I still repeat words you said to me over in my head.
And now I only speak in tongues,
For few understand the ramblings of a loveless madman.

I was running,
You were chasing,
You ran out of breath,
I never realised you'd given up.

We are hopeless lovers
Distraught in worlds of unimaginable alone-ness
And I only want you.
I only want you.
And you are not here.

I'm spitting teeth onto the pavement.
Cracked grin cracked across my mouth
like your fist as it splits my lip again.
And again.
And again.
Ribs splitting from the laugh
that is echoing across the bricks
laid psuedo-symetrically like our
best-made plans.

In this corner weighing in at 115 pounds
we have the hopeless romantic.
All featherweight and bones.
All martyrish and faithful.

was the maker lonely
up to the time the maker made?
or merely curious
to discover what a fabricated will
would do or say

maybe the maker has always been making
universe after universe
each divided by plastic orange fences
each using a new ingredient or spice
in the recipe for free will
each seeing a different hue
when light reflects through sky
some perhaps with no light at all
no heat
no change
what will a will do when
there is nothing to break free of?

What do you think of at the word soul?
what is a waterline traced
by a child's fingertip?
what do you see of a cloud
after it has spilled out over the hill?
what is that sound in your ears
a moment before thunder?
that sound of that moment of anticipation
of the wake of a cracked sky?
what is the name of the fear
that floods you when
your heart skips
or stops

What is the soul
is it that which says I and me?
or a silent witness
you occasionally think
to invite over for tea
once the
  dusting
     and the sweeping
        is done

The In-Between
Miles of dust and sun
40 needful years of turning on a bitter lathe
Yet only my children will know why
and will their children's children remember?
will any legacy be left written upon hills of sand?
will there be no wind, no moon, no fear?

No

Well…

Maybe

In a way I am begotten of those stiff-necked nomads
In a way, my feet still burn and suffer the lessons learned

But I have my own desert stretching my toes
But I have seen a promised land filled with giants
and I have sided with the ten
and I have labeled the two - nutbrained

But slow your fear shea… slow your darting eyes and consider…

I live
I don't have to but I live
I live now
At least for now… but
For what?
Must I live for something?
I might live for nothing important
but that is not the same as nothing
and important is a thing to consider
while this wind carries pain into your face

But I do not lie down
to let dunes shift over me
For this fact if none other
I perceive a reason
A something
More even - a Presence
Concepts in the human mind are like these flowing hills - changing
I have not pushed
this far
for the sake of a concept
I know I have not because - becuase - it is not even in my power to do so
you are looking at a turtle on a fencepost - do the math

So return behind the How
Let the weight of the What
and the wonder of the Where
Conclude
with the obvious Why
There is only one
and it is a Who

So tell me while my ears are open
Play Solomon for my blistered and bewildered heart
must I chase wind
or worse… turn heel and flee the wind
all the way back to Egypt
Can these ashes in my mouth be
swallowed or spit
while I yet live - yet journey

I close my eyes
And see a dark, gloomy castle with evil lurking around its corner.

I close my eyes
And feel the soft sand between my toes and the sun’s wrath on my back.

I close my eyes
And breathe that fresh air while soaring across the sky.

I close my eyes
And detest the bitter taste of coffee in my mouth.

I close my eyes
And smell the wonderful scent of Pears soap that I used when I was little.

I close my eyes
And feel the cool snow freeze my fingertip as I hold a icicle.

I close my eyes
And listen to my heart beating a thousand times faster than normal.

I close my eyes
And wait for my betraying face to turn red and give me away.

I close my eyes
And wait for the NJ wind to take me away

I close my eyes
And listen to the soft melody of music among the trees.

I close my eyes
And wish for the aching desire in my heart.

I close my eyes
And remember my life.

I close my eyes
And when I open them,
All I want to do
Is close them again.

We imagine Life sequential-
from birth until we go.
Yet, being fraught with memory,
I protest it is not so.
Our hates, our loves, our prejudice,
all build up over years.
Before we face the precipice,
we face our sum of fears.
My passionate kiss upon your neck
was learned with other lovers.
Even in the here and now
I'll speak some phrase of mother's.
Even when all my cutaneous cells
have shed and been replaced.
I continue to show the world,
what appears the selfsame face.
Every moment of my "Now"
betrays this underpinning
Only in my final breath
can I put paid to my sinning.

There's a place in London,
The tourists never see.
A room containing monsters,
Kept under lock and key.

Each one is enormous,
And yet they mean no harm,
So long as we believe in them,
They keep the country calm...

The learn-ed scientist declared;
" The time has come that I,
by virtue of my own brilliance
will never have to die!"
"I engineered my own Genome
to keep me young and spry."

Indeed, by all appearances
the Doctor's boast seemed true.
His skin was supple like a child's
Though he was eighty two.
His pulse was firm and regular,
His body ripped and lean.
If not for his celebrity
you might think him eighteen.

" I am like the gods themselves-
Immortal is my glory"

The Fates laughed at his insolence
and chose to end his story.
Their Machina Ex Deus
was a drunk who drove a lorry.

Man may match Methuselah
if Science lights his way.
Still irony comes from above
and only Donkeys bray.