The twisted silk, weighted,
The river unridden.
Please, Moon, might I learn this untied.

With struggle's arousal,
I've grown with my hands bound.
Ancestral's teachings have lied.

I cherish the kneeling,
And towering Venus.
This muse has my lust so supplied.

As a coin in bed, flipping,
This boy's heavy lifting.
Which will win here,
        
              My lust,
                                      or
                                                   my pride?

Love poems rot,
The sensical knots.
I tie, overflowing, the dread.

The Pickwitkin Heavy,
The Verveberry Wedding.
Such shanks, still stuck in my head.

My memories loosen,
The Stopshift Tallcluesen,
Cut to myself dreaming in red.

Full throttle forward,
I'll sail ever toward,
My untying your knots from my bed.

God gives us this ,
The daily Sun.
Through dusk not meant
To pass.

Those little things
That daily run,
Enjoy! They will
Not last.

For if they did,
Would boredom set.
And leave us
All atilt.

So I thank God,
This favor clear,
Of just why
Ice cream melts.

etymolo gicilato
pervy and scribe
justa lovidactil
otta wormsandside

ima scribble bluey
evological snide
scriptiburgis outcast
meatiyum pride

urdadidafactus sum
party thatribe

looping over cants
and the meaningless tide

looping over cants
and the meaningless tide

The gap, the take,
The spindle-rake.
Don't designate the load.

The lack, the sting,
The dandy spring,
There's more than you could know.

So weigh your time,
With thundrous lines,
This yours is yours alone.

Thus Live It Loud,
And Sunstorm Proud,
Use this full day
                                     for,
                                                   "GO!"

cool, glass favors
and steep, narrow stairs,

and I'm just a boy as a murmur.

nightgown elicit
and curving's entranced

and a boy well set up for a fervor.

with all borders destroyed
on the floor by her bed

and an innocence thrown out to sea.

I sit on this isle now,
well alone and awake,

searching for a raft

made by me.

Floating like fans
How we're lovers undone,

Play neat,
Look long,
And clean.

Tablatures razed,
We read songs for none.

The empty
Is marked
And deemed

A Sounder's Facade,
A Shuffling Nod.

The sequence
Is set
And sown.

A vastness to reap
No illusion to weep.

I grin the substance of
All things unknown.

The tandem machine,
Is rocking horse clean.
The Give and the Take
......is breath.

We ride symbiotic,
This Life so melodic.
I'll not see my Energy changing,
......as death.

the derby bots
and rounded slots,
the push,
the time,
the go.

the hold-me-down
of ever knots,
the whistle
I can't
blow.

the feigned impress,
the postured lot,
for selves,
do some,
give show.

pulled head from sand,
that anti root.
my only
hope's
to grow.

too young for Her touch
too young for Her need
she took from me power
at the foot of Her greed

though lovely Her lines were
she passed over bounds
submission desire
was all that i found

a score and half later
only now do i ask
what set Her in motion
this unsavory task

i yearn to know peacefuls
i ache to know sane
though Her unripened taking
is my heart's fruitful bane

I struggle and fight,
To paper the light,
That crests under muscle and bone.

So caught is the skin,
The lux, and the thin,
That rides under shadow and tone.

The charcoal I savor,
And touch what I gave her,
This presence, this memory mine.

So journaled her beauty,
With deepening duty,
My happiness-
          
                                        her infinite line.

there's a dent

right here,

in the couch.


Christmas Eve.

In tedium bindings,
And air so confining,
I'm glad for the collar you gave.

A sheetrock, a permit,
A dark-haloed hermit.
I thought I played well as a slave.

but,

My history lesson,
For Mistress, the crescent,
As Moon, you wrenched me to life.

now,

My submission as passing,
Left a Dominant standing,
Shall we play catch with this two sided knife?

a face,
a voice,
a warm touch,

I will allow myself
to fall in love will all things

as I self-agree to act with non-clinging.


the clouds will pass as lovely,

should I suffer to grasp?

The fearless instraction.
The love of things, willow.
The newness of strings in a row.

A topic injusted,
A fated carnation.
Lapelled in your silkiest glow.

I want you not nearly.
Horizoning sunburst.
You're the fewest that I'll ever know.

I'll meet you on morrows.
With clumsiest wordings.
You're the seeds that I've not seen to sow.

With love reset
Near pinball strength
I see the Moon
Without regret

So wiped are tears
Of weight and length
I wake the Sun
With love reset.

lovers are red
oceans are blue
i love the waters
and they love me too

the neatness of fire
the warmth of the you
the simple equations
i work out for you

the angel numeric
may fit in my stride
this kid in your presence
is hopscotching wide

this naif out of training
has nothing to do
but write little sillies
that may be for you

the asker
the taker
the lazy hole-maker
the me and my watching the ground

the tested
the failing
the canvasless sailing
the turnings and ever unfounds

the grati-
tude giving
the talented living, but
the passions are buried in mounds

so ready
the dying
and underground lying
I'm blue
pull me under earth's browns

I will scare you with words,
Of the beautiful sort.
Those loving, but to self,
You're not allowed to report.

I'd make you believe,
In a world full of dreams,
But you prefer, in it's stead,
All those alkaline streams.

As muse, you'd release,
And as poet, I'd lay.
But you'll not accept beauty
As your own, (well, not today).

So I'll write of the ocean,
I'll write of shorestones,
Until you accept full your symphony,
And let me play out your tones.

the mannequin ax
and Ptolemy tax
the spiraling hang-sling salutes

the left of the just
and the tackiest rusts
that lazily now pass for roots

don't hit me with nots
the velveteen clots
you want me, i need you, please leave

from chaos i'm born
with an evergreen scorn
may death find me with empty up-sleeves

I want nothing and all
I want throatchase and falls.
I want spiteful endears,
And ricochet tears.

I want colliders with nothing to lose.


I want crashes indebts,
And bombadier pets.
I want cleft incoherence,
And bookies for parents.

I want you to know how to choose.


I want pratfalls regarded,
And paradigms parted.
I want sickly verbatim,
And writings circadian.

       I want you,
            I want you,

I want you.

etch a sketch
thus blank me please
shake it lose
and shake me free

so clear my mind
erase my heart
even the new
does give me starts

the pain in wants
the ache in needs
my belly turns
butterfly deeds

I want the quit
so spare her eyes
please strap me down

       lobotomize

Please turn me, lovely,
Such wretched figure,
Swaying, laced, and coy.

Please, lay me, lonely,
Trade flesh for peaceful,
Compulsion's little toy.

I'll write nocturnal,
Though feel full daily,
This ownership you've made.

I'll fight desire's
Sweet, dark fires.
My dues are all but paid.

Pritzle-prang and maple dots,
cafe laughter-doon,
the other-spike of apres-lots
sleeps til half past noon.

I'm lost in fortune reading fairs,
the merry scent of loss,
don't share the fours with Aldebarks,
he vents the gainers toss.

Regard the ring with slower-stares-
the dwarven clowns at play,
the toffee apple wrestle fit
makes ache, a night for day.

The painted lips, the glower lakes,
some girls, for sell, for rye,
no chance to take, Ms. Rosenhips.
I'll leave the half-sheets dry.

So sickly-sweet with menalgaze,
with waste, with fear, with fleas.
No elephants, to drag me through.
This circus is not for me.

I want you to dribble.
I want you to turn
From the matriarch past
To a subject to learn.

I want to state plainly.
I want you to see
What your vain, selfish givings
Have created in me:

Most lustful of torments,
Low pains from my knees,
A pattern for this mind's
Truly bittersweet disease.

Just twelve years of innocence,
Could've thanked you for that,
As you gouged in this monster
Within this boy on his back.

I often search for the key now,
That I might walk from this cell.
But I'm still Pavlov's pup,
With you holding the bell.

i'm not here,
that's just the water,

a leftover dear,
and a fallover daughter,

the healths just a dot on my eye.

no cutting skin,
that's just a favor,

an octopus dry,
no sheet laden savor,

i want to define
this most sterile labor,

i'm the diggable pig
in its sty.

I see demons hiding.
I wink at their shadows.
******* themselves, halfway to the curb.

My censor is muted.
My eyes now so lidless.
My voice, oh so set to disturb.

You ring out your outrage-
Crowned Queen of the Vapid.
I mirror the things that you chose.

The Soma, the money,
You burned through such tinder.
I break sidewalk with spoon for your dose.

She sets tries in the Evers,
And with a fingerly snap
Does hope to move others
Toward a self aiding trap.
With a mirror none friendly,
Save a well tailored mask,
Don't waste your time here.
And don't even ask.

She may now be pathing,
And facing her truths.
But I'll bide still my watches,
And wait out her proofs.
I wrestle with nothing,
All but processed the pain.
I care for her now,
As the falling of rain.

Eyes set
with raven silhouette,
and she's not unlike my twin.

And with every effort
to take her pain,
I breathe.


I've practiced long
to draw these lines.


I found her face-


                                  relief.

Verbose as the Sky,
Heavy handed I,
Released to the thoughts of the seen.

Pneumatic in-tension,
A flexible mention.
Meaningless,
Emphatic, and
Green.

So sing the spinners
Of lackrymint folly,
"The dew of the done is the 'Laid'."

But savor the grace-knots,
Of thoughtsal Sir Kno-Heed,
"Your stay here is shorter, now paid."

My wack-grin is bolder,
With knowledge of twisties,
With fervorent type-***** so splayed.

Though sit them each shoulder,
Me drawn so, and quartered,
I'm happily split,
                 and well played.


        well played,
  
                   well played.


Adorncraft doth leave me,
Her ***** done heaving,

This over is moving,
This over is moving.

              this lover
                    and losing
                          is crossed.

the fostry boys and clair-n-tine hills
will wrest away their fears
like marcks-alarns and floaty badge
and puffer-nickel stills.

they'll bother beat with ever chills
and lime-lack in the surf.
I'll wait for time appronaheed,
I'll ferret out the mirth.

you'll not buy wick-ends in their fall
nor taste their merton soot,
you'll waste your fully throtton ball
and save your lamest foot.

as they're the childs of never-been,
the cartwheels at street and rue,
unghost their face as your beating slows,
these boys, to res-cue you.

I want to get working,
But Moon seems to find me.
I want to check list offs.
I want to be Zen.

I'd like to temp-rid her,
But phases distract me,
To close and forget her,
To blank, and then bed.


    the watery choke
       that passes for notes


She ties stomach knotlettes.
She ruins my meals.
Lobotomy fantasies cling.

But suffer the giver.
This surfer may learn here.
This Angel Moon soon may just sing.

she gross,
but I grosser,

will to take her back
as I would, in a
heartbeat

love,
hate,

a congress
of hypocrisies,

set upon cedar flakes,

and matchless.

I didn't know I was paper,
did you?
I was drawn upon, and re-cycled,
It's true.

I've been canvas and clay,
and crayons for days,
cornflower, periwinkle,
plain blue.

I've been stretched over bars,
and chiseled away,
an assemblage
so grateful for glue.

I've been made,
so I've created.
I've expressed, as I felt.
I've been inspired,
and inspiration.

I've been you.

Scream the day!
Those ******* hooflocks!
Don't spin the mere in dread!

You're here, the now.
The sunshark cagers,
Can **** their yesterdeads!

Let's not be held,
Don't yet make peace.
Go *** your path unled.

Let's lose the shapedowns,
****** neg-rakes,
And use their bones for stead.


            Be the churn
                       let's be the churn
your hands so small
                                                let's be the churn

              til something falls!

Lay the Sun, love.
Roundabouts.
By Self, you mire the time.

In low repose,
And tickle tones,
You disregard my rhymes.

In mystic sweeps,
And Jungian leaps,
You distance my sight for love.

But ever patient,
I'll bear my heart.
As butterfly eats the dove.

Seems some of blue saved,
Is for magical beings.
It's saved for their catching of time.

The hues so cuckholded,
And off-swept by needing,
In their want for describing this kind.

They nuzzle toward greenness,
And luxuriant darkness.
And attempt wrapping around her before flight.

But none known can hold her,
She's beyond such chameleon,
Beyond color,
Beyond label.

She is light.

The fortunate I,
The send-sighted me,
What might have I done
To deserve this to see?

That inchworm in paining,
Though pretty she was,
Has set to cocooning,
In endless becomes.

Such books, she has heavy,
Her heart so it spins,
That silken word cover,
With lux-journal skeins.

Such passion in weaving,
She'll fuel open minds,
And full will this artist,
Soon her medium find.

hand it true,
she is not dead,
though my heart-
needs it so.

sit my still,
and pass the dread,
fill my grief,
to let her go.

all things off,
and close my eyes.
let resonate-
that love.

            (removal sounds)
                 (testing 2)

                                 what truths
                              might
                                       my
                       spirit allow

       such saturated
                                                pain


                                 acknowledged loss
                             and
                        heart shelled tossed

          my center's hope
                                                   remains

my center's hope
        remains



I cast the loss to winded seas.
With faith, replacing burns.

An end in sight,
With fairer light,

I sit now in
        
                                         the grieving learn.

          I sit still in,

                                                       the grieving learn.

Feather the links now,
I'm hoppity wide.
My self sight may shrink
Til I stumble my stride.

I'm often the cutter,
Of wit, more than skin.
Attack me with caution as
Meet wears patience thin.

I'll dropkick your efforts,
And sweat through your pores.
My tongue, I'll not *****
While your ears left with sores.

My buy polar bearings
Have spun me til stressed.
You best let me be now,
My button's depressed.

so stuck in the loop
of the other depend
for happinees needs
thus color my end.
new story to raze and
every attempt
so bury my hopeful
so bury the tempt

Save me the wrestle,
Save me the need.
Let's quickstart the happens,
Lest they grow into weeds.

Your hand is safe offered,
Your eyes sharpened wide.
Let's ferry perception,
And bump wakes in stride.

You're blue-my emotion,
I'm red-as your sight.
Let's purple the evening,
And violet the night.

I'll pinch-toss that lackey,
I'll drop-kick that knave,
Though lazed in his efforts,
He's little more than a slave.

A turn-key for hire.
I find my bile rise
At Hypocrites' dementia,
So I'll smile my good-byes.

Breathe your dreams.
In reach the self.
Sideline all debate.

In/As God's design,
You will spend your time.
Allow the created, to, create.

The bumblejunk doorhinge,
The greets labeled orange,
The smart-flats and bungalow'd keens.

I want you for waiting.
My trip-stick is failing.
We settle for high in-betweens.

I know not this purpose,
My heart fakes for circus.
My napsack is packed full of liens.

I fluster the roundings,
And muse over drownings. I
Limp on my confusiest things.