Dear reader

I am wet with red death
wed to time’s inevitability
and all that is left of the true me
is here for you to read.

So, you should know
my beloved book lover
this weary word smith
must admit
that I love you.

I love you who
are here now
working with me
or against me
the sad, angry,
bitter, and lonely.

And I love you
who have yet to come,
the newly young,
the unborn babies,
the teenager
who will feel
so alone
but might find a home,
and solace from my verses.

And I love all those
who will never know
my words.

Despite my best protestations
And all those hours wrought
With layer upon layers
Of debilitating frustrations
I find that I am fallen
Reckless heart affected
By loves unrequited affections
Silver eyes aflame
That wears poetry’s
And nature’s true name
The author of my desires
Only a digital ghost
Reflected in photos
And words
Flowers and philosophies
I imagine how they sound and tasted
Flowing from the soft full lips
I wish that I could only love
The spirit of her art
But my heart rends it valves
Spends blood furiously
Wanting the seen and unseen
Desiring the poetry of
Her body and mind

We write our regrets in stone
Monuments meant to recognize
Those who will no longer
Be in our lives
Tears of heartache mark
These harsh days
The cruelest and only real fate

We build a brick furnace
to harness
desire's fire,
raise up a spire
to inspire
other people's
urgent desires.
Then with the right wind
we walk in
and really start burning.

From the mainframe
That brought you war games
Head-shots for **** points
Team death match battles
Close to realistic war scenes
On your plasma tv screen
Here your enemies scream
As their heads explode
See your IQ drop
While dexterity improves
As your gaming console
Get used to control
A digital killing machine
Pumped up world war dreams
Cause death is a game
And killing is great
And now our children are well trained
To fly our missile and machine gun
Loaded drones
and shoot down the enemies
Of our sick bloated
Corporate corrupted
Fake free state

Oppressed,
I imagined
the hand of god
swatting
and smashing,
causing flesh,
fat, and skin
to flatten
as bulging blood
and guts
expand from
the form that
was once me.
Till, I become a
crimson life stain.

They come in
shifting tides
of low to high
and back again.

Wavering
wavelengths
of unpredictable
measures,
the ultimate
uncertainty
principal.

Like sound
which
moves from
one pitch
to the next
it is so complex.

Like Schrodinger’s cat
there one day
and the next
all that is left
is ****
and a dead feline.

In time
you may realize
these chemical lies,
though sweet
cannot compete
with your biology,

But mostly
you will devour me
and spit me out
savagely,
calling me
the messenger
of things
you do not want to hear
as you bury me
in heartbreaking isolation
and obscurity.

Religion is no longer
the ****** of the masses
Now the crowd
collects digital devices
Small screens
With gaming fantasies
No time to think
Just stay linked
Plugged in
To the distraction system
Bionic Bluetooth ears
Cellphones, tablets, and laptops
Connected to the four gigged network
Subdued in red eyed wonder
Burning retinas
Eyes strained beyond
Our capacity to remember
Real human pain
We are numbed to our neighbors
Awash in constant stimulus
Sounds like stimulants
Where only electronic static
reminds us to remember reality

There are men who died
Not fighting with weapons
But with words
No shooting
But standing up

I rest upon their shoulders
A coward with a hero’s heart
Too lazy to be a real activist

Too tired to fight this bulk *******
So I write about it
With love
It is almost the least I can do
Short of not sharing anything with you

Stones speckled shades of grey
Wear wet strands of forest green
Slippery strange smelling moss
And delightful leafy dreams
Constantly cleansed by the stream
Of clear sparkling water

My brain is a wooden ship
rotting from the outside in.
Till termites chew and tare
leaving more holes then I know
that grow and leak more than words.

I lose nouns and verbs,
more than adjective and adverbs.
Conversations are lost.
All experiences
pleasant and painful
average or terrible
are obscured.

Faces and names slip away
Sinking to the bottom
Of this opaque ocean brain
Then life lets the rushing waves
of time take everything
farther and faster away.

The clown in me
sees the mirror man’s
suffering
and camouflages his pain
into puns.
The jokester runs
fast away
from the truth of today.
He plays
with symbols
to say
that I am not ok
but lets laugh
anyway.

You are wounded
and when you heal
You will still feel
The pain
The scar will still
Be there
A crest upon your flesh
But you will still
Be beautiful

It is blindness by consent
Not knowing where we were going
Not caring where we went
Just tearing up the world
As we play follow the leaders

Let the world rot
Let it sink in decay
because I got no faith
in this human race.

A cop blasts red and blue
distracting me
as I am driving through
while he is parked
passing out tickets to
some driver uncertain
what she should do.

This is for all the crazy people thinking that they were made to rule
Walking around with ray ban glasses wearing Armani cause  it’s cool
Believing that they are so much better even when they act like a tool
Don’t give in to the status symbols that people keep making
You think that this is what you’re made to achieve but your mistaken
This is for all you lazy people slumming around and wasting your day
Life isn’t something that you get to do over and over again
There’s always someone out there who could use a friend
And don’t forget there’s a million ways to be a better person
Then standing around debating shuffling lies and cursing
Don’t you know life isn’t a stage for rehearsing
If you’re not trying to make it better than your just watching it worsen
I know you think that it’s so hard to make any improvement
But all it starts out with is a little social movement
This for all the silly dreamers dreaming of a beautiful world
Refusing to just sit back  take it while violence and hate unfurls
Don’t give up when they try to tell you that you’re stupid
You got so many arrows of change so be the heart of cupid
And shine your light of love all over the place

I searched the streets uncertain
corners and alleyways
to find my escape,
a place where
some mythical
love sits and waits.

I looked in libraries,
comic book shops.
not barrooms
where normal people stop,
but everywhere
I might dare
find the other half
of this lonely pair,

Because songs, tv shows,
movies and books
promised me
there was love
somewhere
out there.

But, I am slowly
learning
that that promise
is a cruel lie,
that the only love
I will ever know
is fictional
small fantasies
in paperbacks
or tv screen,

or sometime
in my mind
where I find
only I can touch myself
while dreaming of
a make believe love
that is nowhere to be seen.

Can you imagine what it feels like
To live in fear at night
And even in the daylight
Worried about getting hassled or shot
By local or state cops
Just cause you got
A brown pigment in your skin

What can my mouth say that my tongue cannot
For they generate more force and fury
As they climb and fall across your beautiful body
What can my mouth say that my eyes cannot
For in their gaze you can feel my hunger
My desire for your pulsing flesh
Against my throbbing flesh
My eyes feed upon you lovely visage
Beastly ravishing you with my desire
I am insatiable, hunger rising
Your tender skin causing my fevered lust to rise
You precious smile inspires me
When your lip press against me
I am flushed with such sweet ecstasy
I would return the favor a thousand fold
But in our lovers release gasping and moaning
Exhausted, I collapse inside you
I hear your body humming
Still I desire to be closer
Though we are only millimeters apart
I wrap my arms around you
Pull you ever closer devouring your body with mine
Shielding you from the outside
While you protect my heart from within
What could my mouth say that my actions have not already
Words cannot express the passion you inspire
They are inadequate in the shadow of action

The nighttime
is a wet black pit
that crosses
grass and mud
then cuts
through a metal fence
eroding the earth under
the security
of its’ silver chained links.

A small thin swirl
of white smoke
spills out of
my electronic
cigarette
as I try
to stay awake
and alert.

The storm begins again.
making trees lean heavy
with the weight of
this wet wind.

It’s not
the salty tears
of an exhausted
atmosphere
crying here
but blood,
acid tainted
and flowing clear.

The rain is
an inch thick
translucent
membrane
covering
grey stones
on an old
gravel road.

Cold as death
the whip cracks.
White light
explosions paint
the grey cloud covered night
with new puffy colors.
Thunder sounds
its vicious strikes
as nature’s menstrual cycle
flows steady over
my vibrating windshield.

The storm does not subside
but blurs the street lights
that ride parallel
to my late night patrols.

Love is a lie I tell myself
A little joke to poke
A hole to hopefulness
Mostly it’s like an illness

To feel the sickness
Of desire that turns into
Bouts of melancholic
Moody human mildew

The truth is this kiss
Is a token of destruction
Her tokens of affection
Our eternal damnation
That open me up
To more painful stuff

It is an hour plus
long walk because
I don’t want
to take the bus.

Audiobook in one ear
so, I can hear the traffic
loud and clear
as I march from here
to work.

I greet and compliment
women and men
who walk by
with serious and sullen styles
transforming them into
delightful smiles
that shine through
so other walking strangers
can see them to.

Crosswalk lights
and lunch hour traffic
**** blocks my speedy flight
slowing my time by
ten to fifteen minutes.

Tall and strangely designed buildings
pass by the right and left of me.
I stare at them longingly
imaging all the books
that might be hiding
behind the stone and wooden wall.

I walk pass
lots of foliage
and many trees
but only one
really interest me.
I see the clinging ivy
creeping,
crawling all over
the brown bark covered
body
of that beautiful tree,
as the roots
move scarily
wrapping around themselves
and shaping to form
strange bodies
frozen mid scream
like they are dying.

I pass it cautiously
imagining
the green vine and leaves
consuming me,
pulling me down
into the hungry ground
as I struggle gasping
for my last rasping
breath.

Then I smile
feet moving ever forward
onto a long walk through
the city I love.

I read the signs
and let my mind
wonder in other daydreams,
while tracking the time
it takes me
to reach my workplace.
One bathroom break
and then five to ten
minutes and I arrive
sweating and smiling
time elapsed
one hour and
twenty minutes.

I was not winter ready
but weary and worn,
sights set meant to carry
this heavy burden
that I have born,
the season slowly
finds its demise,
and green things
find their roots
and start to rise.

Spring is on its
mating high,
buzzing with
all that nature loving.
Until the heat becomes
too much
and pulsing passions
push to pains
of heated lust.

Summer strikes
quicker then
a ninja’s throwing star
or some other
adolescent fantasy metaphor,
aggressive expansion
of heated frustrations
scolding the core
of the southern
parts of our nations.
Till the lights recede.

Then I fall
like orange
autumnal leaves
coming back
so close
to those bitter cold
beginnings,
sleeves extend
with their own
warming intent
and sweat stains
no longer plague
my once
wet and darkened pits.

Then the frosty fear
returns here
and
I must write
a new winter poem.

There’s blood in the sky
fits the tears I cry.
I walk the streets
each and every night.

There’s strangers here
but they don’t’ have to be.
I could fully engage
our shared humanity.

A smile to go,
in a big mac bag,
I’m working on
my mcdonald heart attack.
Its just that
the big breakfast
is the one thing
I look forward to.

Its an empty life
It’s a lonely place
but I never let them see
the ****** tears on my face.

Its three to eleven
or eleven to seven.
It’s a gym membership
that gets me fit.

It’s a caffeine addiction
with a video game problem,
But all I work for
it isn’t love
its just enough money
to get me by.

I got back fat
that barely *****,
and a front **** gut
with a belly button
**** hole
the jiggles
to and fro.

It is hard to explain
When you work the midnight shift
You only seam to exist in nightshades
Not the warm daylight hues and tints

When sunshine becomes
Inverse in your tired mind
And days are measured by
Moonrise and moonfall

When solar heat
Is just a sweet precursor
To the night that cools you
And the sunrise signals slumber

How sweet it is
To interrupt this with
With a day
Spent awake
Surrendering to the
Splendor of the sun

She’s sings so sweet
and her words are refreshing,
but I guard myself
cause my affections
become obsessive.
I walk away
before anything starts
cause it’s so much easier
then dealing with
a broken heart.

I’d play my guitar
but I never learned
so, I’ll whistle my songs
as the world turns
and burns to ashes.

My friend is heavy
heading towards
a heart attack.
He can’t even sleep
cause he hurt
his back,
and every day down
I wonder how long
it will be
before I have to
bury him and grieve.

I’d play my guitar
but I never learned
so, I’ll whistle my songs
as the world turns
and burns to ashes.

The government is
in the pocket
of big business
cause corporations
bought all your
favorite politicians.
So, they don’t give a ****
about the environment
and in twenty some years
we’ll be lucky if we
survive in it.


I’d play my guitar
but I never learned.
So, I’ll whistle my songs
as the world turns
and burns to ashes.

The night is over
but the dawns not coming.
I used to be fast
but there’s no place
to go a running.
Destruction is certain,
so I don’t even buckle up.
I just roll up the highway
and watch the world
get ******.

I am stealing my last breath
Working well until my death
Sitting still and still I tell myself
This is what I am looking for
Kissing, touching, and loving for
Savoring and wanting more
Like Cupid’s last crust of bread
I am brown and dry but still rich tasting
Basking, basting, and baking
With all that delicious love
I take myself to bed instead of
Staying awake with my racing brain
Fulfilling my last best dressed wish
I rest to lay my aching head
Softly sinking in a red pillow
Till they find me dead in my bed

The river flows
As subtle as a golden rose
Scent straining to reach
Any receptive nose
Firing weird wiring
Synapses flare and glow
I fall into the clutches
Of what all dreamers know
Time and space is vast and fast
But I am small and slow
Beating back the wild waves
Shrinking as much as I grow
Such a sparkly little speck
How little I truly know

It is for the loss of me
that my heart grieves.
As memories leave,
the memory tree
loses her leaves.

Inch by inch
The pathways disappear.
Dirt roads are lost.
Playgrounds are swallowed.
Each home crumbles.

Friends faces lose their solid edges.
Hugs lose their tenderness.
Family becomes unfamiliar.

Till, like the worse sculptor ever
Time chips away.
The marble becomes unrecognizable
And even the man in the mirror
Is a stranger.

I may be a nice guy
but if you crack
my glass demeanor
I get much meaner.

It is blindness by consent
Not knowing where we were going
Not caring where we went
Just tearing up the world
As we play follow the leaders

Perhaps, I was a peasant in love,
a partly pleasant player
in the prose and poetry
that I present to thee
my cherished queen
of love laden dreams.

Perhaps, I was
the curious cockroach
crawling across
the curators
favorite canvass,
the portrait of our
beloved queen,
to be crushed
carelessly by
the callous king,
becoming a small stain
on the otherwise
unblemished
painting.

Perhaps,
before we past
parting ways,
pondering
old playdates
when we played,
I was your partner
in strange adventures
before my feelings
became too complicated,
before I became
the crestfallen fool,
the King’s favorite jester
who made you laugh
while I tore myself in half
for the sake of your wellbeing.

Now my twin wanders somewhere
out there
unburdened by the broken heart
and if you see him
send him back
so, I can be him
once again.

What a cute little demon
clumsy and incredulous
stumbling as I laugh at its
sharpened claws
that barely miss.

They swipe like silver blades
hissing as they slice the air clumsily,

with a hunger in its eyes
more dangerous then
King Arthur’s Siege Perilous.

Beastly in its countenance
when brave warriors encounter it
they found their bowls quickly emptied,
and scurried away like fools to be pitied,

but this little darling demon spawn
has actually never managed to
hurt anyone.

If your dad set you on fire because you ****** him off. You would have him arrested right. So why is it acceptable to tell little kids that they will burn in hell if they don't do what they are told?

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

Not quite winter
but the bare sidewalks
are already cold,
and a perfect place
to put my bare foot
to ease the aching pain
as long as no one is
looking my way.
So, I slip off
my right shoe
press it against
the cold concrete
until the pain leaves my feet
and hope
no one notices
this silliness.

She is in part
a viper,
a poisonous plague
upon my heart,
venom spitter
dark adder
damming me
from a distance,
crumbling my
resistance.

She is dangerous
but I do not mind,
I find I like that kind
of danger.

Politicians
extort men
to retort then
go on acting
bad again,
whilst reporting
trends that tend
to move friends
to end good
relationships
in favor of
spouting off *******.

To all those I have lost
I am sorry that I was not there
To hold your hand
Hear your last words
And ease you gently
Into the arms of oblivion
And though you are gone
I still type these words
Hoping that when it is my turn
Someone will do for me
What I failed to for you

The night consumes
And from this room
I see no light

I’m so sleep deprived
Ready to cry
But tired eyes
Forgot how

The night retreated
Shadows shrink and receded
The light returns slowly

And with blues, and orange hues
The moist morning dew
The birds chirping to
My dark moods
Lessen, no lesson required
Just naturally inspired
Till I hit the pillow

How tragic that I have fallen for
my peacock colored angelic
poetically created fantasy,
how her lips are rainbows
and hair falls fancy
full of vibrance,
though she is written in silence,
hazel eyes always focused
in some far-off distance
behind me,
the man who longs to be
the one she is truly seeing.
Galatea to my Pygmalion,
though I know there are billions
of possible lovers out there,
I do not care or dare
avert the heart I share.
She is my obsession,
and I am her devoted
poet possession.


-2022 December

Im not angry only disheartened. I offered you a universe of wonder and you chose a dull road of uninformed and camouflaged conformity.

It is fine to hate, hate bad ideas, damaging ideologies, suffering, violence, and greed. However, hating people, diminishes the hater. Any system or person that props itself/themselves up on the basis of hating people damages humanity, and decreases our ability to build a better brighter future.

Hope is a rising tide
Water that recedes
But in times of need
Comes back
Racing and foaming
Roaming and showing
That some patterns
Remain
Some good things don’t change
Sometimes you just have to wait
Out the bad days
To get to the soft sea-shelled covered
Beautiful sandy shores

You crack the facts
Splinter reality
Set loose insanity
Before me
Ripping the white fabric
Opening and unfolding
Light
Turning the bright
Into star laden night
Turning the expected
Into the pleasure of uncertainty

They say matter and energy cannot be destroyed
only recycled into something new
So, I will never really lose you
Though the dirt may cover you up
And the centuries will see you turn to dust
And the eons will see you flying into space

I write your face and story in my memory
I will not lose you, integrating you into my being
A shimmering force of energy
Electrical impulses I can retrieve
Until I am no longer me
And I face the same and only true destiny

Your consciousness is restricted by your self-imposed ignorance. You are so much more then your consumerism impulses, your romantic fantasies/heartaches, your political ideologies, and your religious dogmas. You are a universe of potential, something that can be developed in the stillness of introverted introspection, something that is unique and beautiful, something that longs to be shared with the world. You are your own mechanism for self-directed emotional, intellectual, nutritional, and  neurochemical evolution. You just have to look beyond the predefined prepackaged reality and realize just because it is done this way does not mean it has to be done that.

If the horrors of our history do not make you gasp, and the tragedies of our present do not unite you in tears and cries for a better world, Then you have been successfully brain washed.  Watch your shows, buy your brand names stuff, and be content in your dullness because you have become a perfect tool.