I left my heart in our broken city
deep beneath the dark and crushing sea
In the cold and crumbled streets
where you and I used to run and hide.
We'd stick each other with syringes,
and ****** black eyed waifs
from off the backs of violent giants.
Set them free for a taste of their blood.
We'd listen to Django and Stephanie
on that old Victrola,
while we snacked on chips
and drank pilfered gin
 from the busted Circus of Values.
Because, your tightwad *******
brother, couldn't spare a dime.
I still have that snapshot,
of you with your Tommy gun
mowing down splicers,
a puddle of Eve at your feet.
Where did we go wrong?
Was it in the half-flooded sections,
were we hid from Ryan's rampage,
before he made me smash his skull.
Or was it that last gene tonic we split,
after the reactor went supernova.

Somebody Rapture me, already.
I wasn't made to last anyway, my lovely.
I just wish I could have lived long enough
to see the girls grow up,
under the cerulean and cream sky.
But, all dreams are destined to die,
the fire and freakshow was fun
while the liquor and shotgun shells lasted
The only thing I know for sure,
is that what they call freedom
is just Dystopia waiting to happen.

I would place my hand on your breast
dig my fingers into your flesh
and pull the taint out of your chest.
 But, magic's a gift I don't possess.

True Magic
belongs to greater men than me.
I cannot even conjure a simple cantrip.
If I had a bottle or lamp
I'd rub it for you.
But, I have so few possessions,
and I don't think any of them are magical
If a song could invoke or enchant
I would play all day for you,
but I fear it would be wasted energy.
All I have to give to you is prayer.
and prayer is just surrogate magic,
and it doesn't always work.
But, its better than nothing.
And the truth is, it has worked before.

Everybody adores you
You are worth so much more than a torrent of tears

She will be saved
If I don't mop it up for you

Lick off your sweat
You are the only one who deserves laughter

Every time,
There is utility in donning it for me

Never, Do I wish to forget you
and how you partially appear

No one will ever forget your silence
Losing countless memories of you

You cannot feel hate, death
could sadly stand still

If you would extravagantly appear
Here
                     Here

    Here.

The greatest part of me, is wherever memories of you are stored.
When I hold you against me, all sound dissipates,
overwhelmed by the simple beauty of your breathing.
In time all wounds I bear shall heal, in your care the deepest cut fades.
You have filled the void inside me, and now there is nothing I cannot do.
I have burned my bitterness, and buried the ashes, with your assistance.
I wish I could seal my lips in a locket, so you would never be without my kiss.
Your smooth, soft hands caress me across untold distances.
As rough as I can be, your gentle touch melts the frozen monster inside me.
I know it must show, in the glow of my skin,
the vitality within me, it is your doing.
I awaken in the night, with an aching craving,
and I savor your image, with my mind's eye.
The woman that I love, has finally came to me.
All my strength, I swear upon her beauty.
I have been saved, from abyssmal despair,
embraced in the open air, I now breathe clear,
all because,
I have found the woman I love.

I die, I am mortality

Life will not look at me.

With a world full of pleasure

Life is nothing but illusion.

You laughed at my joy and vigor

You die a different death

I feel nothing

Despair

Death will not cut me a deal

Life is simply a chore

I leave you alive and whole

I laugh a guffaw of anguish

Death seems warm and welcoming.

I am nothing but
pretty words, devoured
and then mocked,
and misunderstood perpetually.
I will never have love.

He is scary, his inner nature subdued
That boy who says yes, and always means it.
He can sway you into thinking his way.
He knows what you want from him
And that's exactly what you'll get from him
He knew the moment you laid your eyes on him longingly.
He can understand anything, given the time.
Every pleasure he can deliver
He can indulge.

Steel still feels cool in this balmy room,
while rain spray spatter paints temporary patterns on the table outside.
The droplet wreathed pines seem eternal.
Sentinels offering shelter
from the wet curtain exposure.
Cloud sprites cavort in the open
reaching under the meager cover,
like the cold wet fingers of a long dead lover, or a drop of regret
from another life...
I'm glad I am warm, here, inside.

I have no alms to give
a yoke is set around my neck
I serve a different master now
I serve my master until death.
I have no coins to share
This poverty is who I am
Now you must learn to love yourself
and I must kneel before the lamb.
You cannot understand
for you still sit upon your mount
and I lie on the ground
too many blessings yet to count.
Remember what I said to you
you're lovely and forever loved
there's nothing more that I can do
I serve a different master now.

If,
In the days to come
The earth should shatter asunder.
I shall practice leaping until I can
Cross the gap and bring my love to you.
If,
The climates of our individual worlds
Should shift, and snowed in
I find myself surviving an arctic wasteland,
I shall dig myself out,
Trudge across vast distances to meet you
Surrounded by frozen lakes.
If,
The sky should open up
In showers of sentient black lightning,
And hound me underground,
I will brave an electrified death
For just a chance to place one final kiss on your lips.
If,
You should need me in the night
Call my number and hang up after five rings,
And I will come and find you,
And wipe away your tears.
If,
I cannot find you in the hazy stupor of twilight
Know that by dawn I shall place my healing touch upon you,
And you will feel my love, as it courses through you
And all the horrors that lie in wait
Will fade away.
If,
You stay in my arms
I shall love you
Until the sun swallows our bones.

When you chain language
With antiquated constraints,
You have missed the point

As you successfully fall
through this sidestreet of joy
my presence brings harm.
  You don't remember my scent?
My caresses as you moved rhythmically
with pleasure under the victory,
beyond your imagination of me
in our Los Angeles.
The death of your old husband.
Breaking your hardships as I care for you.
For knowing I am only sad,
because you cannot see me.

There is more energy encased in this clear bead
that crawls inexorably out of my eye,
than a million, billion universes
of millions of billions of bright burning suns.
I can see the chains of glowing power
split in the prismatic lense,
surging outward, and ******* inward.
Each quivering beam of dazzling radiance
cuts across my blurry field of view,
like a flitting glimpse of a naked nightmare
that lives beneath the skin of the sky.
All these things I have seen reflected
a billion, trillion times
in the shattered crystal shard
created by a single drop,
snagged in the net of interwoven eyelashes,
brought together by a spasm of joy.
As the liquid prism dangles,
an eye-sickle, drawn downward,
it explodes in a saline cascade,
and in the moment before the droplets reach my lips
I see the face of God, reflected in the surface of my tears.

You can dwell in the light
Thoughts of floating, and my body
Someone knows the joys of your body.
Not just the devil alone.

Fleeting light flashes outward from you
Receding from your body.
The anger that simmers.
Everyone can win.
For there shall be peace in the temple of your fragments.
The devils darkness, does not shine.

Your face
Walks in the shadows of my mind.
Forever it dwells.
Bringing light and joy, as It passes
through the dark passages .
Here in the light of the day.
A great darkness disappears .
From out of the darkness you now stand firm in the light
OF our paradise.
As the devils vast void recedes.
The silk sheets enfold.

In the shallow light of the dawn.
I think of you there
Like a pagan to the old ways, I cling to you.
In the brilliance of our climaxes.
We shall dwell.
No devil shall tread there.
In our certainty,
We know it is true.

I will corrupt you with my pleasure
Let the laughter trickle over your body
coated with joy like the valley earth
in Autumn give back the mourners cloak  
like a single wave leaves the crest of sunken gold
and becomes a shell and glittering stone strewn shore
Corrupted, like cheap ****** is naughty
I will take you in my corruption, for the first time

What is it
that you have convinced yourself
that I have,
that you need so ****** deeply.
I have nothing worth tears,
nothing to give
worth a single sigh.
Nothing
that cannot be found
on the bargain rack,
three for five.
I am not a life preserver
crafted of verse.
I am not a panacea
distilled from words.
I am a fleeting shadow
easily snuffed by a sunbeam.
I am a songbird
frozen, and dying
on a cracked tree branch.
I am worth less
than the sum of my parts.
A bag of organs,
valuable only to the sick and rich.
Rothschild might want my heart,
but it is not as deep a vessel
as you make it out to be.
You can do so much better,
than pathetic old me.

A man who is hungry
is incapable of stealing bread.
Theft is a sin of desire.
The bread does not belong to the baker,     the sunlight and soil, and the water
that nourished the wheat
belong to God alone.
If the baker is not hungry
then he does not need the bread.
But the hungry man takes to fulfill need.
The bread is not stolen,
but provided by God, to fufill our needs.
Their is no sin
where there is need fulfilled.
It is only poverty of faith
that brought him to his hunger.
And poverty of faith is not a sin,
but a most high blessing.

Lament our random tuesday
– I can't see today the sunny day
of our last spring leaves again
in a treeless pathless meadow
that spring day of silver tounges tarnished.

Dessicated earth is seeping in the blue glass,
the dry cracked plain rising above the sun,
the suns clarity as it is in reality,
and where we have been – I will always remember.

There are no oasis' on my equator.
The Wendigo subdued with pale skill.....
Whose corpse can fail to compare with my soul,
if despair and courage aren't in my heart! -

And if your scent, a mundane beast,
tears at my knees everyday,
and the suns dull golden light,
chilled by a slow approaching wave
for all of our words?

Smash all the lanterns
burn all the books
Pawn all the keepsakes
cut up all the paintings
Rip up all the ribbons
chop down the kissing tree
Bury all the skeletons
knock down the cottage

Leave nothing behind
when you turn your back
and wipe the dust from your feet.

You aren't here,
What I climbed back together for,
How you sang away the buzzing in my ears
Who I would give everything just to die for,
Where I had nothing left to gain
You aren't here.

the response was
You aren't here.

galaxies glide smooth
there is light everywhere now,
stars forever shine.

Her eyes cut like honesty.
She destroys certainty
like the contact of unknown lips-
Forbiding me
A desired amuse bouche,
and I couldn't hear her decline your megaton of yesterday's drudge.
"How do I suffer you?" "Go off, do your hedonist."

Truth is a bitter transmitter.
It always smells of curling cinders,
that I have inhaled deeply
Either unlike indifference
that I've guiltlessly-danced out of denial.

I'll know who's true to me.
With audacity you admit everything.
Your audacity, I pull generous hands forward and hear , "Yes."
Audacity that I grant access to shared thoughts.
Audacity I.

Honesty can be shrouded in midnight
or as rebellious as a pimple on your nose.
There is nothing to be gained from insults
(Or Cruelty)
Discovered before caresses and thefts.
Without who I agree, some of the terrible places
are left unused charities
Either debt. As if loneliness is not a department store.
I know where I went right
She destroyed random targets,
unmasking her borrowed glorious virtue
And after you hear the burst of her AR,
she'll feel the measure of her worth.

It's all my fault.
A locked window was your denial
So I crawled through the basement window
It wasn't an honest defense.

Let me buy you the wine list.
let her obey.

"A little nonsense now and then
is relished by the wisest men"

Does anyone still play guilty pleasures?

OKAY!

1. Troll 2 lady.
Too. Fun in Balloonland Narrator lady.
3. "Any" drum majorette.

"Speak roughly to your little boy
and beat him when he sneezes
he only does this to annoy
because he knows it teases."

Fore! Nance Peterlini, shouting obscenities.

"Silk, do you know an atomic trigger from a Balgarian *****? Because I sure don't."

5. Slingshot and P.J. in a swampside threeway.(only halfway guilty...three-quarters?)

"A ****** talking baby alligator, that's purple, and has really big jaws?"

Sicks. Honor and Glory...after Honor gets a nose job.

"Harlem is the experience playground for all people interested in becoming detectives."

7. Wanda Duvalle...*******...in a shack.
Ate. Lynn, from The Dark Power.
Nine. Colonel Hogan's...Secretary(?)

"I want to stop dreaming about fire from heaven, and melting men. Lasers."

10. Ming the Mercilesses' Daughter.

Never again
in the swirling maelstrom
will we dance together.
Your firey eyes
cut to the bone,
and in the flicker of a dying fire
I can barely see
that I am once again alone.
I once compared you to a fallen angel,
all glowing sword, and a fist
shaking in defiance of the heavens.
But, the horror, the horror of this sorrow
is a razored rain, falling in torrents.
I cannot ever touch you again.
I would rather drown,
in the blood, shed by this shower,
than to never again waver
in ecstasy, beneath the thrumming genius
of your potent power.
Oh, but sorrow, bitter sorrow,
I shall never again dance with you
in the swirling maelstrom.
Forgive me, lovely creature,
I knew not what I had done.

Into the bubbling blue bath of my bliss
my body breaks free of all bounds;
enchanted melodies cavort across my tongue,
unchained continents of merriment.
Shooting stars; cool satisfaction coats me completely.
I have lost all curiosity for torture technique,
while this melody bounces across the cosmos.
My imperfect lovely: Perfectly fractured,
all my shattered pieces fit your holes,
and even now, I glue pieces of you into the slots they fit.

A singular petal glistening with dew,
Deep crimsom; long stemmed tulip.
Black eyes, its stamen. Shedded insight,
I lowered my body before you, as offering.
How will you devour this dream of desire?
It is a feast to be consumed, in small bites,
and copious servings of seconds.
Do not allow this flower to fade,
it may save you from yourself.

Blessings bestowed before bedtime
often fade away by dawn,
give thanks for the present,
draw strength from the past,
take heart, what is meant to be
will always last...
in the end.

Why do they think, such weak thoughts,
Of incomplete carelessness, and tainted fidelity.
We must remove, unjust fears,
Abolish shame, and kiss away pained tears.

Until the end, it will feel great,
This almost proves the existence of  fate.
Without frowns, we finally feel love
We are welcomed even
By the tiny demons below.

They help make the pleasure last,
You and I know it, and accept it.
Telling secrets, to each other,
Killing lies, for each another.

We caress each other, with acceptance,
Never do we wonder, how we feel
The chill air, that is to come,
Finally arrives, right outside the window..

Togetherness diminishes, the one break,
But, I think we are, akin of spirit.
The line that never breaks,
Has been there since the beginning.

White rain streaks across the black rocks,
A soft palm wipes the hair from out of your eyes;
Red light immolates the room,
We are fun house mirror reflections of each other.
Unlikely, but undoubtedly, compatible.
The weight is released, and I place the laurel of muse, upon your head.
Driven like shadows, across the surface of the day,
We move in tandem with the light, but are not of it.
But, the warm caress of your affection,
It is a light, in and of itself.
The morning breeze is laughing
in your eyes I see a field of shattered suns,
Bursting forth in their brilliance.
The maddening illusion of calm is broken,
By the raging fever laboring inside me.
Engulfing my will, and burning my resistance to the ground,
Until every canvas that I capture, and claim in your name,
Bears an Image of you, and me just the same.

You are dwelling under an illusion
of what love is, forevermore.
It has not left, it stayed,
it is healing the wounded
It is.
Some people are meant to be together forever,
Regardless of what your poems say.
Don't be another victim
Of the burned bridge of scorn.
Don't **** that which wants to love you.
Listen to the eternal lullaby.
Love never dies,
It just hides sometimes.

Help Yourself!
Examine the lumber yard
squatting in YOUR eyes.
Take your srf books,
and burn them for warmth,
because this is all they are worth.
Do you know the words I share
with the spirit, in the dark hours?
Do YOU presume to know
what the most high condemns,
what is required by Our Father?

Now is the winter of my bitter content, for yet I lack,
and what is necessary is near,
but Not Present.
Your fumbling armloads
of Books, books, books
will not ***** my fire.
What logic could ever convince you
that this could ever be so.
You assume...
Let that sink in.
You assume
you have carte blanche to condemn, and your digital life preserver
is even going to work.
All that will work
is yet to be.

Soon is the spring
of my boundless bliss.
Who I need, will be found.
Until then, help yourself,
and stop ripping off the bandages
I wrap around myself,
to keep me
from grabbing a cheap date,
when what I have coming is a mate.

He makes concessions
where we are weak.
And demands
where we are strong.

A fire that might spread beyond
and devour the grasslands,
far away from the hearth
where it belongs,
must be tended,
and fed,
inferior wood...
until the proper bundle arrives.

Save your self help books.
They are not the fuel
that this fire requires.
I have all the help I need
it dwells inside me,
and it understands
what you are incapable
of comprehending

Never trust a man
with clean, and baby smooth hands
unless he is a corpse.

To me you were
An imperfect body
essence undefined
chameleon like
When sticks were caught ever so gently
You blossomed for me

Complete and whole
Forever unchanging
a timeless natural growth
Partially mine
Not quite what I needed
But exactly what I wanted

You are to me
More than a thousand words
Many separate pieces
Fluctuating
Unavailable
All I lack

The center repaired
To one home
Snow or gloom
In your palm
Taken left under your mind
After I keep my pants the same

To me you will never be
a dangerous reality
To flaunt and laugh at
Whisper in
Repair archways and caress diamonds
After I lay lower

Sinking to whole creations
Coated in water
I crawl towards you
Parched
Unable to listen to the home
Coming to you to receive

I gift to you
You are everything

Multiple times every place. I dot your spirit.
Gradually my tactile sensation increases on you.

Multiple times every place. I am the bottom of your essence.
Gradually I become a certainty of today.

Hate can gradually dissipate.
This is always right.
My mind has no say. My spirit reads it.

One has found that normal multitude of happiness...
Never to hate and despise . Except "good hate" is limitless...
And that is what should never come between us, Multiple times every place.

But my imprint will never fade. It's lifted from your essence. It is pleasure, that will be your student.

In a dream I walked
 through a small town in winter,
snow was drifted all around,
building after building was dark,
 empty window shops, abandoned.
At the heart of a naked strip mall
there was a tiny boutique,
Chinatown style.
Cheap throw away electronics,
plywood guitars, plastic purses
fast-food clothing,
and wall to wall glass cases.
It strikes me now, it was not a shop
but a museum, filled with relics
of the oh-too-recent past.
Homemade cassette mix tapes,
with pink bedazzled stars,
and neat hand written script,
zip disk encylopedias,
mildewed black moleskines,
and much more, the mind
it could not take it all in.

I was wrenched from this museum,
back into the waking world
by a full bladder, and a cold crown.
I slipped on a cap, but I hold it in,
desperately I try to convey
 the frozen tragedy I have witnessed,
with moist unblinking mind's eyes.
The shadowy windswept streets,
the random half broken neon signs,
the peeling sky blue painted storefront,
and the tiny boutique, a dream place,
that could only ever afford
to pay the rent
in the depths of my subconscious.

It strikes me, that I am blessed
to be a tail-end-member,
of Generation X, the last generation
that can remember the corpse
before it died, to have watched it die.
To have lived through this death,
to have watched the desiccation
and to have seen the dead body
***** by heartless robots,
to give birth to a Mummy Earth,
a world without a soul.

Soon I will be forced to go downstairs
and relieve myself,
on the ground outside
For now, I lie on my side,
thumb typing, shoulder aching,
 from supporting my weight,
sore eyes assaulted
by the too-bright-white screen.
I lie here, trying to capture it;
 the feeling of strangled despair.
Not for myself, but for the children
who have inherited a dead cyborg,
devoid of its humanity.
A corpse culture, with perfect teeth,
glistening hair, fair skin,
cloudy eyes, and the faint stench
of moldy leather and spoiled spices.

They do not know what it is like
to feel, to have beauty ripped
from their desperate dream hands,
like children dragged away
from their arrested mother.
They inhabit a foster home
for the spiritually bankrupt,
the true tragedy is
they don't know any better.

Another year furls its petals, bedecking the world in orange and red and yellow.

The fresh apples picked and pressed,
the cider scent wafts up,
spectral cinnamon scents this season.

It is futile to delay summers parting,
Even now the kisses at dawn are cooler
The rays less direct the days growing shorter.

But it is a time of sustenance,
Gathered in labors, sustaining stores.
This season of togetherness,
Distinct flavors of allspice and nutmeg,
Pumpkin and sweet potato.
Feast and celebration.

As the living world recedes into the long sleep
I try to forget the hardships endured,
And dwell in the replay of your masterpiece day.
I compared you to various poets,
You laughed demurely,
I did not know how amazing, and precious
You were back then,
Green shoots still grew in my garden.
As autumn approaches absolute dominance
I think of the spring I fell deeply in love with you,
Your charms rained down on everything you touched
And then the sky cracked, and we fled together,
But the diligent one,
The one who knows treachery as the interior of her eyelid
Is tattooed with every manner of trickery,
She is magnificent in her cruelty,
A beautiful creature in her own right,
But a miserable wretch compared to you.
She wanted me, and she ripped me from your hands,
Like when she will rip you from my hands,
And so on until she has what she really wants.
You do not deserve such things.
You deserve more than this universe can provide,
Yet you ask, oh so much less.
Knowing that you will leave me
Is the falling of bright colored leaves.
Five shades of red, three shades of orange,
Mixed and blended yellows,
Exquisite multicolored rain.
My autumn has arrived.

My essence has been purified
by chance, I must ask you,
How you are like this,
How can you do so much for me.

You're the reason I have been lifted from the pit,
and why my whole world, has turned to paradise,

I have no need for wishes,
The treasures of far flung kingdoms lie in my lap.

I already cast my spell,
And conjured the greatest spirit of love.
Amazement seeps from your fingers
And your counter spell
Holds me firmly,
I could resist the event horizon
Of a black hole,
Far greater is your gravity.

You are superior to any magic.
To thrive in laughter,
To give birth to mirth
To feel sheltered in affection,
Is to be loved by you.

Your name it does not matter to me,
I know you only as..
My Heaven.

My little dead sisters,
the wind thrashes about me
and scatters your sun faded ribbons.
A Love In Tokyo
dangles from a tree branch.
Pretty pastel drawings,
and giggle written post it notes,
pasted all over everything.

What is the value of laughter,
how can a memory be sold
for a moment of peace
that sneaks off, when you aren't looking,
and leaves behind
the melancholy remains
of all my little dead sisters.

My Mistress' Eyes Are Everything Beneath The Moon;
The crimsom of her lip is as the shade of blood;
If coal is black, why then her thighs are cream;
If skin be burlap, white silk is her body.
You have never seen masked daisys, black and blue
But she creates blooming poppies on my cheeks,
And no perfume upon the earth compares to her scent
The exhalation of my mistress is as jasmine and honeysuckle.
I hate when she is silent, yet well she thinks,
All other sound is dissonant compared to her voice.
A godess I first saw, as she passed me;
My mistress levitates and glides across the air.
    All the horrors of hell, are fine, if her memory remains in my mind.
Her magnificence is selfevident, with words beyond compare.

You,
Lone being
Of enduring kindness,
Your tiny hand touching me tenderly,
Even in the bleakest times.
Dragging me out of the darkness
Even as I continually crawled toward it.
The tortures inflicted,
both blindly and unintentionally
And with premeditation and surety
Should surely not have befallen one so gorgeous of spirit.
It seems now you have lost your faith in me,
As I have failed to fulfill a slew of promises.
But, you do not understand where I stand,
How my hands are shackled
Fettered to the spot,
When we dwelled together
Hell rained down until our hearts were parted.
I do not wish for the intensity of my vile
To drizzle and stain, and burn and brand you.
You are far too precious to me to allow the chance of that.
But, seeing you burn my page from your diary,
Finally and emphatically denouncing me,
I am torn down like a *****, ******.
I love you with devout intensity,
And watching you suffer at our separation
It equalled the potential pain of my tint tainting you.
So what am I to do now, kind one?
My smile only masks the agony so long.
Sweet one, whose kiss lasted longest,
Which sadly meant, there were fewer of them.
The clever saboteur will always sabotage us.
The angry cannoneer will always barrage us.
I don't want you to endure such things.
But NEVER stop believing I Love you!
Whatever you see occur,
Never forget this.

A warm flush rushes through my skin,
As thoughts of you begin forming,
Like fantastic crystals, composed of my love for you.
You caress me in my mind,
And I kiss your lips in yours.
I think of this summer, that is soon to end,
And I know that it is you
That made this summer shine, like Pharos in Alexandria,
Casting the penetrating illumination of your spirit
Over all things. Painting the canvas of my memory
In images of your charm and artistry.
Forever found, I am yours
Nothing short of oblivion can pull us apart.
Green shoots emerge from the moist earth,
Wherever you step.
Blooming into blended bouquets of fragrant herbs.
If I could look away from your gaze,
I would see, that where there once was a bog of darkness and decay
Slowly encroaching on the meadows of my joy,
There is now a rolling sea of sparkling wildflowers,
Where gossamer winged butterflies, twirl on gentle winds,
Mating gracefully in the air.
Everything that was wrong, has changed,
You chose to stay with me, and so doing you saved me.
Until the end of time
You remain a part of my all,
And so you shall stay,
Till the end of my days,
Never shall we part,
In this life or the next.

One happy smile.
Many innocent workers.
Hey, down in front, I love you.

So little joy isn't being swallowed occasionally,
You can leave down without the questions about the contentment,
bother the contentment. Radiance drags through outside the calm.
Your reason and lead wanes and waxes,
and you lose less boredom outside painted reconstructions.
You have no hope that all of this lacks reason.

I want to paint this on your skin,
what prevents your spirit from trembling.
What makes your flavor fluctuate,
Is there something special I can serve you.

I came to you on two firm legs,
smoothed the covers, and lifted you from that bed.
You came with full breaths
Palefire, and unblended acceptance.

My frown will not speak of you,
but your pride steals the covers.
With a hurricane in your chest
, and a sadness that rips me to death.
I just realized my folly, five seconds after
Touching my finger to a false heart.
Took your polished please, without giving a thank you.

Brilliant resplendence of your redolent virtue.
Arms clenched, a wool sweater, bitter.
Leisurely cassette tapes, guide down to the truth.
The airy pleasures I have grasped at the heights
Match not the singular joy, in the cup of coffee in the garden
Of shredded roses, and bone carvings.
Favoritism, lies in the past, and it won't change.
What has been done, trumps what shall be done.
You won already. All I ask, is you guide me.

My hands and wrists, like leaders,
Gently wrapped around your skull,
So I can cradle that delicately invincible brain,
Mending skin and hair with perfection.
And this? This I will carve into the table that you took away
from loving me.
My love for you mirrors your footprints, into the infinity of oblivion.

.

You wan't to survive a peace...You gotta become peace.

You are all I feel,
You parade through my thoughts.
Such wonders I've found, in the gallery of you.
A dedication of a thousand candles,
Lit before an effigy of your intellect.
I have parted the clouds with your memory,
And found the sun
Does not bear a fraction of your radiance.
All the light that has been since the beginning
Pales in comparison to a single drop of your beauty.
Moving through my life, as a rolling symphony,
A song of love, you are the music of my dreams.
Please, let us continue down this road together.
You can feel my words before I speak them.
With you, I can be speechless, and still be heard.
Let me place these lips upon your hand,
Seal my fealty, with this kiss, so you understand,
It is your symbol emblazoned on my breastplate,
For I am in service to you, I am your Knight errant,
And each time I return from my journey,
All the spoils I have claimed, I place before you,
So that while I am gone, you shall dwell in the luxury of my memory,
Of you.

Oh, how I wish you were not there
drowning down in that shallow puddle,
where you rub noses with the mad dogs
who have lost their canine teeth,
and bump heads with the brainless cattle.
I wish that you and I could fly
away to some little lost island,
or take a road trip to Seattle.
But, we burned the last bridge to the past,
and now we must swim down the river of time
alone, in opposite directions.
Keep your head above the water baby,
and ignore the shark staring at you
with those hollow heartless eyes,
that's only your reflection.
We'll meet again someday,
when the sun swallows the earth, maybe.
Then we can be free as one,
instead of enslaved separately.
The truth is,
freedom only feels half as pure
as that rusty old fetter, we wore together.
But, its not the kind of suit you can put back on the rack.
When you break free of the shackle,
you have to wear freedom forever.
And a shout over your shoulder is all you can spare,
when you climb up out of that stagnant pool
and once again breath deeply, in the open air.
Oh, how I wish you were not there.

On a day like this,
when the spirit is energized,
pleasant remembrances rise up.
Awaken with a benevolent air
sent to restore your body.

The future we chase
Is wide open to us.
I will help you carry your burdens
my courage shall be yours to share
the courage to let someone in.
to end the malady, to end the pain
there has been more than enough.
Close the door to your agonies.
Follow the melody, into the light.
It streams in everywhere
the bluest of blues
the entirety of your being
cooled
the waters of serenity cascade
the liquid air soothes your
overheated emotions
the fulfilment of nature
feeding the lambs
praising the lions.

We feel the rising sun
it smothers the worst in us
dusk shall not darken joy
it is the genesis of rebirth.

the black clouds evaporate

Exorcising
cleansing
reviving the happiness that withered

Light mates with the shadows
They rise from the abyss.

Miracles of healing and bliss,
are possible,
On a day like this.

One,
Who with her words,
Has shattered and torn
And bound and repaired,
Should never be so sad
As to believe that silence is the same
As condemnation.
How can one forget
The passionate howl,
And the most tender caress.
In anger she struck
In the night of grim declarations.
Of lamps ever lit
For eyes and song and bravado and daggers.
She knew not until the dawn
That in every work, of the infantile days
Was a fragment of labor, dedicated,
To the lustre of her abyss dark eyes alone.
Eyes, which have shone in the darkest day.
Eyes, which have darkened an evening of flickering flames.
One,
Who's voice, though dissonant to ears this cold
Nevertheless, has sung the sweetest strain,
And etched southern flowers upon the brain.
One,
Such as her,
Shall always remain,
In the core of who I am
I will remember your name.

Do not leave me, not me
Sweet one with the ecstasy
Sweet one with pleasure emanating from your body
Stand fast, don't depart
Under my calm, as it seeps from my palms.
Draped gently like a necklace
Hold your breathe, close your eyes
Return to where you belong, stay
I've only just begun drinking my tea
Stand there and let me feel your satisfaction
You'll shake your head, unaware of my pleasure
Your hand upon my jaw
Thrown down breathless
Lost in your touch
You hold right here.
Do not leave me, come lie with me
You keep me from going cold, I will have another sip?
Of course I will
I'd like to retain the taste in my mouth
Infinitely comforted
You are my eyes to me
How many days until you will no longer do this
I remember your replies.
You could never count all the grains of  bliss in the desert of my laughter
Do not leave me, and wander afar
Your dedication lends me courage
You provide me continued comfort
Let me be the unexpected rain shower
Cascading down upon your wilting desert flowers
It would be such great tribulation, if you left me
Not me, with such pleasure
I have just begun, my eyes are yours
Lie with me, for another cup of coffee.

My joy, myself, it is vibrant
as the wildest waters and winds;
I will dance like an energized man,
And laugh away death's carelessness
Which you have never borne, will not until the end,
To life I awaken to the sure gift, that is you,
Do you hear the cool waters flowing?
Your warm hand on my cheek, I feel the torrid air.
Breathless, beneath your living spirit's endless variety.

Eloquent, confident, graceful.
Oh, my ugly other, you aren't ugly at all.
Arms held high, ears perked up with pride.
Listen to me. I forget you never you.
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
How little medicine didn't give to cure your forgetfulness?
How little? You verdant, gorgeous floura.
How few sheep told me they were peasants?
How few? You cool and collected, delicacy of a songbird.
Didn't I honestly deny not an image of it?
I forget none of you, yourself.
Genius. Genius. Genius.
Never crawl away from the blank wall, you are beautiful.