The sun was bleeding red rivers into the sky,
Whilst the sea calm, rose glass, brushed the sand.
And on my back the rock sat, heavy and cold.
My cursed friend, whose weight encumbers me.
Distant memories wash in with the tide
Curling tendrils of days long gone through the rivulets
Of my mind, in the days before I knew the rock.
But they ebb into the distance as the shoreline recedes,
Then slowly creep back in once more with shallow stealth.
I try to grasp hold, to retain the memory pre-rock,
But it is like trying to grasp grains of sand between your fingers,
It flows back into the golden blanket without identity.
And as I sit on the infinite beach of my dreams,
I stroke tenderly my rock, massaging the granite that clings,
Knowing its suffering is mine to bear alone,
And as the sun dips its head into the sea and the stars
Flicker a million greetings to me,
I head for home with my rock and my life lived.

I am here, risen up
from dust
and I sit in the sand
beneath the mangroves
as fruits fall around me
thudding softly in the
strewn leaves.

We sit here,
where I am,
these fruits
and these insects
and small reptiles,
watching the clouds roll in from the east,
where the ocean sprawls,
lavishing the beach with delicate hands
under the phosphorescent moon.

We all sit here,
the fruits,
insects,
reptiles,
the ocean,
and I-

We watch dense clouds roll in
as distant flashes of light
and gongs of thunder
grow more frequent-

we sit-
we watch-
and we wait-

for the rain.

I remember the darkness before the flames
Remember when death called your name
So strange, we were all so young then

I remember you saying, the shadow was cast
Remember laughing, I’ll have your girl when you pass
So strange, it didn’t last

I remember the dead, the screaming eyes
Remember till I die
So strange, I never asked why

I remember thinking, never again
Remember going straight back in
So strange, had to win

I remember going out drinking with friends
Remember them asking me to explain
So strange, I never saw them again

I remember going over the hill
Remember the kills
So strange, no glory, such a bitter pill

I remember when I knew it was over
Remember how I didn’t die
So strange, why

I remember the day I walked away
Remember looking back
So strange, felt like yesterday.

If you ask my friends what I've become
They'll start singing song lyrics
"Tried to find you t the bottom of a bottle, laying down on the bathroom floor"
"You're gone and she's gotta stay high, all the time, to keep you off her mind"
And by God they wouldn't be wrong.
I've taken up these habits and made them my own
Creating my own personal bubble that's headed straight for hell
I'm not saying what I've become is all your fault
But you certainly contributed to my status.
My chain smoking, my drug use, my increased alcohol consumption
My need to drive dangerously fast, stepping into traffic, my laying on blacktops
To everyone I know, it's as if I'm certainly flirting with Death
And I guess its true
And I'm not taking 100% of the blame
Some of it is on you.

Oh the weight of unrealized love,
The sun that pulls the heart,
The gravity that holds us under,
The rain that floods from eyes,
Only to fall on shores,
Returning us in thoughts,
To the start of love.

My heart runs the similar path of earth,
To escape from hands of light,
Only to find memories of moons,
Shimmering in waters of nights,
On oceans of eyes.

Colored dark but strangely calm,
Our restless waves of thoughts.
Conformed to matter not.
A loveless existence of breathless space,
And purposeless dimensions.

She was not just "asking for it"
Her skirt showing her long limbs
She is not one to submit
Or to give up when told to quit

She will not stand for your catcall
For your whistle and "hey there, doll"
You should not be appalled
Because she really can rule it all

She is fierce and she is true
She's neither higher nor lower, but she is equal to you
Her body is not just something you can tear down and *****
So, pack your things and say adieu

She is feminine
As well as pure adrenaline
Cease to examine this "specimen"
And become a true gentleman

Did I dream
I saw a funeral
Procession leaving
St. Giles Church?
Sans caisson,
Black horses,
Boots and  backward spurs;
No black feathers,
No armbands,
No Oliver's crocodile tears;
No Orleans trumpets
To allay my eternal fears.
I caught them slide
The silver casket,
Bullet-like,
Into a chamber,
To shoot into the ground.
I never heard a sound.