can there ever be
more positive expression
consciousness than you

i am absent just
not empty not gone
when empty not gone

i don't play the game
of what if or maybe
i fall into the day

white pettles on ground
heavy trees with rain present
path i now do walk

Siren screaming warning
fading away     i'm happy
to be alive but the thorns
hurt sometimes like fire ants
in Florida with Palmetto bugs
just really big cockroaches in
Hawaii they are pets and even bigger
like the native gals be gentle baby
doll one eighty five going up
and up to the stars the dreams
of children touch god come from god
are god triune stabbing this that is
in the **** to cause movement
is conscious something or other
soft green leaves with sharp edges
flying liquid rock globs on the mountain
black black black ocean deep
wish i could go there in my mind
but for real they play for money
and we pay and pay and pay and wonder
who's the boss believe it or not
no one is is to scary for some
to accept and i'm writing expository but
where are the images well i'm on my way
to find out hope i get there i know
i'm going to enjoy the journey
free i i i i i

the cold winter bite
i am tracking the prey close
bear killed i shall ****

A wonderful life is not coherent
No linear course can span the all
From 20 till now, a course unimaginable
Yet hear we are, compassion trying to express itself
        despite the illusions.
Forgiveness is not a lie, to stop is to stop
Therefore it has stopped, a comfort of feeling.
The journey is my road, traveled by me, and
Everyone else in the space/time/mind continuum.
I am the sole owner of love, as i am the sole owner
        of fingernails.

Giving up the honey on the razor
Blade      for the nectar of the mind      giving
Up the honey on the razor blade      for
The nectar of the mind      giving up the
Honey on the razor blade      for the nectar
Of the mind      giving up the honey on
The razor blade      for the nectar of the
Mind      giving up the honey on the razor
Blade      for the nectar of the mind
Giving up the honey

i dream of a day
when pain shall no longer be
oh so like a child
my mind grasps blindly

one of the poets
on planet thinks their shakespeare
which on is it   ha

the specter was child
and they dreamt a mystery
i listened and learned

"We"

I know my share of troubles
        I own them all today
Its a price we pay for breathin'
        And its each in his own way.
No runnin' from the pain now
        There's no place left to hide
When the weight of life is heavy
         I need people at my side.
With caring hands that hold me
        To help me through the day
And a warm and human shoulder
        As I cry my blues away.

Our pain is not the devil
        Nor a hated curse of man
Its a common tie that binds us
        Through the colors, creeds and lands.
Now some have trouble walkin'
         And some are halfway blind
Yet we can help each other
        To a gentler state of mind.
We know our share of troubles
        We own them all today
We can let go of many, and
        Live through the ones that stay.

i saw the dog on
the road with
extreme mange

the dogs of life they
they tell me what to do please i
want to be of pack

obscure and abstract
memories of love so soft
i just walk to you

do you walk upon
water the exigent wet
do fishes know swim

angels of heaven
torture a mind to persist
in the realm of god

the self created
demons can be self destroyed
pyschology 1 0 1

"Work The Slow Work"


Work the slow work of diligent accomplishment
In the only now that does exist
Chimeracaly  no forced coercion can prevail
Relatively we bend and sway and break with fads
Hatred commercial excitations selfish desires
****** reflexive static cyclic molecular physics
Birth death birth death birth death
Ultimately i do not understand          therefore i am

the crickets in the
night out the window create
patterns of peace mind

dog  dog breath  dog ****
smells like security now
in days of our need

Long ago i saw you
Altogether      one      walking in my head
You were stabbing yourself in the arm
With a knife
I was eight years old
I loved you then      totally
Beyond conditioning      totally
Beyond words

"Clouds of Thought"

The muse arrives with familiar ease
And illumines the realm of inner view.
Quietly births a soulful breeze
Forms clouds of thought in purest hue.
How lifted do I tread and plod,
Humble receptacle, servant of God.

Each mortal frame a joy contains
That soothes the soul and heart to find.
A healing balm for worldly pains
A heavenly cleft from beastly mind.
Oh, how honored do we tread and plod,
Humble receptacles, servants of God.

haiku 22/6/16

i see a pale horse
grazing on grass in field so
peacefully

**** you you justly
neutered mongrel and the hand
that is up your ****

you must like this poem
if you do not like this poem
experience peace

what we call gods
do not care they
do not exist

the simple folk surround me

the terribles astound me

i wonder which i am some times

and walk among the free

the meaning of the
silence is silence and i
am not even here

i saw a vision
or reality squirrel
sitting still on grass

haiku 22/1/9

common stealth of a
dream moving to the hidden
i awake to soon

its all a matter
of an emptiness that falls
up to a nothing

why are there so many lawyers
in hell, the priests
have to have someone to talk to

saw a small tornado
felt a small earthquake
i am small blessed

heard a single voice
illusion is reality
ignorance manifest

"Wet Green Rock"


The wet green rock
That is our world
Floats round and round
A flaming torch
That sends its rays
Through cold dark space
To warm the air and land
And thus is formed
The womb and tomb
In which we live
Our mortal days
And pained we dream
Of other realms
To lay beyond this sphere

do it in your head
conscious do it in your head
**** the dogs of war

a life a life an
innocent life we were once
ha ha i love you

Ever follow a witch to the witch store?
At times I felt her see me in her head.
An unholy manifest riven in brain chemistry, a pore
For consciousness to flow through, into dead.

the water is low
the sun  beets down forever
all  frogs to sleep

empty black beans can
full of cigarette butts the
smell is unnoticed

dreaming of buddhist
monk i am not even close
i write poetry

there is nothing wrong
with human nature this is
just the way we are

sept.22,18

residue of thought
my life resounds
in my head
a circular

Ultimately we own mere illusions.
This my opinion which you do not like.
Tough! I don't care if your karmicly thick
Mind confined does heroic contortions
To affirm. I don't care if your wispy
Aggregate dreams a Himalayan self
Poor ******* son of Santa Claus. I laugh
At your ***** soft logic, dark, faulty
Twisted, and stillborn at the lip. Live your
Pain to its fullest shape, suffer your thought
Completely. I ask only from this heart
That if you choose, reach to me with hope for
Help, that i may gently lend a hand free
Of pretense, as you have done for me.

dog my friend my dog
he is master i love him
we **** together

the devil walks the
shores of a deep black ocean
my mind is the cause

not a leader but
sideline observer
happy revelation

the generation of knowledge
a task an event a time period
birthed in ignorance
no future thought just now
over and over creation here
the window of memory closed
on the thousands who first
built fire understanding nothing
except burnt fingers smokey eyes

the world saved my life
i owe i owe it's off to work i go