your voice
is the floating
pennywhistle
below the wind.

behind my
eyes, I live
and lie waiting
with your
good company.

your breath
is a moon
for my tide.

my body
is a shaded
leaf
without sense
of you.

Here is forever,
Because we are so duly noted,
As members of what
The layman calls Earth,
But the preacher calls “Kingdom.”
And I call Home.

Ferocity is something unfamiliar,
And yet,
So normal.
It’s not something I tend to access,
But when I do, I really seem to enjoy the startled look on your face.
I’m much more that you ever thought to ask about.

My philosophy is one of apathy.
But, Apathy is what we must destroy.
So, I take my shimmering blade to its throat,
And with one slice, Blood fountains.
How much more Beautiful can a being become?

You and I shall be warriors,
Set on the righteous path of
Holy Destruction.
“This land is the land of Shiva,
Greatest destroyer,
And Black Kali stands above him triumphant,
She is bathed in the blood of mortals,
And yet, I see past the red stains to the tormented heart,
Of a tender wolf. “

“A killer. But, never taught different.
Spilling the blood of the innocent,
But lacking the understanding
Of the sacredity of life. “

Breathe love, my darling.
Breathe love, and exhale deadly monoxide.

Here is forever,
Because we are so duly noted,
As members of what
The layman calls Earth,
But the preacher calls “Kingdom.”
And I call Home.

Ferocity is something unfamiliar,
And yet,
So normal.
It’s not something I tend to access,
But when I do, I really seem to enjoy the startled look on your face.
I’m much more that you ever thought to ask about.

My philosophy is one of apathy.
But, Apathy is what we must destroy.
So, I take my shimmering blade to its throat,
And with one slice, Blood fountains.
How much more Beautiful can a being become?

You and I shall be warriors,
Set on the righteous path of
Holy Destruction.
“This land is the land of Shiva,
Greatest destroyer,
And Black Kali stands above him triumphant,
She is bathed in the blood of mortals,
And yet, I see past the red stains to the tormented heart,
Of a tender wolf. “

“A killer. But, never taught different.
Spilling the blood of the innocent,
But lacking the understanding
Of the sacredity of life. “

Breathe love, my darling.
Breathe love, and exhale deadly monoxide.

Here is forever,
Because we are so duly noted,
As members of what
The layman calls Earth,
But the preacher calls “Kingdom.”
And I call Home.

Ferocity is something unfamiliar,
And yet,
So normal.
It’s not something I tend to access,
But when I do, I really seem to enjoy the startled look on your face.
I’m much more that you ever thought to ask about.

My philosophy is one of apathy.
But, Apathy is what we must destroy.
So, I take my shimmering blade to its throat,
And with one slice, Blood fountains.
How much more Beautiful can a being become?

You and I shall be warriors,
Set on the righteous path of
Holy Destruction.
“This land is the land of Shiva,
Greatest destroyer,
And Black Kali stands above him triumphant,
She is bathed in the blood of mortals,
And yet, I see past the red stains to the tormented heart,
Of a tender wolf. “

“A killer. But, never taught different.
Spilling the blood of the innocent,
But lacking the understanding
Of the sacredity of life. “

Breathe love, my darling.
Breathe love, and exhale deadly monoxide.

“Hello World!”
said timid David,
wrapped in ecstasy.

“If I were to love you,
I would tell you of the flowers
That you would receive
Each February.
But, I’m sorry to admit,
That that’s not quite my bag.
I much prefer to tell you myself,
So the florist be ******.”

David wraps his arms around his arbitrary name.
Love is simple.
Why can’t peace be the same?
We must all ask why we take the sour cynicists into account.
How much can they really represent,
If they’re too busy ******* on my (your) rhetoric?

The layman would ask me to not use my own terminology,
But how can I explain this in terms other than the immortal that I hold dear?
Number 5, number 5, how you suit me so well.
You’re complete, but odd.

Estranged from his or her thoughts,
One must act with swift conduct.
I can’t imagine the consequence of a slower martial artist.

And thus, we make our way to the martial arts,
Dear Reader (that’s you, and I love you, very , very much).
But, let us ignore the subtleties of Tai Chi.
Because, I’m rather drunk, and couldn’t perform
Even if I really wanted to.
Actually, I don’t know that.
Neither do you.

This is my lament.
And my love.
Transcribed in simple English.
“Thank the Gods for *****!”
I yell, with complete sincerity!
This is newness,
Not like the monotony of burning Earth!
My tolerance is at a standstill.

Tolerance
Is what we use an excuse
To be less intoxicated that we actually are.
Toughness incarnate, isn’t it?
Dear Reader? (Much love, by the way.)

Here comes the black;
Wrapped in softer afternoons and distorted visions of God
(Or was it Godess who kissed my tender lips?)
While I waited on Earth to strike my shattered remains.
I was never one to believe in fairy tales,
But the truth is harder to hide
Than the hair from my razor.

What is it I am left with?
Hollowed desires?
Poisoned cognitions?
Absent thoughts?
Always.
There was never any other way to express my love
For the powers that be.

Am I to believe that Nothing really equates
To my existence?
No.
Refusal is my only option.
I love the way I can **** my own reality.
I love the way I can **** yours in my perception.
And mostly,
I want to love you.

Braced,
For the rough, graceful sandpaper offered
by the saxophonist while he woos you with
outright randomness arpeggiated.
The titanic soul of the double-bass
quivers my body,
it lives in the catacombs of my ribs.
And,
I'm jazzed.
Pure chaos,
with a complete understanding of order
but a gleeful disregard.
"I could do that."
Then do it.
And, exhale.