What could this mean?
What could it be...?

Could* I be interested?

Not entirely likely…

Maybe a little orderly bee could tell me,
inform mee of what places to put my ***,
or what organizations I should reject.

Like anyone knows for themselves…

An opinion removes itself.

How insufferable.

How decipherable.

How it comes from a disciple...

Shows you up.

Shoes you wrong...

Puts a word to another song,
but for how long…?

Until the cricket croaks?
Until the cheep chokes?

In notes...
nine to say the least;
she tells me of a beast.

How wonderful she is,
I can’t deny,
but still that little voice—

*HAS TO DIE.

Arriving in the corner of my sight
I see you for the first time.

I follow light traces
until they leave the other worldly surfaces.

You look like a ghost,
an apparition,

that’s appeared
only for me to see.

You walk on by
to where my eyes go blind.

I think my stunned looks
have turned you away

and now you’ve passed
beyond the corners glass...

As if in a dream
you return to me within reality

and I see you
as you see me…

as our images cross and merge,
separate and disperse,

we are never to be

re-aligned
*(again).

...Doesn't matter where I place my point
when there was nothing there?
I did it anyway.

An outcome so simple to say,
they’ll call me a fool
for seeing this action through.

We are the unlucky ones,
the ones in tune to care.

I’m one world away from turning this dimension around
and I just might do it…

I’m one twisted laugh away from a disfigured joke
to being referred to as that demented bloke.


After all is said,
thought mattered not.

I’m a prisoner in someone else’s mind
and I’m looking for someone who’s blind…

...for someone who can’t see my insides.

The person who best suits me
turns out to be
the most incompatible.

The curse of birth
carries my blood
along with me.

I’d bleed black if the prism ever broke.

I think you know,
but it doesn’t show.

My truth is a little less then a window.

I spin my thoughts around all matters
and feel untrue feelings
just to judge what it all means.

I choose to open or close
until it breaks in and takes all it can
and then I’m left angry and afraid.

I shatter myself and a disfigured creature lurks out…

I regain control by picking up the shiniest pieces
as I try to put myself back together...

Into something respectable...

Into something better...

And I will hate myself
because of last night’s yurinings.
I know it’s not good for my health...

But I can’t stop craving
carving a path
that’s shelved.

I go to work disheveled
and in need of help,
but I can’t stop hurting.

Is it wrong of me to hate you?
Because I don’t.
Although I wish I could...

Let’s get old
and grow bored.

Waste our lives
on a story told.

Grinding days
don’t get greased.

Decaying thoughts
and watching screens...

Live vicariously
Through others dreams.

And watch the attention seekers
in corner store magazines.

Let’s go grey
then pass away…

Sitting in
our favorite stains.

Where we lived slow
and talked about the world...

And watched weather change
And thought,

‘This will be interesting.’

Or how that person once cut off your thought
and you went on about it until your final days.

Ruminating isn't so bad
as we laugh at the things that drive us mad.

Leave behind a legacy
and allow our descendants
the pleasure of doing the same
mundane things.

Work a life
unexplored.

The repetition
of “day and nights” chores...

I forgot to mention
the feelings of love in our lives…

But that’s just fleeting
when everyone dies.

You've just got to wade it out until
you can catch the next wave.

Then you'll be soaring.

Out of the shop
Varnished and locked
Sent to the residencies
Without even a knock,

But left behind
For few eyes to see
The tools that scraped grooves
And all the worn down machines

That left the saw created dust behind
And brushes crusted with all of your grime
I saw it too,
And you were there

I put on a play
And walked to a windows place
Pictures of a long lost time
With me inside

All here still,
But also gone tomorrow
Dealt with with tears
Of some lost who were held dear

Not long after broken
It forever disappears
And all we ever wanted was so near,
But we were too opposed by fear

*The pictures no longer so clear...

Enjoy your lover,
for tomorrow one will be dead

and the other depressed,

or the next you’ll grow bored
and you’ll have to find

someone else to impress.

It was there…
Just sitting there,
for eyes to see
and hands to take ahold of.


The entire day is spent on adolescent thoughts
breeding life into a well weathered mind,
like the first time you climbed
to get to higher grounds
and search around
the whole world contained
within a playground…

Your playground.

And the only limits to be perceived
existed only within your own imagination.

Why not break the fourth wall
to find and gather
and then pull back on your worldly tether
to sustain and remain
well partaking in creativities finest form
and continue the process of awaiting destiny
(the time spent between life and death)

by passing the time as you see fit.

But if you choose to advance
add only and do not subtract,

that is to say that the true
progression of mankind is formed
through the inviting of new ideas
into our universal vernacular
and the practicality of the worlds relation to a dream
grasping from one rung while swinging to the next
continues fluent and the end inevitable,

after all…

The floor is lava and you can *not
not touch.

What a cold place the world can be
when nothing’s left to gain reprieve.


Stuck in a picture,
without blush,
knowing that the teals and hues
will never be used to set you free...


No longer being
able to believe
in the least degree.


Life’s a funny thing though,
for one day you can see
what the day before
could not be gleaned…


The white turns off of the grey stage
and prisms onto your own page.


With vision restored
you’re welcomed into
the colors warmth.

The fiery depths in the ocean of the star above us
burns brightly against a full moon backdrop
looked at by those who were never there...

Aware to care.

A chemistry incomplete.

Eye’s that almost don’t meet,
but comfort in between sheets
burnt at the feet
and imperfect perpendicular
black lines in a photograph
that doesn't quite cross in view...

It’s not what I’m accustomed to…

We are all in pictures that will be forgotten…

At least I can say the same
for the table of the rotten.

Flipping pages…

Complete.

So many memories
left glossy envelopes alone,
forever unknown,
and old
grey scaled
sunny days
on the beach.

A life of smiling retreats
and no one knows a soul,
especially the one whose view
we knew.

And all those looking into the eye
have all died.

No more tears are cried
and I can smile as I flip on past,
knowing where I, one day to,
will be at last.

what's left unsaid?

if never the time was taken to be read.

in the fields of flowers
where pollen falls
and nothings there to collect
lies weaves
in the petals veins
in the sorrow that is bleed
from the honey comb that stuck to the roof of my mouth.

what's there if never?

what's better?

if forever takes so long that we have the chance to forget.

and if I had one regret
it would be that regret.

Don’t stay
with people
who make
your world
grey.

But give them
a chance
and hear
what they
have to say.

Maybe
your colours
will rub off
onto
their easel,

and a streak
will change
their canvases
complexion
forever.

A type to be
and the personification
of something I can understand

Look at me
I am your man,
breathing letters
into your hands.

A face that I could love
better than two doves leaving.

My face is a response,
alive and moving in your direction
to grab as passing wings flap.

No instruments of self destruction left,
a slight slander that is actually a blessing.

Could you receive me in perfect congress?

Maybe even with all the people
who don’t know any better…

Or when to just say yes.

With velvet tears
and dyes made out of leers
Who cares who hears?

Let's silence these fears
And learn to be...

And never not,
No more.

My words are like nations of the world’s
swirling around and coming about
in the same way or another.


Which way the wind blows
doesn’t always match up
with a compasses nose.


Sometimes you have to turn against a howl
in order to reach the next place you must receive,
like swimming upstream
in order to fulfill a cyclical life’s purpose…


When was it ever worth this?


When was it ever worth less?


I can feel it in my bones
as they urge me to find a home,
but I’m an animal of unknown.


The only type that can carry the knowledge of what they are.


The lies of a misunderstanding
where I can’t see past a breed,
or a bent genome that’s changed and left alone…


Without a loan.


The world has not yet seen oblivion...


I think I missed Venus when she was kissed
by a depleting atmosphere that thinned out
into outer space…


Sound dissipated as it reached the last substance left to vibrate.


A laugh in a lifetime (of) comedy,
an attraction left in an eye that meets the same,
a meaningless night where it can remain.


I am not always the one to blame,
but I take it anyway.


For if I don’t then there’s no resolute
and I can’t feel peace in sleep,
or a tragedy in a common community.


Without the others coming on to me
I’d never know to make believe anything...


And see a sadness shared
on faces and fists holding hands.


Changing the channels of life’s plans through currents and tides
who leave their marks on rockless sands…


Only in viewing can I comprehend,
only within a glass can I confide,
and only when it’s passed I no longer have to hide my pride.


After all,


I am being pushed through the hours ride.

I've got a confession

What's my lesson?

Marlin Brando
Flounders
Off the coast

Who can boast?

The host

Steal the roast
And walk away
without even a ******* toast

I’ve got a confession
What’s my lesson?

Marlon brando flounders
off the coast.

Who can boast?
The host

Steal the roast
and walk away

without even
a ******* toast.

Mix
Malted
Tumultuous
Feathers
Flapped
Fluttered
Flew
Rising
Above
Things
That
We
Knew
With
A
Coo
Wings
Clipped
Crumpled
And
Blew
Trying
To
Get
Back
To
You
Weather
The
Two
And
Still
Not
Through
Mangled
Tether
Secondary
Strap
Always
Comes
Back
For
A
Final
Lap...
Weary
Wings
Make
Their
Way
Around
By
Marching
It's
All
You
Search
For
But
Never
Expect
The
Search
For
The
Word
Isn't
Over
Yet...*

It's all you seek,
but never can find.

The elusive word,
evades my mind.

I’ve been converged upon…

Now I can’t even see her face.

My brain is preoccupied in thinking
about the most bizarre things.

Too twisted to describe…

Although I will try anyways...

Mostly;

‘deathmeltexplosiverots.’

That can’t be helped.

That can’t be stopped.

I take my time...

The gathering passed.

An empty seat…

where she was last.

It’s there where I find my plot,
rummaging around
in my flattened heart.

See the beauty of the world,
let it burn a hole through your soul.

Let it be there when you're alone and unknown,
or awake and afraid.

I’ve seen you before
beneath the stack of memories...

You were there and I was free
bursting on reality.

Or thoughtfully giving time
and not dwelling on mine.

The catalyst of hope
in the horrifying abyss.

The creation of change.
A transition into a new phase.

Life’s so full,
Why wait so long?

This is not a song,
but we’re still singing along.

So humble it is we have to die
No matter how hard we try and try
How humble it is that we have to wallow in our own ****
As the filthy become apprised
The wealthy and well off become despised
the poor and deprived become revived
Turning a blind eye leads to one being poked out
The other left to look upon what was so often left drawn
To swallow even the most gravest of swans
Left to wallow oh how I will dote upon
The word I sought
I sought
And I sought
But they were gone
Gone
Gone!
To where they were frowned upon
I wrote new age ledgers
That I doubted on
And when I'm gone I say at least
How humble it is we have to die
When all we did was try and try
So humble it is we have to die
The freedom of verse
Forever cries

People seemingly vanish all the time
But where are they if you're in the same place?
And here I sit still writing within mine
Amidst the candles glow I see your face

There is no curse that cannot be broken
Your aftermath leaves etchings on my heart
That equates to what our love has spoken
The emptiness that feels tears me apart

But here I remain, still, right where I sit
Along on my hands I count the great stars
As the path I must now take back is lit
Back, once more, I go to where this all starts

What has been sleeps peacefully in the past
Tenderly taken by a love at last

In the precious time we spend together
I wonder how long a moment can last
In the scheme it feels we part forever
together, at once, it's already past

Silence beguiles it's maddening crux
That makes my mind fiend to find a reason
What state you think and feel is in a flux
Do you want to love in every season?

I know the answer to this question, "grace."
But I can't help feeling responsible
For all the wasted time and empty space
The closer I come a drift we travel

In time spent apart I will not to tell
the way we all ways attract and repel

How could true love contain a filtered self?
All we think, say and do is who we are
how could misjudgments tear our love in half?
If so, the course of love will not lead far

Somewhere in the distance lies sleeping dreams
The true love that I've seeked within my mind
Is she looking for me within her schemes?
I'm sure when we find it we'll enter blind

And slowly we will come to understand
The love thats afoot that we have to tend
'fore our names are just pebbles in the sand
When all our charades have come to an end

Everything that was us; buried away
Yet true love always has a place to stay

Bitter heart aches can last through lonely rides
I know the exact feeling my darling
I've endured them for my entire life
The calls for eternal understanding

Memories window smiles at the past
And over time I'm reminded again
That the more you look back the less life lasts
Searching for reoccurrence serves the end

a lost love travels cruelly through the night
All along hoping that I would decide
Too much of anything leaves some to waste...
A rotten taste too foul to describe

She's over the shaded eclipsing moon
And our love has come and gone far too soon

Whether here, across the table from us
Or they're just a fading rememberence
The radiant truth burns brightly as thus
The stars must confess of their existence

Somewhere, far away, linger thoughts actions
Told through the universe's consciouness
Which are now freely dancing vibrations
Enticing souls with their vivaciousness

And here we are; the long lost counter parts
Lighting the till where time taxed the stars tolls
While the trepidatious mourn hums it's heart
We make our seperate ways as complex wholes

Yet as far fetched as this story all sounds
We are reflections in the stars rebounds

(And I've been picking dandelions)

The rush of wind chases a wayward cloud
Over the foliage's luscious green mounds
It billows on its good fortune allowed
Feeding flowers leave stock's
roots underground

Petals bloom; centered bud's pollinations
The sun burdens and caresses at once
The bumble lost its edge to pollutants
Overcome in the tepid meadows grace

The seasons start to grow long and narrow
Encompassing the changing of our times
within their altering breadths; to and fro
It's shown upon the rocks face's in tides

She's beauty, ruffling with sents of sweet dew
And in her pluck, spring has become renewed

What is it that you see deep within me?
What fluttering thoughts land with meeting eyes?
What varies between what's been and could be?
When we live so thinly on worldly ties

As you gaze out your spirits window pane
Intimacy takes place in history
Do all these feelings know when to remain?
What is left aft the death of mystery?

A shadow cries beads of blackened lost flecks
Translucent puddles form into nothing
A storm looks within itself and reflects
On how the sun rose it to its brewing

And when I see you, you become my sight
There's no il only courage, will, and might

I heard that greatness
once transferred
through three artists
as they envisioned
upon the same piece
over the course
of our lifetimes.

One being transferred
their explicit mind into
the chiseling away
of white stone.

And now
he stand's
protected from
the elements,
but time will
bring him
to his knees.

I heard that we all
finished something,
but it was left to dissolve
in never has-beens eye’s

The same eyes
that watch over
an Achilles heel
that belongs to
the giant's victor. . .

And the sling,
a seemingly
unimportant thing,
would have
you believe
that the stone
will take us all. . .

Eventually.

Alas it seems
that they have
just exchanged
David's fate
for that of
the giant's. . .

In an ironic twist,
a flick of the (artist’s)wrist.

Life is simple
for something that just is
and never wonders why,
doesn’t get depressed,
or feel the need to cry
for something it doesn’t get.

It just fights for it’s life
with an instinct to protect...

I didn’t mean to project.

I was just sitting in a florescent glow
and watching flames within me grow
another chance to become known
and something else upon the floor…

I’ve seen deflects so common
they scream to be forgotten.

I washed a window late,
or not that often.

My view can be so rotten
that sunny days
seem but a murky haze,
and watching rain
can even put a smile
on my face.

I’m not a lace
to be done up,
or a shoe with a sole
to be stepped on.

I could have thought that
I would have been the road,
but I’m not manufactured...

I’m the soul within
and I’m keeping myself afloat.

They colour in dabs
that spark the streaks
long and drawn
about how this and that

don't correspond.

And out of place
to save some face
within their own space
they end and get back to the point...

back onto the same page.

But everyone's to tell
what words to those who are heard
and never to be
fall friverously on vincibility.

They seem to see...

that the sun paints me
tangerine
and tangents are all
that's ever been.

Have a seat;
you’re the only one left.

Find comfort in your solitude
and enjoy the best spot in the house
all to yourself.

Do what you want.

No one's there to judge.

You’re as free as anyone could ever be.

Don’t feel bad
about all the times that were never had,
or all the opportunities missed,
or passed unknown.

And see for once
that there was no right
and no wrong.

Although they spoke different,
they really weren’t...

They put you down
so they could elevate themselves.

Their seamless interactions
came from being known
by with whom they played.

Several inside jokes in a row
could turn anyone off…

And those who insulted
were just trying to do the same,
but they didn’t have
the higher ground to maintain…

So they cut at you
to try to bring you down.

Succumb to their insults
and you will surely hit the ground...

So live in the now.

live for the day.

be you…

and don’t let *them…

Have their way.

(A Slight Tug)

Sweeter than poison rain
down my storm drain.

More graceful than a passing dove
landing in a frozen frame
on the branch of a family tree.

More belonging than me…

Information gathers at the tips of wits.

A type of rope by a blamed name
and the street starts and parts the same.

I read myself in a remembrance.

I watch the time to forget this,
but the time doesn't forget me.

It knows the keys I played in reality.

It hears the depths of misunderstanding,
and smiles…

If it could...

If only it wasn't made out of that ******* wood.

A branch breaks in the forest.

It doesn't care if a human's around to hear it's sound.

It's saplings whisper on the wind.

It cries forever having to begin
being born all over again.

A lover slips into a questioned bed.

A send off by any choice
could make me feel quite sick.

It wasn't the petrol that glossed the nerves...

It was the flesh of the skin.

I marked a remark before it knew it wasn't going to begin
and passed up my opportunity for a distraction that leaves me (alone).

A gift goes ungiven,
but not to a friend,
and as coy as a mouse,
it doesn't forget to say thanks.

Thanks.
Thanks?
Thanks…?

Thanks For what?

I'm grated and fried
all within a why?

And I await,

Frayed,

for the final reply...

S.  T.  A.  R.  T.  I.  N.  G  

A  T  

S o m e t h i n g

S. O.

S i m pl e

And then
Ending with some thing a little more complex…

(Invitation and Intervention)

A man looks back and reflects on any place he could have been,
while knowing time will sweep us all away eventually.

This isn’t a *home,
This is only temporary.

Anyone ever could have been at odds with everything that ever existed,
but for one night be so lost in thought that they forgot what ever was.

And by tomorrow
a change devoured the marrow,
as they find that it all was
and never what they thought in,
but out.

While the screaming world comes about,
and I break forth into that odd place
where every face comes inside,
and I feel like a ghost
who’s felt the surface like braille,
and read the book of the softly lit place
where people come out to have another taste,
and celebrate the fact
that they’re still on this world.

And so the old man puts on his coat,
and walks away when they please it…

But I'm sure that’s not the way he see’s it.

The long lost substance
That money can not depart

You come to me as yourself
You come to me as you fall apart

You do not understand when the time has changed
You do not have tomorrow on your face

You kiss my lips
My lips are gone

You kiss my wounds
My wounds have healed

You live a life
That I could steal

You love me forever
Is forever real?

When is now going to be
When you feel?

I kiss your lips
I unlock your heart

You do not understand
We’re never a part

He rushes out
And then
Back in again
In a never ending cycle
Of advancement
And retreat

His legions
Are cast by the Moon
Up above
From which he draws
His battle plans
In the sand
Which are just to be washed away
And become drawn a new

The Sun
Above all
Wreak havocs on his desires
Casting his army into the sky
And moving them into far off regions

But the King of Tides collects
And disperses In careful stratagem

Pushing forwards towards his ultimate conquest

To bring down all the mighty Earth
That opposes his reign
And drown it deep within his sea

(Along with the Atmosphere)

Here we are again...
another look to stare.

You’ll wait for me to come your way,
I’ll stay over there.

I can’t seem to be bothered to be
removed from my selfish chair.

Didn’t you know that I no longer cared?*

It’s as worn as my welcome,
which is gone in such a way
that one could believe
I was never there...
                
...or here.

I forgot what moment was which…

...It’s too late.

I’m already bewitched
by the thoughts that I have streamed
and it’s gone along with every dream
That we have ever dreamed....

...which didn’t seem too important to me.

I heard reality,
abrasive and pane’d,
she was cruel,
but not as cruel as thee...

Who can only serve to fit
                                                             ­                  the most unfitting of endings.

Here we are,
there we were,
watching matters
flutter by...

Without sight,
out of mind.
Closed off from the view
that we all carried…

With, or without me…

Or the line passed onto you.

I can see still
a place we have,
like looking back
at the stream we passed…

Laying down I’m taken back...

With a flash I see again…

With not a care
we float on by
on the ground
while in the sky.

Here we are,
there we were,
watching matters
flutter by...

Without sight,
out of mind.
Closed off from the view
that we all carried…

With, or without me…

Or the line passed onto you.

I can see still
a place we have,
like looking back
at the stream we passed…

Laying down I’m taken back...

With a flash I see again…

With not a care
we float on by
on the ground
while in the sky.

It’s funny how when nothing matters the focus can wonder…

I thought so long about the world within a word,
I didn’t realize it was within it the whole time…

And the hole can be such an uneven thing;
swallowing up all (everything) that dares to get near,
or peer within,
without a fear...

And to just jump in without a care…

to turn back time and relive again,
or a consciousness that settles upon a thin lit mind
that tries and tries,
but can never look in,
for if it did it would go blind
to a reality
that never even treated it kindly
to begin with anyway.

So death creeps in,
from within…

But the gathering,
who's so far down
in the blackest of black layers,
finds it can’t go down any further.

It’s fabric has gathered such a mass
that no more thoughts can get passed the openings grasp
and so the whole begins to pop,
like a bubble whose air has stopped,
and deflates back out and in
with all the flaws that turned out not to be flaws at all,
for all the folds get stretched flat
and rejoins everything...

‘Everything?!

Hey!

That’s actually me.’

And so it goes on until another hole is found
to go down,
but not to worry you see…

*You are actually
also me.

It was a foreshadowing so strong
that I could almost see
the face within the silhouette.

How could I ever forget
the day that the two
directional arrows passed?

I’ll never see one
way the same again…

A forfeited love to have...
A chance at a beautiful sunset…

One that I would gladly forget
to have you lie beside me...

and crawl up marble steps
to get a glimpse
of what lays behind those eyes.

If you could be with someone who actually loves you
leave me right now.

I am not an anchor tied to your ankle dragging you down,
drawing you into a sea of regrets
like overboard rice
taking on too much water and becoming mushed mash,
so even when you try to save them by throwing a line,
or holding out a stick,
they’re too far gone for you to get a grip.

You’ll go unfed and your soul will starve
when old age reveals it’s long awaited scars.

Same goes for me.

I’d leave in a heartbeat that beats twice
in two.

It has nothing to do with me and you.

But in my mind she still flattens the rice out,
even and nice…

Not undercooked
and still on board
waiting to be rolled cut and served.

To me maybe...

I do not know.

So I wait patiently
with the others in line,
while our opposites wave on bye,
waiting for two peaks to meet
and two valleys
to depart.

That is a certainty
of two caught eyes.

That is the key
to a victorious heart.

I’m fresh out of thoughts,
or feud to fuel.

Stick around and I’ll think of something,
or leave right now and I won’t blame you...

These next words prove a point.

The ones that follow eradicate a meaning...

I’m breaking a wall
and I’m standing next to you.

Speaking to you
through you.

Can you hear me?

Are you breathing?

I wish we were true…

Then we could read a word in time forever,
together…

But alas we’re just passing through…

(we are) The Voyagers.

An experience for two…

And all the others-

We ever knew.

It is the soul.
It is the purpose.

What this is
is just as important as,
“What is This?”

The searching in between
is what makes life worth “It...”

It is This.



(Words are a poor portrayal
Of what the soul has to offer)

What does it matter how old?

Don’t you know
that you’ve plateaued?

What are you waiting for
when all your dates are already told…

It’s over before it begins;
you’re dead before you’re born.

Now I'll spend the day
trying to remember all the things
I’ve said…

All the things
I’m going to say…

It matters not.

Both ways are dreaming.

Everything is so unreal…

Reality is screaming at me.

Can you believe it?

I’ve done nothing wrong,
but that’s where it lies.

The wrong I’ve done
is being alive.

I finally found her,
she’s in the mirror...

But she’s staring off into space
with a:

Not everything is clear
kind of glazed eyed glare.

I’ll try not to stare
and not to obsess...

I’ll only show my
invested interests,

but attraction
is attraction...

And caring
is weird.