.


Impaled with sunken eyes,
hung out to dry in the sun.
They crawled up the living crucifix,
struggling to be the first to see heavens' gates.

Wrapped into submission,
Bacchus prepared the crystal
wine glasses. His finest hour.

Temptation's seed hath scattered.




.

.

A thousand hellos
felled by the arrow of one goodbye--

Wordless bleeding...
a hollow hatred howls from
the ache of a dry summer,

withering her heart like a leaf on a limb.









.

.
There were certain tea--chers--

that came crashing through my mind
like a herd of Buffalo,
New Yorkers.

Peeling, pointing porkers.

Try--ing to remind me--
the atmospheric city,
is not the alphabet, Oh!
Should I move out of Ohi--o?

(Oh me, oh me. Oh, my--O!)

I --
was dissolving,
certain rainy days sort of
had that sad effect on me.

And-- I-- was suspended--
high above a swaying bridge,
holding back the water.

Like old comic books and thunderstorms
crashing down like gravity...
And--
I smelled the smell of moth *****,
made me think of someones' grandma.

The empty corners of their closets.
The empty corners of their closets.


And still...
I dream of fly--ing--
high above the alligators
wrestling in an open pit.
While...

an anaconda
drops in uninvited and
squeezes both of them, Oh!

I am not complaining,
just because it's raining.

There were certain tea--chers--

that came crashing through my mind
like a herd of Buffalo,
New Yorkers.

Peeling, pointing porkers.

Try--ing to remind me--
the atmospheric city,
is not the alphabet, Oh!
Should I move out of Ohi--o?

(Oh me, oh me. Oh, my--O!)

I --
was dissolving,
certain rainy days sort of
had that sad effect on me.

And-- I-- was suspended--
high above a swaying bridge,
holding back the water.

And...










.

.
This is a
collaboration between Christopher Glyn John Smith
& redbarchettadrive


I gave her warm wine and flowers,
and she gave me her hand,
and she led me down into
the promised land.

She gave me skin so soft
that felt of the purest silk.
A touch that was tender,
she tasted of honey and milk.

She was my heaven on earth
with such warm copper skin.
Was I just dreamin'?
Was this all a sin?

She is the girl
the girl in my dreams
She keeps me alive
The girl in my dreams

We've kissed once or twice,
subliminally silenced the screams,
but while I'm combing her hair,
she just rocks and she sings...

She sang, give me your life
And I will give you my soul
Give me all of your love
And I will grant you your goal

So, I gave her my life,
then to me it occurs
that she's jumped back into my mind
and she laid down hers.

I gave her warm wine and flowers,
and she gave me her hand,
and she led me down into
the promised land.

She gave me skin so soft
that felt of the purest silk.
A touch that was tender,
she tasted of honey and milk.

She is the girl
The girl in my dreams
She keeps me alive
The girl in my dreams

We've kissed once or twice,
subliminally silenced the screams,
but while I'm combing her hair,
she just rocks and she sings...

She sang, give me your life
And I will give you my soul
Give me all of your love
And I will grant you your goal

So, I gave her my life,
then to me it occurs
that she's jumped back into my mind
and she laid down hers.

I was not, yet there I go--

a childhood re-invented,
one rabbit's foot and skeletons
of ghosts line my pockets.

Where the carnival puppets
pressed their thorns and had torn my flesh.
Chariots always grotesquely alter at midnight.

His night drunkenness rekindled the flames
of my hell.
I could smell daddy
down the hall--

He and his tenderness disorder.

I always scream on the inside
when he walks in my room.
In a slaves frenzy, I kick!

Poisonous memories, rancid and
acidic,
that burning flow,
drips thick inside my brain.
Devouring everything I thought was
good in this world.

--Black and white, black and white.
Everything is black and white!

The impure child, once more baptizes
the devil into eternity.
Whiskey lake laps at the shore
as the gypsy angels are crying.

I was not, yet there I go...

.

So many summers and winters...
kissed by the light of a starlit moon.

The mouth of reason turns to song
as women of darkness
start walking into the light.

When you breathe darkness--
blindness is your curse.
Light is the key to the door,
the heart of every rainbow...

The effect to every cause.






.

.
The chase commenced
as a full moon rose,
life to death is
how it goes.

One last tree
before the cliff stole pride,
no stopping the beast,
they all died.

Tonight the
pipe is passed
and they'll dance for rain...

It was raining buffalo
before the belching train.

Tracks ran over the kyphosis tree
so gnarled in the full moon's light.
Over time it's been forgotten,
her roots became parched,
her trunk was suppressed.

God resurrect the kyphosis tree...




.

.


The corners of my life are worn with cracks,
my spine is older and bowing.
My dust jacket has been consumed by moth,
yet the words within are still glowing.

Thunderheads are dancing in my backyard,
big bands swing in the childrens eyes.
When did imagination become insanity,
death is short-lived, yet everyone tries.

Distant tides crash in a familiar pattern,
queen bees dance within their hive.
Even while tragedy is striking,
you're still glad to be alive.

A glass of red wine sits atop my piano,
and then comes the sudden strike of a key.
A synthetic chord becomes entwined together,
kind of reminds me of you and me.

Where destinies flowed from the magic wand,
then a vast array of cynics came into view.
Then rumbling forces warred with us from
doing unto others as you'd have done unto you.

Complex and complete, yes--
alt and delete never understood, “just because.”
The thunderheads roared, and yet they restored
the man I really thought that I was.

The corners of my life are worn with cracks,
my spine is older and bowing.
My dust jacket has been consumed by moth,
yet the words within are still glowing...

The words within are still *glowing!

.
Underwater illusions
rocked the
oceanic cities.

Jagged shark teeth
gnash  
at the darkness.

Gale force winds
hurl sporadic starlight
like anchors
through crashing waves.

A rocky undersea tempest
pitches a bluish-green spray
stinging the dying
pirates' skin.

Rabid waves foam
at the mouth
as lightning illuminates
every creatures eyes and teeth.

A vicious pitch-black
war waged
from the mouth of
judgment.

Then
an earthquake
swallowed
the ocean.










.

.It's a fragile mortal wonder                                             10    looking patiently seduced,                                           11    perhaps there's a new love                                             3    behind the light silk door.                                               3Emotions just past familiar,                                             13    her demons calming God--                                            13    Lo! behold a live death.                                                  14Stones inside the serpent                                                   15    fight willingly; preparing to                                             15    become the pearls and pain of birth.                         15    Adam & Eve, Cain & Abel?                                          mineWhere wind drawn warnings                                            17    are embraced in safe glory.                                           17Where desperate pretty chords     became one enchanted evening.                                  18+19    Desperate despair grinds in     corners, beneath the standing bed.                             20+21Holding onto old feelings they believed    once mattered; prayer asks what happened.            22+23    The sound of creation crashed at their feet.             23There's power warning angels, putting family     before vanity.  Push the reborn button                      24     to be shrouded in steel. Hide the history                   25     of money before they feed.                                              25Feeble middle fingers shall rise in anger,                         26     and dance the digitized dance                                          26     on warm summer nights.                                                    26Swee­t red poppies pound and explode                              27+me     on the countryside                                                      ­           27     with their bursting blooms of hope.                           (mine)Observe the windows of boredom,                                       28     open the pages of an unread book.                                  29+meVacant apologies transforms the dignity                            30     of a king into a wasteland of                                                 30     moth and brick. The loser is the fool.                                                            ­         me

. The pulse of least resistancelies hidden within the seed.Music makes each moment rise,fulfilling wavelengths' deed.The mighty beasts of ancient dayscast down a noble's heart.Unobtrusive in the end,yet, to end is but to start.Fused with atomic energy,and hopeful honest light;the prophets sought the living cave,the skies prepared to fight.Open-hearted ancient wayshave slain the kingly foe.New life burst forth from simple seed...the seed that we let grow..

.
Building castles out of stardust--
and sprawling cities lit by starlight.

The arranger stands on
geometric borders--

unobtrusive to the rebel's dream.






.

.
It's a black
and white
altering sky.

The mountains ******
their rocky
face through the clouds--

were about to cry.

And one day you wake up
and your dreams seem to scatter.
You gather what you can, and
the rest don't seem to matter.

The noise and the poison
splattered against the sky--

The mountains ******
their rocky face through
the clouds--

were about to cry.




.

.
     The path of least resistance
keeps me writing toward the madness,
     and slandering all the poets
still dredging ancient sadness.

When we stroke the simple minds
     of the massive multitude,
we'll slay the lonely dragons
      of fear and solitude.

    Let's save the poetry
before our thoughts just go black blind..
    Don't let that 'ol intruder
steal the darkness from your mind.
    (Steal the darkness from your mind...)

     As the four winds dry
the ink out of your soul,
     you just stand there crystal clear.

Where sparks, arcs
    and butterflies start flying.
I hear an old lady cry,
    perfecting the art of dying.

    Open your eyes,
here's your last chance.
    Perfect your art or
take your stance.

I will take you away
    because the stage ain't the play...

    Let me take you away,
because the stage ain't the play.

Let's run away,
   because the stage ain't the play.




.

.It was mid-winter, 1927. Cold isn't even one of the wordsI would have used to describethat winter.It was more bone chillingthan I really care to remember. We were both young,Davie and I. November,before momma and daddydied was the last time we had heard from the man at the bank.Foreclosure was the wordthat formed icicles in my heart. We were downto our last can of beans.We were frightened, to say the least. We had no way to heat them,the wood was all burned.I swept away the old ashin hopes there would besome kindling there.There was not. Then I got an idea.When granddad was a boy,he collected chunks of coalthat fell from the trainsrunning from the mountain minesto the cities far away. The unused stall in the barnhad six large burlap bags full.I told Davie to stay put.The snow was so deepthat it took me over an hour to reach the barn.I filled up an old Diamond's potatoes sack plumb to the top.I retraced my stepsback through the snow,almost tasting the warm beanssliding down my throat. Davie's eyes danced upon my return, his tears dried the instant I opened the half frozen door. I quickly assembled a small pyramid of coalin the stove and set themablaze. They glowed like molten steel,as we warmed our hands. Iwarmed our last can of beansand exchanged worried glanceswith Davie.I told Davie to say the prayer,then we ate. The beans were good. Oh,Lord were they good!We chewed each one as if theywere made of gold.I woke with a yawn the next morningand the sun was shining. Davie had risenearlier than Iand he had even done his choreswithout being asked. I told him that I was proud of himand patted him on the backlike daddy used to. Suddenly Davie looked at me funny andhe handed me backthat same Diamond's Potatoes sackI had just emptied the coal from last night. He told me he was cleaning the ashfrom the stove and he found this pileof glass stones.I looked closer...

.
She said that nothing makes the softest pillows--

Illusions get locked behind doors
in the dissolving sand castles,
to narrowly escape on the thin dangling threads of summer starlight.

Atlantis wants to surface and touch her hand--
To feel the warmth that rises to the surface of her olive skin.
As soft as the sea where the wind doesn't blow--

Until each baby blue eye mimics the sky.

She fluffed up her pillow and  she
disappeared.



.

.
Sequestered points of balance,
metal quick to melt down.
Rhythmic explorations
martyr
it's steely style
for melody.

Scraped,
no friction-
sans no science fiction,
because
the whiteness of reality
always winds up
in the light.

Withering apocalyptic
grape clusters
still clinging
fast to the vine as
Bacchus belches
and staggers
away.

Dissimilar similarities
changing continuous like
wild flowers
in the desert.
(One dies, one will rise...)

Life's dependent on
the rain,
allow fluctuation
in your flow of frustration
on your
yellow brick road
of life.









.

.
My passion
              my words--


Form arrows in my veins,
              and aims for my heart--

like origami stones
              tumbling in a river,
honing and moaning.

Suddenly,
their crunchy chrysalis cracks
             to produce
                             the written butterfly.




.

.
I'm one tissue shy of calamity,
next to the last soul in humanity.
I am one ounce of pride short of dignity,
and one mph away from velocity.

I'm in one town, you're intensity,
a Master Charge away from identity.
One aching tendon from flexibility,
and one arc'd degree from the university.

Happiness has lost it's frivolity,
I have narrowed down my availability.
Gumby has lost all elasticity.
Will we live beyond infinity?

I've never crossed the lines between serenity and insanity,
has a poet's moon lost it's sensuality?
I am one drink ahead of sobriety.
The second to last to stand in society.

The unforgivable sin elbows my morality,
your pen sells your individuality.
One jail bar between your vulnerability.
Your down to earth qualities mock your vanity.

My daddy never claimed me through paternity,
I was the last kid standing in the maternity.
And just when I thought this poem was through,
you asked me to spend eternity with you.

.



.
If I had three wishes,
work days would be cut into thirds.
The words to songs remembered
by one billion humming birds.

If I had my way in a true blue world
I would never have to do the dishes.
The whole world would be fed and full,
and I could still wish for three more wishes.

Until the whole world can see
their own Gods' face.
Until then, let's make this world
a better place.

Let us love and fly
our own kites with smiles.
Let us stack all
our problems into piles.

If I were granted three wishes,
if I had my own way.
Both of you'd be alive
sitting with me here today.

.

Set aside time for celestial night-
A million years to name every star,
Time in your eyes make them seem very far-
Preparing your soul for astral flight.
Tantalize your skies with your tailless kite;
While Orion is preparing for war-
And nobody knows just what war is for.
Discovery has been my life's delight!


To gaze into sky that's as black as tar-
Pinpoints -of- light... everywhere that I turn;
And the cage of my chest feels very tight.

You turn the key and you have the power-
Everyone wants to see Jupiter burn.
Ah! It's going to be one hell of a night!












.

.




His dog is in need of water--

the actor's emaciated.
You'd think he's sacrificed blood,
but the gutter is overrated.

His eyes seek out a bargain
in between the brittle brick.
Just like his toes,
they are cracked and froze...

--- this is not a trick.

Sing an ode to your pin cushion veins
and to your pastel eyes--
these wet city streets are full of broken screams
and unspoken alibis.

I've heard your simple prayers, (yes)
I've smelled the spark's sharp steel stench.
I watched the moon slide across the frost
as you slept on the park's bench.

Trade your bread for a piece of sky
with a madman's son or daughter.
(Yes!) This actor may be unstaged---



but his dog is in need of water.







.

. ~I just wanna touch the sky--to grab the stars that dot your eyes.A shooting star's light tends to diminish,but I thought of you todayfor twenty two minutes.~.

Eternity wheezed,displaying its shortness of breath.Orange orbs whizzed in its' originalpath of vision due to a completelack of oxygen.Stirring stars shot rubber bands at each otheracross the universe. TWANG!Comets were slung like spitballs. Black holespainted each others nails whitewhile biting into a crunchy planet like a Dorito.®Salt of the earth was lost in dank darkness.An Mp3 player came crashing through the stratospherewhile playing my favorite song."Sitting in the morning sun,I'll be sitting when the evening comes,watching the ships roll in, and I watch themroll away again".

.
"How long will it be until
the whole world is chokin'?
How long will it take
for us all to fall down?
How long will it take 'til
every heart gets broken.
When the oceans rise,
will everybody drown?"
How many hours
until the final countdown?
How many days
until we're all washed away?
How long has it been
since you walked beside reason?
What would you think
if it started today?
Where are you going to go
to get a blood transfusion?
Where can you go
to replace an eye?
Will your resting place
be water or stone?
Why did you trade
the truth for a lie?

.

There's a light lunar wind
churning in the east.
The iridescent flame--

extinguished by the beast.

Its' cream colored flesh
echoed softly off the sea.
Wave after wavelight--

came rolling back to me.

Sea spray dispersed starlight
diffused softly o'er the sea.
Wave after wavelight--

came rolling back to me.

Roll your white light back to me
in the form of a simple bow,
arched beyond the man on the moon--

to float softly on the sea below.





.

Today I seen my shadow
in a whole new light.
It stood tall and
didn't want to fight.

I couldn't tell if it was smilng,
or if it wore a frown.
I only knew that I needed to know
before this rising sun went down.

Who was this man cast before me?
I felt he needed to belong.
He couldn't talk with his eyes,
or sing it to me in song.

I never did hear
what he was dying to say.
I just shook his hand and
he walked away.

.Just look past these oldtrees, these cold windows;where slow days creep-- like sea turtles among billowy cloudsplaying the apostrophes!Take me back to thelittle green placewhere that small housefelt so alive like skin.Where we smoked our cigarettes and dragged the muddy river. Moments seemed moretender in the bare face of love back when the world was warm. Oh! but that was all once upon a time--when death feared life..

.
When I was Adam's apple--

tender pain shot to the core.
The burden of mass starvation
came knocking on my door.

Looming storms that sighs began,
through my veins the bad blood ran.

I was sanitized and hunted
since my feet hit the ground.
I remember hearing the woman and
that haunting hissing sound.

Why couldn't I be more thankful
and run from misery,
instead of always rearing it's
head and running after me?

We walked into the sunset's light,
scrawled calligraphy of a flood.
Even tried to warn 'ol Noah
about the rising tide of blood.

We shook the tree,
it's fruit's long forgotten.
Twins fight for space inside her womb,
one will turn out rotten.

Looming storms that sighs began,
through my veins the bad blood ran.

When I was Adam's fingers...


.

.Her adjectives were littlemore than colorful trinkets that splashdark light, even on Sunday mornings therewas no rest for the wicked. My earsrejected the multi-colored grotesque barrageof hateful verbiage crammed in therewith every other simple sentence that you couldprobably see long stains left behindlike a fatal battle scar. Her mother was just as evil--I'm surprised my wife even made it to puberty. I supposeshe wanted a carbon copy just in case of an emergency,because she practiced clenching old mens' esophagus' with herice cold eyes; much, much colder than any sea on the moon;Tranquility must have been banned from her cartographers budget.Her words were like old moon rocks she'd hurl at passers bywith her catapult like tongue and even swifter *******. Always aiming at the frontal cortex. Her harsh textured words would kickand claw their way down ravaged ear canals like three ******* catsin an Italian gondola slowly floating down the over saturated streets.It usually irked me beyond comprehension when she would bring outthe sickly sweetened, over ripe verbal ammunition to pry and beg mefor more cigarette money. I'd give her the money with my favorite feined grin which bought me sacred time and to watch her walk away..

.Daylight rolls off sequestered petals of the rose,dewdrops smile with guilt in their teeth.Shoulders of the road bend, aching withasphalt arthritis.A blind dog crossed the autobahn at high noon,kidneys and intestines criss and cross the double yellow line-like skull and cross-bones. Fur knocks down butterfliesas archangels drop a line into the river Styx."Come sail away!", I heard one say as a small fish escapedthe wrath of hook-in-mouth hell. Amen!Goodbye jolly roger. That has to hurt.I've always said,"Peeling paint only looks good to the professionaltrying to make a buck repainting." Honestly.Yet, a bucket full of fragrant flopping fishsits out back of an abortion clinic,( or was that fish?)while only static played on every FM station.The world wasn't prepared forMozart's misery.

.
Your eye's light shines like our moon, her moon...
skipping stones upon the sea--

although we're just dancing between notions in this wild city rain.

How can I hold the soul of a girl while
she's walking little stars on a string?
The night sea crashes as the moon,
at lightspeed; is painting every wave.

Open your celestial door and let me touch you.

Sweeter words have flown,
but these are the only words I've ever known.
I'm so tired of chasing deep shadows
that disappear in the warm morning sun.

Some just wake up and walk out my door,--

It makes my face grow longer as
the world turns me to face my
forty seventh winter wind.








.

.Any remaining embers of summer havetaken to the wind.Fall stones, lovers pinned-The whole world is apprehensiveof winters' chrysalis to crack.Summer returns a grown womanwith a monkey on her back..

-
Shaping molten sin into wrought iron ******.
Rusted rivet's sparks sail down the spiral staircase
and scatters like fireflies on the stone.
Guitars scream as they lead the band to slaughter,
thinking they own the streets like Al Capone.

Molten metallic music with a razors edge
mollifies the faithful like mutton to the ledge.
Mayhem ensues with a sonic boom as
bolts of rock & roll illuminate the room.

We're heading toward a revolution,
we always heard you wanted one.
They bought the lie of evolution,
burnt their skin waiting for the Son.

It's just a heavy metal observation,
you allowed the lyrics to take their toll.
Today we see the damage is done,
the insane have unhinged their soul.

.
How deep will he go
inside his self?
Will he apprehend the poet--

or set him high on the shelf?

When given the chance
he tries and he tries
to release his words
like wild butterflies.

A prisoner in chains,
yet parchment bound.
He's a book full of sonnets--

He's a book come unbound.

He's an unspoken treasure
inside of a book.
He'll come up to play
if you drop him the hook.

When given the key,
my eyes never show it--

because you are the door,
and I am the poet.






.

.I felt a little strangewith binoculars in handon a warmWednesday morning,a mild breezetussling your curtains.I watched you with aschoolboy fascinationas you tookyour clothes offof the clothesline.Oh! the basketful of storiesyou draggedin through your door.Were yougoing out dancing?To the store?Your prettiestdress sparkledin the sun's lightand it made me think.Yeah.That's what Ilike about you--You make methink..

Νεώτερος από χθεςA thousand clouds watch as we lay in the widegreen grass as crickets sing our siesta song.Our eyes dance along with the sails of racing boatsas their hulls slice open the ocean.Here we lay at the edge of the world where sound was born,one wave from a million miles away suddenly washed ashore.Sea spray misted and drifted, falling like snow on our skin.The earth seemed to spin slower today,the power of the sky set the tone for a nice memory.Then we stood headlong against the windfeeling so much younger than yesterday.

.


I'm a slave to your heart--

I'm where i want to be.
Chain me to your soul,
imprison me.

I was captured by your smile,
and held by your gaze---
throw away the key
for forty million days.

Your love became my sea
and I am going down
to wait for your tsunami--

I can't wait to drown.



.