Increase The Pace (Side A)

Rhythmic pulsations invade comatose receptors
Lingering in the thick summer smog
The onset of tribulation commences-
Increase the pace.

Reverb ripples through
Hot wet lungs,
Love and Hate
The beats resonate...

Scared vinyl skips:
Repeating visions of angst,
Violent red chords
Rolling off shredded steel strings,
Acting as mania’s fingers…

Feet trapped in rebel rubber soles
Draw on littered concrete floors
Lonely like before
Noble souls abandoned this
Scene of raunchy rust,
gravity grabbing
as our wrists touch.

Increase The Pace (Side B)

Rush to Eden-
Greeted by harsh halogen
Bleach, eating out your sinuses,
water swirls as it slithers
round the basin
heavy door mutes the static,
holding back waves of thick smoke.
Blood shot eyes soothed
By branded potions,
Clarity cleanses
Dismembered demons

Crazed revelations infect the night no more
Forced silence seeps into aching eardrums
Breath forced from lungs
Adolescent epiphanies
Swirls down the drain,
Flying around chrome chains
Dust worn as protection
Drips into the sewers,
Flushed away
Forced silence reigns true
Voice of the bass-line
Forgotten anew.

She looked up to the towering evergreen and wondered if the paradoxical romance was yet to begin again. She hadn't given up, was it the rolling synapses that captured her heart or the lonely thoughts? And would she ever know? Was she meant to? Scouring her brain for the reckoning, imaging his cynical gaze meeting her own,that sudden illumination it dawned, and capturing smile that followed. Retrospective Love uncertain. Only one truth lingered: his brain was the one she craved another chance to explore. A sleepy afternoon to lead him down the rabbit hole once more. A Crow materialized in the branches of the lush tower above.Would it become a ******?

hopelessly turning for lack of a shackle
hopelessly churning in need of a bridal

ride forth , they must
awake they lie,
studying the twinkling sky
forever returning-
what will happen if I cry out
into the dark blue slumber?

hopelessly yearning
for metamorphosis they pray
a maggot into a butterfly
miracles at bay

unfurling banners
birth horns of gold
moldy plums,
They bake in the sun

awaiting their fate
never again to see what’s scripted in slate

before you see sparks
born out of riveting hues
burst forward brightly

humbly walk into
the darkness anew to see
what lies against truth.

To fly or not to fly, that is my burden
For who can run my mile or test my trail
Here draws my grief, true cries so clearly sudden
Will I lift myself on crows wings? Vile.
Nay, my soles must prove their purpose their self
Sand slithers through glass domes leaving traces
My dusty bootstraps be taken off shelf
A timely sojourn to the waves that call
Love awaits me in caved lemon groves
Salty waters I must wander to fall
Into your arms to live once again in that trove
Feet must carry me for new wings to soar
Trust makes them mine, your tired eyes glisten
Dragon’s scales and tales of forgotten lore
Float above your strong shoulders, I listen
For the sound of smoke rings breaking away
From your lips as you loft those wings so high
Fear eludes me, as wind frightens the day
I bask in their shadow, as they do try
To bear the weight of my draining presence
Reaching up to feel your reptiled jaw
Nose fills with namesake blood incense
A monster they cry: breaking natural law
Four taloned feet make mine seem so small
My lovely creature, I see your true beauty
Gems call to me, so into your nest I crawl
Feeling safe, your cave a new home for me
The wings I own are so fragile and weak
Lift me farther from the seventh circle
Take me with you to the highest of peaks
Strap me onto your back with gold buckles
I beg you to fly me away and save
Me from this horribly lucid dank fate
Steal my body from this forgotten grave
Wait til night time seeps through the sky, though late,
On your wings pull me to the stars above
Take me with you on the grandest of flights
Let me show you tales of true life and love
Take me with you to a place of great heights

always looking out
never looking in
availing me so,
I musn’t begin

broad smile,
not a tear to be shed
Your Mind
ever seemingly fed

what can I do?
to Force your eyes wide,
noticing the importance to see
not just for me

Jaw rusted shut
implications shading absolution
should tongue’s shackle break,

awaiting The Remark
to paint you a fool,
availing prophecy
those words drone true

heart strings ache
foreseeing
our cubbies tumble and quake

pitted muttering rings again
Consciousness lurks in The Fog
existence:
concerning not,
Purpose, a fleeting thought

a lighthouse I am,
through vessels never follow
their bellies shockingly hollow

To Fry
our alabaster shells:
Crippled,
by mankind’s burden
a miniature sun
nestled in a basin.

Charlie Hebdo
4 AM Paris: 12 shot
Point Blank
In the name of Allah
On a magazine formerly known as
“Dumb and Nasty”
Satirical in Costume
The Jest targeted
in a kingless court

When pawns draw arms
of their own command
When a book Commands

The Words do not wrinkle
as faces age:
That should cause the end of days,

Seeking a question already answered
they ran amuck in their own shadow
then sparked themselves aflame

When a match caught ether
in the land of pretty visitors
their synthetic chrysalis is set ablaze
That, then, will be the end of days.

trembling in the dark
crazed and alone
shouldn’t I pick up the phone?

But I can’t, ‘cause I won’t
I don’t need a helping hand

I’ll just stay here
forever canned
out of sight, out of mind
with that Jar of Pickled Beats

how did they get here?
how long have they sat?
perched in the dark,

on the very top corner of the very top shelf
I will stay hidden
by myself

I saw more and more of you
Creeping into my blossomed being
If only it were
resurrection

when tears stain the threads of
of your childhood blanket
when the promise dies
and withering hyde binds you

when  your lifeline  snaps
and you run away
when you can't hide the pain

when its flowing through your veins
like ice melting off an arctic cage
trapped for ages you lay
in the ditch by the road back
from the inferno

when you resolve to ashes
then the fates draw your matches
when the wind blows them through
and  nothing is left to cradle a flame-

when there isn't a scrap left to mend
and you are buried in your own skin
when all that's left is night

what's been lost  cries out of sight.