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Styles 12 Aug 2020
If it's not sizzling
you took it out too soon

cheese must
dissolve into
your taste buds

root bound for leather.

Imagination stopped him in his tracks
decided to write her letters he never sent

why bother another locked door?
It froze him like Hans Solo trapped in carbonite.

Her hands are
already up if you decide to shoot
her foxy eyes said to them,

I saw myself glow deathless one day five years ago. She still cannot contact the local papers.

Imagination made her hands react by throwing all her law books out her three story Life Window

She cut out early
broke rank and predictions

her wild burst for adventure
followed a pathless trail
tracking down Emerald Falls
on stunning summit view

We saw everything turn brighter there.
She wears Forest Eyes at all times in her cleaner vision for everyone.

Is this entire lush range our playground?

Process that one.
Get reborn.

Pick me up if my spine is dragging truck wrecks on coral reef tarmac.

I appreciate you.

Music drifted out a stranger's window
after I picked myself back up
I limped into perfect no drama hideouts
regardless of your shapeless face
I consider you my best friend.

Bucking 10, 000 bales of hay
is a training manuel for life:
a) never give up
b) believe
c) be stronger
d) be better
e) all of the above

The Mountain Lion living in his garden
licked his face that morning

shape shift into robin
glide up
to touch his favorite Indigo

her flawless smile
roped around the Milky Way
we both fell harder than unpredictable comets

she snaked through our skin
like the starry way lived inside us

decided to win us over
no better choice than to ride it like a motorcycle rider trying to reach love on 3 a.m. back roads drunk on vines

always following the river
even if she rejected him

his letter burned right through his brand new black pocket of August Leather

the speedometer
on fire,

  Feb 2020 Styles 12
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
  Oct 2019 Styles 12
there are women who love demons
you can see it in their eyes
like a sick hunger
silence in a straight jacket
smiling limbs on a pyre
staring entranced
whiskey blind
as if marveling
at a howling blood-spattered dingo in a crater
seduced to wander off half-naked into a bush of thorns
******* barbed hooks for heroine kisses
women on fire who believe in nothing
except their atavistic compulsions

they are a burning land
beauty in ruin
ready for the slender whip
and black-toothed kisses
who giggle and then plunge into an abyss

i hold her like a jaw holds teeth
Styles 12 Oct 2019
She may look at you in mid sip from her morning coffee.

A sparkling city of Emerald stained in her eyes, she scrolls over you as if browsing library books.

A pulse of fantasy seeking distractions to direct her own noisy traffic jam mind.

Her slender fingers gripping you in urgency. Words you can't stop reading smacking under sheets eventually lie carelessly twisted on floor.

Her sensual looks flying through pages.

Autumn breeze blowing through bedroom window.

White excited curtains rising up like a ghost leaving the body.

Intense concentration. Deep moans. Light awes. Luscious surprises hiding in unexpected corners.

A gentle folk band gone ******* metal. There is throbbing and thrashing, tearing and smashing.

Midnight blue pulsing between reader and writer. Secret lovers meeting somewhere in foggy distance waiting one clear breeze to lift them both up from long brooding silences.

Silence. Bare. Bright. Thick enough to break or free you. Swift voice riding in between dream and awake.

Hold steady. Shake. Find its channel before it vanishes between slippery blinks. Mysterious as deja Vu before meeting someone you dreamed of ten years prior.

Words cut like an ice storm. Dreamy mountains glitter. Both our eyes transfixed on the same mingled breath listening for truth to clear away brutal traffic.

Seeking peace in total madness.

The deeper the break the greater the bliss.

Make room for us there.

We started innocent and fragile, returned stunned and ravaged
holding onto family barbarians as if their axes were our own.

Stare into her cup.

Lakeside birds darting from tree branches leaving you hungry to sing something brutal and fragile.

Close your eyes.
Disappear like ripples on the calm surface of her face. Clean thoughts jet ski under vast indigo sky.

Nothing matters.
Everything matters.
All is matter.

One stare above her coffee cup sip leading up to the library of treasure.
Stories stockpiling up. Words rose like thirsty dreams from somewhere else we can't explain.

Whispers interlaced with curtains, snowflakes melted into coarse fabric. A lamb stares out like a fierce lion catches iron maiden in its teeth, rips it apart.

A deep desire to remember Love's undying fire, crackling flame possessed on oak timber.

Let it be me discovering you as if my pen knows every spontaneous word written on your secret page.

She is just a phantom skulking through treachery hoping to be found in your tossed up mind.

Manifest her dripping misty mountains. Let it tenderly stroll ancient forest branches.

She is a white moon lit up in chrome fractals.

Look up from the last page of her betraying kiss. Fully complete.

Study a desert voice carrying spring water. Drink it. How do you feel?

Icy brilliance mingled in midnight blue. All the cracked edges stocked with luminescent sky. Smile. Cry. Scream.

Stare into her distant eyes.
We are Home again.
Styles 12 Jul 2019
Learning how to talk without words
head **** the brick wall of the world.

Expect laughter.

Everything inbetween.

Notice the unknown face smiling behind every flower.

Prepare for War and be at peace with it.
Expect death at any moment.

Hurl the future loss into the waiting room.
Read the Haiku Master.

Be patient.
Practise how to function in hell while just leaving heaven.


This is awkard.
Look at all this damage.

Head held in both hands.
Sorrow deeper than oceans.

Look past shadows.
Study LIGHT.

Don't tell anyone you have a secret diploma in the haunted land of Darkness.

Remember how to use the eraser.
Blank page.

Start over.

Scribble down notes.
Meditate. Yoga.

Transform mountain sides.
Eat solitude.

Break down.

Rise up.
Drink enormous cups of fire.

Get blinded.
Reclaim soft halo hung careless on Lucifer horn.

Notice glacier eyes smoke.

The indifference seems impossible even to Antarctica.

Don't let icy silence freeze you in middle of The Bering Sea.

Write home telepathically.
Ask for help.

Burn after reading.

Smash self entitled notions
that we own anything or anyone.

Notice how bitterness tries to clasp tighter
to materialist philosophy.

Run off in different direction.
Reverse on wrong way street.

Let's be burning rubber.
Drive like James Dean.

I'm Interstellar Rebel.

Give out blankets to people who are cold.

Take my boots.

They were gifted to me by priceless friends.

Take it all.

Don't give up.
We all can heal.

Remember how to knock.
Styles 12 Mar 2019
The world is melting all around me
sip deep breaths of air
taste ice


branches shaking
an early morning wake up call
new courage flares up
flickers like ****** smiles

new growth promise
Conifers nicked
deep gouged scars
carved from distant blades

still standing Captain Strong
like protective Kings
crowned by age

my hand runs over them
dripping on me
from high above

glittery cold drops
not one dime I could offer it
to show appreciation

webs of luminescent silk
threading distance or aches

what can I offer you
my burning hands

deep prayers pounding at mysteries door
new liquid light
gushing from chambers unspoken?

circling your massive trunk
my invsible halo
lucid and sincere

my own melting glacier
full of drips
my tangled tongue
cannot unwrap

some distant hawk screech
burning with river cry

I will not forget
every scar and name is mine.
Styles 12 Mar 2019


a drowned mockingbird
perched in shrouded branches
pecking in your head

He carries
weeping willow

burnt to stub
lanes of forest trees
curiously inflamed in sun


violet waves
frosting leaves

His ethereal trill

tiptoes frigid air

both wings fractured
in maze of mirrors

now he serenades night
silencing crickets
full moon inspired

24 hours a day
spring to summer
clarifying his voice

He remembers being tested
by demonic shrieks

each black shrill
holding him underwater

a delicate noun
forced to eat verbs

nobody knew
what he survived

He returned years later
after silence stole his voice

perched half slain
on a broken oak branch

his frail voice
full of gurgling river water
broken stones

He never knew if his song
could escape the cage-


inspiration hunted

frosting hope
back into


fractures of shadow
lingering for wise reminders.
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