the hours bloom in the ebb of flowers
these bones are branches of a thought without signature
who thinks for my blood, my soles or hands
the hands feel to fill up the void of thoughts
who listens to the rhythms of life
who cares to know the decay of truth the reality of feelings
the ghetto of the mind breaks the world into unvindicated stories
we jump into the sky as if into a revolution
we traverse our nature from one end to the other

let's mix the unknown of our thoughts
let's  dequantify, step out of our center
a disputed sky is carrying its weight
who is going to...
fill the torture chambers with the echo of dreams
let poetry vindicate all tears
look brutality in the eye, thought's fermentation
we see the world through our wounds
the magnitude of being alive cancels sunsets
history recycles uncertainty, our necessary hands

we strive to redeem the hiatus of colours

a paradox, perhaps you'd say
imagination frees reality
what if it's the other way round:
reality frees imagination

my lips forget your ironies
waters feel your surrender
the rush hour of something ineffable knows
you are caressing the back of the light
your words are crispy and salty

I emigrate into a silence that keeps its promise
I'll learn your steps like the worm learns the apple
or the sea learns the depth

light learns colour from its carbon dreams

Yeah , that's what I here , hear or heard
You've got the fastest car around in this herd
Got the latest technology
Comes with extraordinary sound
Nobody that's no one can even compare
It climbs the mountains
and comes with all of the thrills to scare
But eventually it's where the rubber hits the road that will cause you to tare
It all comes down to the age that wears
Before now but surely not long
Before it turns into too little too late
The slowing process doesn't stop when you hit the brakes
Then you find that your joy has turned to wrinkles that rust
Wind up as scrap metal that has to be crushed
Every car has it's day on the road and then it's flat tires won't spin and it's down time to commode
. . . sigh . . . but the road goes on forever

We wasted it so
We wasted our souls
Like storm clouds
we broke out
and flooded the seeds
we needed to grow

You held on to me
You tried so hard to see
when I rebounded
from breakdowns
that seemed to wear
down your strong spirit
that you needed to go on

We were stranger than
fiction through our
contradictions
You drifted within me
I poured within you
your currents of
reason to my torrents
of questions
We were
drowning in unison

But as you freed me and
I freed you as we were
both set free by the eternal
Source of freedom  
we need to keep on doing
our part in what we need
to keep on being free.

I sleep with my
top hat on these days.
It keeps the rabbits from
crawling out and running
away.

They are the safest close to
my brain when I sleep.
I don't want them eaten by
feral swine or to wander
off and drown in a vat of wine.

The magic show will
start soon, and I'll pull them
out when least expected.
The crowd will gasp and groan
when I saw the woman in half.

"It's just a trick,"  I yell.
"She's okay, sleight of hand...see."

They know better, the blood
isn't fake.
They see the horror of the
magician's life, even though
it entertains. We all wish it
was an illusion, but it's
showtime.