it grows now in the darkness
like a flower
like a rose
of the most deviant mind
frozen in the fractured moment

then she spoke fatal words
with the tantalizing scent of her perfumed track
it slowly grinds down the mind
one thick syllable of regret at a time
if i had only
if she had only
its deliberate
as is her silence

i know it in my bones
i can feel it eating
can feel each bite of the forbidden fruit
each derisive sigh while chewing slowly
each mocking shift of eye
each small sound effect of pieces cast off hitting the floor
like heads of executed maidens who dared
be near such a true goddess
can feel it eating from inside my veins
open them up and let the unnatural beast out
open them up and let me out

slow my fast fast thoughts
they have grown in the dark garden of the spun mind
like a tree of flowers
like a forest of roses
of the most deviant soul
frozen in the fractured moment
she leans her gaze over the top of her glasses
and smiles at me with her eyes
as she moves her hand across the busy rooms table
to touch my arm with her fingertips for a fleeting second
that touch sets me on fire

but its so wrong
in every sense
i keep the cold pie
in my vein
like a rose
of the most deviant mind
frozen in the fractured moment
to the world it flys by
but in here it floats slow and soft
like a knife slipping in and out of my tender
like a knife finding its home in my tender

i want her
i want a spike full of noise
i want a rose of a deviant mind
frozen in the fractured moment

lingering lingering
a short quick sharp pain
and its eating time
its consuming time
as it erodes the planting process of the thoughts
and stands above me shouting ever so loud
ever so dark
deceiving me with its silent deadly poisons
deceiving me with its soft hand pulling on my tight spots
the cold cream pie tastes deep and wide
full and rich
choking me
like a rose of the most deviant mind
frozen in the fractured moment

she begins to swing her hips
and flicks her bick to overload
her lips on fire with the words
her mind is a furnace comin unglued
see the images leaking out the seams
rivets slamming the walls
as the ***** busts a nut
she is full on now
aint no stopping
aint no slowin down
what are you crazy think you want her
spreadin roots in this state of mind
like unleashing a hailstorm in a paper cup
this version of the girl aint for bring home to momma
she swims out of her eyes
and bites the natural world
but she is an artwork on two fast feet
she is the cover of time pasted on a cereal box
eat that walter cronkite

any questions

his hand a tangled knot
in the handles of his life
and the he begins to bounce on his feet
as the tune rides up onstage
the crows parts to let the kid roll
they can tell this one is gonna burn the carpet
he  calls out the things on his mind
the funky thing crawls down his mind
and out the dancing in his legs
heavy steps like rolling thunder
light ones like flashes of lightening
see the music speak with this
poor fools broken form bouncing
but see that ear to ear grin
that ain't painted there
its live and in person
cause this is living
when the music shakes to your soul
long into the night as the band onstage
plays through their list
plays all the favorite ones
and some for the silly little ones who think
its so cute to wear weekend Tye-dye
these two got the dance-floor sweating
these two stretching the flesh
and greeting the sky
one star at a time
people can you feel the heat
coming off her
shes gonna give birth to a lighting rod
and its gonna explode allover this dance-floor

all  too soon the band is pulling out the encore
fare thee something
and her exhausted smile is filled with love
for every note she has made love to
this night
and his laugh is for the trails of mind light
that he has danced with and ran with
they wind it on down
they meet in the middle
and hold eachother
as the music finally fades
the rest of the world goes home to sleep
these two
will lay down to relive it in visions
for a lifetimes in a dream
goodnight prince of the river
goodnight princess of dreadlocks

the aperture opens
low watt bulb hanging on a chain
rocks slowly in a perceptible breeze coming
from a hole in the wall
a dark odor permeates the room
time has been spent here
desperation has sweated its own flavor of fear in this room
laughter that had no joy has spent hours spilled on the floor
evil has romanced good and plundered its favors
on the stained mattress in the corner
left its once ****** form heaving with
the ****** taste of hedonistic self destruction
slow and pure
pleasured for her like a ribbed one
lubed with promises of a hot carnival of sated fantasy

the aperture closes slowly
the view fades into a single grey line
of wary perception
moments tick by
as the room changes faces

the aperture forced open by her deft fingers
spun monkeynuts she is seeking something to occupy her madness with
or she will end up like the rest in the mirror picking skin
'oh god, please don't let me be a skin picker'
she whispers over and over
as she prys and pulls at the thin metal covering
at the thin eyelid of perception

this perception chain
one moment of reality spawns the next
its clarity the passed on poisoned gene pool of all your yesterdays
the languid drifting from year to year
all the treasures gathered turned to dusty memory
all the lovers fled along the ever enduring wind of change
and as your days have burned slowly down
you begin to realize that each had its place in
the tapestry of your life
and here in this last room of your life
you come face to face with what you have created
and it is unrecognizable to your mind

the walls are covered by ever mutating versions
of a dope shooters regrets
of a spike house roll call of thouse who have cashed in
and are now remembered only by there survivors
i open my eye
and look about in the shadow
and leave you there
because you were never there
you discarded your real self in a spent ****** needle
in the alley behind our once happy home
along with the used ******
from your

as the day ends
the girls walk along the dusty road
barefoot and singing a song from
the old country
carrying baskets full of fruit from the field
white and grey dresses glowing
in the hot August sun
cant you hear em singing
just like Sunday morning
just like a choir in heaven itself
sweet sound rhyming in Portuguese
their beautiful faces with smiles
as they walk in the road home
after the long long day
in the fertile field
picking fruit and filling baskets
time to go home
walk along the busy dusty road
back to the old town
be with their men
with a baby underfoot
how they gonna get the washin done
hear em sining in the late august sun
such a lovely sound
such a sweet sight
the girls walk along the dusty road
barefoot and singing a song from
the old country
carrying baskets full of fruit from the field
white and grey dresses glowing
in the hot August sun

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

such heights
that the heart soars
that the world soaked in such delightful
and enchanting light
that the limitless endurance of unbound soul
and strength of but even such a small smile

her kitten perfect punk rock makeup
entices me to kiss her
but i get entangled in the knitting needle
stuck in her eyebrow
its sharp surface reflections
gives me a glimpse of myself
and my noble knight shinning armor fumblings
and how quaint i must be to her
so old and all
with my guitar and my candles
in the hall
singing a serenade in broken french
at three am

i cook dinner for the six of us
but her friends all female versions
of jealous eyes
just look at my food with guilty suspicion
and the reflections are starting to get to me
after all how should i see
myself except as her other half
and im lacking a mohawk
and id feel kinda silly in one so
i drive in the towns roundabout
looking for a burmuda cop in downtown miami

from these grand heights
i find my way down to the realization
that i never fit into her sense of style
but i went in perfect with her collection of keychains
and teddy bears
im a collectable from the poets line
and how many got of of them hanging bout in the closet
but she strips down and says
hey babe forget the fashion noise
come here and get you some nookie
wanna chew on ya like a chocolate chip cookie
from the grand heights
to going down on the depths
aint so bad after all

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

pour her slowly onto the page
each inch of her soft skin released in liquid
onto the ambiguous background
sharp and clear
her features worn with the hours
seems bleak to the touch
seems to be a long distance to travel for a tear that never falls
a bitter moment
pour her essence onto the deep white page
and she fills the void
she is the void
with alive colors
with dead space between her words
and i lean on her ear
but the things i say evaporate
and the things i feel become whispers of smoke
that she puffs on with causal care
tenderly caress my mind
as i pour her out
eclipse her with brush
overshadow her with shutter speed
and wait for her to capture me before i can flee

i poured her onto the page
every soft inch of her skin
a liquid flowing careful and easy on
the white portrait backdrop
i capture conifer scent
and her profile lanced by pine needles
leisure in the wood
her voice a narrow sharp instrument

her wide hips
swinging slow and ****
packed in skintight jean
and making my mind hazy
with things i shouldn't feel bout a friend
but she moves back and forth back and forth
and the thoughts wont leave me alone

she is a portrait i saw today
and i loved her
as she was seen
and i knew her as she was meant to be
forgiven and forgiving
in an endless night

the backyard lawn freshly cut
provides vivid perfected image of summer
half in shadow of the rubber tree
half in unyielding sunlight
i feel at peace drinking this scene in
i feel the strength of possible futures
i feel the beautified past
summer my old friend
summer my home

barefoot reluctance in the shallow pool
splash her sunning
she gives mock angers and throws a grape at me
this grape of wrath falls to sandy ground
to lay sweating in the sun
forgotten fruits of our laughter's and joys
seeds for tomorrows we will always dream of
and dreams planted in stealth of night
growing to smiles we share today
summer our silent companion
summer our dear home

her voice as she talks is echoed by birdsong
she blends into the days beauty
she is the days beauty
i kiss her while she talks on the phone
she shoos me away
then grabs me and pulls me back in again
and bites my lip tenderly
summer my friend
summer my home

laughter and joys can be seen
in the fluttering's of birds
in the plane climbing into clouds high above
in the insect crawling with intents to the
spent remains of my breakfast
summer is full of life
summer is my home

there was a small bag hanging
on a gold chain round her sweet neck
woven with a pattern of roses
with a single jewel like an eye
it hung there on the musky damp of her of her hot skin
just showing neath the folded
collar of her deep blue shirt
with one painted hand and its bracelet sparkling
she fingered the small leather bag
reminding herself within lay
and the line that was crossed and her desperate hour
and how i was there with solution in hand

she looked out at me from behind thouse majestic eyes
from within the temple of her softly beating heart
from the very center of my known universe
and spoke to me with a small gentle sound
her words caressed the worried brow of my perceptions
the things id been dreamin on in such dark ways
the rumors of worry that haunt my steps
and with my hand held in hers
she walked me on down to the end of the day
scattering dreams at my feet like a path to mystery's
deep satin night sky's with the heat of blazing stars
summer evening with its long gentle hours
comforting lamplight of home golden and safe
all within the majesty of her simple pure eyes
and the soft pink of her lips
as we make love once again neath the spinning stars
surrounded by the landscapes of summer
and the endlessness of time when hand in hand with
your lover
and the small bag now folded
gathering dust in the shadows
fading from memory

we  left the old home just
before first light broke to the east
she looked weary and her head hung low
knew she didnt want to leave
but our song had run its course
and it was time to be movin on
and we knew it would never be the same
the summer sun on the rusted wrecks in the field
the cool cool deep waters that we would swim in
at the lake with the pine trees
the old house had one last night
and we had spent it talking on the roof
watching the stars doing their dance
and as the light creeps on in
we gathered ourselfs for one last kiss
at the door where so long ago had carried
her as a blushing bride across the step
starting our time
starting our lives
never thought we'd have to start all over again
nothing you can say
bank man came and posted his sing
and now we got to roll on
fore they roll over us
time is long in the tooth
but we will be ok im sure
as i look out into the breaking bright sun
and the wider world waiting for me

her eyes are oceans of silence
let me drift there for a lifetime of moments without care
let me know what its like to drown in sweet beauty
let me live the quiet life in her heart
and delve into the silken smooth wine of her voice
while i let her lips ****** me
why am i so lost without hope of her
why must i know this idyllic life in her arms
the sugar of her heart is salty and bittersweet
but oh to taste her presence
perfumed and subtle
soft skin
her eyes are an ocean of silence
bathe in her perfect perfections
lay in the cool waters of her sweet heart
live the quiet life of her
her