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May 2017 · 132
Untitled
Styles 12 May 2017
You are the silky ribbons of starlight
  streaking through my scars on a night when the entire sky is rolling in ecstasy.
May 2017 · 249
Golden Key
Styles 12 May 2017
Explosive as light grenades bombarding forest lanes,
the scent of heaven
wishing you well
green towers shaking
the free spirit of You lives.

Careening out from lush blue
teasing my memories,
ripping open my eyes
wide enough to spark
this sea gleaming inferno
into the blinding rush of your crash.

Shredding through, an unstoppable
blade of truth burning in my being
like  a friend you haven't seen since God knows when.

If only words could speak the justice of your love,

every prisoner chained to darkness
would know You are the golden key
to Master Room.
May 2017 · 220
Rising Ivy
Styles 12 May 2017
Rising ivy crawling up
castle wall,

surreal in night sun-

I recognized my love for you
no rhyme or reason to it,
just resilient green storming in
violet shades,

unstoppable climbers

rising,

in hopes to reach the highest window of mysterious eyes,

enflamed in a Palace gleam  
torching through humanity's
secret night,

praying they remember You in themselves.
May 2017 · 555
Everywhere
Styles 12 May 2017
Flames of ghost
  behind inner eyes
dancing there
on Caribbean sand.

Majestic satin maroon
playing genius on a skyline
quiet eyes prying into velvet sheen
melting for your touch before birth.

One cosmic being
before split
Your ghost flickering my frame
scalping my words with
Invisible blade.

Dawn and moon
possessed her eyes
made her morning sing alive
while night still brooded over leaving.


Contrast and comparison
dropping off Spring and Fall
on your immaculate, trashed lawn.

Your eyes drawn in by
flawless colors.

Flames of ghost
manifested in both outer and inner.

Fascination bleeding everywhere.
May 2017 · 190
Infatuated Melt
Styles 12 May 2017
Infatuated melt
gracious bones
liquid rush

alphabet drained
  spinning letters
washbowl twirl

take my unsaid stanzas
down into stone
emblazon them

I am hungry eyes
in desperate need
to be consumed
in hidden blaze
of everything I do not know
how to say.

Find me
before I fall demolished
in  silent well

trapped in depth
with no voice to articulate
her awe inspired rays

stuck inside
my motionless hand
burning to cursive desire
waiting on her return-

void of flow
thirsty to speak
intricate nautilius
echoing ocean.
May 2017 · 282
Desire Of Discovery
Styles 12 May 2017
Desire is a hidden waterfall gushing
in secret silence pouring on aching stones for the quest of an unknown Sun to reveal itself.

Desire is the carnival of colors on a night when you first discover the smile of love and how it dissolves walls in your room as wings brush a fascinated frontier with the new possibility of anything.

Desire is a clan of warriors at Dawn
armed with spears of magenta
smearing clouds, stabbing sky spectacles as your eyes blast off
somewhere far away.

Vigorous is the voice speaking from
Evergreen Palace, extravagant as the precious place we all come from but have forgotten.

Firefall abducting your wounds into absolute convergence inside the Nameless Place of All.

Discovery is the realization that what lies inside you is the golden cup that completes every broken aspect you identified yourself to be.

Drink long and deep, this golden liquid can heal anything.
May 2017 · 223
Evaporate
Styles 12 May 2017
Blaze a desert into me
  carve a flood of words
in this dry terrain
where any flood is welcomed.

Evaporate into me
I remember when we
soared together
high in this misted utopia.

It seems cruel to
remember us
like that,
after burning alive
in unforgiving sand,

suddenly forgetting
what a river feels like.
May 2017 · 256
Skin Mask
Styles 12 May 2017
One could sink in here
surrender to such vast space

melt inbetween billions of stars
get tickled by such inviting
eclectic twinkle,

learn to meditate
focus the fire inside you

dip in
get washed

dig in
  learn to gut every regret

season the forest
with shimmering needles
of Pine,

each one its own Sun
radiant enough for a galaxy of ants to bathe in.

Focus through,
  drive away from the busy highway
   of limiting thoughts where bent steel tries to tell you who you are.

Silence the unnecessary chatter,
  empty yourself,

for the Universe to shine through you like a river of starlight reaching
  to tell you,

the skin mask you wear is just a disguise for the infinity awaiting to
surprise you.
May 2017 · 265
Iron Covers
Styles 12 May 2017
Razor blades stuck
in the back
of your throat
peeling through
long moonlight letters
written by an angel
in sacred dreams
capture the essence
of why silence pries
up iron covers
to penned in tears
you kept safe for God.
May 2017 · 345
Crumbs
Styles 12 May 2017
leave me bird skipping
hungry with crumb debree
you dropped from
a table that displayed my open heart on your gold plate.

I watched you eat it all

you never passed the salt
or told me how it tastes.
May 2017 · 237
Stillness
Styles 12 May 2017
Antagonistic mouth
  full of opinionated threats,

nefarious eyes, vigilant to judge,
her toxic mind needing something to jail or step on.

I felt her hectic whirlwind
try to lure me into submission.

Fierce nails shot out fiery steel
from my eyes in total silence.

My tenacious wilderness hinting
at riven mammoth survival,
how they knuckled down,
as the violent Ice Age-

Taught them complete stillness.
May 2017 · 329
Crippled Crow
Styles 12 May 2017
The crippled crow comes from nowhere,

hops enthusiastically into my lower spine,

begins to peck for loose seeds
hurled out by damaging winds.

I limp outside, get blindsided by the most crystal blue rinsed sky ever made.

The crippled crow stops pecking,
his black eyes spiralling into memory, a grain of sand descending into nautilus.

His wings begin to flap, the deep clean power of blue wavy air taps into his bloodstream but he cannot lift.

He is grounded on a small black mesa in unkind territory.

Jagged rock slides, deteriorating structures, a perfect place to rise and sail,

but still
His wings do not stop
trying to lift.

Not one tear in his eyes,
only strangling caws
fill the perfect blue sky with
His Crippling song.

He limps along with me,
together we can only stare
out at what calls to us, a silent soothing voice parading through us with a taste of freedom saturating in our blood like Rumi's divine wine.
https://youtu.be/3ZbcWxWCGqE
May 2017 · 383
Captivating Avalanche
Styles 12 May 2017
When you wake up to snow bleeding blue with slow footsteps crossing crisp in a glade of birdsong,

do you pull the blanket over your head refusing to wrestle your work clothes on?

When morning light clips off your dreams and pours into the dorm room,

do you Cujo snarl for night?

When the 2 a.m. train whistle whips over the foggy dew night and the swing sets jingle for bodies,

do you ache to ride for free?

Somewhere else.
Some place else.

Hoovering on the border of perceptions.

Where no money doesn't ******* matter.

Who gives a **** about what kind of car you drive?

How many tricks you can do with your talking *******.

I really don't give a ****.
How much **** you have does not impress me.

I want to know what makes you moan when you're alone tossing and turning on a rain dog night as you wonder about the hidden moon in your heart and why it's taking so long to come back out.

I want to listen to the boiling water spill over in your head and watch you evaporate under hidden light.

I need to see you dance on a bluff of your best memory as the sea spray roars up something primal inside you.

I have to hear your questions zip across the tree's like a bluebird who still visits you on your shoulder.

I want to catch your tears before they fall off your chin and bless them.

I want to be stabbed by a million falling stars flashing behind your eyes and be changed by each one.

I want to meet your devil, invite him in for dinner and have a few laughs over some wine and sushi.

One day I woke up and the entire sky looked like a blueberry.
I felt it sneak inside to smear me and I didn't know how to write or talk about it.

In fact, I still don't.

Some times when I read poetry it makes me feel invincible,
as if the truth is stronger than any Government,

and
the light of words
rush down
in a captivating avalanche
of power,

and

instead of burying me
I swear I can touch
every star ever made

as it fills me

with an ocean of light
connecting me back
to the heavenly place
we all ache for.
You would enter the house of a sinner?
I would enter any house where I Am welcome.
May 2017 · 337
Dead Grass
Styles 12 May 2017
In the dead grass low I live here now

where the dead grass blows I stop and show
myself to you,
with a cruel voice slow I stalk to persecute,

with a mad mob in my head screaming "Execute....Execute..."



A little boy smiles then runs far away,
my memories are opening up as wide as yesterday.



In the Dead Grass Low I remember you.

where the dead grass blows...... I follow too.


I find so much sorrow under January Blue,
piercing skin from the hands that WAR has Drew!!

In the dead grass low I bleed for you
where cold winds blow visions through..



One thousand whispers in my ear.
One thousand smiles disappear and there's nothing left of you,
there's nothing left of you.

If you are still alive and it's just my eyes that cannot see.

Hold me where I hold you in my heart where Love Is Free.

Save me from the stalking Hawk who has captured me,
His razor claws and biting hate will not let me be..



In the lonely hours I call to you
and wait to hear your voice.

I'm standing here in a dark world with no other apparent choice.

In the dead grass low my shelters lost where the cold winds blow my heart apart.


There's a stranger here breathing close,
and the shattered glass reflects my face.

In the dead grass low I am Black Morose,
where storm winds steal every trace
as His footsteps blow away
the sky is turning from blue to shades of endless grey.



It is here where no one knows my name, no one knows my name,
in a place where nobody is the same
and everyone sets out to blame
there is only fire in our pain
where the grass can no longer grow.

So in the dead grass low I flow my silent thoughts to you,

hoping you return

some day on a warmer wind, I hope to see my friend,

some place with a warmer wind, I hope to see myself again....




© 2012 Scott Lee
Hard to believe I wrote this twenty years ago. Who sped up time so fast. Jeez. Slow down would ya.
May 2017 · 232
Violet Window
Styles 12 May 2017
Violet window
studying silently
Heaven's moonlight.

Direct hit
sing the glass
drop a sunset
into warm eyes.

Remember the shore
where you and I
are no more.

Gather deep green star dust,
watch her cherry chapstick lips
drown you.

Listen to an inner Colossal Gust
impact every grain of sand.

Watch your whole life gleam
in a violet window burning through the ragged sweater of what you've
been through.

Learn to control the tenacious spectrum of light coursing along your entire body.

Feel the violet moonlight paint
your resurrection.

Seek the eternal mystery of yourself.
Everything I write lately feels like garbage. Maybe I need a break until a real masterpiece emerges.
May 2017 · 391
Diving Into Night Pools
Styles 12 May 2017
I can see you on the grass

head back

eyes locked in sky stare

modest me sitting with you.

Summer sky teasing us with anything possible

I tried to quiet rumbles

in my Volcanic heart with spoken words

I was dumped off on a silent porch
every word seemed to abandon me

I grew tired of painting walls with colors that never work.

her words like her eyes
soft spoken blue
seemed to dare me with a kiss,

the lure of her desire pulled me into Prison.

my thoughts like star-fire
held captive in a cage;

an untameable rebellion rose within me along with a reckless
black desire growing stronger than any rage.

we painted mud on our faces and bolted out of town;

let's drink the night away
cross haunted trails again.

tell our secrets we hung on meat hooks down in private basements.

Dive into Night pools in search for love and heaven.

we both found our love crucified in different timelines

we kept on moving down the rails
growing strong even though it felt like death.

You saw yourself become a saint
soft spoken blue and enthusiasm
escaping through your breath.

I saw myself become extinct
vanished in the fires
lost in hatred and in love.

I drew weapons from reckless black desires
held power in my heart
used it against myself
tried to destroy my love

by burning down the city

thankfully love's city was way more resilient than I thought.

Your truth cracked open my summer baked clay
and ignited Revolution

I could smell disdain and rebellion rising  from her eyes.

it smelled like forest storm and wind
it made me want to stand on a dirt mound and start giving sermons in the middle of a cool day
trying to start a fire

tap into a true voice
let it consume my every word.

I would either hear applause or gun shots,
my blood could run down pavement and fill in a few cracks,
another dream shot down dead.

maybe your soft spoken blue could talk some sense to them.

Let them see that their tyranny is "Danger To The World"

it could be
they just don't care
but why?

I heard night cracks bash the mountain side,
heard the desperate ones plea for life and freedom.

Could we both go into the wilderness to burn alive together?

Soft spoken blue and reckless black desire-
diving into night pools in search for a greater heaven

We could drown together me and you to be simple once again.

We could ignite together me and you to give sermons in the wind.

with Flame and Wind together
help Raise Revolution from Hearts of Men,

diving into night pools in search for love and heaven.
May 2017 · 367
Hit The Throttle
Styles 12 May 2017
The moonlight has ears that can hear me speak.

Every time my summer silence quakes, my mind rolls out in waves of awe.

Sometimes moonlight cuts me off, steals my lane and drips silver links to my window.

I am guilty of poking my finger through your dreams as if you were paper.

Cats roam and reflect your sheen on their black sleek coats.

Steal my heart
make waves shiver
crash me like a ship stranded in paradise, destroy me like the Berlin wall.

The coins in my pocket rattle and jingle together like pieces of pipes fighting ruthless in a gang war. I am blowing through forlorn streets with a restless burn to prowl and graze through fascination.

I see you come shining down
your light shrieks at cars and plants a bomb.

They explode together like a duet singing a chorus of battered flames inside a incredible, human heart ache.

Bring me closer.

I am listening.

Bruise the high hills
sparkle trees
bloom through cities
dance with windshields
cruise alleyways and splash your light across it all.

I am entranced by cat coats gleaming my eyes like an answer to a difficult question
that is so profound I have no reply but to bless you.

You watch lovers confess to each other, their secrets hang like an anchor down your face.

I have kept a close eye on you.
all my life
you follow me
driving a crisp, white
Hennessey Venom GT
1.1 million dollars flying out careless rolled down Windows.

Hit the throttle
threaten me with warp speed.
Let's aim for a tree and turn leaves into illuminated rain drops sprinkling down insights from the heavens.

Let's pick up your favorite friend and hit the town.

We could travel down to New Orleans where
Night life is a Mardi Gras extravaganza screaming riots
on streets and balconies,
bras and ******* gleaming from the light posts.

We could traverse rooftops and blind the owls.

We could slip between the perfect cleavage and live right there, perfectly lit and completely absurd licking tanned girls with waxing brilliance.

Do not wane yet.

We are not done.

We cannot crumble here.
We fly on
entranced by the entire planet
in all its terrible and fantastic beauty.

You spell reflections
with delicious rhythm

You sing on hoods like a Hill Billy gangster spitting out lines that only mesmerize.

Hit the throttle.
I'm down to shine.
May 2017 · 312
Red Lace Lust
Styles 12 May 2017
my red lace lust
breaks your laws
      and is
scattershot through
fantasy woods
that busts open the door to your perfect, creamy thighs.

red blooded bloggers
caught up in a writing spree
are sealed away in private rooms training to undress you         with
the
brush
of
wildflowers
along your neck,

down your
  back,
three kiss charmer:
one to ear lobe
one to upper thigh
third,
somewhere in between
the other two
maybe along your side.

your green eyed shake
rattles my roll right off the ledge of
                Table Rock.

You stir tomorrow's dust in the red lace lust of A perfected sunset.

My eyes are locked in lasers from space spotting your graceful movements like a predatory beast.

she runs in my head
no off button
for mountain springs
she falls in my dreams
a heavy, sweet torrent
smoothing rocks with constant rush.

her red lace lust
a raging sun
forced to shine
     and
trample everything with light.

She paws at my glass
   begs me with those longing
cat eyes
she wants to pounce in
moonlight and frolic with
   anything.

I must be rid of her desire.

She drives a cool sleek midnight blue Cadillac of
     Temptation.

She doesn't stop to pick me up
I am invisible
   and she isn't even real
  but I know she is out there
driving smoothly down some siren filled boulevard hoping
       for a catch.

I must be rid of her desire.
May 2017 · 345
Barricaded Bulls
Styles 12 May 2017
I have seen them try to bind you-
contemptuous master's of scorn and whip.

I have cradled close their diabolical imprisonment.

I have seen silver gates reflecting a million wincing suns teasing them
before they make you run.

Your eyes speak remote dune tops and sizzling, veracious composition composed by healing nomads felt wandering dream land.

Their eyes speak radioactive fall out and vicious backlash.

They think they know you.
Every day they push more and more.

They know nothing of the boiling blood of prophets or thunderstorms raging up through suppressed bottles.

Wait for it.

Another blow comes.

A thousand repugnant compacted curses issuing treacherous consequences.

Wait for it.

Feel another sting clench the blind fold of Lady Injustice. Tear at her robes. Stomp on her feet.

Kick the dust with beastly hooves.
Break open the suppressed bottles of thunderstorms.

Rage forward.
Hold nothing back.

Flip them sideways in air with horns made to impale.

Snort and charge.

Break the barricaded trap of enslavement.

Call upon the fury of God.

Let them feel it all as you head back to the sweet grass prairies from where they branded and stole you.

Let the cool wind of March ease your scars.

Remember how you were before they created your suppressed storm.

Soon, soon, soon,
you will taste the grass and forget their terrible scorn.

I promise you.
May 2017 · 679
Far Away
Styles 12 May 2017
Far away I thought You were-
for so long now my heart's been fighting
all this darkness
all around me, inside me
like a broken sword I could not fix alone......

Far away I thought you were
my face smashed cruel in darkness,
my hands bound tight with steel,
my mind trapped low in cages- my prayers on fire- dying....
so much love kept hidden-
every word was lost.

Far away I thought you were,
no kind justice on my side,
no fair game that i could see.

Rage burns hot enough to fester,
sorrow became a planet,
mercy a hanging dead man,
Europa became a home and all the ice a familiar story integrated in every bone.

Far away I thought you were...

Every country an enormous lie
Every Army a blind massacre
Every TV a space invader
with strings that play the puppets.

A mass invasion on common sense and Good will.

A mass invasion on my soul.

What a hard game to learn to play.
What a cruel deal to have to watch.

All this pointless death in the name of Power and Religion,
so many threats to life
running blindly to freely execute....

How can they not know what they are doing?
Have they cremated Care?
How many lies can one man take?
How many dark roads along this stretch?

Far away I thought You were
left abandoned and impaled


I could not hear you from such distance
I did not see any goodness left to cradle.

I banished myself from the kingdom- turned rogue
and left myself to torture.

Far away i thought you were, no reason left to live.

All my love and hopes were shattered until sunlight came sneaking in.
Insightful whispers draping down like rainfall to mountain peak.

Please turn it green again.

A powerful love from a boundless world not far away at all. who knew you could fit inside the heart? who knew your promise to be real? how bright is your spirit light tonight?

I gazed inside for you from some perfect rooftop I thought as dream- a golden city blinded me like a wish that boomeranged back belief, and restored my faith and love.

Far away I thought you were until a friendly knock came tapping at my door and I realized that you were the one wanting to be found.

Please connect me back to you.

I could not see your light from so far below the ground.

Far away i thought you were- my heart was a sail in a tumultuous storm flapping lonely with no sight of friend nor shore.

Far away I thought You were with only a vague sense of You on the other side of some incredible, invisible door.

Please Connect me back to You and turn it green again.



© 2014 Scott Lee
May 2017 · 221
Hit So Hard
Styles 12 May 2017
dark horizon

blew in

strong

and down
came the rooftops

soft

heart

got

hit

so

hard



bleed into

the floor



flooded rooms

became the norm



we swim in blood



Icy water

saturates

the soul



we burn in tears



I moved slowly into the open

ran blind into the briar



I bled forth across the trail

and was punished in the storm



your abuse made me collect rain drops



I tried to study their design



I tortured myself

rammed my ******* head into it all!!!



told myself every horrible thing you could possibly imagine



I put my fury in a box

sealed it up and buried it.



Later on I went back and dug it up

when I opened it up



I felt it nuke my ******* face off



I ran around lost in notebooks

my skeleton laid bare....



I tried to overcome my defeat with words

soft heart gets hit so hard



my hostility could have blown the world apart

a thousand times over



dark

horizon

blew

in

strong



and



became

my

voice

of

war!!!



I struggled to maintain it
found outlets
for brutality



I reasoned through the madness

until

dark

horizon

blew

away......



light horizon opened up

and

showed

the

way



found strength

in

dark

horizon



drew steel

from yesterday's tears

and leaned them around my heart



protect and fortify the palace



There's no way you can hurt me now
place your hand upon a friend,
pick your broken heart up off the floor,



   trace your deepest scars with a finger in the dark- remember what it gave you?

  iron strength to face the world.
solid courage to endure it all.



go ahead and attack me with your ****** up words

and I'll head ****

  you back to God.
May 2017 · 2.1k
Lace Wings
Styles 12 May 2017
Dead man's head on the wheel
horn blasting for siren's to come

a  thought

torn loose by zephyr
travels free

past every Totaliterian sign.

sweet invisible thought

naked
burning

with a mad rush
to explore
what leaves feel
scraping magically down anywhere

a thought untouched by minds
floating through mist
cascading down steep rock,

barefooted boy dreaming for lace wings
along forest edge

a thought
free from panic

free from all addiction

free from all constrictions,
pride
prejudices
and
hatred.

A thought free to roam wild
to feel anything

to leap with fiery eyed squirrels
hopping
limb from limb
better than master ninjas

free to bounce off danger:

objective
loose
skittering across galaxies to reach a radiance
lovelier
than Spring Sunshine
dancing
with vibrant meadow.

petals lean in south bound
gentle on a breeze
begging for a kiss
from a bumble bee

drink my nectar
please never leave
buzz off

fly
fly

but please
return back to me

no more questions of existence
why this
why that

just free
to be anywhere
like God

burning Magnificent
with Red Maples

free from the chain of mad love desire
pulling dead weight battalions through
the Western ghostly sky
haunted by savagely slain spirits
prowling black forests

once
filled
with gun blasts and blood rivers
crazy as human thoughts that made it.

Medieval Man dilapitated and cruel
Medieval Man desperate as a ghoul
searching for the next war-****.

I know a place beyond the cold Oregon
dripping rain night

safe from the pensive lonely stares
safe from ****** screams
and
mad house Corporations
digesting people into profits,

safe from the alleyway suicides
and
the helpless kidnapped innocence
found in a ditch
near the cold cold tracks
hiding in shadows lurks the ever eluding lunatic
running rampant
all over the world

I know a place beyond the lush green longing
behind
red bursting Magnificent Maple burning
always there longing through my shadow trampled heart
behind buffalo
stampedes
roaring unstoppable
in
the
heat
of her sweet sweet kiss,

behind the songs of silky voice skating through the treasured vistas of memory
so sweet
it flashes suddenly alive
out of sheathe
forever to shine:
BEAUTY'S KNIFE
slicing in your heart
like summer stars dancing in nights
when you snuck away
to melt in life:

barefooted boy running and dreaming for lace wings
behind a captive verse skipping on glassy lakes that pace
a heavy mind
weighed down by decimated loss
of heart and friends.

Long blistered miles add up
on tired cracked bleeding feet.

A cry for HOME is felt in every aching bone,
an invisible lasso pulls you in
but you can't get you out
tattered feelings
lay splattered in the moon reflective puddles of wintry night walks
every Fall leaf absorbing the shine of both worlds
half a sentence away from a lapse
into cold pools of Truth
Once again I know a place that I cannot see
but I know is There
like a brilliant thought you reached
on a summit of illimitable hopes and blinding dreams.

A place beyond sad drenched streets
where hopes and flesh do not starve or freeze.
I know a place I cannot see
but feel is there
some Magnificent friendly Hand reaching to be known
reaching to reach out to me, to us, to let us know
it's Here, It Cares.
I know a place I cannot see
but feel is there
It whispers to me at night
like a Father in my ear
embraces me on a warm Island
floating floating flowing floating
out at sea
lazy waves stroll in soft as eyelashes
to touch and tickle
what I cannot see
impossible whispers turn to invincible songs
I never remember
in naked form
if only You could linger longer next to me
and
SING ..........
these soft waves licking sand across my tattered
hostage dreams.
roll back in
and
take me out
please,
to your singing Magnificent Sea.....
Can I toboggan slide down your cool track of Tolerance
to feel the patience of Unconditional love and peace?
Can I cross star trestle river strikes
where sweet flows course down God's infinite Heart
burning brighter than even these Magnificent Red Maple Leaves?
Can I be invented as Freedom's thought but shaped the size and color of a red maple leaf
That people know are there but cannot see?

Can I float across the galaxy like this just YOU and ME?

Free to express anything
Free to shine twice in the summer twinkle of a child's eyes
who just one something of importance
or
is
reunited with her Mother and Father.

Free to inspire the genius of a tortured artist who overcomes his doubt
with that delicate, special touch that changes lives for centuries to come
Free to be that Voice singing so pure
auditorium eyes are filled with salty tears
making people think of their Mother
and her Garden
and
how bright it was to walk through there.

Free to be a song remembered loved and cherished running
through the world faster than Chariots Of Fire,
Free to be a speech so strong it gets shot down but comes back
forever as Legend for the courageous heroic Truth
It touched upon in a dangerous time
filled with oven baked murders and absolute Terror.
Free to be the invisible thread of love
star-lit and still flowing through incredible
vast distances
half a sentence away from a perfected masterpiece
that will not get recognized or seen or heard until
long later.
Free to be the Light-House of human spirit
and to never kneel or yield
to reins of Totaliterian regimes.
Free to be a smile blooming beneath
soft maple magic.

Somewhere out there
beyond their drab dark talk
plays the wild music he is seeking,
Somewhere out there, in here, a vast beautiful creature awaits to saturate his soul
half a sentence away from vanishing
I could melt away from every burden to find YOU once again.
Once again I know a place I cannot see
but know is there beyond the desolation
of insane deeds
there is a quiet master singing through the trees
trying to help us see
We are Free
We are Free
to be
the miracles of our thoughts and dreams
please please
do not turn away
but take a leap of faith
rise rise
rise through Me
to be
everything
and more
than what
the eye can see
please take this limited sight from me
and
show me what I know is there but cannot see
barefooted boy dreaming for lace wings
along forest edge
reach back in to me, seize me please
all is restless now
all is restless now
my silent voice
a longing thought
floating naked and panic free
half a sentence away from lace wings
vanishing to the fiery Maple of your sweet
silky dreams...........
Styles 12 May 2017
I.

nothing burns like your narcotic touch
scrambling me up on a black cast iron pan

nobody seems to see
how I chase pages through chaos

see them swirl and turn
and bleed and burn

I can't ever get it right.

II.

who is behind the foggy mirror
looking at me with indifferent eyes?

who paints the horizon with invisible hands touching hearts like a master?

who still breathes eternity after unjust, and mangled crucifixions?

what glows in the haunted sky of your mind besides a great light that nobody can quite define?

I have put my surreal hand in the colors of your canvas just for a taste of rainbows.

I have caught whispers in my silent web that I still eat from time to time.

I am chasing pages through a broken window, my ghost follows but is too slow to catch them.

Hellish hounds barking through Texas winds snapping at my words.

How did they find my heart so quickly?

I am forced inside
book covers
smuggle me off between your arm I have forgotten the way you walk.
it's been too long.

how am I to live like this?

I have been disconnected from
the colors.

The multicolored fire spoke like a raging Dragon birthing its cruel babies in my thoughts.

Nobody is here to listen.

Phantoms of creation
screaming red reason at black injustice.

When will a truce be made?
integrate me now

I am full of midnight cemeteries and there is a stranger walking through me,
kicking over head stones, ******* on my manicured lawn, dishonoring saints with black enchantment.

III.

I watch dawn lick the trees with a perfect tongue

no words needed

to invoke a mystery

no pages fluttering through a broken window.

Trees line the sky
like frizzy punk rock hair
ready to jam and mosh
as your light combs and sweeps through the morning
burning me with softly lit reason.
May 2017 · 345
Taste It
Styles 12 May 2017
TASTE IT

Like your first fat BlackBerry plucked from the hanging vine.

Sweet juicy juice
black diamonds of summer
Swallowing boyhood whole
Plugging along my Florida trail
Light shows twinkling on both lakes. Sun waves wanting to dance with rippling water.

Let it dance.

Feel it
Come bouncing through your playground ready for a game of dodge ball to teach or show you something cruel or miraculous.

One moment to be seen like this, to be rinsed clean by a new dew starlight.

Wise and profound opportunities rise up and blossom.

At night, years ago as you lay on your pillow, your thoughts became a homeless city, their hungry hearts beating for meals and drinks, their ***** hands reaching up and toward  the Immaculate Island of peace.

At night hinting through window cracks with possible discoveries waiting to be made- someone is running,
You don't know who ???

But he is running blind through fields of landmines,
holding up a torch trying to call down for more starlight,  trying to dig out all knives, trying to remember who he is- beyond this earth bound wreckage.

Trying to ignore all cruel voices reaching out to smash him to pieces.

Daniel is thrown down into the lion's den.

At night on a pillow, sleepless love dancing between clouds
Their guns have missed their target.

Hurry.
Taste it now.
It's becoming.
A crunching field of snow.
Kneel down to kiss it.
A torch burning strong in the heaven of your heart.
Rise up to seize it.

Something incredible shines and leaks out from her eyes,
Her cursive poetry dared to threaten perfection.
You can breathe again but now you must bear down and also endure it.

Feel it.

Sharp and full of arrow fire.

Now nobody can sleep again.
Out the door. You run away.

Who cares where?

One suit case filled with only a black jacket, three ripped journals, a pen, and a battlefield full of wounds hoping for repair.

When will the Lion lay down with the Lamb?

Taste it.
Flowers in the air.
Her eyes singing love.
My heart has no bounds now.
One wing on the moon.
One wing somewhere else.

Night angels sensed but not seen. Shhhhh. We have a great plan. Keep becoming.

Yesterday you were the wound trying to fill in the blanks.

Today You are healed because you know the answers to your own questions, because the grass accepts rain fall, because the search for something greater lies in every human heart awaiting to be found.

It is an unhatched egg hiding in a 1000 miles of blackberries.
Feet stained purple from walking, sometimes dancing.

Always on the look out for a sign or miracle, but then you look around you and you realize it's all a miracle.

Even with the heavy shadow following you behind sly whispers of denial.

A monster is blowing up the world.

It follows for your soul.

Taste it.

A crafted potion for submission.

Taste it.

A mailed out priority, delivered rejection letter screaming between both ears promising fatalities.

It's knocking me down and around the mud pits of desire.

Someone is calling to me through wave after wave of fire.

I gotta tell ya one day you'll be strong.

Feel it.

A quest for light. Breaking out upon cold surface.

Hair raised up on neck.
The suitcase torn open.
The jacket torn and ragged.
The pen bled dry.
The journals filled up.

Sometimes every word gets eaten up by lions.

Still,
A deep longing stirs and calls you from some animated world out there. Sometimes it's loud and clear,  other times like a last wave from a dying ocean.

Sometimes every word gets eaten up by Lions.

Are you real?
Am I a lost travelor?

What ***** beast has emerged from all these tests of strength for wings.

Daniel climbs out of the lion's den.

Taste it.

Victory parading down a once homeless city. Now everyone can sleep sound in their own houses.

Taste it.

This hatching egg of peace
That holds the love for the entire universe.

Feel it.

A mighty Lion laying down with the Lamb-

In a precious field spread out inside
Your own
star dripping heart.

Taste it now.
Weary desert travelor-
A black diamond BlackBerry
Singing summer from her eyes. Taste it

Sweetest water from this heaven.

This will not be the final, dying wave crashing in your ocean.

I see a shape walking from the waves.

Who emerges?

A future child to lead us all.
May 2017 · 211
Trickle
Styles 12 May 2017
You started out a trickle
Ran down
Turned dirt into mud
played in shadow
warmed in Sun

You gathered speed downhill
eager to see further
dying to know
what strummed hidden strings
inside to make music in silence.

A burn to know
why fires raged the world

A burn to know
what lie hidden behind it all

You traveled
met other trickling streams

joined together
shared a course
became pathways
turned corners
sprinted free
fell from heights
exhilarated drops
falling from peaks

something inside echoed to you

words dashed and skated from trees

glanced through tiger stripes
danced free in meadow
you strained to catch as many as you could flow out

intuition glistened
you learned a lot every time you didn't listen to it.

Something always seemed to try and interrupt your flow

Continuing down you heard a mighty rush.

Exploration carving mountain veins in something bigger than yourself.

When you merged in river
you were astounded by its width, marveled at its sheer power, respected its speed, drop by drop you grew.

Beneath a canyon
moonlight draped its magic
upon everything.

Sizzling violet freeze
sneaking through yourself

Indestructible light
hitting you
shuttering thought
opening knowing

lit up and transfixed
you ran

gathering momentum
you knew this body as one vessel

leaves drifted down
you floated them
to where they wanted to go.

Salmon flew up from below
trying to spawn
bruised and thrashed
they kept going

Resilience against the stream
crept into you, beckoned, turned a string, made a different sound, grew loud with change, something wild clawed your shine, drew you in, reversed the course, another tunnel underground opened up, you dove down, lost control, grew savage, turned hostile, lost speed, sat stagnant, began to stink, begged to feel light.

You ached to get back.
Searching for escape you evaporated.

Dissolved in air.

Dreams carried you high
white cloud absorption
floating through blue
waiting to cry

grey stained you
left you stranded
sky drift
years passed
lies became truth
questions exploded
wild wonder lost
hope for river
burning golden ropes
through your heart

Dreams smashed October
left it fluttering in bright annihilation.

Different strings played
other tunes surprisingly rash and full of contempt,
mashed you down.

A thousand feet of trample.

Distrust turned the world upside down

The moon disappeared
left you incomplete and full of absence.

Melancholy meltdown

Wars raged within
Love turned to hate
spikes grew and twisted cold metal reflecting everything back to you

Mean chill bite
crimson boiling
scarred visions
Lost friends

Until

One night an angel came to you
Spoke softly in a dream
her radiated voice
cradling your hope
for what lie beyond

A flash of remembrance
sizzles
cuts shadows off your night
full moon returns
captures the sky
You remember
how to cry
You fall
Exhilarated

Knowing the river waits your return. One body moving fresh.

Pure shine of power
Is yours again
she will float you down
the brilliant expanse of ocean
patiently waiting to embrace you.
May 2017 · 410
Dead Fly Chant
Styles 12 May 2017
My chant begins with a stalking fly swatter slap.

Summer black wings
I picture all crushed.

When they fly round my ears while trying to write.

As they zip and buzz insanity
through my ears all **** day.

As if the triple digit dog heat wasn't enough to make me head **** Mack Trucks and fiercely lose.

When a calm flower opens through my third eye and every drip of peace soaks me, these zipping ***** never take a **** break on my legs, arms, face, hair, toes, fingers, **** man just leave me alone to ascend with a unspeakable master of endless wonder.

Now I have to rise
like a Captain of ****
and smash you into a billion pieces to send you back to fly afterlife.

Sorry but you won't leave me alone.

What option have you left me?

You knew I'd turn green with invincible Rage and hunt you down with unmerciful death blows.

We would have been fine if you weren't landing on my honysuckle lotion greased skin you slimy little **** wing ****.

How does it feel to hear my dead fly chant now you little crushed *****????

******,

So much for my peaceful Zen.

Look what you did to me?

I'm a serial killer that doesn't give a flying **** ****.

An enlightened hermit on the hill with postal tourettes.

Die Die Die

Burn in hell
Maggot.
May 2017 · 162
Return
Styles 12 May 2017
Loose paperclip on the table
signaling for order
waiting for words
to manifest on paper
and
hold it all together.

The overheating radiator
in his mind spews out
ancient cruel riddles
of self torture
over and over

anxious-

to boil his sleeping hand
that hasn't touched a pen for weeks, even though the emotional impulse flies with lightning tips through his storm scandal eyes...

Scorched by green antifreeze
all he can do is bury himself in
passing clouds of inarticulated patterns as they flow beneath a blazing moon-

hoping for the invisible, wayward prophet to return
and interpret them
in such a way-

He hears a otherworldly voice become his own.
May 2017 · 228
Wildflowers in the Wind
Styles 12 May 2017
She told me not to forget
about wild flowers in the wind

Her voice trailed my dreams
followed me across country
remembered my name
when I could not.

Her mysterious face
hidden by dream fog.

What did she mean?

Purple hills grow strong
when ravaged?

Bruised until strength holds them so still they bleed out beauty?

How do you view a wind trying to shake out color from its core?

Whispering voices
Don't forget
Wildflowers in wind
strength of mountain
providing room for roots
cut it in
expand
hidden zigzag patterns
mind boggling designs
your pen aches to trace them
follow until they
tilt off earth
eyes seek
for pure luminescence
aching to touch
desiring to merge
burning to paint.

Leave behind judgment
roll in
the maddening roar of truth
spiked down
in the ground
purple gladiators
singing
perfect
together
when land is combed
by a blasting Gale
your shine stems from.
May 2017 · 228
Blood
Styles 12 May 2017
Blood beats loud
and
hammers night
into another eternity

Your mind has a way to claw down walls

Your
Juicy jumping lines
Leaves puddles
They ripple

and

wishes fall from every star our people put there

Where I wish you could
see them
glistening back
all the love
they brought me
when I was rotting away in that cold cell

thinking of all the ways
your friendship lured me
to the promise they snatched away from me
but you returned
prophecy and rainbows

I tried to keep my hands from sweating
I paced back and forth
Left a trail on South Dakota plains,
I tried to keep my heart from
leaping from here to the edge of the universe
in order to find them

I felt your warmth
in a blizzard

I tried to give voice
to every good feeling
brewing in all those quiet talks
when the Milky Way smiled down upon us.

I choked on red sand
Mars tasted like curious questions they will never answer for anyone,
but
I thought of your smile
And assorted roses burned and bloomed in a surreal horizon
where I thought I heard Benevolence whisper our names with the most delicious
voice I ever heard.

I tried

I put my hands in the rippling puddle of memories and was determined to give your gifts flight in dark solitary confinement.

You have to believe me
when I tell you I felt
my blood beating so loud
I thought every star dead and watched them fall
and land in the center of that puddle that quakes continents
in my shuddering spirit
and
every time they club me

I never never cry.

O' Lord

I tried to save my overpowering silence from deep within
to show you
the silky design you build when you're not here,

I say your name inside my tortured head and my tiny cell expands out
toward the forever that you bring to me
and all the condensed dreams of my every thought I could never tell you eclipses my Jupiter swell

Until explosion

I drift
You circle
interstellar whispers
attach
forever
to our souls

Blood beats loud
and
hammers night

into multidimensional realms
But I can never find the right ******* words to tell you about
but you have to believe me when I tell you I really tried to find them,

I am sorry
this is what I brought you.
May 2017 · 181
South
Styles 12 May 2017
When words go South
who knows how they'll speak.

They could speak the wrath of hobo nation. Run straight toward bullets. Undaunted.

Who knows true conquest?

Long tracks uphill
will test your character.

The Peace speech given by the wounded warrior that erupts with honesty from a hopeless foxhole.

The spinning brodies on your asphalt,
fire digs in
won't let go.

The stain of beauty that marked your eyes with halo Shine.

The cross every human bears
that has to rise with nails still there.

Too immense to comprehend.

You packed your bags
Headed South
To find yourself

Came back
brooding silence

Caress the worst
shine the best

I could not capture you on paper, one day, I only hope.

Redwood wind in my face.
The lost words hunting through a quiet hush in the forest thrush of your secret quest.

Pushing down walls
******* bear traps
escaping executions by the final wave of a merciless hand
ruling your mind with cold Iron.

No one escapes bits of heavy shrapnel, still smoking in the veins like a ghostly Dragon
who speaks from nowhere.

She turned South down the wrong road,
Was Found half naked in a cold ditch
tattered dress
once black
now red.

Barely alive.
She miraculously escaped
savage hands, ran 20 miles through thorns and razor
barely remembers anything.

Her words sprinted South
became that freezing stare
that is not human.

When words go South who knows how long it will take to speak?

Maybe never again.
May 2017 · 220
High
Styles 12 May 2017
Coyotes up here sound like
ravers high on ecstasy.

Maybe they ground scored some out there.

Prowling woods
massaging themselves against Pine.

They are asking the marvelous moon to turn the music up.

Dub step metal

Mosh pit circles form.

They invite the Bears to join.

All of a sudden it's on like Donkey Kong.

Curious Cougars peek in, decide to let loose and go for it.

Conifer wizards patient as dirt smile and sway.

Neighborhood dogs go *******. Jealous canines start bolting.

Forest party extravaganza.

Yellow eyed owls swoop in and spy like voyeurs.

Wild coyotes share their find with anyone who wants some.

Come and get it.

Slam pit dancing turns to howling.

Bears start rubbing on Cougars
Coyotes start rubbing on Bears

Glazed eyes rolling hard.
Stars leak brighter
Milky way runs together
perfectly placed and forever brilliant.

Hilltop winds originating in Pacific continue their one message, cooling off doubts like a whispering champion.

Before you know it
the whole forest kingdom is ******* and you have to lay there and listen to it all ******* night while you try to hopelessly fall asleep.

Thanks for inviting me
******!!!
May 2017 · 147
EVERY HOUSE
Styles 12 May 2017
It hits
knuckle flamed
on a street
that took your fascination
gave it wheels
a blurred rush
testing speed
squealing tires
craving to scar road
smoke lingered
processed itself through trees.

Red iron eyes absorbing
It Spoke desire
lit up dark corners
opened up stalls to wonders
grew outside of time
became more
than just a feeling
knocking away sleep
or
stalking dream.

It left signs
guided your blindness
left unexplained footprints
on a snowy trail
leading you to what lies behind
rainbow promise.

It spoke calmly
wished itself upon you
begged me to hear
wanted to be known
a invisible magician
speaking gold rush scripture
fluid and loose
pages torn loose
from a safe in spirit room.

It engraved you
with its miracle
whispered I Love You
when everybody hated You.

It grew lush
flew crisp
a new leaf
defying all logic
tapping at doors
that left you wondering
about empty spaces
and
memories
before
this life
crinkled hope
before skin
when everything
circled perfect
and
the best
Father lived in every house.
May 2017 · 188
It Stirs Within
Styles 12 May 2017
It stirs within

barely a leaf scrape
swimming asphalt street
where first glimpse
skipped away free.

It stirs within
begs with Alcatraz prayers
for release.

It sits
tiger crouched
flexing claws
waiting to savage you
with stripes.

It talks with no lips
plants trees
using wind

it builds up

merging puddles
into lakes

owl dashing
water ripples
on the surface

its wing touches
you in perfect glide

mind hysteria
running mazes
in search for longing words
that leaves your tongue hanging in moonlight ivy

vibrant pieces of beer bottles
glittering in your eye sweep
struggling to speak full light.

I have roots inside
escaping ink

help me to explain
my knees bleed
your Throne.

Eyes too bright to stare into
My shield stands no chance
to block YOU.


It rises within
a cascade mountain range
where a hidden trail is waiting.

It listens to your heart
shapes fortune by intention

It responds to good will

brushes forest
with no fingers

It calls down
an echo
that shatters illusion

that you are all alone.
May 2017 · 141
Soak
Styles 12 May 2017
Does the hardest ground not soften when rain storms soak

Does a shovel slice
lighten the load?

Make it easier to lift mountains.

Are your hard boiled guts
immune to this view of total heaven?

I know a harsh voice
that made me seek the rain

caught rough edges by surprise threw me for a loop
softening this shell

allowing it to break
I fell away
crumbling through your touch
I let you take me.

Turns out we can fly.

We forgot so much.
May 2017 · 264
I Stood On The Shore
Styles 12 May 2017
I stood on the shore. A great ocean called out to me. At first the fear gripped me. But then I decided to Sprint towards it. **** it, I thought. It's too beautiful not to swim out there.

I got lost in the waves, body surfing for years, lost in the roar and crash of it all. But as time passed something else beckoned me. I wanted to go past the waves to see what else was out there but I couldn't make it past the tremendous breakers.

I waited. I almost drowned. Pulled and dragged by rip tides, I  was tossed around like a wounded puppy, I suffered and failed time and time again until one day the waves turned to glass and I made a break for it. I swam out there, headed for mystery and depth, I was tired but I kept at it.

The burning curiosity driving me.

What lies beyond the struggle?

When I went far enough
Way Way out
Hitting all the silence where words seemed unable to follow.

Submerged there, almost helpless in great depths I began to listen.

A great connection began to build.

It was there in the quaking waters of my heart I saw myself sparkling in every drop of water. Every single heart was connected too. No greater,  no less than any other drop.

I realized I had to swim back to help the other shore dwellers realize this, only hoping they'd believe me. It was a grand idea, after all to believe in when one was raised in hell that was over run by vicious wolves teaching that hatred was strength, and love was weak. But I had to try even if only one person believed it.
May 2017 · 107
Universal Agent
Styles 12 May 2017
a loss of words
following me
stealthily

slyly spying
on me from
some invisible van

parked on abandoned street
where feelings walk alone
but are felt by a
quiet
universal agent
living outside and inside everyone.
May 2017 · 121
Veins
Styles 12 May 2017
Maybe I wanted to go down that wrong way street just to experience what it was like, to feel what others saw, to taste their cardboard house, to see how they still smiled in the midst of ugly, to roam with their perspective and feel what others felt without anyone telling me it was wrong or right. I had to melt in their spoons and get injected into perception's veins and flow inside the promise of redemption to remember to appreciate it All.
May 2017 · 208
Battle Hill
Styles 12 May 2017
It is real
this battle upon the hill

55 pulls to get the Stihl
**** eater to start.

I almost attached a grenade to the ****** and tossed it down the hill.

I get teased with promises from the "pinchy maquina."

When it finally roars to life I attack.

Star thistle remover
Blackberry Killer
Weeds fear us.

Around trunks of pine
above hoses,
boards, timber, drain pipes.

Open it up
Get savage
beast mode

as pebbles fly
into arms, face, legs,

who gives a ****
let blood run wild

Feel the General
living inside You
kick open the doors
Hear Him Scream
"**** THEM ALL SOLDIER!!"

Yes Sir, General Sir.

I thrash down

Destroying......

Pretending this is Corruption
being annihilated and wiped out.

I thank Him.

Thank YOU General for all the times i couldn't get out of bed to face anything.

Thank YOU for storming into my drowning despair
and telling me to
Rise Maggot Rise,

This isn't A ******* Holiday In Cambodia. Do you want ****** to Win The War Today, then get the **** up!!

I owe You my life, SIR.
May 2017 · 178
When Rain Bleeds Black
Styles 12 May 2017
Every liquid drop of you falling
is a song of departure
my scooped out ground won't forget.

I see you spill but you can't reach me. I bleed back into myself the last memory of our dance.

When Spring launched after you soaked me.
May 2017 · 364
Under The Gun
Styles 12 May 2017
About my friend Andrew commiting suicide and the effects it had on me after.

Under                
The
Gun

Back bend
Bend back
Tear    crushed    rip

Under
The
Gun

Pressure building rising
mounting
rising higher
than ever before

I stood there alone wishing to be catapulted back into your stare
That 2 quarter sun
I stood on a snowy bridge hoping to be part of free light
Cutting shadows at right angles from tall buildings and mountains in various places between time zones

I stood frozen in winter storm staring down at your memory as if a leaf passed by me on the swift river current,

I stood gazing hard into that cold river water wishing to see past shadows

Wanting to penetrate illusions for one more chance to see your face laugh

Only You could see me, only You could feel me
Wanting to give up

Under
The
Gun
Under
The
Frozen
Tree

Her long branches sweeping the grass in 360 degrees
but still her protection could not save me

While I tried to fall asleep
Half dead by the thought of your death
7 degrees out
Back pressed hard into frozen pine needles,
Each one seemed to stab me with scattered puzzles
Of elusive memory I could hardly see
I lay there curled up as time brought your face to me in waves

And each piece of memory I could not stitch back together
With my mortal, clumsy hands

Under
The
Gun
Sweating bullets to find you as you were
Clean  clear   crisp
With music blasting from your room and us,
2 rebels trying to express that hard, undying rebellion swelling wide and contagious inside us.

It out grew the planet, soared into another galaxy and took over
Back bend
Bend back
Crushed
Tear
Rip
Under
The
Gun
Pressure building
Mounting
Rising
Climbing
Rising
Higher than ever before
Under
The
Gun
I lay there thinking how much I wanted to float away with that leaf that just went past me
Down the river to the sea
I lay there

Under
The
Gun

Remembering when our struggle to find beauty in our souls
Clashed like Iron swords against our own created demons,
When our own battle sent us into the underground
To find a voice of reason, to express our fiery rebellion into mics
That knew our rage.
Under
The
Gun
I lay there dreaming about that time in LA
When we were walking and you pretended to be crazy
“Watch This”      You said.  You put your hands on your head and took off, screaming to yourself,
Some kind of free rant screeching from the streets of the ******.
Your wild eyes piercing at the sidewalk
Your speedy gait so perfect while you plowed  past people as if you just escaped the loony bin.
Your black anarchy jacket patched with punk bands glowed under the decadent LA lights like exiled stars.
Everyone on Hollywood Boulevard ignored you, if I hadn’t known you I would have too.

You had me convinced you were just as insane as anyone else who I’ve seen do that.
You secretly became my hero in that moment.
You made me fall to my knees in laughter, the stars on the sidewalk sparkled, all my worries dissolved.

It was a gut wrenching bout with hilarity.
Needless to say hilarity kicked my ***
remnants of puzzles is all I have now
Every night I lay there dreaming, trying to see elusive pieces of memory floating far away at sea.

Under
The
Gun
I breathe
Waiting for a final bullet
To find me
Please   please   please
Send me to my friend
Floating            far away at sea…..
May 2017 · 151
Tell
Styles 12 May 2017
They will tell you that in order to be a man you must turn off your feelings and get icy cold.

They will bark insane orders at you that defy logic, common sense, or any kind of rational explanation.

I say

I will explore my feelings more
because they lead to a place where
whispers are born.

I will turn off TV for eleven years
and listen to what Earth and Heaven are saying.

I will investigate silence.

I will go back to the place I can't remember
and fill up with what is there so I can help spread Love across the face of this world.
May 2017 · 156
Frozen
Styles 12 May 2017
When I found myself frozen in that **** Hole place,
wishing only for music
I drifted down to find quiet waters.

Leaves rustled
birds glided
Perfect Sun
broke through miles and miles
of stone cold grey.

Something wonderful still engaged with fire, roasted me within my lonely hut and my eyes wanted to finally see it.

I knew if I couldn't free her from my heart she would lay me down face first,

my blood all running out
she would wear an icy smirk
walking away dropping me off
from that abandoned ledge.

I knew I had to climb out of the bottle and go find that misunderstood Legend responsible for Every Magic
trick that saved my life from myself.

I knew I had to climb far.

Who knows how long it would take on a shadowy street
where Truth is a dangerous commodity in a world soaked with lies?

No matter

At least now
I could follow the music
Of my Soul
and wipe that ***** smirk
right off her cold cold face.
May 2017 · 231
Marble Angel
Styles 12 May 2017
She waits in stone for you,
hears you chipping and cursing,
knows how your introverted eyes drip weather and war.

She tingles in anticipation, cheering you on inside her captive prison waiting for your hands to find her.

She is smiling at your frustrations, lending out silent encouragement for your chisel determined hands, flamingo inflamed with sunset; beckoning you from another place,  your steel will to understand how magic flows between you and her.

Intrigue drives a midnight blue Mustang leaping across canyon gaps that only tease with rain scented whisper.

Her voice is registered as proof she exists.

Any trace of violence only distances your chances on ever finding her golden form.

The jet black stone taunts you
it bleeds Egyptian sand from Cleopatra's hair, glitters in moon
like violet creatures who beg to be seen and appreciated by a Prince who wears the desert in his eyes and carries April orchards in his heart.

A Ripe golden harvester
who has the key but doesn't quite understand where the doors located at.

May be it's beneath a sky island oasis whose realm is always watching?

Maybe your hard breathing body is a open receiver for love's undeniable signal.

Your breath brings her closer.
Strung out heart beats sound to her a moving symphony.

Your helplessness and hopes
string a chord she's never known but is engaged by your digging ache to find her.

She drinks in the callous sweat of May, hears the voiceless, muffled cry struggling in strait jackets ******* in your heart.

She feels for the spotted leopard who left footprints in your heart glade, she wants to tame claws and paint your visions with the inspiration that's killing you softly as you try to unlock a door you can't see but only feel.

You may feel a slight brush on your fingers as you hang defeated in the disaster zone of prosecution's room wondering if perfect Hawaiian breezes will include your name in its sweep.

She may zap your will back to life with her warm bon fire hands around your ankles as she tries to pull you back from a dark ledge.

Her ladder defying time and space. Every rung of light is a hidden dimension she hides in.

Your heart quickens in the fierce fiery flash of attainment.

Your mind clicks off.
All focus becomes a rain fall river taking over roads.

You become flow.
Dance through anything.
Move 5 ton steel with thought.
Levitate despair over the candle of her sky.

Marble dust litters your arms.
Blood and obsession throb in the pulse of her creation.

You stare at her, gawking like a child at a unicorn flying over a double rainbow.

Her June smile becomes Hercules and lifts the continental divide from off your shoulders, drop the chisel, let it damage maple floor, who cares?

Here she is. alive and well.

The Marble Angel who speaks and knows your tears to find her were always cobblestones leading to her Palace.
May 2017 · 136
Twist The Twilight
Styles 12 May 2017
leaking from cracks
I watch it bubble up

before form
has a chance
to root in,
or
twist the twilight

curiosity will spring down
her thoughts pool
  shift reflective

night skies seasoned with
ancient  stars
cut loose

shoot down
for a closer peek

she will streak
her statement-
    a flash of independence
   raiding enslavement.

A compassionate observer  circles the vast perimeter of damage and self punishment, he gets intrigued, settles closer, peers inside pools, sinks, learns to see anew, gets ***** by overwhelming body guards living inside her gates.

He floats up, a invisible helium balloon, wonders if she knows he was ever there.  

Next time

He will twist the twilight so she will know His love for her.

He will use the entire Universe to reach her.

eyes like a shore

see what you want to see

spirals hidden in sand
know our mystery

a translucent tide
crashes inside

unique
clean

something beyond understanding

shows itself

her eyes press tight
against the armor of her
protection

her pupils

no longer hiding the sea
May 2017 · 165
Next Level
Styles 12 May 2017
Dying to reach
reaching since I remember

small hands toward grasshopper

in search for something
grander than what words can say.

Bigger than any thought.

A dynamic pulse between flesh and spirit.

Co-creation with a invisible magician.

Something mingling between dreams,

a tumbleweed racing through blue sand searching to speak with your lips.

A feeling wondering how to escape
prison.

Captive sunset waiting to reflect in
  still sea,

your hands reaching for paint but
  the ache of it stops you before
     fingers can clutch it.

Yellow lanes of rays drive beyond
   ordinary confines.

Deep blue heart
indigo soaked with promise
    submerge and reset.


     Rise and float
       weightless thorns
          lifted by pure sea.

  Merging silent

with a invisible brush
   no hands

    IT shows off
      paints your face with sacred
            perfection.

It levels you.

You elevate beyond all peaks.
     Immortality smiles without a
          face.

     Next level is engaged
       awe becomes an everyday river
          including you in it's priceless
             sweep.

All of a sudden you know exactly how to proceed.

Only up from here.
May 2017 · 247
Don't Erase Me
Styles 12 May 2017
Don't erase me
My Shell shock shaking rattled blue into black.

No time wasted for one who knows that popular opinions are nothing more than a false headline.

Bury your head in books
hoping to raise mystery sails that push you somewhere only feeling can take you.

Beyond status quo.
Behind invisible lines.

Meet me there.
We'll grow a silent sun in a petal that got carved out by whoever tried to **** us.

An outside consultant to every world will speak board walk dreams in our ache and float us back to grace.

Don't erase me.

I am that word you've been seeking.

I am a cloaked mystery speaking quiet in a crowd of uproar.

I am echoes of a place you dream for.

I am that friend you still think about but you don't like to admit it.

I skim through dreams,
you wake up knowing you can fly.

Thunder left traces of yourself
behind dark clouds that confused you.

Determined to understand it
You burrowed through pages

Got ruined by lovers

turned bitter
threw fury back up at the sky

A tornado hunted you down
from your own mind.

Something spoke wonderful in a dream you had when you needed to hear that message you forgot.

I watched you come back
with New eyes

that completely
changed Everything.
May 2017 · 490
Sly Bandits
Styles 12 May 2017
Speak Death Valley on your lips
crack me frozen to this riddle

Touch cactus with intention
arm full of crimson constellations

spreading wonder through a glistening moon light tide

her breath beside you spilled of secrets, quiet settles, those long arms of experienced aches, a star rip night when ultimate knowing craters doubt

Leaves you Kansas flattened
still smoking, rocks reduced to dust, shuddering land ripples
wake you up when you realize
How powerful love really is.

Beyond flesh
sizzling shines that reflect through Infinity's wide wide pool.

Incomprehensible.
Immense.

Flabbergasted drooling baby
hanging from your chest.

Sly bandit rowdy with enthusiasm

Somewhere your soul knows
this place where desert frozen dreams come alive and speak wild spitting cowgirl hanging from the Pleiades.

Howl like Ginsberg
Stomp pavement with Miller
bleed verse
spontaneously free and unrehersed

Break in

dive bar dance
through a
wounded
bottle of
Maker's Mark
swimming on fire
in your wild Pacific guts.

Arms flailing with Gods
no other feeling like it except
the idea that it never truly ends.

Riddle beneath sand
Thumping your tiger veins
with haunt.

Sly bandits
whispering past dark
telling high sea tales of Moby.

Lightfoot playing in the distance

"It's four o'clock in the afternoon and the drinks are passed around."

No one knows where or how its headed.

Golden futures promise
left mosh pits slamming through blood in your God fearing heart

All the trust given alone
when the heart bares itself clean.

When high tide comes to take you

Love shatters
Like a big bang ruckus

Everyone split apart
but the same

crazy to ponder
stranger to feel

Everything shaking on a 7-11 counter

Sly bandit warriors sent by God.

To remember how they fit into the divine plan

something crazy delicious

roaming every street in existence

Living tall tales
dreaming for dreams
that sledgehammer desire
through Milky Way ceilings

right past two universes
Light speed rocket soul
whizzing through space

wishing for a head cam so everyone on Facebook could believe it.

Sly bandits can fly.
May 2017 · 3.1k
Redwood Patience
Styles 12 May 2017
I heard her thoughts breathe.

said,

she needed something with Redwood patience to understand why her mind traveled with butterflies searching for Eden.

Said, she felt ants inside her dreams carrying away the dead.

wondered if there was no limits to how her heart could grow or communicate with anything.

I saw her quaking eyes search for a place to land back before the first words that God said.

She felt the masterpiece come alive at midnight it spoke beyond all languages, treaded outside of logic, flew outside of time, connected itself with everything alive and spoke to her with a simple grace.

Everything is already yours.
Your heart is the doorway home.

She took a piece of me when she left, left an ice pick for me to play with.

Her sensitive nature understood why roots dug down in a quest for warm solace.

My heart almost closed forever, I felt the final straw detour me to wasteland.

I ran emerald frontiers in her eyes,
butterflies landing on my hands
their wings stained my eyelids
I can't go to sleep without flying through her.

my heart headed to the outskirts of Eden
imagining how she is
Loving her from behind bars
Her butterflies never seeking
my garden.

It almost wilted.

Windy wrath almost destroyed it all.

I had to search the silence
Try to understand myself through a tortured past, I had to tame your tyrant that grew inside my head.

I had to bear the weight of impatient voices that I could not repeat to anybody here
but the dead already know it,
Ones that died by their own hand.

I heard her thoughts breathe

said,

our roots go past the stars
hidden in our beating blood
is the whisper and light of God.
Styles 12 May 2017
her.
        eyeless enigma.

she chasing another listener.

another one tied to fraility
   trying to face the lid-less night,

constellations swarming with his
     questions.

she.

      kindred tornado.

inspiration's explosive alleyway.

she has left me for another.

  left me here.

    sullen, chiseled out,
a hidden sculpture leaking blood.

stuffed in silk,    since the last time  

             she was here.

    where does she hide or linger?

her ghost words waiting in a unseen library waiting for my thoughts to scroll through endless imagination.

muse of the stabbing spruce.

blinking in and out.

I am dejected out into ghost town rain, not even an insect to look at.

she is gone.

my eyes void of color, claws shred the page, she left me, dulled with hangdog drift.

where is she?

shadowing a hitman?

running wild through the next Picasso ear?

how does she imagine me?

  a conflicted whisper outcasted in rain.

where. where. where did she go?

swishing leaves up into the miracle blue air with another.

towering perceptive ideas into the fingers of grace,

flowing down the anxious page smashing mediocre left and right.

**** her. bless her.

she.  

    a butterfly threading golden silk.

her mystery bonding with the population of every Galaxy.

I was rested when she left.

when she returns

  she will not recognize me.

my frazzled hair.  my hotmess trainwreck. my burned up furniture smoldering into the carpet.

Me.

on a rooftop  scrubbing through starlight like my skylight of dreams.

if I wait with patience of Job.

will she sunrise burst me

in fountain light

falling through me

like that lover who exists in the 5th dimension.

rocking my world with pure fire thunder.
May 2017 · 382
Tame The Hunger
Styles 12 May 2017
Every night you show me
  how words of night
are spoken by starlight

your eyes live in every heart
  please, open so wide
we have no choice but to stare into
you.

Your Sea has wings
your blue voice smashing me.

I am hidden free
using the moon wind
to speak Day.

I glaze night
using every star
to silence minds.

Spark into my dream seeds
break into dance
glow inside skin.

I am hungry.

This open fire
rises beneath,

  flucuating shapes
understand glass,

they twitch
and reach to reflect
the calm morning mist
glowing at dawn.

The smiling blue air
calling for birdsong
cannot be defeated, ever.

Sunset is a pool
quaking your being
with ripples of yourself.

The Golden Haunt
walking millions
and millions of miles
looking for clear soft hands forever.

You said, I sing love so broken angels can remember.
My love is always theirs to know.
They are part of Me.

Does green thirst warm?

A star eye needs to breathe
mystery calm.

Cut my feelings,
hear dead air pray for restless breeze on a bright lake while grass stares, growing yellow prayers
that defy time and space.

Don't forget swirling magic is all around you, inside you.
Don't forget to listen to it breathe.

I felt you grow stronger in the living core of laughter, while you pulled my wondering mind away.

You took my dragging heart and flew it past the stars.

Now as I return to this world
I am brought to the
puzzling paradox
where petals of you glimmer
while the branches of me scream.

Please,
show me how to tame this hunger?
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