I have a new poem,
I just have not written it,
Since I have not
Come up with the words yet.
Oh.

Where are
The ecstatic saxophones that
Slung forth swank slurs of
Beauty,
The ***, ***, ***
Bass lines,
The snaps and snares and the
Sweet rhythm of the Night?

Music had character
And minds followed, in following
Soared.
There were no glittery vampires,
No prepubescent
Brother boy bands.
Soulful crooners never
Warbled over Alejandro,
Or the boots with the fur, with the fur.
We wrote letters and shared thoughts and ideas
And convictions.
There was no need for the techno
Middleman
To wrap our
Real thoughts in LOLs
To make opening
Up to another
More efficient.
Mass media
Gluttony drowns
America till I strain and struggle
Only to barely stay afloat
In this sea of apathy.

But you won't buy and sell my soul.
I'm not going to
Be your
Consumptive,
Quiet,
Couldn't-care-less,
I won't get in the way,
And I won't raise my voice,
Good American,
2.5 children,
Christian,
Conserva-libera-publi-crat,
Self-centered, Illiterate, Ignorant
Sheep
Only to follow the power.

**** no,
I'm mad as hell;
I want to leave the next generation
A world where
You can confess your
Love and be a man or
Love another man and have
Basic human rights, and it all
Starts in your
Mind
And your
Expression thereof.
It's the saccharine pop
Culture that has
Made free-thought unfashionable, a crime.

Art is
Revolution.
Hang
Up,
Log
Out,
Unplug and just look
At what you've let the
World become in
Letting yourself be
Little more than
A faceless source
Of merciless dollars.
Wrest free our
Culture from the
Calamitous and indifferent
Claws of rampant capitalism.

Express yourself or submit,
Stand up for a free America.

I will not be sold.

He saw you hurry down his door steps,
You did not stay the night.
He saw you hurry down his door steps,
Bouncing, even skipping in your flight.

He saw you walking on the boulevard,
You stuck to shadows all the way.
He saw you walking on the boulevard,
Entwined forever in this game you play.

You thought he didn't notice,
Blinded to your sin.
You thought he didn't notice,
The condition you are in.

He's not here you thought, so perfect,
Your lies will not be found.
He's not here you thought, so perfect,
Your heart telltale thumping underground.

He took the long way home,
He had to clear his head.
He took the long way home,
Wondering whether love is dead.

The winter wind was whipping,
Biting at his ears.
The winter wind was whipping,
His cheeks wet with tears.

He imagined your dress falling,
You rolling on his bed.
He imagined your dress falling,
So on the way he said,

"Why should I go home tonight?
It's not like she stayed true.
Why should I go home tonight?"
Said as if to you.

You cried after the first night,
He took the first train West.
You cried after the first night,
You never would have guessed.

The second night was harder still,
He left even his phone,
The second night was harder still,
He left his life, he left you there, crying all alone.

Next night you wept and knew your fault,
Betrayal betrayed you.
Next night you wept and knew your fault,
The love that could have grew.

Months had passed and time stood still,
Naught but guilt to get you by.
Months had passed and time stood still,
Your prayers answered, he called and asked you, "Why?"

Your heart it started racing,
Your words must be precise.
Your heart it started racing,
Leap of faith upon thin ice.

"I don't know what came over me,
I fear this void inside.
I don't know what came over me,
From my faults I cannot hide."

"I miss you now so dearly,
Won't you please come home?
I miss you now so dearly,
You no longer need to roam."

"I saw you hurry down his door step,
But that was just the start.
I saw you hurry down his door step,
As you trampled o'er my heart."

"I don't believe in love no more,
So I left it all behind.
I don't believe in love no more,
I kept looking for sign."

"Was nothing there in Omaha,
Nowhere further was I shown.
Was nothing there in Omaha,
Naught I hadn't known."

"Circumstance has changed me,
Our love it was not real.
Circumstance has changed me,
Your love I didn't feel."

It was over, a new day,
Tone hummed to her reply.
It was over, a new day,
She dropped the phone only to cry.

Cigarette smoke and suntan lines
Big ******* conglomerate of it all
California short hours away
Small town America burns hot
Scorched with dreams
Drunk and sappy on cheap beer
And wonder
How does it all make sense?
Where does it all go?
What Divine notices all that happens?
Going unseen
Uninhibited
Unrestricted.
Scene continues forever.
Worried in hot sweaty short drive
To carry on Sherman
Fall on Caves
First fill up, gas up, cookies and gum.
Girls work icecream stands
Firewood ten dollars a stack
Sliding into drunk dresses
Drunk kisses in
Drunk bathrooms
Room to love
And to fight
To hate and leave and stay
And we do stay and
Don’t mean what we said
When jealous.
Best friend backstab
And open road fall back
Drink,Drink,Drink
And fall on same old singsong solitary stool
Or walk on till all
Makes sweet holy sense.
Think where they will go,
Where they’ve been,
Sleeping in beds of tomorrow
And eat the toxic cancer of now away
Till only in remission can the
Revolution of our unconquerable youth shake.
Natalie keeps kids and complains
But truly is the best mother and friend of all
I really do believe it,
Kate drinks and dreams
And I dream with her, too
Of highways and great plains,
Ratty dives and eclectic bars
Too hip for She,
The Messiah of cool, even.
Gone.
Too soon.
How can we consent,
Look away, turn away from such terror?
It freezes, chills to bone and I light up again.
Figurative fire scorches lungs
Grass burning from the inside out
What’s she care?
It’s over anyways,
It always comes to an end,
But I really just don’t see
The beginning of the magic.
I’m here for you.
Helicopter scares,
Sober stares,
Where did they all go?
California dreams
Dust and ****
Close your eyes
See the soul,
The sun sink past sand,
The sky turns gray
No beautiful aversion,
See the orange and red,
See the beauty that doesn’t fit here.

Go.

See it all.

Go.

Shoes at the door,
Coffee upstairs,
Coats behind the table.
A home made stage
Elevates young artists,
Their bursting fireworks,
Flashing brilliance across
The night sky of the mind.
Glimpses of a world so golden,
Shared in the fleeting,
Yet wholly visceral stabs of sentiment.
Visions so intimate,
So dearly ethereal,
Brunette in the corner sees glory
Most mistake for madness.
Snaps fingers;
Says
"Go, go, go"

Too too sweet for my ears,
What angelic song of your loveliness
Could ever sweep low enough
To reach my soul?
Does the hermit crab
Ever delight in the
Sweet and free
Birdsong?

tripping

over the edge

scratching vinyl

low bass lines

steady beat

plush carpeted floor

to my right

plaster beneath my feet

drywall landing pad

eat words

truth digested

no meaningful inward journey

cold shuddering empty room

no food

fridge empty for days

trapped

ceiling racing

collision course with floor

jump into desk

latent in my cupboard

no awakening

up for thirty hours

weeping in frustration

no food

ecstatic with mediocrity

Yes! Yes!

follow the ant

it knows

primeval secrets

internal truths

shopping lists

a thousand regrets

a thousand ******

clamoring rooftop

puddles

sweet nectarine sky

tangerine tomorrows

Sweet old woman
Two small boys
Hand-in-hand
"Only step on the dark ones"
Midsummer leaves
Under angelic sandals
Step!
Step!
Step!

There is a pit where
Certainty once sat;
How can we turn away
From such Terror?

Cold air dances,
Pirouetting,
Capturing my attention.
"Yes! Yes!"
An ugly ballet
Following from street to street.
The heat of the fight and my open wounds
Second to my welcomed chills.
Feel something.
New sensation.

You claim
He's not around
Anymore.
I'm onto him,
Sitting there behind you.
Cracks open a beer,
Smiling,
Chuckles as
He sets it beside you.
You drink.
"What?"
How can you
Not see?
You lost.
****,
Old, alcoholic
Fool.

Girl down the way
Carrying large brown-bagged bottles of liquor,
Nectar to the saddest poets who
Consume,
Consume,
Consume,
In order to consort with the sordid, dichotomous entities,
Enticing visions of vicious enemies
Crouching, kneeling, fighting, feeling,
Fleeing at their visage-
Does she get the message?
One more night of drinking alone.
Calls a far-off friend,
Sad and ******.
She asks with a tragic shake in her voice,
“Where did I go wrong?”
In a New York loft she
Groans,
Sighs,
Fumbles over words
That might not mean a thing.
Emily finally declares,
“You are more,
So much more,
So much undeniably more to this world
Than the blood in your veins,
Than the letters in your name,
But the facts remain;
Sometimes you are in love,
But sometimes,
You are never the same.

It started in
Unbelievable hardship.
It wasn't a fairy tale.
I never rode in on
My white horse
And swept you off your feet.
I was completely empty inside
As a fantastic ship with
No direction,
Lost at sea,
Hoping for some beacon of light.
You blinded me from
Across the room.
I never noticed your beauty.
We were drunk,
Talkative,
Intrigued.
Over time I came to
Admire you dearly.
My heart bursting
With beatific possibilities,
With confusion,
With hesitance.
I didn't want to
Hurt you, and especially
Didn't know if I could lose someone.
I waited for you.
Knew there was no one
More wonderful
To be with
In this world.
Sad as it is for I
The hero of this story,
I Cared for you
So deeply
I didn't interlope.
You were happy
And that made me feel
A strange mix of
Joy and jealousy.
Despite our struggles
To find our golden place
In the world,
I wouldn't have done anything
Any differently.
You are the other
Half of my soul
That keeps me balanced
And most importantly happy.
You are the home for my
Thoughts,
Dreams,
For my love.
I think of the million
Ways you make me happy,
Praying I can return
Even a little.
You are my home,
My guiding light.
My best friend,
My love of my life.

I will hold my breath,
Still with anticipation of the day
When children sleep soundly in their cribs,
When hounds stand poised and alert at their master's side,
When high school friends recognize each other after years of separation,
When the mendicant wanders a cold city after dark,
When the ever-thirsting stock broker buys the American dream with stolen money,
When a sorry little girl embraces a once furious, now placated mother,
When a college student spends days in a library and nights drowning in cheap beer,
When a cozy red hand knit scarf protects an old man in the unforgiving snow,

When I finally find what I've sought for so long,

That will be the day I stop writing and start singing our song.

The day may lie
Bitter daggers of fault,
Icy in cruel candor,
While the night,
Whose voice unsolicited,
Whispers facts
With holy virtue.
Rattled with paradox.
Always confide in the thief
Never finding refuge in the saint.
Men despair,
Bleak in fear,
For the the world appears a foe.
In truth,
Desire bests intellect.
I wanted the sun,
When better had it set.

Walking, alone, down cold, uneven sidewalks.
Beech St. crosses with Bagley, then East Grand.
After three, only the unsavory, the lost, and the tormented roam these paths;
Forever seeking peace of mind where only delusion resides.
Not knowing entirely what lay ahead,
Walked to Coe Lake.
One spot in this little place that seems almost untouched, unadulterated.
No street signs,
No cars.
Just the gentle silence that is discontent with just being;
It affects, it liberates, it call into question all that is certain.
Get lost in your thoughts on the gravel path,
And take a seat by the water.
Just as Mother Moon gazes into the face of the glassy lake surface,
So must I look inwards,
Is this the right path?
I sigh, the nights sighs back.

I knew you before we ever met.
I felt our feelings,
Ruminated over our thoughts.
I clung to our convictions,
Was crucified for our flaws.
I didn't write for you,
Yet was delighted
When you understood.
I gave you my hard copy,
Creased down the middle and bent from nervous energy,
Typed twenty-six point font
(These drunk eyes of mine strained for less).
You gave me your hard copy.
I never saw it coming.
Neatly kept,
Typed with handsome typewriter slab serif.
Bursting with honesty,
That person-to-person
Truth that I value over all.
The occasional typo
Revealed to me the process,
The ecstatic pleasure in creation
That I've felt before.
You on your typewriter,
I in marker on the window's glass canvas.
The next night
We joined you for drinks and for good company.
Talked poems,
Talked Whitman,
Talked dumb society,
Talked records.
In drunken elation seven true hearts
Howled to heaven,
Played music,
Performed clumsy art.
I had more drinks.
Relished the night
Shared with kindred souls.
The night went on.
You asked for your coat,
Which I mechanically retrieved.
Stepped out and into the cold
With no coat of my own.
As you nervously lit your cigarette,
I knew something
Was amiss.
"It's nothing."
That's how I knew,
It was everything.

Cold air sends shivers,
Cruel wind.
Cracked sidewalks,
Sprawling, the winding eternal.
Ivy ascends evergreen.
Apple cores, orange rinds,
Everything under a blue, sunless sky.

Jumpercable dreams
Defibrillator epiphanies
Wet streets of this city.
Rain way rivers down
Alley and walk.
Fumble for the seventy-five cents,
Slam!
Crack!
Vroosh!
The heights are drowning!
Shared awning storefront,
It's not stopping and it won't ever stop.
The Lee Rd. sidewalk,
Now the new Rio Grande,
Flows to the big parking structure,
Now an Atlantian City,
Relic to a cryptic past,
Arcane acropolis.
Dry overhang is my raft,
Only it,
Too,
Is sinking.

The spider hanging from the wall,
Does not even notice.
Perfectly at peace,
Master Spider has his web,
His dinner,
His enlightenment,
All of which are part of the
Arachnid awning and web zen garden.