breeze back to the days before life had changed
venture to the remembrances
the birds gather dozen or so
in the almost lake of a puddle
all talking their reasons in such beautiful voice of song
but i scatter them to wing
with a casual shout
early morning sun burns the water to mist
and i splash thru with mock giant step
making as much of a mess as i can
because i can eat my desert before i eat dinner
i can stay up and watch the late late movie
while drinking a river of beer if that suited me
cause im too **** old to give a
about what anybody thinks
cause im wandering midnight parking lots alone
and i really need a girl like you to hold hands with
run thru puddles with
learn to duck dance under the stars
and find what this strange circus world has to offer us

her fingers trace a delicate pattern
on a photograph with her soft finger
while her lips caressed his name with the tender care
of desperate loneliness and remembrance of
of carefree passion
now missed
with heartfelt ache
but hand in hand with such sorrowful faces
always comes the bitter reproaches
for self and the enemy

sketches of who she thought he was emerge
slowly from her angry words
and flow uneven thru our conversation
as my views of her changing nature
etched into the wall
with deep and wide hand-tool

portrait of our failure
portraits self delusion
finally faced with a heart killing sorrow
she trys to make me do ****** with her
i leave her sitting there
and flee on foot

true to the soul of your years
rough fabric hewn from
a life filled with bitter days
and desperately lonely nights

her worn eyes look thru me
as the candle flickers with nightbrezze
dances light shadows across walls
and amplifies the emptiness
and the window to the world outside reveals
little but the skies wheeling silently overhead
and a trail out of the wilderness
away from her glass cage

hollow hearted she is bent over the page
beads of sweat pepper her brow
her lips flicker with silent phrases
as she labors thru each crafted word
weaving her barefooted form out of the
crisp white page
showing her carefully posing her hands
in the gestures of birds in flight

while her words are in broken french
her soul is fluent with all the seasons
that one finds on the harsh streets
and in the hallways of institutions for bent thinkers

as darkness breaks the soiled sunlight
and the shards sharp and swift
it sheds all premise of innocence

the light is unclean
it breeds children of shadow in the mind
that run laughing thru the memory's
tearing at the fabric of her image
scrawling obscene words on the walls of sanity
and breaking the dusty windows along the road
between your today and all your yesterdays
the essence of its cage bound in place by shadow
know its child of misgivings
see its motherless harlot of fears
and sour the milk of reason with its poison eye
leaving me hungry of the thirsty floor
leaving me angry on the grieving hardtack

like so many who hide themselves away from harm
she became trapped in her illusions
and now spends her days trying in thought alone
to break free
i pity her
as much as i fear a monster like her
your ****** moments fade your smile from my mind

limping slowly into the face of
the oncoming stormfront
his cursing voice carries loud and far across
the expanse of asphalt and filthy puddles
his words twisted
and meanings stillborn
but his foul cursing always comes clean and clear
its a point of pride and joy in his small blackened heart
it replaces all the loves wrest from him by stronger fingers than his
they always have stronger fingers don't they

where do you keep animals on a farm
she inquires from the back of his mad mind
where should you be you rough beast on such a fine summer day
but in the cool shadows of infested filth hole
like an insect
her fantasy face fades with its dark smile

swearing oaths of bitter vengeance
to every accursed face that has ever
bent a wicked eye his unworthy way
and degrading the family name of
every wretched leech ever spawned by
loathsome **** feasting ex-girlfriend

now i must pause this bitter dregs for
the smile which such spewing rancid must bring
hand in hand like twin sisters the tell
of the places me and this mad mans mind have gone
in these strange face nights

its very cold in here
and i am in a great deal of pain
but thru the thick window
i see him limping thru the alternating
sun and cloud shadow across the anvil of the lot
to pull me from this broken fate

racing a vanishing sun
his running shoes tap up dust clouds from
the hardpack sand
entranced by such a strange sky
enchanted by her dreamy voice
whispering distractions
in his minds ear
like her immoral thoughts
or her tunnel visions of nevermind illusions

like a distance runner in a cascade of tropical rain
focus on each stride
each care placed footfall
ponder the sand and coral in the shade of a tree
ponder the depth and breadth of a soul
wonder at thouse who live out their lives never having
known love

footfalls in the dusk
and the distance between his todays has grown narrow
as the gap between his sense of reality and the image his reflection lies to him with
footfalls in the dusk
echo with slight delay
as if he were being chased by a shadow
and he thinks to himself
"how true dat"..."how true dat"
his small brown pet keeps pace
but exhaustion is written in its threadbare bones
and it looks at me with such fear
as they sweat past at slow run
racing a vanished sun
and the strange skies
azure with dust clouds and deep with dreams

he feels alone
but he has become too accustom to
the pace and while he is burnt out but cannot cease
she may return someday
with her long brown hair flowing in a florida coastal breeze
so he keeps running slowly up the roads
running slowly in the shadows of a hasty sun
that was too quick to flee into the night

she weaved a tapestry of notions for me
on the lower level of grand central station
it had rained that night
my jacket retained its damp warmth of summer storm
we ran down the long ramp
past the times square express
to that bench
where she sits tonight
weaving dreams
and avidly talking to friends
by the track where we used to catch the train
to that sleepy little town with the apple orchard
and blueberry farm
near hartford

we had wandered all night along the wet humid streets
and talked about everything under the sun
and a few things over it too
just holding hands and walking
laughing and whispering

i was a young man
you were a young woman
we had the world at our feet
we were everything to eachother
under the sun
and a few things over it as well

tonight she weaves a tapestry of notions for me
in the lower level of grand central
while i rock my childs crib in the bahamas
she talks to her friends
who allways are sitting just there
tho they have all long since gone
her imagination they are allways there
the notion is that no matter where you go
you will allways be loved

the brittle sound of the room
seeps slowly into my  conscious mind
soft low watt bulb echo on closed eyelid
leaves a bitter metallic aftertaste
while an expanding cold puddle
crawls unevenly out onto the hot floor
from the rattling roach infested mini-fridge
stark contrast of filthy green linoleum tile
and what can be described as a breathing moving
once red carpet that seethes with life in the dark end of the room

refugees we huddle in the light
awaiting the shouting and gunfire to die down
long enough to seek semblance of sleep
but naught to be had for love or money
was only days ago we rode into
this place like kings
now we resemble peasants hat in hand
but inside i am smiling
she loves me

obscenity isnt always
in the words written or images sketched
but sometimes in the hearts and minds of
thouse you look within for it least

sometimes the images
overwhelm the idea within them with their simple verse
and he must hurry behind and clean like a proper butler
dusting and polishing to meet the standard
making a home for the love felt
a true home for the misbegotten

but these come thundering out of the dust and noise
hard and swift on massive waves of
untamed emotion
like the sudden shout of peril of the last watchman standing
knowing his warning falls to deaf ears
but he must fulfill his destiny and creed
to be the only one who could have stayed the downfall

but within the sweet reprise of finding
is the void and capitulation
as if the celluloid heroine
steps gently from the screen to the empty room
your weeping occupy's
to comfort as only true royalty of worth can
as only dignity's angel can

you are left with your own cage of
your own doubting thoughts and tread-worn dreams
while she journeys onward with her own
on a cold mist strewn road
far to the north
in some unforgiving land of harlots and liars

the end of this night approaches
bearing its regrets
gently in its arms like comfort and peace of mind
can be purchased with well wishes
and happy thoughts

the last solider limps slowly away from the battlements
wailing his souls song of friends fallen
and blood that never should have been spilled
over such foolish proposition
as words spoken are equal to those written
as such an expensive toll should be paid for some rich mans pocket
overflowing and wasted

inside their own penitentiary of thought
waifs await a quiet moment
when rare birds aglow with a treasure of color
may gather in the dusk.

The leather skinned waifs
and wayward hardcase eye ballers
pick the fallen feathers to remake their own
images into one of a leisurely glide from grace
into one of freedom from guilt
and with deft fingers peel away the last page
as i burn the next
with the hot ink of impatient ideas  
leaving only this page behind
under a spread of stars like a mastermind
madman's ideal tool of complete confusion
baffles the heart and soul by a scattering of kittens laced with poison eyes
undermines the self with overwhelming dark mirth
and leaves a river of doubts in the trenches between
you and all your loved ones of yesterday

Its this temple of repentance and reluctance
a brick and mortar remembrance
of a summers day delicate beginning
a spiders web thin mist
on the open water
and the dulled sparkles of fading stars wheeling overhead
rocking on the waves like in a mothers arms
safe and reassuring

this empty palace of the sun
brings me to my knees
to beg my worth in paper
and weight in coin...
measure the lengths which
i must go to find peace at my days end
and wonder at how long i must linger behind
to watch the ribbons of cloud chase each other across
azure skies

shuffled quietly into the busy day
transit thru layers of faces
and the thousand random sounds
meant to distract
but i keep pen to page till image surfaces
and words flow however uneven

almost seems like my poems are crossing roads
only every other phrase survives to the page
the rest lay unadorned baking in some
unrelenting internal sun
like roadkill my thoughts
strange and laughing
like prussian soldiers aligned wait for
the drunken magician to send
them charging into battle marching
lockstep backwards
they are sure to be slain
but they know they will be resurrected
later in my life as some odd little ditty
about some random babylon nubile kitten
**** and sweating at the door
looking for a fresh spike

perpetual motion in this silent sky
the clouds form up white grey along the east
and in slow parade move thru my vision
'brisk eastern wind says rain' whispers a companion
'best be done with your writing friend'

the boat rocks slowly in the waves
and there on this un-named atoll lay the wreck of
some long beached sloop
her mast snapped in some long forgotten storm
and the poem i labored to give birth to
surrenders to such an image
of loss and forlorn dreams

goodnight my love
goodnight and sleep well iv got the watch
and nothing shall disturb
no storm nor pirate shall approach unheeded
lay back and dream of my poems to you

perpetual motion in this silent sky
the clouds form up white grey along the east
and in slow parade move thru my vision
'brisk eastern wind says rain' whispers a companion
'best be done with your writing friend'
so i close my book and put aside my worn pen
for the night
take the tiller
and make haste for open sea

music echoes across the lot
two different songs shouting at each other
from two different pa speakers
it grates on the mind
vendors make desperate pleas for your pocket
but no buyers come round
they are all lined up waiting
for morning to kick in
like the bottom of the five day old
*** of coffee

flags flowing in stark contrast
to the vivid blue sky
and western shore breeze
the day is a carnival of fools
steady stream of
carefully stepping beach hatters
and sand pickers

nailed to my parking space universe
with my table and odd wares
bent back roasting under the heavy sun
rich with the taste of
yesterdays feast for souls
replete with the texture of tomorrows
bright and vivid blue dream

haggle price till voice harsh
feels odd to your mind
but your loved ones smile
at your antics and embrace you

the music has faded from the lot
as the sun slips into the sea
pulling your leftovers in a cart
you breath your way back to the hole
in the streetlight reflections
and under the eyes of the watchers
and the girls with eyes glittering
hungry souls needing coin

the sun streams down broken by the leaves
and my head sketches romance novels out of the patches of blue sky
that she illustrates with her pleasures,
she weaves a life out of the pure love that she feels
sometimes its pattern of shadows dance with a passing breeze,
sometimes its the harbor lights as a ship slips away out to sea.
she rests her cheek against her arm,
letting her soft brown hair spill loose
cascading down in a strawberry scented river
lined with lilacs and lilies,
swaying in time to the beat of her heart
she looks to me;
she looks right through me.
Sometimes it's in the cardinal's call echoing through still woods;
sometimes it's in starlight that glitters across rain-wet city streets.
She blinks her eyes,
her mouth moving into a smile;
she speaks, letting every lovely syllable trickle from between kissable lips,
soft, caressing words,
finding their way to the clouds.
she rises moving into the evening...
letting each supple line of her form be the subject for novellas of desire,
letting her every motion and gesture in my presence
be her love letters to me...
her tender thoughts of our love affair
and of our moments of sharing our very souls
have become her joy which shines from within,
sometimes like cool moonlight on a summer eve in each others passionate arms
sometimes like the laughing abandon in loves playful embrace.

the lazy fool walks slowly along the path
one hand rests comfortable on the instrument of
his own sense of sensibility
but its feared by all behold him
and his carnival of tricksters

my dream walk along the sand
and she sings a small tune she knows so well
one that leaves stains on the soul
like the trademarks of obscene merchants
its a destiny that cavorts along the easiest line
path of least resistance
but denying her was never in my strong suite
it always leads to madness
but that's least of my worries on this thick summer night

drunk with possibility's
the lazy fool
chases us thru the tidal basin
and into the passionless woods
where lovers get lost
among the plagiarism of their hearts
and the thieves of the tender
my dream spends her days
rescuing the misbegotten from that forest of misfortune

no time to waste on this fool
we disarm him of his his instruments
he cannot manipulate the past as easy
as he dose with the future
and we all see finally
that hes the same one we elected last year
and all the years behind that we have suffered
time to find salvation in sending him packing

so leaving all
the lovers to their own mercy
the fool will be forsaken
and we can have some peace at last

i hear your voice in the shadows
i see your reachin out to save me
but you dont know
you dont see

deep down inside
deep below the fast waters of words
is dark places that have claimed my soul
there are shadows shot into the soul

there are things
in the shadows of your world

just round the corner from your bistro's
just down the street from your happy homes
just round the alley from your bright shopping malls
are places like an open grave
and theres no life there
in the the breathing things crawling there

i came from there
a place no one belongs
a place not easy to escape
so don't ask me
cause i may just tell you
and that's always the first footfall
on that dark path
is thinking bout that dark place
thinking it holds something
other than death
living death

so don't ask me
i don't want to tell you
wouldn't wish it on anyone

risque thoughts inhabit my mind
as she steps back and forth across the threshold  
nubile twenty something hippy dreadlock girl
such a lovely persona  
and moist inked beauty of form
she shouts my poem in the parking garage at four am
the echoes add integrity to it she laughs
my girl takes her in our bed
and shows her some integrity

i would so willfully indulge
but i know that such a creature is
the kind i could come to love with true deep feeling far too easily
and i dare not such misadventure
i am so drawn in by her golden patchouli locks
her fine line inked breast
her laughing gentle eyes

i tell my girl
this interloper of her treasures must depart
in the morning
she is unhappy but agrees
i sleep on the floor
waking to my happy home restored

the ballad is is my ears
and the girl is naked infront of me
the night dosnt care
grind honey just  stand there and grind it for me honey
a thousands shadows in my eyes
iv died a thousand deaths just today
and they all were just in the passing rain
im a troubled man
allways made the wrong turn
always got myself in too deep and had a blade to the ready

but thats all history babe
i can breath this f@#%in soup they call air down here!!!!
oh man the sun is out  and its in your eye lover
and there is nothing but joy in my heart
theres nothing on my face but
the smile you left there inbetween the sheets this moring
so dont f@%k yourself in your thoughts baby
we are gonna be allright
we are gonna take on and conquer this old world
we are gonna be forever babe
we are gonna be just fine

headlights stream by
her head rests on my shoulder
her skin sets my soul on fire
she is everything to me

the long road unwinds
parking lots with just one figure making quick pace
for the nearest exit
none will romance the summer night there ever again
in the long night
closed stores and rows of motionless carts
gone now behind us along a fast highway
we three cast aside all the wares and
all the mementos of yesterday
and swore an oath to celebrate only hope

she slumbers next to me
her skin sets my soul on fire
she is heaven to me
as the flicker of headlights stream past
her dreams are plain to me

turning on the breeze
caught in the back winds of change that has no future
just an endless loop of change for the hope of something better
never to see fruit
never to grow beyond the seed of love in her eye
is not a life she can bear anymore

she slumbers next to me
her skin sets my soul on fire
she is lust and love
mystery and longing
as the flicker of headlights stream past

the years draw down
and as the wood bends and twists in the weather
as the the grass grows and fades to brown and back again
the house stands quiet
as if waiting for the days to return
where laughter echoed in its corners
where love thrived in its warm places
we will never return to this place
the house turns to grey and fades

as the the the thoughts move
into  memory like a single candle in a window
meant to call home a long missing loved one
where have they gone
where is our home to be now they are gone

the song now robust
dances beyond me and her fleet foot
cannot keep the time
she casts a worried eye
but we can not repair the broken
we tend to the wounds but they must mend themselves
we can only love

we must leave the song player to his tale
we must see to our future
we must love each other
since none see us as we see them

we must leave the song player
to his complex fingers
and his wishes that we linger
and as the wood bends and twists in the weather
as the the grass grows and fades to brown and back again
as the years will unfold and show
we were right to leave such a place
to seek a life in the sun

brazen the thief crawling
in filth and the breeding dens of disease and lies
his ragged clothes with many hidden jewels
his thin and dusty form with many faces
he moves like no man
clinging to the wall he appears sudden to you
and his quick speech is watery and thick
to hide his meanings
confusing you with a dazzling light
his fingers slip along your pocket
seeking the riches within
seeking entrance to the forbidden
seeking to ****** to unspeakable

his eye wanders along your clean face
leaving behind a taste of foul intentions
leaving behind a stench of misgivings and stolen words
you shout to force him to withdraw
but he will not flinch from his spider like stance
up on you
up in you

the brazen thief his long practiced appeal
wears down threadbare
and ends in a tattered
textbook of oddly crafted and poorly painted lies
he is no mans friend
he is no man
he is a rough beast
that knows neither sorrow nor regret
do not shield him
do not spare him

her languid face stirs slowly
from its lines
and within it harbours an echo of alarm
as the thoughts like distant thunderstorm that rises on the sky
awaken within her

fleeting moments chase each other across her eye
each one bearing the weight of meaning a little further
than the last until the final one gasping
and sweating it lay its burden to a fitful rest
on the doorpost of her denials
like a blood stained accusation
like a scarlet letter

she greases her hands to the task
and works muscle and bone against the tide
but it is a idea birthed in folly
it is a concept of true lies

harrowing tales regaled around table
of men who strove and men who wept
thouse who slipped benith the waves
with desperate plea sent forth having failed
and thouse who triumph plays over and over in old age's eye
but none were ever told
that did not bear her tainted signature
ink and sweat in fine carved lines
on her dusty limbs

she now sees that she too must one day face
fates indifferent game
must one day choose
and risk all at the hand of chance

her hands greased to the task
her true lies shatter resistance
break stone
tales to regale tonight of the maidens
ink and sweat delicate lines
on her ***** dusty limbs

in the still and heavy air
of the third floor
august
the dust hung in curtains along
shafts of sunlight

time crawls in the hallway like
a rabid beast
afraid  to reveal least
it be consumed

if you breathed slowly you could taste/feel the wood of the roof
baking in the hot sun above you
making slow strange sounds
as it waited thru its years

the cat
'shadow'
is unafraid

aimless among those empty third floor rooms
tossing the words to the page
the chasing thoughts trying to overthrow
my mind aches with the constant images
and flow of words
but i dare not cease
it may be my last day
this may be my last word

it is  not

mimic this moment with imperceptible
perfection
the clockwork of progressions
when the day grew late and the family gathered
i would escape  the cool wet basement
to the far side
safe behind a wall of water none wanted
to walk in

fortress of blue wooden boxes

time distorts the lense
and i grow weary tonight
with no cat to keep my company
so goodnight my brothers
fare thee well

lost horizon
daylight streams down her face
liquid it expresses her hope

a ship adrift on the open sea
with only the dump-ducks to herald her passing
her tiller tied off on a course for the Flemish Cap

deep in the rolling North Atlantic waves the
sounds of the sea begin to speak to you
they weave tales on rainswept deck
they sing shanty's on the lines for the mainsail

the sea is a living thing
with her many moods
and utter crisp beauty

in a dead calm, middle of the Atlantic
no clouds
the stars reflected perfectly off the water
and you are afloat in a sea of lights
iv never seen anything more moving

but beware my friend
she is friend and a foe
i lost a friend out on thouse endless miles
his ship adrift
tiller tied off on a course for the Flemish cap

if you go to sea
be respectful
of the grand dame
and she will show you wonders that will
capture your soul

it was the picture perfect
image of summer
sunlight slanted in thru filthy window

the air was heavy with
an approaching thunderstorm
a distant lawnmower roared to life
the slow breathing of a suntanned beauty
soaking in her rays

the thunderstorm arrived
rain
the wind was swift and with a rush of thoughts
i delved into suntanned beauty
and she into me  
early morning
the rain ended
suntanned beauty had a name
but in the years it has faded from me
like her face
but i still care for her

It felt like late summer and as the sun set i thought id be there forever
her scent lingered on the humid air
but she was gone
like me
never to return to our homes

and as the evening dying rays touch the
faded words on the gravestone
the thought behind them comes to life as i never could

let me into the stream of humanity's mumblings
this emotion thick on my face
my words live
fill the pages
yet i remain an empty vessel
a  winterbound torn down dark amusents
of self sabotage
strife and the wonderful treasures

the sweat pours
like an announcement of desperation
breathing in gasps
it would ease my sorrows
it would ease my soul
weary of the day
lets gather our wits about us
to make safe passage thru the
oncoming silence of darkness

your odd socks gather in the corner
along with half a dress
and a broken stroller
the child sleeps silently

headphones clears
battered noise
fire ignights
the long years unwind before me like a grand sketch
subtle and deep with mystery
unfinished portraits of long forgotten friends
surge forth like a strong breeze
and catch my sails
carry me forth into distant times
where something was shared
and a face comes clear...a place
lenny...the yard..
September nineteen seventy six...
a young striving for mastery...but it was because of....
but the sea is an unforgiving lady
and before i can see
what lay there
the memory fades

the day is ripe with intentions
both planned and spur
but none come to fruition
on the expanding branches of todays sorted
and troublesome thoughts
no answer is a good answer


i lay back in the faulty wire of malfunction
am i just grasping words here
random from the meaning....disturbing
but there is the crux of the problem

static thoughts erratic along the edge of mind
where when what...the normal fare
but the images
crisp clean
a man in a feild...his hair is on fire...he is laughing
a tower in a snowstorm...a single light burns on it...it is desolate

images and the flow
of them along the page
showing the words
rather than speaking them
folly i tell you...folly

the day grows long
and i ahve things to do
i will not do them

he seeks shelter from the rain
in the coffee shop
she offers him a cup of joe
she offers a moment to reflect

the hipsters and hangers about
fill her world with sight and sound
fill her senses with smiles and joy
but inside she know she needs something more
that this place is just an emblem
and cannot sustain a soul like her

she could have anything
she just need ask
but she cant find the words to describe
cant find an image to convey
her souls need

but its clear to him
its a ship sailing to distant spain
its a road leading out into a western desert
its a train rolling thru a dark stormy night to a northern town
its a footpath thru mist
its a man seeking shelter from the rain

he leaves with her smile
which she gave with a hopefull heart

now
wrestle with the shadows in his heart
but its her face that lingers
in the late hour
in this last time he will stand

the standards of the champions
the fighters for truth
the liars
and the ones too dark to do else but die
they gather in harsh light
and prepare to do battle and stand their ground

a prince of the beasts proud and fair
a champion to the ones who have no strength to call their own
the frame of time captures only the movement
but the fickle thought of who he is
prince of beasts proud and fair
champion of the clean linen uniform
regal bearer of the standard of a rising sun

reflected only in the young eyes
those cheering champions like him on from the side
but its only her smile that lingers for him
as his life flows spent onto the sand

she never did catch that train
never did escape that shop
never did grow beyond the borders
of the hipsters and hangers on
but least they loved her too
in their way
and that is some comfort

the face turned into the haze of the sun
and in the corner of its unseeing eye
i perceived the nature
of these truths
its in that turned face
its empty gaze cast over the far distant landscape
we all seek to sate the thirst
for a sweeter wine
unleash the mystery of self
unlock the untamed within

its smooth plastic features
hides nothing
but some would say that only reveals that it hides all truth
in its pastel faceless features
that we all see ourselfs

in its pastel faceless features
i see all my loneliness
all my shared joys
all loves all sorrows
all my years struggling against the tide
mishap and perchance
its in that man made  face
that we perceive the distance we must travel to find ourselfs
the trials we must endure to discover the truth
behind our own eyes

coiled in its depths are the answers we all seek
after all isnt it that simple
we create the troubles we seek to destroy
in its smooth plastic skin
she finds comfort
free from the fear of another's unpredictable madness
she can explore her own illusions
and that too seems sure
we destroy what we live for

on the beaches of my puddles
and in the forests between my lawn
and the kitchens back door
of my childhood home
the ages have worn away the questions
that once kept me staring off hopeful to the dawn
trying to decipher the meanings
from patterns of a gods casual breath

and so here i linger
these lifetimes later
waiting for the answers
that an inhuman human face hides
pastel kaleidescope
of the turned face
the barren night filled with wishes
and wishes filled with regrets

its pastel tones
haunt the night
its dark mutterings
play along the road that she bicycles on
whistling a girlhood tune
as she fades into loss
the light in her eyes gone forever
sometimes answers are the last thing we need

wet streets after the rain
wet thoughts after the lingering
she cavorts in your limbs like a animal unleashed
like a army of fingers seeking to overthrow
like a thought seeking to master

she stumbles on the doorstep
of seeing
hesitates at the verge of meeting the other
half of her own need
leaving herself empty
leaving herself incomplete
leaving the taste on her lips but no meat to the bone
leaving visions of soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight

rain is
the sound
the face in the dark room
the surrender of the primal need to speak
any words that are not capitulation
not redaction of proud sworn oath

she lingers in the mornings bathroom
grazing at the edge of a farmland
places where such dreams are grown
but she dare not partake
she cannot think she would suffice

leaving a soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight
a poignant symbol
an emblem of meaningless loss

(part 3)
rain
and the thoughts
i can break free and spill to the page
like lesser beasts escaping the wood on fire
and i see the time rapidly growing thin
a starving creature
the hours flee
room to room
crying out that doom draws near
rain
and its wet touch chills more than skin
it brings rancid thought to breaking open
and spreading across
the once sweet fruit
and within that moment
rain frees me from feeling
all the things that i drowning in
fills me
slow with blue waters
slows the race
fills me
slower with memory
rain
the thoughts that escape me now
are tempered
by the blade of waters burning touch
rain
glowing on the the seeking bones marrow
growing on the feeding of this hunger
it vaults into the stars
and its quickening heartbeat
forces free more than words emotion begins to follow
like the priests coming to worship at the temple of death
they bring life to face itself in its endings
words new to my eye spill forth
rain
like bright diamonds like tears
rain rain
rain

the day races to extinction
and as the shadows dominate
the last few warm rays
become lambent on the abnormal insight
that has grown within me as
the day has grown long
she had no face
she had no presence in the air
no name or written word to leave behind
yet here she is
a mere ghost  image between the dark sheets
of the rainstorm
as she has for may years
just watching silently

the  scratching noises of the pen in my hand
replaces the wind-song of summer day with harsh tones
yet it brings my thoughts to distant woodland lake
that was my escape from the years that i spent in the
company of the lesser misbegotten

that lake and the my time there
was unchanged and seems remote in my vision
from the turmoil of my winterbound soul

plundering my forward motion for the energy to cope
with the passing thoughts like carnivals of flesh
obscene visions of naked truth
unrestrained by years of devoted hiding
i am unable to grasp any other path
than to become like her
a shadow obscured in the
in the rainstorm
a fleeting vision
in the passing hours

with a watchers patience
he unfolded the chair
rusted to the doorstep
with fine grains of red
like a thousand fingers
wander till the cold dawn breaks
searching for my souls ease

your life is the slamming
of typewriter keys
to paint with crafted words the world you would dream
the world she would love you in
your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating
into a future you cannot
comprehend
but fret over

like the wringing of sweaty hands
pacing the hall
small bald fat men
with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits
but fret over like the well greased
plans and carefully laid desings
of another mans futures past misgivings

i fought with all i had
i gave all my heart and soul
till my very bones ached
fought till i could bear no more
till i fell
in the first breakers of dawn
in the first shallow fingers of dawn

these battered days

kept in an old tin cup

like the mutterings of defining moments

spycraft used by gutter punk girls

and the long hours of pestilence

inquire as to the day

but i am hobbled by the lack

of words



and my vision is

jacked up by impurity's in my dope

and

this is not a rig...its a railroad spike

she leans in to steal some

and i ****** it back

then just to confound her

i hand her all my dope

take it

ill get more

and i kiss her

i got an extra bus ticket
for the redhead
she may come with us
she and my girl sleep toghter all the time
i dont know
menages a trois
work somtimes
but not allways

any action brings
intolerable dreams
inaction is not possible
decree of destitution
the image to impart to you
is a small framed window
single paine glass
old old glass
the kind that gave little more
than greasy distorted image
and the contained within is the fleeting distant
cries pleading and warning
calling for hope within a
decree of destitution
both a wretched creature malformed and ill
and man stout and fair within the same coffin of flesh
innocence vilified

as if they were mere
words these phrases i throw
down on the page with the haste of rage
as if mere words could blast and sunder stone
as these have the cold rock of my heart
as if mere words could rip screaming vengeance
from the blood faces of a battlefield
but that is the nature of warring desires
within the cage of one mans soul
no....these words i wrest from burning rage
are not passing fancy on some distant summers day
but the very fingers of ****** clawing for
purchase on vile enemy's throat
the very sweat of the embittered battle between
sworn foe
but that is the nature of warring desires
within the cage of one mans soul

i cannot contain my fear
it run rampant in the fresh planted fields
of plans come to naught
my rancid terror dances and tramples
thru the ordered lines of what we have built
my horror
feeds loose and hungry
on the fallow crop
distorted and screaming obscenity's  at your soft skin
the discharge of pointless angers
retort to my hope
i cannot remain seated here a moment longer

my lover wrapped in white linens
with the small breezes stirring
the curtains
with the first rays of summer morning breaking on her brow
like wild horses scatter full of the power of beauty and purity
with the power of my desire for her
my lover
she lay in my arms
warm and breathing softly
and i tenderly kiss her lips
and tell her that she is my temple
she is a epic adventure that i open each day
to find what wondrous vista she will teach me
what deep mystery she will unlock before me
to find the wonder and beauty i find exploring her and her sweet form
to know her
to be with her
in her
to see the world thru the hope i find in her bright eyes
to see each-other in the everyday of our lives
isn't so hard
when its with someone like her

shatterproof smiles
like nineteen sixties plastic american sunshine
on the faded walls
if it was something a "la la la la" song could solve
then he wouldn't be up all night
pacing the hall wringing his clammy hands
whispering over and over
that we have come as far as we can hope to
how can i get you that one step further
shatterproof smiles
look great but they have no love
look super-duper on t.v.
but they wont be there in your darkest hour

but he waits for her
a good egg his mom always said
cause thats what they promised him
a perfect girl with a shatterproof smile
a perfect painting of plastic sunshine
a glittering prize
an empty space behind bright blue eyes

she is one of them
her glory ***** scrapbook
is filled with the blood traces of those
she has severed from their loved ones
and it smells of hard dirt
it smells of unquenchable thirst
she is now years behind me
and so is the monster she choose to be
shes a fast song now
feet too swift to spend a maidens moments
tarrying over the bouquets of roses at graveside
too swift to shed a tear for the children left behind
too swift to see the cost of her heartlessness

a fast song to spin the mind from the hearts ache
from the souls vanquish

i am alone on the long empty street
i see her as a wave of destruction approaching
over the miles and years
and nothing looks more lonely to me
nothing looks more void of humanity
than the look in her eye

i left you behind years ago
monster with perfect shatterproof smiles
and you will never never know what my answer was

and the day ends at last
as we close our door to the
leaving of our last
drunken friend happy on his way home
sweep away the wine glasses
and put up the remnants of our feast
our friends left their loves
all around us
and that warms our souls
and the springtime night
all round us
turn up the sheets and lets escape
into eachother
into your sweet arms

i will wake tommorow
and will live again in your smile
and i will breath again in your laugh

but tonight lets just watch
that movie we like
and make love
drift off
in the middle of the night
not a worry to be found
not a thing stands in our way

and she whispers to me
tomorrow is almost here lover
and i will find it in your arms
i will find all my tomorrows in your arms