Deaf to nature's harmony creates a deviation

not meant as God's creation.

The unnatural bent is towards

false pleasures;

fools can reflect at their leisure.

Climb an ascent and see fire in the sky

is perfect harmony as it zig zags by

but the old male beast sees only youth

when all is worn; dumbness or delusion,

it remains illusion.

Life in a greater sense is harmony not madness,

performed not by chance but in nature's fullness.

Out of a weeping forest a mysterious river flows.

It carries all the souls who lost their way and

have found no place to go.

The river travels very far into the womb of sea.

There the souls met others who came this way to be.

They gather round in floating fright wondering if it

is day or night.

They ponder their predicament and find no answer

to make things right.

The forest where they lost their way weeps for

them every day.

The river gently rushes through collecting those

who must pay their dues.

The ocean's womb is a forever thing that is

the tradegy, that is the sting.

One way in and no way out...

forever doomed to eternal doubt.

Go bravely into this dark night,

death has lost its sting with words

of love on the wing.

Stay stoic before the dark unknown;

better things in heaven than ever known.

Regret nothing in life it soon  passes away;

there were no guarantees only mercy and

moments of Ecstasy.

Take flight before the end, broken wings into

the glow of sun.

Your labor is over, a job well done.

Human life may take its last breath

but you my friend will go on and on...

for in the end love has won.

You swallowed everything rotten when you

swallowed me.

All the indigestion, disgust and anguished reverie.

I keep it tightly locked within...you dared the worst.

You swallowed time and tears and added years;

sorry for what you've done?

You assaulted my infinite oblivion....

my darling solitude and sick...

and yet you thought you'd won.

You lost, my dear, more than you can know.

You can't contain the old re-runs.

So, spit me out into the sea,

a better person you will be.

Let me dwell in my hollow hell with

my demons under lock and key.



Some things should be left alone forever.

Fires burn in the hills around the city.

Smoke curls down like a deadly snake to choke

and take....

I watch and know the knowing....

Our yearly ritual fire and then

a strange voice whispers an invocation,

commonplace yet unknown to most,

this grace...

There is a pathway of unheard fractured voices

that yearn and cry out their poetry...

Catch their words...quickly now!

Words fade as fast as fireflies in a fire.

My ears stretch to their insistence,,,the

poet's pain of knowing.

Their insistence, we are not alone

I am standing here myself by the kitchen table,

the facet drips in the sink...drip, drip, drip,

a familiar repellent sound.

I raise my head upwards with the final beauty

of the done deed...

here in this shabby hotel in the darkest of places

in the city, where the winos roam and  beggars die.

I walk to the room with the white shadow on a blood

splattered wall, a red hand print on the door.

i lift the hank of sticky hair from a worn chair and smell

the clotted blood.

I am filled with weariness; one man's answer to the belly pain.

My eye is a match-flame, the pain a solid lump.

Who will clean up this mess? Who?

I close my eyes in divinity and pain. No redemption...

The neighbors did not hear, they never do not with the radio

blasting out the rock and roll of a seventies tune...

Now there is no noise but a lack of sound.

i have gone deaf from the scream but the scream

was hours or days ago and the radio is unplugged and i stand in

black blood, it covers me and the bathroom is filthy and I

want to leave but stay and try to light a cigarette with shaking

hands. The room is empty except for material things...

strange to feel this cold...her gift of love too clumsy, too worn

not enough to hold me stable not in this dark place.

Why in this space of cockroaches, and stale muscatel?

The room does not answer only its broken ugliness hisses,

and where is the body, curled like a beaten infant in the corner?

Will rats devour her? There is a male insistency on meaning.

i can find no meaning in this stagnant air.

She laughed at me and my hands became weapons.

What was I doing in this shadow-land of the city?

Following what? Death! My death...

Now, i hear again the water dripping, it rips my nerves.

I am strung to a fine pitch...to know, to know not be erased

like so much dirt...dirt is here. i do not live here. Can I burn the

body in the bathtub and run the brown rust water and it will

go away? How many people on this planet starve to death

every second? What time is it? She stole my watch, the *****.

I give it all back. I give her retched life back. I am covered with

her blood and I long to be clean. Long to be rid of her rotting

stench. Who will call the police? I will. i know that as I know the

corpse because I must have wanted this. i have no understanding.

It was a surge of life i sought and only found death. My death,

her death and the world's death. Our planet will die ,just this way

with a dripping facet and a ****** shadow...

The world will die with me.

i hear the voice in whispers...

whispers...whispers...

under the willow tree

the voice says nasty things

***** words

to keep me listening

i hear it by the river

over rock and into splash

slash your wrists, sister

they'll never take you back

i run to my old playhouse

under the old oak floor

the whispers turn to hisses

i can bare it no more

i take the razor and cut so deep

the blood is black and sprays

now maybe at last

the whispers will go away