now here I am again
back to another big zero
questioning everything
I've ever believed about love
praying that one faithful day
I will wake up from life

I felt so much for you, and it's clear you felt so little for me. Emotionally, you make me feel like ****.

Wrapped in indifference
we drift away from our cares
Street sleek comes calling
on deaf doors

We caught the nighthawks
diving into eternity
as summer sweated around
the reckless youth

We would never die
and live forever
In defiance of the
North star

We swear an oath
to street sweets of
no where around
Youthful laughter of love

Those were the years
When we could not be defeated
Those were the years
before we were repleated

Everyone defied the rules
Everyone laughed at death
Now where are we
As I look , no one around

Long live the dreams
cut and drawn
of my youth
Let them gleam

there's a place for this- this blood
this place where the skin can be pulled right from the lip
a gun pulled from the glove compartment
in warm December this private affair
traveling with passenger zero
into the title of a love song or
narrowing into the wet corners of the mouths
softened annunciations over an early sixties recording

her song brings shakes to legs and swiveling snakelike movements
this Spanish river goddess I do not even know by name who settles the wars of babes and covers the infinite dust of infinite children

there are places like this:
still and magical and pleasantly mute

where she stares back to me returning
the years of eye mail exchanged between us
as if returning a floral arrangement that lost its scent
or a novel that lost its story
and a passenger writhing with envy

with a back turned she moseys
along the dirt path of the arboretum
a small dance in the bowels of her step

somewhere we blend the stories of each other’s pockets
mending the balance of need
hands surfacing in weathered bluejeans

Bait....
Like a tasty morsel of the moon
so many reflections of sunlight.
Now Rising,
Pure Memory.
Erased Eternity... .. Gone

Ground zero again. Ghost ties to old moods
now that you have found happiness,
or at least the line of best fit.
Lips interlocked incessantly on the astral beach,
over the September permafrost
where I held up the chains of my cell
just long enough to kiss you.

Chambers of blue blood, of blue feathers
interspersed in the lining of our pockets:
I felt I could fly when I finally met you.
Heard the callousness, the human history of suffering,
when the chains overwhelmed,
when I fell back to the ground.

You were my fortune in the wishing well,
but now our tongues are rearranged,
all passions now platitudes,
another name or witness to wish me well.
Ground zero again. The foundations exposed
on what might have been love.

Monoliths of steel and scorched earth.
Broken vessels sail by in the night, influence of wine;
words are tempered but the intent remains.
You remain. Extinguished shadow in the skyline,
phantom limb of loving arms. I cannot find the stars.
I cannot reach out to anyone in the space you left behind.

I feel empty
My emotions were stolen from me
By the man who once told me that he love me
But suddenly, he just left me

How a fool I was when I told him I would give him anything
So a gave my all, I gave my everything
But Without a warning he was gone
Took everything now I am left with none

vast vivid wilderness
analyze politicians mind
hypocrites world dies in lies
moral devolution,hiding in white
lose of mind,gravity inside
zero nothing, sometime
1 is a separate thing
a velvet plaything
breathing in the fumes
lobotomized muse

trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind

the eyes torture tantalize
3 rings, out in time
bombarding mind
find it not linear time
time line separate thing
velvet plaything
treated like lobotomized dogs
vast vivid life of pain
wires forced into my brain

trying to do what is right
don't forget, never forget
to start walking in the grey
memories they slowly fade
from this harsh reality
exist inside, resist tide
inside you'll see it die
justify your wicked mind

Numerous number systems beyond the real:
complex numbers, octonions, omnions which can eat whole black
      holes.
It's axiomatic that your personal history, preferences, how you feel
account for nothing at all.

$30 buys a flock of chickens for a needy family (International Rescue
      Committee)
$29 gets a girl a school uniform (CARE), for $300 you can stock a fish
      pond (Heifer International)
$69 can start a female entrepreneur in the sewing business (Mercy
      Corps)
$5 will buy a bed net that protects a family from mosquitoes (Against
      Malaria)

20th century experiments demonstrated that electrical charge is
      quantized; that is, it comes in
multiples of individual small units called the elementary charge, e,
      approximately equal to 1.602
x 10-19 coulombs (except for particles called quarks which have
      charges that are multiples of
1/3e).

Why has the experimentalism of the avant-garde, which has failed in
      the novel, succeeded in
poetry? Because poetry is always experimental; while the novel, on
      the contrary, by its nature,
cannot be . . . which is to say that experimentalism is synonymous
      with poetry, and that applied
to the novel, it leads simply to the substitution of the novel with
      poetry. --Alberto Moravia

Man made the town, Fibonacci inflated zero to be the wheel
around which the universe turns and language is the soul
walking and talking quietly or going angrily to war.
"Counting is in its very essence magical, if any human practice is at all.
      For numbers are things no one has ever seen or heard or touched."
      As are words.

Joan Didion thought the scariest stanza in all of poetry
begins Row, row, row your boat gently
down the stream. The elements, the material penumbra,
irresolvable for the mortal, readily dissolve in words and numbers.