Troubles fade away
In the far moonlight
All the cares of day
In the far moonlight
Slow and peaceful breathing
As the weary thoughts are leaving
In the far moonlight.

Peace comes unfurled
In the far moonlight
Brows lie unfurrowed
In the far moonlight
Serene faces all I see
As I look around me
In the far moonlight.

If days were not so long
In the far moonlight
We'd not dread the coming dawn
In the far moonlight
If the hours were less hurried
Then we'd never want to worry
In the far moonlight.

My pathway of desire
Seeks the way of least resistance;
Come warm me at your fires
And answer my insistence.

The stars drop flaming names,
Which fall upon the skies;
Their embers burning up
Until the evening dies.

An angel flew too close,
Once upon a sun;
And all his godly aims
And actions came undone.

He waits for darkness now,
Morning Star’s his name:
For the fire in his two eyes
Put the burning sun to shame.

He said that he had a dream..

But living was getting to be awfully heavy
And constantly on guard’s not really alive
But we were all too busy going nowhere,
Knowing here's where we've got to stay,
Here where the earth, the air and water is
Our species gets one chance to find its way.

Mind the fallen, pray to god
That your burden not outweigh the sod;
Who said we've got to eke out the bare years
When yesteryear's one more forgotten day,
One chance to fail or miss your aim,
Watching one by one, as they each betrayed.

Never mind the slaughter and the bleeding,
The way it's rigged so we can never win-
Shots ringing out, as he grabs that railing
Falling on stony ground, he’s falling again,
Always the same sad story repeating,
His eyes grow fixed, and still we keep on calling
Him..

I'd like to see some other measurements-
The ones where humans don't ***** away
Toward the floor; where teeth and skull plates
Aren't widened and flattened into floorboards,
And where the secret grottoes of abbeys
Aren't made silent, by kneeling on cushioned flesh

Where we stretched our eardrums out
To become acoustic ceilings
We left in the smooth, pebbly gossip
As points of interest
To direct the secular gaze upward
Leaving our agoraphobic thoughts
Stranded out there,
Trying to cross that vast expanse
Of white nothingness

The problem of forever
Is that it always ends
Just one octave
Past a plaintive heartbeat

I put on the clothing of monotonous atmospheres
Because there wasn't anything else to wear
And because I like the nice familiarity
Of warm sun, and cooling moon-
All the twilight seasons of sensation,
Of when you could fall eternally,
Knowing that a temperamental universe
Still owned every atom of your being

And Time's scarred fingers endlessly screeching
On the blackboard
Of all your faded significance

The steak tartare had painted toenails
And manicured hands of polished silk;
Mouth with apple, daintily wedged,
Floating in a bath of milk.

I helped myself to a silky ****,
Sliced across it's still-pink grain,
Seasoned with a squirt of lemon
And coarse ground pepper, for a tang.

The seasoned broth was the finest gravy
To moisten the neat cuts of meat,
And sweetened fat, in a frothy pie
Ended the repast, with a treat.

Barnacle-Sam was one hell of a man;
He broke wild horses on the Rio Grande,
He had a skin texture like broken glass,
He caught the horses cause he was fast-
The crustiest cowboy in all of the land.

Circle ****:
A benzene ring of the most powerful
Viral assortment of the worst kind
Accountable to no one,
Secrecy rules this cabal.
Only fire can extinguish this conspiracy-
Burn the rich.

The poor don’t need middle men,
Lawyers or intermediaries
When there’s an obvious infestation
To be dealt with quickly-
Before they change all the rules, again.