My secret thoughts reside
in the backyard of my existence
where darkness cries out in shivers
clear to my bones.  
I wake up to find them
packed neatly on shelves in my mind
and wish I could just crawl away,
be left alone.

They come from my emotions,
dressed in sadness
with no intention of ever  comforting
what they transform.
There are days
when they make a decision
to rearrange the places I stand
until I am left without hope,
forlorn.

My secret thoughts are the lyrics of my being
which bid my heart
to walk on a white canvas
of the purest snow.
Oh the damage
that could be done
if I spoke them aloud,
my true feelings revealed
with these eyes full of woe.

I cannot bend or I'll break
so I hide on these shelves
in my mind,
packed neatly away
from all that challenges
my tree of life,
such as falling leaves.
My secret thoughts control
how my tongue refrains
from speech,
So my true feelings,
you will.....
never see.

You have me seduced by just your words,
girl, reading these lines, corners of my frame
have come alive tingling; In my secret desire
I admired her whose body was poetry in
motion, but wondered how her mind be:
Now I see your mind is poetry pure, I don't
care to question the beauty sustaining it!
Baby, under saline suns, you in a figure-
hugging dress, yes, let's meet at some sandy
beach, and drunk of your verse mingling
with the breeze - I'll lick those lips that
utter such sublimity, and feel that beauty
on my skin that's capable of such poetry!

we broke the wishbone
you got the wish
i got a splinter

that's how it goes

fare faced grinning fool
     oh, how easy it'd be
for me to be jealous of you, brother
the boy who couldn't be stopped
the man that the wind whispers to

you are magic
you are busy lights on an empty stretch of I80
the swell of drum beats over silence
the giggle-fit tear stains on the universe's cheek

baby boy
wide eyed man-cub

the world tried to steal you
once
all those years ago
and you
you defiant son-of-a-gun
refused to bow to even death
     the laugh lines at the end of a blank heart rate

thanks for never leaving me behind

you take nothing seriously
except dreams and funerals
and the call of the moon

"no matter where you are in life
no matter how noisy it gets
or how badly it hurts
you have to throw on the brakes now and then
just slow down
and turn your eyes to the sky
and howl
like a ravid coyote
howl at the moon"

"remind existence that you won't go quietly"

when i was six
dad told me that he and mom
had made us out of stardust
and magic
and beer caps
and fossils
     that they made us out of treasure

you're my treasure
and the temple of my dreams
you're my map
my back pack
my adventure hat
and the voice in my head that laughs
and calls me a *******

we are not human beings on a spiritual endeavor
but spiritual beings
bound to a human medium

how very thankful i am to be tethered to you

a candy apple red heritage soft-tail classic
on a rusted dirt road
i am built of where i've been

the mango groves
the east and west coast
and every camp-ground in canada
this map is my home
let me tuck you into the folds
and sing you to sleep
some place sweet
where the air smells of earth and rain

don't let the concrete tame you

the road under foot is not measured by the steps necessary to travel it
but the way one migrates over the breaking soil
resting between where we are and where we'll be
when our dreams run free
and the tent's set in the pines

barefoot
running shoes
doc martens
thumb to the sky
pack on my back
black top under bridgestones

let us fly

let us soar

s'go

i'll take you with me
like my sleeping bag
and skinning knife
and canteen

be the water that i drink

fuel the fires that propel this engine
drive me to the end of the road
where one can only go by foot
and feather
and foolishness

let's disappear in the fog of the north
the mud of the east
the heat of the south
the haze of the west

let's find ourselves in the topography of folded bodies
tangled up in a flesh scented tent

oh,

i’m not going to be happy

ever

and i’m doomed to be

divorced

because i don’t want to be swaddled in your sugar coated comfort blanket ?

i’m sorry that you believe love is only true if you suppress all of your satisfying, swelling feelings until the day someone wants to reproduce with you

and that you have to cover your most tender, lovely parts in ugly underwear and that on your wedding night both of you will

look the other way



it’s unfortunate that your God only likes you if you give him all your money and hate the right things

and that your life is a dichotomy of

knowing you are superior to everyone who didn’t happen to grow up with your doctrine pinned to their shirt

& knowing that if you don’t color inside of religion’s lines just so

you’ll

never

be

good

enough

for

salvation



and what if that still, small voice is actually doubt

and you spend your entire human existence trying to prove it wrong

by passive-agressively pushing your fear towards others

it’s sad that you’ll make yourself small for a potential outcome

while i’ll grow, grow, grow because i am boundless

you are too, but you don’t know it so you’ll pollute your potential with petty

judgments


yes, there’s a (pretty) ******* ring in my nose and some (meaningful) ******* ink on my skin and your son and i (beautifully) **** each other

i

am

no

less

and

no

more

than

you

are


your high horse has wobbly legs and thanks but

i will determine my own



happiness.

It's everywhere, the tension, the death, it's everywhere.
Can't run from food, no sir.
Anorexia is very fashionable in my city.
Bulimia, sorry to say, is never fashionable.
I shiver, but not as hard as I used to.
I cave in my stomach, but not as far as it used to.
I slowly earn my gravity.
Less dizzy, I never knew how pleasurable down could be.
My mouth has become a sacred place,
Cradling a cornucopia of life,
ten little pounds,
I'm desperate to accept
the way my footsteps sound.