As the chill crawls down the spine
And breath wisps into the cold air
The small hairs on your knuckles
And the nape of your neck stand on end
When you feel the icy breath of evil slowly sliding up behind you
A walk turns into a jog and then a run
Just a feeling but enough
The scream starts in the hollow of your gut
As your diaphragm contracts straight down
It shoots up into your filled lungs
And just at the moment
When your vision begins narrowing
Just when the first slides of your life flicker past your minds eye
A crack
The Darkness takes you
And all is void and nothing
And then you wake
On the bed
In an awkward position
Wondering
Is this where I fell asleep?
Was that a dream?
Then the motion,
Then the swish
The sting
Then the blood
Warm
And then cold
And darkness once more
Wondering
Wondering, why

Helen shall I dash my hopes upon your rocks
Sacrifice my ship to sinking sirens song
Chase your willowisp into the dark swamps deadly mist?
Sultry siren sing to me
And bring me
Towards the jagged expectations of your ever changing shores
I shall sink myself upon the shark filled shoals
Where sailors seek salvation
And find their high hopes drowned
To fall into the endless dark
Where skeletons enthroned
All wear the coral crown

Oh Helen I shall send a fleet with high flags flying
And chance your shifting sands
I shall risk the rocks and waves
the highs and lows of your desire
I shall steer my ship towards heaven
And hope to reach it's shores

Did she caress my head
Did she smile
Was I drunk and wrong instead
Did I imagine what was said?

Did she touch my hand
Did she look with some desire
Was there longing in her eyes
I am uncertain with goodbyes

As she left I question
Was it kindness was it care
was it gentle friendship
That was there?

Was it *** was it lust
Was it baseless short desire
That plays me to the fire?

Was it movement without meaning
Was it apathetic leaning
Absentminded action that was lacking in all feeling?

I don't know
I don't know
But I wonder while I wander
Through my memories and ponder
Did she? Was she? Will she?
Be someone I should pursue?

I don't know,
Do you?

There's not a finer way to go
Than in the early morning
As the new sun rises
And burns the light fog away that sits along the shadow of the mountains.
Dew glistens on the tall grass while bright birds chirp and sing to the new day
The cool air is filled with moisture, with dirt, thick air with life in it.
There's not a more peaceful time to die than that.
It's a good spot under the large oak tree,
Nice shade and a decent view of the range
With a strong branch, for a rough roped noose.

A gruff voiced sheriff and a soft spoken judge
Passed the final sentence and kicked the chair away
While a somber silent minister stood swaying with the breeze
It was a fine morning to die on,
A fine morning to hang

I think surrealism was born of alcohol
The world looks unbelievable when intoxicated
Impossibly intricate, complex and simple
The shapes of the line that might define the borders of the world
Seems uncertain shifting and sublime,
Objectively subject to change

Depth becomes shallow and
Focus is moved from one thing to another
Beautiful women, lights on cars,
They flow and merge in the open night
And become one with the twinkling bright
Of the moon and the distant stars

Energy is movement and light
And it all goes one to the other.
The stranger is friend and now he’s my brother
Bartender!
Please bring me another

In the twilight night
That casts shadows to the day
The cold creeps at the October edges of my single pane windows,
And seeps into my cheaply heated home with newspaper insulation
It catches my toes, and walks up my white hands and grabs my face and nose
The cold grasps firm and goes deep

And in the chilly dieing light  
I found a picture of you laughing, tucked into a book I was going to give you
Suddenly I am dragged back to the moment when I fell in love with your soft native eyes.
And your freckled cheeks drawn in an eternal smile
I loved your black hair and your carefree way

The cold is not cold enough for this,
I open a window and the back door.
I finish my drink to the whiskey sharp bottom,
I cast off my blanket and sit as wind comes in.
The cold is not yet cold enough

I add ice and ***** to my glass
Hoping for Russian absolution
But in the freezing flesh core of my sad meat suit,
As the temperature drops to negative numbers  
My stupid heart still beats for you
And the cold is not cold enough for this.

A mantra of the shiftless souls
The weak and will less
Gutless wretches of world
With quivering quaking shaking legs
The brittle bones of those who cannot stand
Shout retreat at break or loss of their command
Their eyes scream run
When wisdom bids they fight for what they can
But their bridges they have burned,
Roads blocked and rivers ******
They flee from what they feel they cannot fix
And hide with weak and sordid tricks
From things they do not understand

Poised for desperate violence
They stutter uttering lies
Attempting to disguise
The fear within their minds
As they make their alibis
For those who question why?

Fear,
Is their master and their king
Fear for them, the driving thing
And they have given in

You cannot save them

They are lost so let them run
From the hot and burning sun
Let them make it for the hills
For the dark cold comfort of their caves
Where in time they  learn
Courage for their soul to save
Or die in anguish
Never learning to be brave