And surprisingly respectable. I miss that summer.

Seeing people capitalize the light of morning.

It will be my own hands.

Narcissistic, overconfident, underskilled and I.

¡Cinco por ella!

After the morning dew melts,
You can find me,
I will be outside
My local Library.

Inside are more than books,
Recordings and tapes,
Inside you’ll find Captain Hook,
Earthquakes that shook, and probably a Rook.

The pages are black
And white,
But the stories can easily make us
Cry.

Go.
Read just one,
A dozen more,
Who knows.

But read,
Because reading opens doors.

The rhythm of our rain is spastic,
Unexpect the worse,
Feel the drops on your eyes,
Feel their abstract drift down your face,
Palpable as the day we met,

Never see the next drop coming,
But always dry off for more.

Receiving me with welcoming,
A vice versa from my side.
I didn’t think of all the things,
It would be you I’d find;
A blessing for my night.

Rivers of red,
Shallow display of blood
Mixing with soil and sand
Flowing down
Always down.

A world of red blood
And red rivers.

It's me, that moon and my heartbeat.
We're alone down here with nothing but
Fear and Want.

Fear that our mark will not last
Fear that what we learn next will end it
Fear that one of us three will change.

Want of a life that's better
Want of a woman with lightning eyes
Want of a life without fear.

Angels may cry,
Blues of love and devotion,
Gray and white sky,
Vows never broken,

Beautiful be with me,
Interlock fingers,
Be beautiful with me,
Interlock hearts.

-June 23rd 2013

Caught in a sand storm,
Trying to breath in the harsh air,
My lungs meet grit,
I cough, I bleed, I gasp.

*Air.

I dreamt about you again
Your hair, your skin, your safety.

We talked and blocked it all out.
It was nice.

My Fox.

Reevaluations Don't

Remedy my melody,
It's broken,
Out of tune,
Off tempo.

Wake me up,
I'm sleeping,
Catatonic,
Don't see me.

Entertain me,
Satisfy me,
Deny me,
My love.

Don't trust
My Lust.

Yesterday,
On the patio of that coffee joint,
I saw a girl with your timber hair,
I stopped,
    I stared,
        I studied.
But it was not you,
    Thank God.

My friends saw me staring,
Two knew why.
One asked,
    “What is the story of you two?”
I told him,
    I traced back,
        I tightened up.
I cursed a lot,
    I gave the truth of it all.

We have a long story.
I wonder if it’s as long for you.

I remind myself of a dog chasing his tail,
In circles I spin again, not realizing,
When I sleep, when I wake, I see my tail
    And chase,
But the sweetest days,
The sweetest days are when I catch it.
-April 18th 2013

I can't control myself.
*I got it.

Love isn’t poetic, but we still try, we’re pathetic, so why do we cry,
We all learn by failing, that’s why we fail so hard.


Learning, and seeing, and breathing, it’s what we do,
And every one of us is leading, the pack through and through,

Every man for himself, Every daughter too,
Will keep going on, Will be reborn anew,

And really, I love you.

My arms are too weak to hold up this shield,
So they can see my face.

And I look horrible.

Do you ever wonder what will happen to the webs in life
If you start tearing down the walls.
Do you ever sit and stare at the happenings and wonder
What it’s all for.

Do you ever wonder why we dream,
When all we dream is seeing.
Do you ever sit and think,
If you stand for a whole lot more.

Well you see sometimes in the dead of night,
I start to see what it all stands for.

Every drop we add to life,
Shakes the pond in every way,
Everything we ever do,
Can change the light of day,

And every time you ever think,
About the way it all goes,
Your thoughts can do a whole lot more,
Than you may ever know,

Cause the spider may spin her web,
And you may not like the sign,
But if it’s really meant to be,
It will not be a lie,

Cause in the end we have walked our line,
Down the path we just believe,
And if you ever look so far back,
You may be able to see,

That your whole life is anything but,
It will never be nothing,
All choices you have ever made,
All mean one great thing.

Forbade from view, the bluebird sits silent,
And writes to her love, an undeserving kingfisher,
The playful and ignorant fisher, too quick,
Insults and praises to the bluest of birds,
    Dedicating his faithless being to his love,
        Like tipping the Styx ferry in pyrite,
                    He does not know.
He’s never lied, but his truth is faded.
Faithful to him she is, and he her,
        Though unsure of his faith,
        El Rey is in pain.

Those roads that lead from here,
I want them.
I want the stories in their cracks and the sand within their grooves.

I want the
Click
Clack
Click
Clack
Of shoes against their grain.

I want the drops of oil
And smell of winter when it comes.

I want to leave.

Summoning the sun, these songbirds sing soulful,  solid, sounds. Surprisingly, they softly sing me to sleep. Sweet symphonies sweep my dreams.

I wrap my arms around this stuffed otter,
And pretend that it is her,
That she holds my arms on her chest
And we breathe in harmony.

Two more voices in this morning choir.
Goodnight, night. Good morning, morning.

Sometimes I wonder if in my old age,
I will be remembering these nights.

Not the nights I cry, nor the nights I smile.
The nights where I stare. Melancholy.

The nights where Faith had ****** my memories.
The nights where Katriana had dashed my hopes.
And the nights where Jami gave me reason to not blow my brains out.

But not really. They all just, they are memories.
Except maybe Jami, she might be a thing.

But the pain I feel is not a memory.
It's right here, still burning.

And I don't know what to do, except, just. Force myself to breathe.
Force myself to keep pumping blood.
Force myself to remember that people aren't intrinsically bad.

They just, **** up and love somebody else and **** up at that too.
And **** me. **** me for having these thoughts.
Who was I to enter these women's lives. A poser. A stalker.
A creep.

A love-sick dog.
But every bone he digs up was put there by some other dog.
They all taste like other dogs.

But he stops.
"*******, the bones don't taste like other dogs,
My TONGUE tastes like other dogs."
"Those *******."

And so he spent the next couple months applying acid to his tongue,
To burn out the taste and smell of the girl-dogs he had been with.
But it never worked.

He's still trying though.
To burn the taste away.

He wants a clean bone.

Convinced that there is no life after death,
Convinced that no god watches over me,
Convinced my actions never really count.

I don't believe.

But for some blasted reason there is one person,
Tried true and tested rigorously,
And this one woman I trust. I believe.

I believe in love.

Don't romanticize life.
Dirt is dirt.
Ugly is ugly.
Trees burn.
And sometimes things are ****.

Nobody's perfect.
Especially you.
Nothing is perfect.
Especially your perfect eyes.
And how you laid perfectly with your head in my lap.
And how you perfectly stared at that purple octogon on the wall.
And how I called you perfect.
Imperfect.

Don't romanticize those books you read.
I could burn every copy.
Don't exaggerate how much you love that author.
I could shoot him in the chest.
Don't talk about a greater good.
I know we don't have one.

You.
Don't have one.

Selfish.
Skinny.
Pale girl.
With imperfect perfect eyes.

Sometimes we hold on too tight,
When it starts to slip,
We bleed.

Me llamas Dante,
Soy del infierno,
Soy del corazón,
Soy de mi pasada.

Si soy de nuestro porvenir,
Amas me.

Yo soy.

Sometimes it’s okay to have ghosts,
A ghost of flesh, bone, and wings stalks me,
She kisses my scarred knees,
Pats my shoulder,
And sends me off.

Three months later I’ll come back,
She’ll come back,
Embraces follow,
Maybe some affair,
And while we stand there,
I’ll be thinking
“I don’t want to leave you this time.”
She’ll say the same.

What do you do when life is right?
The pieces fit,
The poems stop,
The peace comes.
The panic calms.

What do you do when the kiss is true?
What do you do.

I really want us to work out,
I want to see you,
I really want to see you out,

I want to show you something;
To see why I love you,
There’s something great about loving,

    Your brown hair, brown eyes,
    Your gorgeous smile, gorgeous eyes,
    
You’re new to me, *but not really.

You avert your eyes like I wronged,
But I did not,
    Did I?
I’ve waited so long,
You fell, and I caught,
    I am not the bad guy.
You want to push your chances,
Don’t.
    You will not succeed.
I don’t hold your glances,
You just won’t,
    But still I plead,
    And bleed.
    And give,
    And live,
    For You.

What you don't see is her thinking.
Sitting there with her 7-11 pizza and coffee,
She's thinking.
The root of equations and their solution.
Squaring and cubing all issues in her head.
She's always solving problems which don't exist yet,
Always dissecting problems and applying mathematics to everyone and everything.

It all comes down to molecules and their relation to each other.
Numbers in it all.
In art and love and the patterns of weather,
Everything can be predicted and solved,
One way or another...

You don't see this.
You see her shell,
And that dazed look on her face
Her dark, torn clothes,
Piercings and tattoos.

I love her.

I only imagine
In shapes and calculations
And measurable values
When I am healthy.

The system starts failing
When I start to idealize
The lack of numbers
The lack of words
And the lack of progress.

An optimistic brain can be more dangerous than the cynic.

Time washing away
The cuts

In your arms.
My breath

Weakens
At home.

Hear the doors
So far... Open

So much peace it seems
Safe.

Be.
Cause you won’t bleed

Under my wing.
You won’t cry

So long as I can see.
Don’t fear,

I’ve got you dear.
Or at least trying,
Not crying.

One eye too far is what it takes to ruin,
A perfectly good lie.
The watermark holds secrets hidden,
Hold it to the fire.

Parchment, not paper,
Some endless sentence,
We never had a period,
We never had a stop.

This daily, peaking desire
To keep writing our story,
Start the next chapter,
Put ink and blood on fiber.

You're still with me in my dreams,
And my trips.
You're still in my heart.
I can't shut up about you
And all the good. Still.

I'm a damaged vinyl record,
Playing these same verses over
And over.
But honestly,
This was my favorite part of the song.

Let's play that song

A field dry and yellow,
Each step breaks beneath foot,
Each sunrise absorbs more life,
Each pair of eyes marks death,

The black feathers call,
Contrasting the drape of earth,
Destined for something worse,
Inevitable as God’s eye,

Watching,
Waiting,
Knowing,
Showing through.

-June 7th 2013

Sedated cave troll
Spending days at home
Snoozing and dreaming
Letting this booming city grow,
      Without his influence.

Sick of it, he wakes and stays woken,
Going to paint and write,
Party and love and dance and drive,
Goodbye sedation.

Checking in. Did you hear me?
Did you see?
I told you.

Looking up. Did you ask?
Remove your mask?
No adieu.


I had a feeling the violet would bloom,
A couple months late,
Under the wrong light,
Too much of a fight.

*Take flight.

There's an ambient sound in the light of this sill, this wooden panel of glass and appreciation of architecture and planning and the lack thereof. There's a scent to the air which is like somebody wants to care, but just doesn't. A crow sits.

There are rusty tools in the shed and rotting wood on every building. Dead leaves on all grounds. Silent fires. Silent animals and corpses.
Silent golden jewelry sitting in a drawer, waiting for it's half life.

The man with blonde hair is new. So is his blood and sweat. Things are changing.
He's running for his life.

Golden horn player,
    blow.
Tune out the world with your sound.
Tune out the sins, the needs and wants,
Tune out the cries for help in the dark,
    The compliments and appraisals.
Tune out the world which beats you down then apologizes.
Tune out the ‘Yes No’s. The ‘Maybe So’s. The ‘Not Right Now’s.
Tune out every kiss, every touch.
Tune out every heartbreak and every scream. Every time you bled and cried.
Tune it all out.


Golden horn player,
    *Blow.

Untouched by inactivity.
Untouched by activity.

Unmoved by push.
Unmoved by pull.

Impossible to affect
Impossible to revert me back.

Unfuckwithable is what they called it.
I will call it sturdy.

I will not be changed by you.
I am happy and I will not change because of you.

You.
You you you you you.

The little man who lost it
Still wanders
Like he did the day
She left.
Nothing changes
We're all still sand
In the hourglass.
The little grain of dust
Still falls back and forth
Like he will
*Forever.

They ran for days, he kept holding her hand,
They ran through the constant rain, the downpour,
Both of them soaked, clothes not of much use,
But she kept running with him, he was a promise of joy,
On the second day, she faltered, needed to go home,
     He waited.
     Was patient.

The sixth day of running, the rain never stopped,
She still had her white coat, grayed by the water,
He still had his black hood, frail from soaking,
He was tiring, losing his vision, she wasn’t pulling her weight,
He knew she could, he knew she had,
    So he let go.
    Unexpected.

She turned to him, “How could you do that, stop pulling.”
"I did it because I need to go where I am going,
I am a runner, and we all know that runners run,
So either run with me, or let me free for time,"
Squinting disapprovingly, she found a nice bench,
    And sat.
    “I’ll be here.”
    She looked.
    At him.
    As he ran.

He left her vision, she left his, but as he ran,
He could only think of those angel wings beneath,
Those soft lighting eyes of hers, that perfect smile,
He thought of the body beneath, the heart beneath,
In his endurance-fed fatigue, he dreamed, and only dreamed,
    Of her.

He came back round, his muscles having been warmed,
He came round, looking, searching desperately,
She was nowhere, she was hiding, she was gone.
“Beautiful! Where are you?! I need you, I still want you.”
“I am here. Look at all the friends I made. Aren’t they
    beautiful?”
    “Yes but-”
    “No buts.”
    “I’ve come.”
    She turned her back to him.


*He ran.

I want to stop.

*** is not sleep.
But I fear for me, it is.

My mind is backwards, my dreams are haunting,
My eyes hurt, my future daunting.

I’m scared, because for the first time,
              In many nights.
*I have no one.

Glazed black marbles,
Striking black suit.
He helps me sleep.

Mediocre dreams,
Okay sleep,
Alright day,
And all that follow.

No blessings.

All these nights I’ve waited,
All these nights I’ve pleased,
All these nights I’ve taken,
All these nights I plead,

She said it, She filled my heart filled with joy,
She said it, She knows how to please this boy
And every second since then,
Another craving there’s been,

She said it, She said the three words,
She said it, She shook up my world,
And every heartbeat since then,
Another feeling there’s been,

The ache is gone,
Writing this song,
To my only sweet fawn,
I know I’m no pawn,

She said it, She took the pulsing away,
She said it, She made worth these days,
And every breath since then,
Another smile there’s been,

You can say it again,
Go ahead, don’t be scared,
Remind me when,
The time, you declared,

She said it, She said ‘I love you,’
She said it, I knew it was true,
And every heartbeat since then,
Sweet rapture it’s been.

-June 17th 2013

Why doesn't she love mine?