Through the eyes of a dying person
Living comfortably with the idea of dying
Knowing there may be more
but believing that there may not
Weighing probability and chance
With wonder

When I die
I don't want to leave with the sounds of sobbing
Nor the sirens waking up the neighbors
I want to be remembered with your love music words hope
and the happiness
of life

Most of all
To love without fear
Your promise of living on

There is  light
There is darkness
Everything exists as duality
Just as there are those who will stand up to the oppressors
There are those who are oppressors
We all have the choice to accept the darkness and the light inside of us
We can't deny one part of ourselves without denying the other
We all have the ability to do wonderful things
To be that hero for someone in need
To be that person to stand up for those
Who don't have a voice for themselves
We all have the ability to spread peace
And to spread love
And to spread light wherever we go
But we also have this darkness inside of us
These tendencies that make us wonder
If humanity is really humane at all
There are wars
There is genocide
There is hatred
And even people killed in the name of religion
It can become easy to get caught
Stuck between the darkness and the light that is inside of us
It can become like a never ending battle
That rages and wars inside of us
But we must be willing to accept both parts of ourselves
To see the light as well as the dark
To be able to truly move forward
And to truly be whole
Because if we continue to fight ourselves
Not allowing ourselves to reach the light
That tells us which way is right
And which way is wrong
But at the same time being afraid of our own shadow
And fearing any negative thoughts
Or any negative influences that might come our way
We will be trapped in ourselves
Constantly fighting between the light and the dark
And not accepting the duality in us all

Dear lover,
Remember the tattered throw rug we laid on,
when I discovered your birthmark shaped like a tangerine
on the back of your knee?
We were velcro back then.
You told me I had eyes of indigo
and the corners of my cellars smelled of sweet
honeysuckle in the fire months of summer.
That summer, we marinated in our fresh air
that filtered the stale, standstill atmosphere.

Now, the toolbox on the broken shelf,
the set your tired father provided for you,
is rusting at the hinges.
Like you and me.

The saltwater my indigo sight produces, confronts
the bolts and twists,
corroding anything it touches.
Lover, this can be reversed by binding
our loops and hooks together.
Lover, the tools have not yet been used
and only you and I can discover
each other again.

Always,
Me.

skin polished
with oils, salt and husks
i gleam
with perfumed butters and musk
silken smooth flesh
like living warm honey
i languish
in the golden light of dusk
limbs naked
under silks and plush
i wait

i wait for you

The blood clot is
back. Up to old
tricks. A halloween mask.
A heart attack with a laugh,

One day. that old
**** is gonna kick,
Leave me with his water gun collection .
Body in the ocean

                                                          ­                Someone built a giant cave
                                                            ­  inside of me last night. When I was sleep-
                                                          ­            ing someone built a cave in side
                                                            ­     of me last night.when i was sleeping.
Someone built a giant cave inside of me last night someone. Built a giant cave inside of me last night .
                                                            
                                                                ­             Body in the ocean.
          
Now it's ocean everywhere it's
flowing  but nothing flows.
The ocean is still now
so still it is a salt lick.

Body in the ocean.
Chopped off his own scalp
sever'd Body after Body in
the ocean. Skinless. Battered. Beaten. Bested. Busted appendix. Internally bleeding. Externally bleeding. Bleeding from the mouth. Bleeding from the eyes, ears, and throats.    The devastating side effects of self-
anhila-
tion..
                                                                ­        
                                                                ­        Every one laughing at the bl
                                                              ­                                                                 ­  o
                                                                ­                                                                 odclot

"Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why."*
-Kurt Vonnegut

The end of the
world feels like
warm cement. All
our bodies covered by some sort of god.

Everyone is a
statue now, trapped
in the form. Posed,
in a big boy pose, look mommy.

Feeling so strong
is the kind of talk that
gets you killed. Good
thing I let my fists do my talking.

Getting killed so
many times has
its drawbacks.  Some
days it's hard to get out of bed in the morning.

I glimpse your eyes staring at the shadows in my soul
Seeking to calm the wildly rushing storm
Keeping my heart out of control
Unable to keep
The beat
Pulsating whole

I stare into eyes seeking to calm the storms
To make my heart their own
Leaving chambers once cold now warm
My heart begins to pulsate
To the beat
Of a song, it's always known

Buried longings softly rush, to be finally freed
From this heart out of control
Once a half now pulsates complete
Your eyes chase shadows
Calming storms,
My heart
Returns to whole

Oh my! I am so selfish
Do I have to confess this?
Of course
Oh No
Then I confess.

They came asking
That I may come close
I couldn't
I am sooo selfish
I thought they would take away
What does not belong to me
Mine and yet not mine.

I confess that I have a sticky hand
Not that I take
Because I can't give..............

Now! Wait a minute!
Am I supposed to be confessing this to you?
While you know who the owner is
Of what am afraid to give.

Tell me!
Do I have to give my love to anybody?
When it belongs to you.
Mine and yet not mine.
Oh! I confess that I am confessing.

My eyes close up
Opening my mind to a misty world
With shadowy outlines welling up
From the shallow depths
Of the past day's events
Shaping the Mosaic of my imaginations
Into corresponding dreams
Standing guard
At the out post to my consciousness
Just before I sleep.