My apparition is now animated
Born from a dream dimly projected for a time
It lies here
On this bed
Not sleeping I ask
What altar is this?
Less glorious than marble and fire I know
Yet something dissipates here
The hands of pale lights reach beyond the veil of the window blinds
And guild the empty spaces above my fretting body
Almost caressing the only consequence to this
Yet I abandon paper devices for my petitions
They break like glass as they pour from my mouth
Ascending, they shimmer in the urban eclipse taking the stead of starlight
From it's heart a name has fallen
Speak it for me oh eyes
For we say
She is called Night

I am dying stars
I am locked doors
I am smoke
I am steel
My eyes burn
I learned to make gold in your shadows
Now I am priceless
I am industry
And I am angry
I will rise on clockwork flight
There are no wings to melt on me

Over sleep
Undercook
Picking Scabs
Laying myself out for the day
Pulling my feet down to the carpet

A life in broken glass,
A reflection-
One million pieces,
Impossible to see myself rightly,
Tell me who I am,
Which of my pictures fit together,
This curse-
     this curse
This curse of suburbia,
The unperceived ritual,
Take
Regurgitate
Build
Charge the culture gods,
Update the computer shrines,
Dam them all,
They replaced the spiritual encounter:
Our birthright,
Traded for ***** water,
Our entire lives,
Washing nothing away,
This murky bath is our judge,
Confronting our condition

If I could reach into Apollo's cloak,
I would pull down the stars and put them in my eyes,
Drowning myself in pedals of flowers,
Give me stimulation,
A temporary satisfaction,
But dislocated from the natural idea of rest,
Wilting away from their stem,
Ready to die

I can see
Pixels wash away
Watercolor dreams

I can see
Generations
History
Recede by technicolor tides
Into a grey scale sea

Regardless of origin
This cycle resonates too much for

Me

Bad men are children who never grow up

Drown me with flowers though,
Drops jump,
Falling all over the pedals,
They are lost things,
And screens as starlight pulls these like paintbrushes,
Fingers of bristles leaving traces of them,
Encircling a rusty city with dew,
Putting out fires in some places,
Watering others,
For the smell of rain is swallowed up by memories,
Then spat out by storms,
Let us have a moment of silence for the gardens in them,
They wither away like pictures in shoe boxes,
Collecting dust,
Then thrown into fire,
This is my witness-
I am a desperate man in these modern landscapes

Tripping on small stones,
The path of least resistance,
The path of tangled demise,
They said I was made of monsters,
Because I hid my face from the sun

Piano keys clang like breaking swords in dissonance,
Their vibrations transcends my sleep,
I lie awake parading the past in the moonlight,
My shining armor crumbled to rust like dying kingdoms,
All the dragons chased me away,
Because my youth was spent,
I warn you,
There is no hope for a recluse

I am lost in these present landscapes,
Born from hands,
Opened above oceans,
Paint on me all these leagues,
My definitions fade among lights and machines,
The Modern Strain,
I close my eyes against it

My eyes say to you,
Behold,
A man crawling with fear,
Who smolders with anger in his bed,
And clenches his regret with fists below the smog,

I know these forms of men,
Encounter,
Unravel,
Suppress,
Reject,
Oppress,

Drown me with flowers though,
I wish not to see these shades,
Let the waters take me to my island,
Alone in my room,
Hiding like the rest of them

Just a bunch of ghosts and scabs,
Walking around,
Taped to one another

I was naked,
So I fled,
A curtain of daggers for me,
I decorated my shame,
So that your face would not see me,
Forgive me for the days,
And show me the sun,
I know the Spring will be held held between our hands,
It is freedom,
To share this thing,
You knit together my spirit again

Silence has opened it's mouth,
I unfold before it,
Strands come undone,
The story of a man gets swallowed,
The strength of my youth falls with the wind,
A veil takes the stars from me

Plight for sore eyes,
Dreams made in the dark,
Drawing circles around you,
I fill the air between the stars and me with desperate measures,
Pray that I'm not sifted,
I'm fighting nets at night,
Exchanging hands with waves,
Why do I embrace the sea?
This struggle....
Always defining the world around me,
It's not real,
But the waves swell beneath their master moon,
She pulled me under,
My paper boats with twisted black ink answers have unfolded,
Escapism: A kingdom has crumbled,
A ruin beneath an ocean,
Admitting I know nothing,
I wash ashore

Sometimes,
I open my mouth,
And you come out,
All of my teeth follow you,
Sometimes,
I turn my eyes,
And I see a picture of you
My heart sleeps in my stomach,
Sometimes,
I wake up,
And all of my fingers just fall off

My hands are seismic,
They shake against my neck,
Fingers like teeth walk across my frailties,
And waves knock against my chest

Nakedness and manifestations of the white noise mind traffic,
I watch the world turn before the fabricated glory of torches without flames and chariots without horses,
All saturated with the molecular movements of the air made with melodies not played for You,
This is the concrete sea of gasoline’s grace of novelties I once spoke of when I was a prince of sleepless men and my heart was determined to germinate the seeds of wicked kings,
Now with a crown cast down and cracked,
I am a dystopian eclipsing a dying sun to cast shadows on sleeping silent sinking houses,
As I watch them go down to where I've made my bed before,
I recall how they make me turn in my sleep before You,
Keeping keys deep below bowing floorboards whining with the weight of weeping willows grown by ghosts of a life once sewn and patched by my pity of distorted desperation,
My fingers keep my dreams from unraveling,
Locking them up tight tonight by hiding my face from it all,
Closing my eyes with my palms,
My lamps are bathed in blackness,
Darkness covers darkness,
And then I feel your hands lower the veil,
I see holes made by instruments of death forged in time,
Scarring You in a place that Kronos nor Thanatos cannot consider to tread,
I put my fingers through them,
I remember now that you paint such beautiful pictures,
Color me with your dreams now,
Your pigments have been poured out,
A gift was given to the dust,
Now I live to give it back to you,
And the haunted fluorescence of Babylon grow dim before your face,
The orchestral cries of mans machines grow silent,
Deep touches deep,
Sharing the oceans between us,
A love infinite consumes me

Hide my face from the spurious hopes of autumn,
They bloom from summer's desperation,
Their fruits are rows of teeth,
And they are planted in night seasons under cold stars,
Which stare down upon the children of those who turn in their sleep,
For they become sleepless men,
And I refuse to be their king

Here I am again,
Confessing the sins of my father manifested in a broken crown prince cracked over kingdoms falling from his tall walls to the rust and the moths before plunging on his polyester floorboard swords,
Yes,
Confessing these things to the carpet strands,
Tidal tales of the waves crashing ghost ships against my chest,
The strength of my youth is spent as a suburban castaway staring through the bars of my island cage built for birds without a voice,
There is an ocean between us,
And I do not know how to swim,
And I see no sign of my tugboat friends,
And I do not have any life saving self crafted defensive mechanical preservation devices to float through my insecurities with,
I am Icarus against a sun setting on these sleeping house that my feather wax weathered oars seem to snap against,
Dimmer days,
Shimmering street lights grab the dusk from the sky,
It is projected upon my midnight eyes,
Dead eyes,
I,
I could cling to these bones but,
They sleep below the earth,
And I stand before the sea,
Do you see me,
Oh God,
You have watched my wells grow dry,
I have set all of my hope on men,
And to you,
I come carrying this broken crown,
Can you hold my hands,
When it is filled with these,
Can you pull me from the water which folds over me

Her name is a knife,
Speak it for me,
Oh neck,
For we say,
*"She is called Night"

Outside the barn ached weakly in the autumn  cold,
The air was still against the magic movements softly exploding in the parallel rows of the hissing sparklers,
The bride and groom would soon pass under their faux glory,
You said I was a good man,
"I know, so are you",
You turned to the ground and stumbled over your confession,
Tripping over the light fog of alcohol in your breath,
"No,
"-no,"
"-I"

"I'm not."

And you walked away
Then the photographer came up to me looking through his one black glass eye and told me
"Say four of the most profound words you ever said."
The hissing stopped,
The light died,
I looked into his magic eye and said
"My sparkler went out."

I hate these man made devils

If I don't see your goodness,
I will forget your face,
And there will be no sunlight for my life,
To dawn on the days of tomorrow,
Only the deep darkness of machines and men,
Where there is no innocence

Oh my King,
Let these not be demons

I told all of my friends why I wanted to get married
They told me there would be no more "weekends"
They didn't understand why I didn't care

My simple dreams
had too many teeth
for a world too
vulnerable to the
complexities of
staying awake

It's cold outside even though it's summer,
That's why I can put my ear to the ground and hear you humming,
You only hum when you're staring down,
Because that's the only time I can look at you without sweating,
Or shaking,
Seismic me,
And your quiet dynamite

I miss the heavy static grunge of your music muffled by my walls,
I miss your glasses,
I miss when you showed emotion,
I miss when you would drive me to school and give me cigarettes,
I miss when you would show me new indie bands and unlock a whole new world for me,
I miss our explosive and ordinarily magical science experiments,
But you dived into the blood contract of the world,
Now you are void,
Now,
You are not you,
You are a puppet to a mouth,
I have never stopped at my every intention,
To rips it's tongue out,
No matter how much yours scorns me,
Brother

I am frightened within a world full of phenomenon dense with the heavy weight of beauty,
Yet these hands are stuck within my chest,
Carrying a dream bereft of color and time,
Always left behind

I don't feel bad for you,
Not being able to sleep,
You created your own demons,
I'm one of them

This time,
I blame me,
Fall is coming,
I hope the season will ******* away with the leaves

My father never told me that I would have to fight nightmares,
Or I would have to let the blades of the past wade against my legs,
Until they disappeared in the high field behind me under the fog,
He never told me terrible things would happen to us all

Yesterday,
I learned to breathe

4,268 people will get married tomorrow,
146,357 people will die tomorrow,
Tomorrow I will be moving 2,724,666 miles per hour standing still,
Underneath 275,000,000 new stars,
Its 3 A.M. now,
Tomorrow you'll still be awake,
**** my bed,
For in it,
I turn,
And the sun looks over my shoulders

The things I cannot forgive myself for,
They are dead trees,
They are angry ghosts

Wait,
Shouldn't I have used laundry detergent?
I should have,
Shouldn't I have loved her,
Shouldn't I?

I,
I drift between starlight,
To forget it all,
Trying to hide from pictures that reopen blinding wounds,
Like magmatic pillars,
Rising,
Spitting,
Gasping,
Combusting: I cannot hold them down with my hands,
They settle and vulcanize around my heart,
A thick thick crust now...
Even though they are seismic,
These spaces keep me safe,
Drifting,
Breathing,
Dark but not dark,
Dying but not dead,
Breathing,
Just Breathing

A cold room for puddles of blood,
Yes its true,
My conscience is slowly dripping down my fingertips,
Can you see me becoming the monsters that grow teeth over us?
Listen,
Just listen,
Wolf Queen,
You know I can't give my hands to you,
Matchstick man,
How long will I have to burn away my roots?
How long do we have to burn?
The self destructive gene...
Ashes-
I have no hands to catch the ashes
You know I loved the sound of rain more than the sound of my own pulsing blood,

Dreams spill over these days,
I told you,
When I release the spectrum in my chest,
It would absorb the colors of this world,
Hiding from my own face I,
I have become,

Nothing

I sleep with a ghost,
For it cannot be I that has flesh,
A specter for a dying town,
Memories trapped in dusty pictures,
Scattered everywhere here,
I stood still in this place and watched the movements of decay,
Decay into

Nothing

All my colors are bleeding out
All my colors are bleeding out
All my colors are bleeding out

Hot and sad on asphalt,
Knowing I never wanted to be here,
I clench my crunching knuckles,
Raise my fists up to the cold stars and scream-
**"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!"

Beds were never made to die on

I can't pretend to be happy,
I can't pretend to be successful,
I can't pretend to be confident,
I can't pretend to be strong,
What comes first?
If I just tell myself I am, do I become these?
Is that my chicken?
Am I it's egg?

Why do these things exist-
These vices of our own invention?
To numb the mind,
To numb the soul,
In these black emulations,
Or to step outside and truly live,
To be vulnerable in the wild dangers of risk-
Beating from the arteries of the unprecedented freedom from circumstance,
To live truly,
Or to die within simulation,
That is the question of the twenty first century,
And I am stuck in between a choice,
So with shaking fingers I sew my eyes shut from it all and think,
"Thank God it's not 2 P.M. yet."
If you've ever fallen backwards in front a television you aren't watching,
You know exactly what I'm talking about

I don't care if it's after twelve,
I'm still calling it breakfast

Oh kings of listlessness,
You fish men,
You climb high into glass towers,
You made this city a fishing bowl,
Even though we don't swim

Time speaks to all things,
And beneath quiet clouds,
I am diffusing

You'll open your mouth for the whole world to fall in,
I know

I met someone today,
I knew I would because I was alone all day,
I bumped into him at the coffee shop,
Almost spilling my coffee,
After I caught my balance, my gaze lifted upward,
I looked at myself straight and the eye and said,
"Excuse me, do I know you?"
And I replied,
"No, you don't know me at all. But I think if you did, you would hate me."
"Yeah-" I said
"I think I do already."


"Then I'll make sure we never meet again."

Excuse of a veiled man:
"I was lonely."

Stereotypes manifesting always,
(Always)
Trying to form themselves from something once seen,
But not really believing in oneself,
I see ignorance,
I see arrogance,
I see the lack of hunger,
Observing such savage pride of life,
I run from it all into a previous state,
(Anonymity)
I've reached the heights of total in-completion,
I build walls of isolation upon myself,
I am the collateral default of widespread degradation,
I stand in the gap between teeth and consumption,
I am the breed conceived by prey and predator,
Widespread suspended animation: that is our future,
We've tried to replicate the human makeup with mechanical frames,
And the translation of electronic gates,
Yet this is a folly,
For staring at the mirrors of selected life in an artificial environment,
Numbs our lives with emulation and self delusion,
The days of nobility dismantle into fragments and sink to the bottom of the glass,
Never to be turned over again,
Scattered,
Living among remnants of a life once lived with some sort of intensity,
Now smoldered in a quite ferocity of anger beneath the surface,
(Quiet tremors coming in flames)
Because we don't live our dreams,
We stand in the shadows of ruins,
We are afraid of the future,
We are afraid of the past,
Where does that leave us?
Leave me?
I stand on the edge of The Void
I'm holding myself hostage in the self sabotage entourage of the usual suspects,
Our friends, our families,
Disconnected with all intentions of coming together,
Because they die in front of their screens,
Not really living,
Right?
Light pollution massacre...
We'll fall like stars