his mind a shatterbox of edges
his thoughts weary and dull
limp along like thorazine smiles
appearing one after another to be following him down the hall
begging him for semblance of inner peace
stop chasing me he whispers mock harshness to the darkness
hoping to frighten the thoughts away
he closes his door shutting out the dark hallway
and escapes to the exact center of light in his safe warm room

mind a shatterbox
full of slow motion detonations of thought and flashes of fragment memory
scary things in his head he keeps wrapped in wool sweaters and mittens
like little children sent out to play in the bitter cold
their voices scratchy with distance and time laughing at him
soon enough with runny noses they go home for cocoa and cookies
leaving him in the exact center of the room
as alone as he has been all night
all of his life
in the exact center of nothing
a shatterbox filled with mystery things
a broken man and his broken mind

he opens the door to the hallway
and with almost gentle grace steps slowly into the darkness
whispering fast prayers to protect from the fingerless hands
that reach but never grasp from the shadows
he moves up the hall to the cold floor bathroom
the chipped tiles are filthy with the tread of feet from up the hall
all the working men from the
burning fields and the crop to be harvested
their language is a song that he cherishes
but their eyes see too much of him so he hides from them

the night wears on as it always will
he repeats to himself that dawn cant be too far off
he only has to survive the silence of night for a little longer
survive the scary things just a little longer
his mind a shatterbox of broken things
protecting the world from the creature within

dawn has come and the new neighbor taps at the door
with the meal he was waiting for
he pulls the door open slowly and without a revealing word
takes the hot food and cakes
darkness is gone to sleep somewhere
hopefully far far  away
shatterbox filled with sleepy things
now hunger isnt a companion

*i knock at his door at dawn
and slip the bag of food into him as light
begins to creep into the world
this is his world
each new neighbor passes the torch to the next
'make sure the old man eats
the mans son pays the bill at the store
and they leave the meals at the door
but the old man almost never leaves that room'
i wish i could do more for him
but they tell me that he is happier alone
i never have been happier alone

like a vision of apocalypse
she drags a tree branch along the muddy
lane to the carnivals edge
where those of like mind gather

she believes her offered symbols
of peace will curry favor among the
indigenous or the occasional forlorn tourist
and she will have her safe harbour for the night
everyone deserves a place to at least rest
their head at the end of a futile day
and all here in the laughing happy places of the misbegotten
will attest to that truth of the road
so is it so strange to see her
with that nugget of hope lodged in her eye like a steel jackhammer

she is a complex phrase on the piano keyboard
that without having to speak entices the mind into the notions
of her tale spun in the scents of her patchouli and
the delicate pattern of her lace dress
her clean ****** limbs are filled with extreme tattoos and scented with fresh ***
she massages herself there
and closes her eyes at the point of contact

she looks at you with a question in her eyes
but she never asks
she is not one to want for what she isnt freely given
so you give her everything you have
along with your hearts strings
hoping to see that smile
that enchanted with its sweet touch

she is a simple turn of words in the worlds master plan
but she is a complexity in your life that
was unseen and unwanted

now she raises her flute
and raises a tune from ages gone past
that stings the hearts soul
with its refrains of pale and drawn lost loves
dying in the cold lands
and the tales of the forlorn waif who waits her days
for the man who went to sea never to return

shes a repeating moment
from the past followed us down from denvers cold
to join us on this beach
only to find me alone
but that means little
because her eyes are like steel jackhammers
ripping into the truths she thinks should be
ignore the reality's of the empty beach

in the briar patch of the mind
the rabbit is fat with his pretense
and the web of his thoughts is brazen and garish
they cascade thru me as he hammers at the dull metal
of his treasures
seeking to make true him rich rabbit dream

his brother the sow begins to shout that the hammering
is an appendage of his nightmares
reaching into the depths of his shallow soul
and twisting the heart-meat of his investment banker infested mind

and both rabbit and sow know they
must redouble their effort
to avoid being the centerpiece of the dinner platter
but in  the briar patch of the mind
its the failing of such grand designs that are the
bread and butter of such feasts
that you and i now wait with such hungers

its a desert of the soul to be certain
no cool thoughts to slake this thirst for the
simple comforts like a woman's hand to hold yours
so we must feed our souls with the scraps
cast aside without care or compassion from the
feast of the tourist trap
but isnt that been our lives far back as we can remember
catching firefly's in the evening rain
and spend the night just watching them with stark wonder
spinning round and round in a jar
looking back we should have just let them roam free
find the own destiny's

i stand here waiting on yet another day of hoping
for that break that will change this
set of dealt cards
for that break of the kid opening the jar
and letting us free to roam the summer free
and let us find a happier destiny

never dreamed that you'd be here
in the harsh light
of rolling wind
unfettered by toiling fingers
free of the recoil of shames blank face
some write some
some read
some dare to dream of a paradise
only to find a land of disintegrating smiles
seeing both sides of that hot coin
makes my eyes dust
read what iv written in her eyes
with my unsure hand
with my fractured heart
with the knowing
that after this
i am alone on this sea
with naught but starvation and stormfront
she quickens
its abyss or absolution
turn my eyes away from the open sky
i cannot face whats written there
she walks up to me
but frowns at something she perceives and drifts away

the light is infected
its disease casts a haze on my weather beaten
its denial of warmth radiates down to my very soul
razor thoughts are the bitter seed in the fertile soil of her filthty mind

vertical sunlight uneven on your confused thoughts
at least illuminate the way
as you forge the path to certain shade
benith palm trees etched out against the tropical horizon

she braids her hair
as she steps slowly among the rose petals
deep eyes entice
as her loose garment falls away
barefoot she weaves her way
from distant vision
to standing before you in deliberate slow motion
letting you drink in her natural and sleek form
before it is joined with yours in hot embrace

seas of sand
and the taste of ocean on the air
salty and swift to the senses
deep with the memory
of a thousand times
on the rolling waves deep in the atlantic's nights
only dreaming of her smoky form leaning into you
as she whispers your name

the light in the porthole
is infected with the muttering of the skippers madness
as he swears to take us deep and far
to a no-mans land of uncharted sea
leave us scattered like dry bones
on the wet soils of nameless atols
with  the bitter breads to be our banquet
and the dog that chewed off his finger as our ale

i climb the wave
to spill us off the crest
abreast the next
just to tempt his ire
but he rights us without a word

sailing in a wide circle
we are round here on the charts
but squared away and shipshape by
the hairy old ******'s eye

gather your faces and arm your footmen
there are challenges to the rule you lain down
with the lambs and wolves of debated thought
gather all your strength child
there is a hard road made of fragile glass
and my tread aint as light as when i was
the impressionable boy you lead astray
dont wish to shatter anyone's world
but somethings got to give like its freaking christmas baby
and its clear that you feel
like your the freakin princess gettin that pony
******* better fork that **** over but with a freakin quickness

like the folded page
creases run thru your hollow eye
as dust gathers like a skull in a window in the mind
intricate lines flow with the song
but these are not the words written there
these are the ones crafted in the hardbake
of hells only road
of pergatorys only path
you know that you allways leave places like this
heavy with profits
so dont hand me your sob stories
just whip out your cannon and spoon
lets get this over with
and no...sweetheart i believe i will pass on
a roll in the sheets with you

the river of my thought
leaks at the edge of my eye
and travels its own narrow mile
before it too comes to believe that she must
let to run free
cause there is nothing but desert
in this land of sea and sand
nothing but the faces of starving poets and there threadbare children
nothing but toys you purchased a week ago
in the basket for return get up the green for your poisons
your dope dreams killing my hope

the old man pulls his cart
slowly across the deep water parking lot
while a western wind brings steady relief
to the unforgiving heat

he hears a voice that
tells him that it'd be OK to let it all slip away
to lay down rest his weary soul
let the days drift
while he stares up at the passing clouds
from underneath his stone

graveyard graveyard i might never leave you
graveyard graveyard i came here to find peace for my weary soul
graveyard graveyard help me forget my name and worries
help me find peace at long last
staring up at passing oceans of clouds and sun
so quiet and serene

twist on the woven fabric of her
vision within the the broken phrase she just
spoke softly into the darkness
it spreads along the pattern of her days
like tears spreading thru her years
she never seems to escape them fully
they are allways a moment away
from her delicate smile
from her soft butterfly of a laugh

break at the waters edge
and draw in a last gasp of the wave and wind tainted air
her voice comes to you
slowly in thick accented phrases
a passion play filled and ready
for sweating hard erotica
in the shade of this palm tree

tattered edges bring me sorrow
but its the untainted heart of her hearts tapestry
is  where i attempt to find a secret home for my
embittered soul
a quiet place from which to shout my poems
down to thouse who would listen
to thouse who could hear
in the morning draw the curtains
shut out the light

misers gather coins at the gate
collecting for the grand empire gone to dust
each coin taken in is caressed with greasy fingers
before being gently placed in the old tin cup
like a band of beggars and a sack full of lies
they are grateful for their small fortunes

outside a stranger passes slowly by
in the heavy rain
a light in his angry fist
that shines out dully with his agony's of doubt
to illuminate the shadows where his love has fled
he spends his days pounding on the doors of every home
seeking the room where he locked away his dreams
leaving no stone unturned he treads softly in the boneyard
seeking the places he may have buried his hope
he will hunt thru the night for a dry fingernail to chew
for a small place to hide and a reason to  bear the unbearable
and wait for the rain to end

the fallen leaves gathered like a tide at his feet
like a spreading death shroud for the days we called our own
the air tasted like blood and wine
the ***** wind gripped our eyes long into the night
carries on it the tears we wept falling from grace
the ones with hope laid it down and took up the faces of fear
we are the ones who gather up such hope
re-sell it in the border towns and dark soulless motels

fools celebrated in the shadows of the hearts crying out
but they fashion tools to carve new lives out of the old
a veritable army of a hundred lackluster minds
as one they commence to make the mountain into a mole hill
when they are done it will be no bigger to anyone except them
so proud of their wares as seen on tv
they buy stock in the ideal that less is more
and its more or less the end of all things
misers gather coins at the gate of this obscene theater
laughing at the ease of it all
its more or less the story of it all
so ends the poem to end all poems

eternity
just a wave of the hand
just a casual thought to bind you to
to this fate for eternity

because you
thought it would be all like yesterday
but the road never remains the same
you can retrace your steps
but you can never go back once you've gone
never be where you once stood
and she looks at you different today
she looks like a stranger to me more and more
as her own road has become strange to her

today was filled with finding ourselfs a new home
but its really a search to find the old one
to try and recapture what we had
the world is before me
a new sky
a new sun
even the air is strange to me

three am
we find a parking lot
and just for a quick laugh
we find a shopping cart
she climbs in and i push faster and faster
trying to catch the stars aflame
trying to beat the rust that moves over the heart
trying to beat the slow misery of moving apart

she wont bed anyone but me
i will never speak to the girl she hates serenity ever again
we fell asleep after making love
slow and careful love
careful to show each-other we haven't lost each-other yet

the bold words came out
of the shadows of night
only her face showed in dim lantern
and so she was betrayed by the track of tears
on her soft skin
her green eyes harbor worlds
filled with places of magic
filled with noble standards defended
by the good and true
its in her vulnerable delicate face
that i find my strength
could not bear to see her come to harm

my eye drifts to her thin delicate lip
and the fine lines that are in her soft smile
and i am drawn to kiss her
i am drawn in to love her once again
long to be surrounded with
be one with everything soft and beautiful there
want to be
desire to be

i am miles and worlds away now
i am standing on a sandy shore
with great ships towering over
that call me away to distant shores
that call me to adventure on the open seas
they are a promise of far distant places
free of the troubles that cloud my heart

she calls my name
and i cant get that soft sound out of my head
cant see anything but her image
her eyes, her soft lips, her voice
i come back to that moment when i could
have just leaned in and kissed her
and taken her
and explored everything soft and beautiful there
every wonderful dream that i could have found with her
every wonderful future we could have run off to discover

that image of her
eyes cast off to one side
strands of hair across her soft skin
her delicate lips
and her deep green eyes

so here i stand torn
between what could have been
and what is
seems like an easy choice
it is not