aware of some
things, aware
HERE am I
there you are

near and far and nothing
in between, why
should I care, beware…

It's me,
in this world, it's me,
making up my mind, to live on,
to live on
to leave behind me, for you -

a way to go,
if you really wish to follow, if
you truly hold the hope of ever
being better than right
now,
now. Right, not wrong, right now.
You know.
You think you know, right now,

with no miracles, no little things
to see, with no joy felt shared,
with no sorrow shown in tears,
with no feet a dancin'

up on tippy toes, just a spinnin'
in time,
like a planet or a star, loopin' life
in time,
from somewhere inside, center
of heavy
of hard
of dark and cold… dark and cold…

singer… singer singing wordlessly,
la las and mmmhmmms, so so so

lighten up,
lighten up my will to be worthy,
lighten up my will to be care free,

lighten up my will to be loved, by

strangers who imagine I have
loosed some good in some shape,
loosed some good held out of sight,

strange as not cognized, coknown,
to me and you, the other end of these

lines left to prove, a second
thought… if you make joy, peace remains
enjoyable,
no mass converts to energy,
my taken peace, my inspiration never
expires, each time I miss, I miss nothing
I hit
on another decision
to make.

I laugh, and let out long rambles, through
brambles familiar
to creatures built low
to the ground
at the human
being being being more than…

Partaker of the programming.
Snipping
Re-ligamental knots, religious at-here-
ence sense so common to all here,
re-
filtered feeling manufactured, here
in living words translatable, peaceable,

easy
to use while defusing the confusion,
and allowing angelic angst ambitious umph,

committed, chance fret naught,
take the shot, think thirty aught six, BANG

Big,
nothing like the game, recoil
that's what's missing… recoil,
kick,
to remind you what Newton knew.

Not Issac, Fred Newton, from Weedpatch, Ca,
a few miles this side of Bakersfield…

He, comes up around Thanksgiving,
in the spirit now, since he's dead,

he looks at me and grins, so big.

For me to live, that  turkey must die.
old fisher of men, he knew, he'd say
a man's remembered, for the shot,

no turkey ever is,
that's something
to be thankful for.

Your eyes so sharp; hint at a piercing yellow in the air-
beyond measure beyond what we lose reasons to care for.
Therefore, you shall find me down a path to the honeyed
days, when all we try to hold on to, tilts and drifts away.
While my feelings for you left me all sun-washed and
golden, now downsizing myself, inches into days.

Forever being the promise of a storm; a cause of havoc in my
heart- we meet, we fall in, fall out of love and finally depart.
Still, I’ll remain searching for the sweetness of your yellow
nectar- the tenderness we both shared. Still steeped in your
honey comb lips; as every kiss was a promise, dripping with
sweet promises, and its amber glow.

                I… remain as the one still chasing after you
                                                   -an eternal hunter bee.

A sporting life—
For the bloodsport—
We enjoyed sharpening our knives and loading our guns on the languid savannah plains.

For the thrill of the hunt—
The bloodsport—
Our sweat would drip onto the carcasses,
Mixing with the open veins.

We enjoyed the ****,
Displaying the beasts' heads as we covered ourselves in their blood,
Congregating for the love of the open veins.

******* preserved the bones,
And these hunts lived long in our memories as symbols of our glory;
Symbols of the beasts' pain.

Even if you don't sleep, this night will pass,
It will pass, and
The morning will come, and the sun will rise,
With its rays bright, silky, bushy, without mercy,
Without consolation, it will tear the clouds apart,
Split the sky in two, like a woman in labor,
The day will be born, perfect child,
Perfect reincarnation, without the need to find
The closest point to Earth, the most distant,
It will pass as if it was not, and never will be, again,
It will, slowly, rotate in the way of the Hunting Moon

We got those 1800s vibes
Men with moustaches
Women with moustaches
You ready to Hunt for your lives?

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

It's that time again, we close to sittin' pretty
Lord I pray for courage, so light that soul fire in me
Stacks of crucifixes, so we don't run out quickly
Hang it loosely round my neck should it get dark and dingy
Ward off the devils spirits, or beasts made from three sixes
Martini firepower, and no I don't mean drinkin'
Sometimes be something sicker, for demons I be killing
I'm off to hell and back, to stop em from existing...

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

Guess its our turn now, y'all ready for a feud
Ain't no stopping this crowd, we're simply too imbued
That cross around your neck, its just a waste of fuel
The venom flowing in us means conditions won't improve
We'll just keep on marching, until you're twice removed
This is our land you're farming, the boss is not amused
The biggest baddest of us here, do this **** just for fun
You'll never take us all something wicked this way comes

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock 'n' load up your guns
Snub nose for up close, it's a must
Duck low take it slow, keep mouths shut
Wear you out
'Til your absorbed by the mud
Extract with a bounty, that's how it's won
Countin' up our rewards, no need to respawn
We've still air in our lungs.

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

Get ready cos the Showdown's begun
Men, Women, lock and load what you want

is it too much to ask
for someone to look for me
when i run and hide?
but what i think of as love
would probably be
better phrased as hunting.
so, please, pursue,
rifle in hand,
pull me from my burrow;
at least i'd know you want me.
pretty as a picture -
strung up, throat slit -
anything's better than hiding,
better than a fear
best described as paralyzing.

Keep the dark at bay,
there's creatures that reaps the village after day
The children are scared,
the town folks are speaking,
scattered around the village floors
Far away, the sound of cries can be heard
and mother's trying to sooth their nasty squealing
but still they failed as the littles are struck-out despaired
The farmer's aren't having it easy too
as they're trying to sort out their herd
Some animals obey, but still more cause up a disarray
Sweet sun, gone too soon as it falls into night
It's heat, the village ask for it in a far cry
Protect us! Angels of night and day!
Soon, the ground shivers as dark night befalls
creatures, hunting the village at ***** bay