Ancient are the eyes,
Ancient the tongue,
Ancient the battles
Bring the world undone.

There’s war, in our blood,
There’s blood, on our hands;
Blood in the rivers,
Blood on the land.

There's just one thing
Worth fighting for,
In the bloodied world
And the future gore;

A man and woman
Remake a world divine;
For around their loving
All futures twine.

A dinosaur keeps stomping through my head,
Giant rhythmic beats pound in my ears.
A coral snake hunts me nightly in my bed
In gloom, he flicks his forked tongue and stares.
Long white necks are peering around corners,
Their bodies never even have to bend;
The necks like flexible tubing find my shadow-
I wish these nightly nightmares would just end.

Floating voices speaking ambiguous English,
Convene to hold their meetings in the air.
I try to sleep but sleep is not forthcoming;
I wish they wouldn't have their meetings here.
The worst has got to be the shouting voices,
That awaken me when I am deep asleep,
They call my name as if a fire encroaches-
Where comes this awful crew that I now keep?

It's not your typical kind of date,
And he doesn't often date women;
But he's alone, and you're alone,
Though it feels so much like sinning.

You can't refuse his offer,
As he waits for you to dress,
Something casual’s best, he says;
It’s good enough for this.

The scenery floats by slowly,
For he doesn't drive too fast;
You're both old enough by now
You want the time to last.

He has a patient smile,
As he opens up the door;
You're alone now, far away-
Though you've been here before.

You eat dinner, watch a movie
While you sit together, close.
There's alcohol, but you don't drink;
Neither of you likes those.

You want to be clear headed,
To remember every thing.
And then it's late, and pretty soon
There's nothing on the screen.

So you go back to the bedrooms,
And you lie beneath the sheets,
And then he comes so silently,
That you can scarcely breathe.

He lies down full beside you,
So quiet, so strangely still;
And finally says, half-strangled,
We'll begin, whenever you will-

And so, you start to kiss him,
As you think of somewhere far;
The past he's tried to leave behind-
He only wants you to kiss his scars..

We men at best are only crimson kings
Who’re caught between the diadem and throne;
We wield the power, weep at what it means-
Miles to conquer, and none of it is home.

We laugh at jokes and toasts, as it's expected,
Reward well both the Jester and the Count
Though little things of kingdom get neglected,
While we the weary battle foils must mount.

But there's one crown of curls, upon one head,
That I'd go farther than the oldest tales;
She sleeps so near now, in her downy bed-
Most men stay free, inside their private hells.

Some night I'll bribe the Moon, in his far space
And build within my heart, a special place..

My moods drain me down
To some immoderate sluice-gate,
They run down the grainy windows,
Clog the sand in the top of the hour-glass
Like bat's tears, like misplaced rainstorms
Looking for a cloud to hang out under.

All my temperaments are accidental,
Wrongly placed; too early or too late
Miscarriages of intention,
Predicaments of inattention.

All the inconsequential moments I inhabit,
I'm wearing thin, from changing my mind too often-
Why is there no groove for thinking,
No energy-saving secret gear?

Sometimes I sit absolutely still
In an uncomfortable position,
Hoping the powers that be will notice me;
Will see that I'm going nowhere, so slowly
And they will send some tempest to help move me along.

I'm also afraid they will send change;
The paralytic not only can't move,
He knows he can never move,
And his biggest fear
Is being thought capable of movement.

In that rapid swirling down the drain,
He wants someone to snag him on a branch,
Save and reclaim his manhood;
Not sit in a tree and watch him spiraling,
While repeating over and over,
Why don't you save yourself?

He knows it's too late for words;
The tears only add to the swelling river.
And if once I thought there was a savior on every corner,
I guess I just got tired of waiting-
Because the ones in the mirror only close their eyes now.

Normalcy both appalls and comforts me-
Why does it all appear so average,
As you go sprawling head first over the falls:
You know nobody elses life will change one iota,
And you know you're just paying some bill
You never even saw.

I will feel nothing at all when you die,
Though the leaves will swirl in early Autumn's breath,
Failing to completely cover other now defunct greenery,
It is just nature's way; after all-
And so, I will feel nothing.

I will weep no tears after you are gone;
You didn't want my tears when you were alive,
And dead, would never know that they were for you.
My tears running down your own face, you would never feel-
There is nothing left to feel, for you.

We lived in the world at the same time,
Breathed and trembled and sighed, upon the same galaxy's arms.
Dreamed and fidgeted and awoke each day, to something brand new.
But I had nothing you wanted, and you had nothing to give-
And what I will feel is simply more nothing; nothing when you are dead.

Shall I go to where no breath is
Shall I go, emptied of fear and desire
Mindful that I am not the body
Shall I go within a blossoming white peace
On a cool, tranquil breeze
Shall go, never doubting my destination
Go unto rest and fullness of spirit
Completeness that was left behind
When I took my first breath
Home, only there, shall I be going.