As I lose my way
in an endless ocean
made of flowing knowledge,
my head feels like an anchor,
towing down my heart
below the waves of facts,
to the depths of information
as I drown I do attract
insatiable predators,
all the while,
above the surface
all is doomed to fall
beneath the rising tide,
slowly crawling up
to eat the howling sky

she wants the world to know
she wants to show
she wants to know the world
personified
she wants that world to want
to know her
she kissed his mind
with lips of words
she wants the world
to know her

I no longer
wear hats
or drink from cups

the eyes of cats
are searchlights
and curiosity
is killing us

Thoughts take off
From dandelion head
I lost them
but found one
In the palm
of your hand

The buttery eye of a butterfly caught my sigh slipping shy to the windowsill where your lips spill insomnia powering watermills undefeated by the modern Don Quixotes. My muse breathes in higher frequency... I'm telling her to stop... Stop. My thoughts don't rely on my lungs anymore for they have organs of their own... as well as separate agendas. They paint you psychedelicate, frail and yet invincible. Murderously vulnerable. Violently tender. The hunted is the hunter. The femme fatale.

Trickle,
You are picturesque abstract
Elongating droplet stroke
Smiling on surfaces
Fondling oxidized tissue
Making love to ozone
From afar

Trickle
I am painfully patient
deliberate witness
to your
becoming
A river

Breaking my o-zone of comfort
Vapor distorting solidity
Fall back unto me
Bring back the salt
that I squandered
But don’t
Deliver this clarity
razor-sharp
Through the fabric of irises
So impossibly deep
In the flesh of my
Indigo sky
Embedding eternally
That state-shifting
Thought foreign body
Lost in the cobwebs
Of amber-caught impulses

**** all artificial lights
no natural causes but
natural darkness
fake lights for true dark
blackest of blacks
like charred tree bark
leave but one imposter
glowing in the gloom
just pale enough
to write onto
and that's my door to you

Are you aware,
did you know,
have you been told
you've got killer voice,
leaving me no choice
but preemptive action...
Let's ensure mutual destruction
of clothes;
my thoughts
made those illegal
in a secret meeting;
that security council
in my head...
while the heart was busy beating,
doing its own thing...
Captives in my cells
twisted and bled out
their escape plans...
Excuse me, got sidetracked,
what's your name again?
I'm twenty-three
but only if you switch the digits.
For a high-functioning whatever,
I must say I'm admirably sane
but you pull the wrong lever,
and the lyrics spill with the melody
breaking the levee.
So what do you do for a living?
That's adorable.
How are we still sitting
and talking here?
You thought I'd be taller;
I was expecting you'd run off screaming.
Let's drink to that, the small victories!
Time will tell what's next
if only we listen,
instead of reading more text,
unless we're OK with missing out.
God, my thoughts do talk loud!
When did your face get so near?
Lips go "clink", and eyes go "Cheers!"

every grain of sand
is secretly
a polyhedron
that despises science
like every grain of joy
has at least one side
that hurts

slowly going crazy
twisted and burnt
two different faces
one charcoal soul

sizzling and blazing
crackling in the mud
I've been tainting lately
all I touch and learn

falling out of grace
beyond forgiveness
I return
into the ashes of my days
my heart is now the urn

my deepest smiles are cuts
into the flesh of joy
I need to learn the art of healing
before it's all destroyed

flying now erratic circles
I'm the moth who didn't flee
glutinous tongue of careless wind
caught me in a single lick
pulling inexorably into the opening
through the lid ajar I went
above the window sill
and straight into the eyes
of a room clad in light

it's turning warm to hot as I orbit closer
and closer still to the ceiling deity
I came in from the wide open void
I came in from the purposeless
the great free emptiness
where skies were grey and cold
I came in to embrace the bright frail sun transparently imbued
with the gift of gods

I pledge my wings to you
though charred into disfigured trails like brush strokes on some
impressionist painting

No longer are you transparent
no longer am I winged
and for a split-second in suspended animation
it was worth it ten times over

your expressing sunshine
like unforgiving aspects
raising ******
camouflaging silver
meshing razor teeth
because back it up honey
lunacy is saccharine sweetness
  
your suppressing moonshine
chains of bitter freedom
rays are often hidden
beneath a skin of ashes
there is taste to savour
of warmth and promise
where madnesses collide

your words are razor blades
and I have seen you
shaving others
enough to know
I'd never let you be my barber

for if your mind,
the hand that guides them,
were as sharp,
you'd see that Occam's razor
is not a proper tool of art

do not even blink;
once it's out
there's no holding back
what follows;
lids and eyelashes
keeping in check
all of this
salty bitterness,
a levy or a dam,
and I'd never rhyme your tears
with anything

War by proxy,
the future of conflict
super powers clashing
on foreign soil
in battles fought by locals
divided into camps
pitted against their own
for differing convictions
not for the lack of reasons;
fuel to the fire added
by their recruiters
propaganda,
subterfuge,
subversion;
no need to worry about ordnance
and military hardware,
ammo and suplies
they will be provided
duly
by the sponsors;
the agenda is
to drown a patch of land in blood,
with an island built from bones
lonely in the middle,
just big enough for a g-man
to set foot upon,
tie the laces of his boot;
an then move on.
But what of all the residue?
Nothing goes to waste
all will be reused
blood to fuel
bones to amunition
surviving souls to generations of hate slaves

If you're elsewhere building an oasis
somewhere peaceful, someplace quiet,
watch your back and keep an eye
on the silent sky
there are birds of steel and wires
with their artificial brains
roaming, cruising, watching,
their senses and their talons
lent to their
puppeteers, mere employees
looking for a chance,
at that multikill promotion
fingers itching at the joystick...
but outside and back at home,
a prison cell of boredom
waits to chew them in slow motion
to the bombed and the bombing,
to the greedy and the mourning,
we don't call this life
hell is real
we're both prey and hunter
madness is contagious and haunting

The heart, the warmest sea;
night dives in
chasing dreams,
then suddenly
the day has come ashore;
a smile crawls blissfully
and parts the waves
to reach the sun
to ask for more
of the same
exchange of warmth

If truth is omnipresent
then it equals death.
So what am I?
A lie.
Alive.
As long as I'm not gone
nothing's set in stone.
There is time to thrive.

I'm the cracks that crawl
along the cold etched words
I'll be back into the mold
that shelters all of us
but not today.
Before it is all lost,
it all must be gained.

Charcoal hands
draw tales
of flames,
the kind that vow
to end us

Beneath the ash
a spark betrays
your warmest hues,
your sweetest sigh,
igniting you,
my canvas

Caught a wave,
snatched the chance
to ride the tide;
took me straight
through the goosebumps,
the antennae
of the skin
protracted and receiving

...and the ripples multiplied

I always thought
the depths were cold,
not warm
but melody knows best
and I can't wait
to be surprized
holding breath
in the uneasy calm
before the storm

sparks are spilling
from your eyes
you sprinkle them
around,
ignite our hearts
in scorching waves,
we drown

can there be one
you'll save;
what fate awaits
survivors reaching shore;
they go to war
and time will tell
who burns out
and who
remains

(amongst the embers
a victor shall be named)

and even though
I never cease to burn
the last to stand
I see too late
the game is rigged
and charcoal hands
with ashes cold return

There is no savior
for all;
there's even no
individual salvation

You know the cost
of a call,
but that of
conversation?

You can hear,
that I know,
but can you listen?
And when you talk
is it the things
you say
or is it in the way...
What is absent,
is it missing?

let go of the blue
constantly hidden and true
there are too many hills
left to climb
leave all the windmills
behind

let go of the guilt
that your heart is too big
I know it sees too
I'm just a guest visiting
borrowing
your smile just like glue

(mending wings
and severed strings
petal and root)

let go of wet salt
it cannot be your fault
that you shelter our hopes
we come mere vessels
weak and effervescent;
we leave complete with a soul

natural elements
meet
unnatural monuments

primal ingredients
mixed
in a mold of obedience

we'll have none of this
and flee
dull predictability

we weren't meant to be
asleep
through the voyage of history

so we daydream in mutiny
to feed
newborn possibilities

life
a careless child
messy room
scattered toys around

too young for chess
abusing pawns
and queens alike
some lost at best,
others lying broken
on the ground

and me
I am a cube
at the hands of curiosity,
fingers tightly clenched;
is it persistence now
or is it animosity
beating sides and edges
against the circle slot;
it doesn't take a sage
to see
there never was a plot

Are we under cover?
Faces worn like masks
Underneath them, lovers
Friends, if they should ask.

We can veil the light
Of the fire burning,
But could we ever hide
The smoke and heat infernal?

Are we undercover?
Friends, if someone asks
Kept in secret, lovers
Spying their last.

marriage is
just two letters
longer than
mirage
(penned by different feathers)
but is Mr. Age
what matters
as he does
for cars in a garage?

Love doesn't rhyme;
the rules imposed,
the frames we chose,
do not apply,
although we try
to tame its flow
we sink below,
we seek
salvation by escape;
we bravely dove
but there's the threat
of drowning

the rhythm
and the melody
it's giving us,
all random...
but do we
lose ourselves
to find them,
or is it them
we lose
to find ourselves,
I cannot help
but wonder...

The shelter,
The harbor,
The home,
The heartfelt warmth
Weaving through marrow and bone,
Undulating softness like no other
All in the lulling of a song,
The voice of the mother.

We brave uncharted waters
on boat with crumpled sails
We float where it is hotter
but that's another tale

We lose ourselves on purpose
in storms and surging waves
We dwell upon the surface
but it's the depths we crave

bodies are galaxies;
and within ours
constellations
go all rogue in seconds,
talking to each other
without
permission and consent;
without our knowledge;
there is a plot
behind our backs,
a conspiracy
of unexplored possibilities;
and like plastic dolls
at the hands of gods
we are drawn so close,
a clash ensues
of comfort zones
with the aid of gravity;
we'll regain control,
of course,
just before impact

In my head her lips white-hot are melting
Burning red are thoughts my blood is pelting
This is not a dream
This is no fantasy
This is not a whim
The lover and the enemy are wed
And she's the sum of everything
That words have never said

Conflagration rages
through the neuron forest;
in the end were lies,
deceived by honesty.

The first to flee
were all the beasts,
while the humane
remained behind
to burn up in a trace
of sapience.

Invisible lines and curves
Extend from skin to skin,
In waves, from eyes to eyes
Closing the distance faster than light
Is this gravity,
Catching the eyes,
Binding the minds,
Bending the thoughts,
Charging the skin,
Pulling us in?

My inner Trump is building walls;
defense
from 'fugee thoughts
and outside influence

The borders are now closed.
Nothing's coming through,
not even you

Can you dig?
Or climb?
Or fly?
Up for coup?

They breathe you in,
my charcoal dreams,
and into life
their ashes bleed.

And everything is canvas
frozen into silence,
letting go of notions, old,
anticipating me
to set flame to the cold
and sear through the sheen
of diamonds in their numbness.

I found a new way
of being misunderstood
all the while
looking for the opposite;
arriving at the shores
of the wrong land,
so my discoverers
and your natives
immediately went to war;
thus worlds collide
at the hands of words

her lips,
of blooming poppy,
hold promises of *****,
slipping past the choices,
knowing they'd be caught
too late, and not before
they've met desires
secretly
in shadows underneath
the moonlit balconies

Do you remember me
because I do
remember you
like the sea waves -
the shore sands;
for I surrendered truth
into the scarred hands
of time
where our silence
left its hesitation marks...

Behind the floating point
we, the other digits,
mere fading ripples,
undulate until
we drown into oblivion

We bowl and yet
no ball is thrown;
our gazes roll
through lanes unseen

two ends,
two pairs
of eyes;

whoever wins,
scatters all
the thoughts
on the other end
like pins

Droplets
On windows
And on skin;
Telltale translucency
Are you
A window as well
With a chance of opening?

too long your lips have stared
into the body of my thoughts,
studying the patterns
and the features,
deciphering the blueprints,
my irrational being

...those petals,
their textures burning in the color,
popping out like embers, fed
every regulated breath

you are compelled
to lick away the dryness,
wipe the prints and traces,
put out the flames covertly...
but make it look casual:
you cannot be caught spying;
or the government of words
denies everything,
severing the strings,
abandoning its secret desire
behind enemy lines,
to be captured, questioned,
and tortured
by your very own
collaborationist conscience

Electric light,
a robot sun;
the real one,
a god,
who was dethroned,
and now we make our own,
powered by our blinding
arrogance and vanity

And all the wars
those eyes of yours
have started,
and all the gore
blown open in the hearts
like grotesque gardens,
by beauty, battle-hardened,
yes, all of this is lost to words;
none ever cross
the lips of worlds
exhaling in the fallout
following the meltdown.

My summer smells like deadlines,
for lifelines **** themselves
sometime near spring,
with the serrated rust
of misconstrued martyrdom,
they wither fall
into a ghost who lingers
flaking slow
among the fallen ribbons,
former clothes
torn and thrown away
for the sheets of winter