To be.

Understudy,
you fathom deeper
wetter
just to be better

bouncing below
your grey outlines
filed down by the times

one criticism! done Ruthlessly,
gets to you, but you know what
would be a better telling

and you're not wasting
all that good talent,
to be saved.

whose that someone there on the corner
influencing me with her sign
does she expect me to leave her money.

sign says to me, love and remember
take care of my sweet things , for me,
I'm  on my way home.
I'm here, see me
my hurt and every hope.

She planted the sign inside me
as I drove by
The thought of her there still
and I was can'ting and I'm still
thinking I can't.
Hoping, instead, that the heaven rises open for her.

all her quotes were soon delivered by the passer byes
the ambulance driver had already gone, too.
All had left, but was me, laying down beside her
No God to be watching over -
We are now
the only ones watching
her story is sorta sad, tragic and funny.

the noon time sun pierced her there on the ground
Beside snow covered wheels were white and soundless
like photos that were a patch of dark blood was still mixing.

I over think on my worries, now, and know little else, because
She is friendless sitting still there in my memory;
Simply, I am to be no longer existing - the heavens, who do not care.
I do not guard my worried me, just kneel, I am liable
not have never read on his word, in my bible.

I am someone lesser, man now, for not believing
a wandering begging and I am blinding to pull off
all that I've gathered by my skin - inside this foxskin cloth,

that ******* the corner, so long she waited to get money from here to
travel to Baltimore, she had in her pocket her sister, Gabriela's calligraphy, her darned socks.

I think I will take a long Northern train to see tonight,
And pray with imagined gifts, quitting myself
and she hushed me. "I am a seed eternally."

she had beautiful eyelids and my nose knows
those pulsing streams are pillows that still gather
up on the down dust smatters from rain,
still the eyes are Writing
old pipers notes long ago accordion tunes.

by each contour
by every way
my tongue
burns
rolls
your
kisses, and
shatters the world.

i turned myself out, closeted
after I first hear "yes"
   getting braver
      corresponds each bridge
up on her,
openly pursued the wide open
  dragging within a great sadness.

promise me
you will never become sketchy

wondering, how i got the feeling  
you liked the twilight, instead

and it hurts. like the cut
when all my cellular devices stopped.

to what I don't know-what you don't know
     and to that I raised my hand;

to two- I don't know too; and with that
    I came to believe to know what you do.

I am to grow down to your garden, and talk to the flowers
and I pretend I was succulent and we grow back but never tired.

cut me into three pieces
you work the land by quarters
watching me,
perhaps you whose arms felt like lead.
I gave you rotten things when I grew up
but terribly feeling that I was being laughed at.

So below, I sew with these branches to you
grow back and intertwine. We are the behaviors of the briars
and we are familiar.

All the years in me asked
only once did you smile
when I bought you some clothes
but for all those miles
it’s not the clothes
But the uniform  that does the good!
.
All the years Cannot replace
What adulthood
Took away.

Copy Machines remember its makers\
Guitenberg press
Today, It stopped seeing to make my printing.
its decision was to begin. Intelligence.

A monkey saw a fish swimming
and thinking it was dying pulled it out of the water.
The fish died... try to understand the world of the other.

the then and now... and then she came
where i am, departed,
  each ones life is a distressed selfie, 
and it takes just seconds,
  whose life became obscured
buttons up inside the mystery.

Hand me a  pillow, to listen
not as burnt, if you can still get
a grip or suckle.

in thy loneliness
my  red antler hotel
my bony legs, a velvet wonder
just a ring and a cape
and a rood of trees stalking me
taking their turn into the milky book
and the lucky ones that did escape me
on her red carpet ashes layer with
everyone else

these are my pipes
I made a tone, baked-and done, mastered  
    the laugh,
hears me, and I need a new tone
       for style, for steel
for long, all night long
    sang to wake me, to be
for all the now
for all mymight goes
and all my ties, tied my delicate hands to goodtimes
lands me in bed with you.
burned and crashed us, together.

like ask me later

girls are like people
people are good
but good people
like good girls
now, they are hard to find.

shake if you
like that 8!

liked maybe
their game of chess
is a good game
but good chess players
hardly I can find,
to be bad at playing.

shake it
are you're still there
like Magic 8?

liked people
good at chess,
tend to be lousy at life
unliked people lousy at chess,
tend to be good in life.

is it like that Magic 8?

like me, I bet you will be
good at chess
and still looking for
another lousy player at life
to be bad with.

Yes,
it's liked like that!

In the Eyesore of the moon, I was stuck
with my rocket in Alice's, escape,

the earth was just for awhile, and the moon frowned
I was stuck there in its crater

back in the past, every present moment, everyone else fled
back on earth is so tossed around
and still having more shots and blows to take.

    for a rat to race to kickin adrenilin
“a kick”  around corner of #mylife
*               * how I didn’t   ”click with you”
*               * didn’t   ”check you out”
*               * you didn’t   ”click with me”
*               * i didn’t do enough.   we went around
#through this way,
*               * this was the last thing.
*               * the last terrible thing. #famous,
*               * i was ever going to say.

This is the only life I get, and
Regretfully, I’m wasn’t in yours.


Our hearts beat but like ruffled drums;
beating before waves
who came to each day, needing just the present,
without past or future
but there the day ends and It drew its line.


In a clutch in a “click” I was
*               * a roulette game,
every day the Present said, would make me famous.

“for kicks” the last day of #mylife
*               * how I didn’t   ”click for you”
*               * didn’t   ”click”
*               * you didn’t   ”give me a kick”
*               * i didn’t do enough.   #through this way,
*               * this was the last thing.
*               * the last terrible thing. #famous,
*               * i was ever going to be.

This is the only One life and
Regretfully, it wasn’t in it to play "for kicks"
your game...

In a clutch in a “kick” I was heading into
*               * a revolving door,
every next day said, I could go, there with you
and the end of the line, God gave me aid.  He said
the line is drawn!
I was made.
    and that is what made me famous.

Working on all that money.
but for most the parts forsaken;
from the gold standard drew
and His new line changes
each day, closed with drumming.

and for all of my letting go
baby, that is just the thing
something like friends of many worries
come about
and worry bread worry friends

who ridicule
and my clothes, who I was just alive
and to your friends, and we fought
shamed you to giving into
the violence and we wrestled
a way to drive them off

we wrote to your clothes
line by line and in
their absence
and the strangle hold
on your life!

who are we,
   thieves holding onto any stones we just laid,
only letting go, swiftly reach beyond the gate
to scratch the itch,
to bring creation closer.

needling by the lake, she seeks me deafly,  
pure warm, and watery grave, gently released me of the week
to sleep, and to my flesh, I put to work, I kiss.
to be just with idleness or just with  laughter.

whose blue eyes are fairy, like the landscape
and with each day, I come to seek you,
she finds in me the cures,
oh gently, let's me down to you mirra, mirra, mirra.

Shooting it up, the frosted black
   I once had you, young root,
   And my veins still lay there trapped
and I felt your ghostly ******
      each time, I came to a stop
to climb back into your branches.

the bed no more, I chose
to wed thee to

and I was not me, but something more

and with no word, found solitude

but with that thought
no one compares. and always  in you
I neared, every love and they did not compare

as i was just as the cat
who hid under the bed
not afraid,
and sought you there.

Dangling lazy their wet thumping legs,
my tongue bit that blanket pulled from me,

off with my clothing, your eyes hid nothing
happily, here after, in drinking;

Olives dream of the Sun
Once that held wumpa
To be a hole,
And in these last years I’ve
Held back biting at any one,  

I missed being Inside you;
or spelling you, and your howls.

impressive to look at
so fly were the stars, we drag a line,
we are the sheer terror pack
to never leave behind.

called to practice, poetry is like a war machine
living in the trenches.

building the front line looming
giving into its generation, it is.

a one cause of structure.

Pop goes, the atom drops
the pale blue sky beyond my range;

within a clash of space and time
we are bound, bends the weather vane.

Where upon that field, the light green sea
to find how youth’s white flower lies;

a long life is a dream for you and me
we trace it back to Auroran skies.

So cross that tight rope -rip-in-time,
the radio plays your song, soon
when flash, that camera bangs
down the slide we come.

i take my Croissant gently
i cooed the eyes of Dollies
and ships  
     I thanked.
each rope of hope
nice and cornered\educate each new wave
by a  powder-horn,
with cries ring loudly
venerate the sickle moon and Her
beloved Star.

liked in my hole, liked like garbage
the racoons, the rabbits
looking in
singing my praises
can we all just get along inside
if my heart were still alive?

just sold, from the lower shelf  
this ridge, a bar no one goes,
no one knows, or your name
   whisky amber, what her folks -wagon-
tied a star to,
came with new hook-ups.

Unreadable, unreasonable, rammering grammarless
My meaningless shats to joyless poefry

Mark my sayings.
I am soooo a fred (afraid), F treads on me

     the Frayed thread in that Tome.

    Fred, ye' stares out there, at this, I belledfast
the sky, a Fre'd/ itself, from just the-frayed…
it becomes: the Fray.
     sew meaning, in that brofredhood to Fredom.

Call me
“You’ll be connected to it like never before
To fall in love with a Spruce Tree.”
     Carve in me: “Let It Be.”

She let me remove her address, that was a tourniquet,
where were the fires...
and where We came to each.

“For fate, she takes a fire-hose!” and
sprays the dead for her evidence.

Lo Lee Ta
glistening and comfortable
As a dear friend

À! you're a
Good wither
As grass and flowers
And in that presence
A heart is forever.

be patient and kind, to people who are more difficult, who think they don't care enough about them

we are the lucky ones,
getting off now and playing
upon the field and what's to come.
   the Forever ,
thank God for you it is going to be over soon.

I'll remember your rookie card,
when just 21,
my lil gang and me,
and we all signed it,
from Joe, from atop of the World Trade Towers,
Caught us in that flight,
with best regards for our Bazookas and Bubblegum.

which eyes say,  by yes,
which eyes say,  by no,
   the eye's have it, quest say, by so,
to each good-day bested, by the ship called, Surprise!

that good fight hurt
only one
for which I longed too...
the sun,
who pulled its golden bow
where I could replace
the salt of the winters bone
with every new day, till spring.