drown me along
with the pith and wit
that serve me so poorly

even to the letter,
are the words so empty.
phrased fully,

I'm sentenced to nothing.
book me an eternity.

and turn down (the)
volume after volume
after volume...

I am a tree
who's been pierced by another.

There are heavy tangles.


I have a voice,
but no sight.

Where am I?
Where is she?


Our roots share many stones.

And at my finest,
there is only water,
and sunlight.

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.

I was a lateral,
and ticking.
I saw the seams
in you.

You were the new
becoming.
I was
the precious you.


Stop reflecting,
keen sister.
You were
what I sought.

Be now
transparent, lover.
Become what
I have caught.


Such crystalline seed,
have I projected thus far.

So I sit now in silence,
to see just what
things are.

Leave me my rituals
The flesh is an ocean.
The truths are all doorways
As lust is emotion.

The tie-knots are leakers
As passive in search.
My motives are pullers
Leaving me hung in the lurch.

Test me on turnstiles.
Work me on pleads.
I drift only daily.
I want only needs.

Keep safe Your distance.
And I'll keep all my words.
You laid me for power.
And left me for cursed.

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.

Don't forget this time.
As hard as it is,
It'll pass.
Don't forget this time.
It's purpose
Was meant to last.

Don't forget these days.
They're hard beyond "shoulds",
I know.
Don't forget these days.
They're set
To see you grow.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
They'll soon be a pile of yesterdays.

Let the melody stick.
Let the melody play.
It'll all help you find a gratitude, for
Tomorrow's...

"Today"

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.

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

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

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

You didn't leave
      the way
          you thought you did.


             I realize.


Thus

     I move through,


                    instead of on.

No distractions, no escape,
My Introversion's heavy cape,
My lust may rise against her nape,
So my heart spins hoops of steel.

I wish for 'love', and 'happy-sees',
I wish for Truth, but on my knees,
I pray my soul's 'Unfettered Pleads',
And bandages, that I might heal.

Do angel's need water?
Do angel's need art?
Is there music by which
Their dancing takes part?

Their presence, their gifts,
Their generous deeds.
How pays one back an angel,
Who has aided a need?

She had worked five days that week,
not to mention all that needed tending to
in regard to house and children.

But now, save the soft leak
of birdsong through windows,
the house was quiet and still.

She felt a laziness
in body and mind,
and allowed it.

She found herself on the bed,
giving the woven blanket purpose
as it held her, giving her warmth.

There was no concern for
how long this moment would last,
nor for how much rest might be gained.

There was only
presence, breath,
and allowance.

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.

I shouldn't drink.

You become




love's *******.

I'm not a puzzle,
On a map.
I'm a plated tinder-cap.
  I'm the ***...
               You watch,
                                          That never boils.

I'm not the pressure,
On your skin.
I'm the Let-Me-March-Again.
  I'm the lust...
               You hide,
                                          That ever-toils.

                  (a pause, reset)

I am the weight,
That you ride,
I am the Ever-Justified.

  I am the Blue.

               I am the Blue.


                                                         ­ I am the Blue.

She, was very attractive.
I was a bet, very safe.

Ego and fear
are the poorest
foundations.

Married,
but never
engaged.

A water surround,
A tilt of the head.
I know well enough:
A tub's not a bed.

A leak and the drips.
A flooding of thought.
The temperant time bomb's-
Wet medium watch.

I'll sleep with intention.
After dry-rise, *****.
The luxurious freedom,
Of bachelor bed.

A clarity won,
Expressable whiles.
The nocturning wisdom,
Of fallover smiles.

And sometimes,
I fall into a plane,
wherein I feel the warmth
in my heart,

that all of you are stars.

engage me
low-late,

little tongued Leaf,
now the pocket's
in the shade
in the den.

i'm the length
of a dream,
on a left-hand path,


you're the dots
in the ink

we're the When

That there won't be another
is no longer what it was.

I knew the you you were
though now know what I've become.

The thorns of roses faded,
the salt of oceans dried,
allude to consolations:

to what was our love tied...

I am in love with the surface
Where insects walk,
Water and skin.
No more apologies for
The melodies that shine on her forms.

Sometimes,
I am the weather.


                         I might begin twisting,
                          and touch ground,
                              and leave only a line
                of disruption, sometimes
destruction.


                        I might throw off light-
                                      waves of genuine intensity,
                a Sun's love,
                                         a heat that sends some
                           to cover.


       I might loom large and dark,
til splitting open, to rain.
                                                And wait to think
                                                   on what fruits
                                                  that might bear.



I am
    sometimes the weather,

             not lonely,


                      only wondering,



               what other fronts

                      might be embraced.

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?

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 want to be
the bee that I see
on the small purple flower.

So many eyes, until
there are no others.

  a breath and a buzz and a dip.

Nothing left,
but little lessons for
drawing Love's gauge.

stepping light,
cleaning wings,

    moments and more


                                and more.

That tattered "here",
That weathered "now",
The present plays it's card.

This finest moment,
This actor's line is
Read,
                 however hard.

lay me out as your clothes,

ever closer to you than me were the threads.


lay me out as your clothes,

a soul guarded with those colors to fade.



write a short, folded sorry
hidden in this pocket,

before you
lay me out
as your clothes.

There is a warm strangeness
                   that I hope will fade
     once I walk out under the sun.


The coffee is cold, but finished.
                        My mind feels bigger,
                                                 though emptier.


                              Acceptance comes before peace.
                 I am of the river,
and in it.

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!

Be the bend-far, rooted queen,
Narcolepted upswing.
Be the effervescence,
Be the
                 clock
                             wise
                                          swirl.


Do the summ'ry new cling,
Green finger, rotten ring.
   Do the only-Evers,
Do the
                  thick
                              turn
                                         world.


     stammer-toothy
         diddelack-a-span clean

I love your
                           little hands-
I love your little hand
                                                springs.


                        (one, two)

                                 (one)



Be the guard in black.
Be the curvature stacked.

       Be my woman.

              Be the turn.

              
                               Be
                                       love.

A pleasure sought
does not a monster make,
but I will stay away,
lest I turn you to usage.

I want you more than life,
and I would give as I take,
but I will stay away,
lest I turn you to usage.

You're the draw,
you're the muse,
you're the sleep that I lose.
You're the creature
when(?) deserved
that I will not let me choose.

i am the rot
in the gut,
and i remain usage.

I swell under pretense,
A lightening greed.
I want for my 'peacefuls',
My want learns to need.

I dread so the mirror,
But I know how I learn.
The purging of ballast,
And the healing that burns.

I hot-turn the water,
And off-switch the light.
A growing sits, waiting,
In darkness tonight.

I fall for facades
  
            like skin pale and crows.


    How can I know what is real?

            It's the resonance.


              Would it meet,
          
                   Would it want,
  
                       Would it greet,

                        Would it show,

          would it take me to task in the night
  

                                                  like the resonance....


Stop spinning my heart, please
      till I'm ready to send.

        How could you be of my path?


                           I swallow the still,

                    change acceptance and will

                           till I skip like a stone in the tides

                                                        

                                                                                 of the resonance.

I talk to the girl,
and hope the woman talks back.
I gaze at the swirl,
and hope for some slack.

I waste over chance,
and brace for the coil.
I strike, not as snake,
But I'm selling the oil.

I'm usually mere thumbs,
and a boat with no tack.
So I talk to the girl,
and hope the woman talks back.