I will never be wealthy
but I can help you see
clearly to our shared humanity
in print and polished prose
that represent those
who are not close to me
but in poverty are me,
a part of this universal family.

I found a journal from a homeless man
and his words worked within
my previous position,
words with the same pain
I was once burdened with
when I was homeless.
I had a journal to
though this one
is a little different.

I came at a different angle
but this person is not a stranger
this is just one aspect
of our singular story
that should unite us in our humanity.

Desire is the will of flesh
Wanting to pleasure oneself
And when it harms no one
Whose business is it
But your own

Everyone has a light to share. It may burn dim or shine so bright it blinds the masses. There is a story in each of you, a lesson I can learn. In some cases I have been blessed to share some of your wonderful insights while someone of you remain a beautiful mystery. Just remember at the end of the day you are unique, your wonderful, and you are appreciated because you bring happiness to those who know and love you.

The butcher’s bane,
the ****** mess
I came to see,
a cracked carcass
laying displayed,
fetid, and crumbling
with rot
because the butcher forgot
to take a day off.

Now,
beneath the dust
the stench of
a week’s worth
of decay
sprays
out of
the doorway,
tempting strangers
who pass that way
to wretch
violently,

while familiar faces
face regret
for not checking in
with their old friend
the butcher.

Old eyes flutter open,
awakened by the sound
of soft water on
a car roof,
and a sharper thud.

Spheres of light,
blur,
breaking the night.
They vary in color
shape, and size,
while thin streams
of liquid slide
down the rear window.

The upholstery
is torn,
from time
and its stiches
being stretched
too far.

Blurred points of pressure
push in on his fog filled brain
as the rain
continues.

He rolls down one window
allowing the pungent odor
of sweat
and old ***** cloths
to spill out.

Another thud,
is followed by
an angry voice
bellowing
“You need to move this car!”

The old man moves
crawling from the back
to the front
disturbing the junk
he has acquired.

With leaden bags
and burning red eyes
from his harsh life
he tries to
start his car.

It will not move.

So, the city takes
the last place
this old man
called home.

Unfortunately, I frequently find though I have traversed the roads of my mind struggling to understand myself, and my own emotions, I am still subject to the intents and judgement of familiars and strangers.

You cannot guard your heart
against the grief of loss
for very long.

Cause the pain will creep
while you’re asleep
and find you
waking in tears.

Even years
after the conscious pain
has lain dormant
a sound, a scent,
a sight will send
you back in again
to the place
you hadn’t been
in a long time.

The mind finds
ways to make you remember
whether you want to or not.
The only way to the lose the pain
is to die.

To be seen
By amorous eyes
Feel the friction from
Those positions
Of paralleled affections
With her long and
Glamorous thighs
Soft curling tongue
Athletic with desire’s
Fevered urgency

To lap love’s
Pooling juices

To linger
With fingers
Rolling softly
Across her skin
Hear her sighing

To feel her flesh vibrating
Her breath climaxing
In unison
Then sated
After ***’s fury has abated

To speak and listen
While cuddling
What a wonderful
Weekend that would be

Some people think that helping others is unselfish. I say that it is a selfishly smart act. By investing time and effort to making this world a better place you not only improve the condition of life for those around you, but for yourself as well. When you act with genuine kindness and sincere goodwill people respond in kind. Plus you get that gushy warm feeling of pride and satisfaction.

I have
strong arms
to hold you
but a gentle spirit
that does
not want to own
or control you.

If I had white wings
of soft feathers
on my back
I would wrap
you up in them
to protect you
from any attack,
and if I was heavenly
I would still
submit to thee
an angel’s decree
of love and devotion
given joyfully.

I will not drown
in those deep blue eyes
but swim those seas
for as long as my
lifespan allows me.

No surprise
you know that
this is not a lie
I am ever your devotee.

So, whatever or whenever
you need or want me
call and I will come running
yours until
you are done with me.

I have never loved a truth
only partial lily lips
blushed with life,
a life that was projected
from previous experiences
tid bits of passing familiarities
extrapolated, fragmented,
then placed into an impossible puzzle.

That is the tragedy.
Though I love humanity
I have never loved the truth of her
only the illusion that she can never be
plastered in poetry
dedicated to me.
The lie fits perfectly into my dreams
so I sleep with
the hopeful heart of humanity
because that is the only love
that is true to me.

I look beyond the black vastness
Of the infinite
that spreads out before me.
My eyes are closed
and I know
that the solid world
of reality
waits past my eyelids.
However, celestial explosions
of white, black, and green
flow through the darkness
that envelopes me.
I am sightless
but sometimes
as I breathe
I find my way
halfway between
the waking world
and the visions in my dreams.
Slippery stones
and water that gleams,
saran wrapped
potato beings
are strange portraits
of this unconscious scene.
It is the breath that carries me
as I float slightly
above my body.
It is the silence and solitude
that was forced upon me
by an angry and violent
human being.
Perhaps, it was the first steps
Of a ten year old boy
On his way to find
the inner peace
that still eludes me.
Or, maybe, it is
just a faulty memory
that deceives me.

The redness is not toxic.
It is the people who are caustic
making her nauseas and cautious.
Pink skin pressed in
with razor thin
piercing pressure
to ease the pain
to silence her brain;

Cause no one is listening
to her sobbing,
cause no one is looking
for her scars,
more inside then out.

People care about her,
but they are distracted,
so soft motions become
harder,
and she becomes some
sort of sick lumberjack
trying to saw off that
pain called life.

How unfair
to see her go there
cause she is only
twelve.

There can be dignity in suffering
Not the Christian kind
That sacrifices this life
For some sort of mythological reward
But the kind that takes their lessons in pain
And learns to be stronger, and gentler
The kind that teaches kindness
To those with so little to share
When the so called wretched poor
Places their faith in the goodness
Of a stranger a danger perhaps
But not a lapse in judgment
More like a hopeful promise
That swears we can all be
Better human beings

America the gutted stretch
Run by those rutting leches
A rotting wreck of corporate decay

Those shattered remains
Of splattered and strange
Human beings and broken houses

Scarred landscape
Murderously mutilated with skyscrapers
Those dammed land rapers

A hundred wooden shacks that
Housed such a wonderfully strange history
Traded in the economic bin
For one big blocked box
Where only wealthy men
And trophy women
Can ride to the very top

Warring walls let men condemn
Other nations we might call friend
Thin boundaries made of leaves and death
Imagined markers that separate state and self
The illusion stands stronger than any borderline
Humanity so easily defined as the other
Cause the enemy outside the gates
Is supposed to be worse than the beast inside that waits
Withering intellects that debate merits and levels of hate
While class warfare does exist
The upper puppeteering the middle class
While the bottom is dismissed

And we both lived
Neverly after
Happy in laughter
Breathing seconds in
This skin
Swimming in
Infinity and eternity
It is all we can ask for
And more then we deserve

That light enters
through my window
and lets me see
little floating particles
that seem to flicker
in and out of existence
like tiny twinkling stars.

The crow, parrot, raven, and parakeet
Meet across the cracked street
Scuttle along the wrecked concrete
Where human feet once walked
Flutter up steep uneven steps
Not missing those tripping fools who
Cracked the earth with metal tools
That split lumber with chainsaws
That destroyed thin and thick limbs
With loud rusted wood chippers
That incinerated hated legal papers
Shredding evidence with precision
These birds do not miss one person
Just go searching the soft grounds
for deliciously slimy worms

The wolf, coyote, and lonely fox
Hop and trot from here to cross
Separate paths to their favorite snacks
Bloated bodies swelled with stinky fat
Exposed corpses sitting back so that
They could watch their favorite clips
Catch invisible monsters on their phones
People who now become kibbles and bits
For two howlers and one quiet hunter

A mouse, possum, and racoon
Hunt under the split moon
Going through the monsoon
Of decaying human garbage
Devouring all the waste they want
Finally, free from the humans
Who used to hunt and **** them
Now they just have to watch out for
Other local predators

But all these animals are so much better
For the lack of such a destructive species

Broad generalizations frequently decrease the fluidity of human understanding and growth.

It is Sunday morning
And it used to be
Had to go to church
To find the divinity

Now I see the beauty
In our reality
See the sparkle
Of the divine in humanity

It’s not a god particle
Or supreme consciousness
More like a mental clarity
Empathy, wisdom and intelligence

I am not lazy when I do not finish a book.
If it does not snag
and sweep me up in revelry,
explode my soul with inspiration,
or cause new insights to flood from me,
if I am not immersed to the point
that the I of me ceases to be,
if it is not for learning or
these other things,
then it is not for me.

I am a terrible human being. **** storming, anger machine that spits hateful things in poetry.
My memory is a landfill, of abuses, and poorly remembered happier times. I struggle to find the truth behind my anger, sadness, and regret. Is it what I remember, forget, or can’t forget that has ****** me up? Her face causes the familiar rage to rise. Voice spewing lies, or what I think is lies. I spent most of my life trying to figure out how it was my fault. I am still trying to figure how it might be my fault. Hyper kid, tired and lonely mother, the formula does not mix. I cannot calculate the value of her violence minus what I did to deserve it. Did I earn it? People aren’t all bad? I can remember going to the movies a couple of times, traveling and listening to music, holidays and presents, but in the present all that is shaded. I am jaded by being locked in an unlocked room, cut off in solitary confinement, because she got busted for the violence. I remember how she had to know what I told the counselor. So I stopped telling them anything.
A smart man knows that human memory is not perfect, so I keep trying to figure out how I deserved to get hit, why I deserved to be isolated, verbally degraded. Part of it had to be my fault, cause people just don’t lash out. I struggle to find out what it was all about because I am scared. If I can’t figure out the reason, if there was no good reason, could I become her?

The folds of
burnt black metal
pinch his skin,
breaking the flesh
that slips within
tiny gaps.

The knight gasps
as pain explodes
and trickles of blood
start to flow.

To this
his page says,
your forgot your
aketon.

The newly knighted fool
stares and drools,
stuttering “what?”
and the page replies
your underpadding.

Oh dear in dressing to be a princess
you cut your feet on glass slippers,
ate the poisoned apple of conformity,
had *** with a big abusive beast,
wept deep in dark dreams as you slept,
gave up the sea and your voice,
forgot how to sing, swim, and learn,
traded childhood dreams for adult schemes,
so you can aspire to other’s desire
to confine you to your pumpkin carriages
and strange boring marriages.

This bipolar late winter weather
is so confusing that the birds
return as quickly as the flowers
that try to bloom early.

The sun merges with the horizon.
Until, orange rays give way
to light blue.
Then that hue
gives into a darker view.

At night the lamplights
wear rainbow halos
that signify
the function of
my tired eyes.

While all other trees
are bereft of leaves
the conifers confer
their prickly beauty upon me;
Scratching my skin
only as fiercely
as I press in
to their personal space.

Always moving forward
and off at an awkward angle
I pursue the white light
half of the moon
that makes a Cheshire grin.
The high school windows
across the street
reflect strange distortions
back at me
as I walk the parking lot
watching the darker shade
within my shadow.
I slink up onto
the sidewalk
that is a gray portrait
of its pock marked past.

At last, I come in from the outside
losing what’s left of the bright night
and nature’s musical life.
I walk the sterile colorless corridors
that cut and cross to nowhere,
while my spirit yearns
to return to
the outside world I was
just describing for you.

Language is the way i love humanity with an outsiders affection. Listening to the language of their stories, as they slowly reveal the essence of who they are, tentatively exposing just enough to intrigue but not scare strangers away.

I got eye strain and back pain
from sitting in the chair all day,
working my life away,
clicking on keyboards and mouses,
while staring at computer screens,
and ignoring other things;

I am detached from the fact that
there is more than just me,
because everyone I see,
every single human being
has turned into pixelated images
on the monitor I’ve monitored
all day.

The dark
Night water
That ripples
And reflects
The moon
And highway
Lamplights
Looks like
Small strands
Of infinity’s
Reflected hair

It is the dark that makes us appreciate the light, cold that makes us appreciate warmth, moistness that makes us appreciate dryness, and sadness which makes us appreciate happiness. That is one of the many reason I love stories that do not have a happy ending.

If I said I didn’t mean to make you cry
Then that was a big blatant lie
I wanted tears to fall
For you to sink into a sullen state
Then rise inside a phoenix like furnace of rage
Reborn and open to the world
Ready to explore
That is why with words
I implore you to feel
The heights of anguish, rage, and joy
So you can slip the restraints of dull emotions
And ride the rising tide
Of the beauty in this one life
We all get to live

He wears
a dull faced
indifference.

Thinks I am
a dim wit,
because
I do not
pursue
the same
worthless
*******.

Brown eye,
brown hair,
well-trimmed
small beard,
love his
gold rush
reality
tv
show.

His goals,
are a product
of a limited
mindset,
rectangular vision,
in an oval like
world.

No mind expanding
conversation,
just me
patiently waiting
for him to dislodge
his slack jawed
visage
from those
cellphone images.

With the voice of eloquence
and precisely placed poetry
she asked her love to be
a being of stability.

However, I longed to be
the one she looked too to see
love’s gentle eyes reaffirming
turning life’s truths
into reassuring simplicity
making a promise that I
could never really guarantee.

It is a good thing she did not look to me
cause all I could promise her
is this moment in eternity
all I could give her is my passion
and gentle but attentive curiosity.

I am space
Expansive
Not expensive
No price to put upon
The wonder of infinity
You gaze upon
It is free to see
All that celestial beauty

The introductions come
Words phasing
Crossing the barrier of my character
Or at least what she thinks
My character is
Pleasantries are reduced
To simple statements
No observations involved
Only assumptions made
And I do not care enough
To trump their misconceptions

Life shifts
from daylight shades
of cloudy grey
and turquoise
to dark blue.

I train my eyes
heaven ward
to watch
for a sparkle
of you.

Looking for the twinkle
of my grandfather’s
ancient eyes,
looking for
the perfect star cluster
to help me realize
that his memory
still lies
behind my eyes.

I look for a trigger
that I figure
will spark
the memory
of his bearded voice,

but this night
is not good enough
to remind me of
the lost one I love.

So, I slip and surrender to
the sadness of
missing the missing pieces.
Cause my memory
of deceased family
has been fragmented
and distorted by time.

It is skyfall
lightning cracks infinity
splits eternity
between the dangerous
jagged white lines
and the booming thunder.

Ball point ballistics,
not quite as destructive
as an empty heart,
but powerful enough
to shake us up.

Even in its fury
I still sleep soundly.

I am not made to lead
Nor be the barer of responsibility
But neither am I a sheep
Who follows sheepishly
The closest thing that fits me
In our current stretch of humanity
Is being a sage

Her iris is absorbed in an
elegant explosion,
a big bang
of hazel glory
that expands from
the center of
her ocular universe.

I let the heater broil my skin.
29 degrees short of a blistering lobster boil
Turning my cheeks two shades less than crimson
Just so I can keep my weary red eyes alert.

Cause even though the night sky may relax
My raggedly overtaxed mind,
Exhaustion still ruins evening’s solitary stillness.

The stiller I sit
The more I wish to slip
Into dreams of yesterday
Dipping into deep and destructive waters of nostalgia
Scabbing over my itchy scratch and sniff pain
With highlight clips and theme songs
From my old favorite tv shows

Wanting to wash away today's pain
With chocolate covered strawberries
Till I restore my belief in the brotherhood
Of faith and purpose
That reason and enlightenment murdered

Mind running engine running
Vents pumping out dragon’s breathe
But the heat does not hurt
The carbon monoxide might suffocate me
But the fire does not burn
Memories keep strangling me
Till I can barely breathe
And the only thing I can inhale is regret
The only truths I know
Are the sorrows I have not felt yet

20 minutes to warm my flesh
To think and scribe the thoughts that others hide
20 minutes then I switch the heat too cold
Crack the windows and my bones
No longer stuck in the past
No longer struggling to come back
I exist in the now

My dog is
going to die
but the tears
do not come.
They are hovering
just out of reach
on the otherside.

This time
as someone
I love dies
I intend to
remain
by their side
as they journey
into that last night.

The last time
I was too busy
too distracted
to visit,
but in my defense
I thought
he had
plenty time
to live.

The time
before that
I cannot excuse
I left her alone
a withering
figure
stuck in a bed
till she was dead.

I know most
have the blessing
of believing
their grieving
is only temporary.
Their guilt is absolved
because after all
they will see
their loved ones
in heaven.
So, it is easy
to take people
and animals
for granted
but to me
this planet
and life
is a one time ride.
So, I will
hold this grief
and guilt inside
so that I remember
to be kind.

I used to long for
metal doors
that melted
forming
pool like portals
to other worlds.

Places where monsters
roamed distorted landscapes,
where skies rained
drops of purple
forming portal puddles
that would take me
to places even farther
from my messed up family.

I dreamed of
adventures tempered by pain
cause I felt there must be
a balance to pay in my fantasies.

Scars for freedom,
bruises equaling
the level of love I deserved,
the level that would earn my
warrior princess’s affection.

Through proof of
unfair punishment
while wielding healing hands
I would help
other victims like myself.
Earning a redemption
that was never necessary.

How strange that even in
my fairytale dreams
I treated myself as unfairly
as the daytime beast
that left red marks on me.

But now that I have found peace
I no longer dream of
a troubled love like that.
I no longer feel I need to earn back
that dignity and tranquility
that was so brutally
stolen from this mother’s son.

I am not depressed,
barely dressed
in a long shirt
and dark blue sweats.

I just want to sleep,
let me be
free
from your
wanna motivate me
society.

I’m not complaining
cause even though
it is really raining
and my room
doesn’t have much heat,
I got more than
I need to eat.

I just can’t seem
to gleam
any energy.

Generally,
I am a much better
version you see,
but this week
I think
I just need
a vacation
from that
urgency,

so, I am going to sleep.

Please do not wake me.

I’ve been to the ledge,
looking into an abyss
certain that I
wouldn’t be missed
and even if one person did,
they’d be better off in a world
without me in it.

I’ve seen shadows creeping
while I was almost sleeping
halfway between
waking and a dream,
with a spiderlike scribble
crawling across my blanket
that I couldn’t smash
or even shake off.

I’ve been swept up
in a manic moment,
then began drowning
in an endless pit,
and almost died in it.

So many self-inflicted
near misses, electric,
pill bottle, and razor kisses
but my body insisted
on living when my mind
wanted a quiet end
to the painful buzzing.

Some say it gets better,
and for me it did,
some say all you got to do
is keep trying to live,
some day you will make it.
It’s one struggle at a time.

But sometimes people
go into those dark caverns
and never come back.
It’s not a beautiful death
just a tragic final act.

-2021

I listen beyond the night fatigue
Nature sounds barely dinner
The country road are quiet

History looks forward to me
Filling moments of silence
I search old memories
For the various stages of me

Hazel eyes closed
Find darkness that is deeper than
And cold starless sky
Infinity allows my identity disappear
I am little me
Full of unsymmetrical scars
And superhero dreams
Fearless

Little me
Traveling down forest laden roads
On a sunny summer day
With my grandpa

Little me
Kissing razor shadows
Hope, sharp and stinging
Young soul, so solitary
Longing for the void

Little me
Wondering why
I have to live
With all my pain
Buried under
Her rage and pain

Little me
The insignificant adult
Drawing strength from
Despair
And poetry from death

Calls wet stones
Glimmering in Sandy dreams
Come back to this shade of reality
No real lesson learned
Just traveling back and forth
As the pendulum of personal history swings

You were the chaos
of swift currents
sending me under
in a ridiculous
blunder
as I was consumed
by my desire for you.

Angry, jealousy,
all things I thought
I had discarded,

but the brick wall
that was ****** red
which I built up
to protect myself
crumbled
in your clumsy presence
as you intruded
in the life
I had carefully constructed.

Sleep deprived,
driven by emotions
which I knew
clouded my rational mind,
I still longed for you;

And the thought
of the loss
of something
that never was
caused
black waves
of anxiety.

Until, today
when I found me.
I am not hurting
or heartbroken,
but working
on knowing
that some attachments
are better than others.

2015 and as I look back
I cannot find the heart to laugh
Losses build shadow blocks
Oil and rot that clog tired arteries
Cracking my positive disposition

The silence says so much.
Nothingness scratching at
my stream of consciousness.

Valued for the vacuum
that ***** the soul
from the bottom of my shoes
giving me sapphire shades
of sorrow,

Velvet and suede
silk stalkings
that float, fading away,
as I dream of filling the silence
with love,

But like always
there is no one there.

It was a
suicidal game
of self-destruction,
as I walked slowly
on the white winter ground.

Four or more
sleep deprived nights
because of some
drug a doctor prescribed
that nearly fried
my already fragile mind.

For the first time in my life
I decided to give cigarettes a try.
Cancer be ******
because I had already been
******* condemned.
So, I smoked them.

Pushed to the edge,
I punished myself
with cold indifference
popping the last bits
of this sick prescription.

Earlier,
I asked the doctor
if I could take these
before I went to bed.
I guess he didn’t
listen to a word I said.
Was it his ignorance
or merely negligence
that nearly did me in?

On the fourth night,
I watched my best friend
collapse from his asthma
because he was
running to call the cops
to come and save me.

His efforts made me laugh,
as I indifferently considered
just finding a place to hide
while I waited to wither and die.

You have a citric tongue
Acidic but tasty

You are a vacation
In mental *******

Sulphurous words
That burn me
Full of furious reactions
Such an oceanic passion
A deep blue sea
Of eyes that look into me

Your body is a nation
Barely opened borders
I flow into you
Heart heavy and tired
Poetic soul branded illegal
Desire makes me criminal
Wanting those wanton lips
Chapped from our heated kiss

Make me your facebook friend
To share your soul
In the form of digital content
Then bury me in cement
Solidifying your foundation

Building us up from lust
And a cosmic elation
With a milky way
*******

Till both of us
Return fully reformed
From the ravishing rains
Of that ****** storm