there's a light in this house
that waits in the dark
it's the only spark
in the house
in the dark.

and the moonlight
in the window
is only
a shadow, so spotless...
it gleams.

when the sun hides
her face
in the house with
the light
in the dark.

with all my
heart

all things
all day.

let whatever you do
be the blood in the rainbow
and swear that you'll never go back
to Chicago...
let the radiant darkness
inside you continue
till it rains light upon you
in waves like I do
i'll be ****** if I do -
not display my emotions
i'd be shipwrecked
in the *******
of a dead stare
at a life full of love
that was gone.

gone.

gone.

all the voices march
out of the dark hum
and into my heart
by the ton.
windswept phantoms
of a lost tongue.
i gauge the 'morrow's
of my past
to gain the length
of my horrors
to come...

but always with your heart
numb.

and always with my heart
a strange
sun.

down in my toes where the sand and milk corrode the bottom
of my rucksack and employ all manner of moons
to disassemble my terrific glee -
i savor the rubble of my junk suns and the anvils
of my conspiracies
and i loom in the dark corners of a secret alphabet.
slumbering aloud with my mind open
to the dreadful and sublime.
as my teeth rattle in my joints, calling tomorrow
from it's grave mistake
while dreaming of another
one.

i awaken.

What would you do, if your clouds were reading my mind as i was reading your mind ?
Can you spell heartache with velvet steam and the letter between the L and The Afternoon of All Space and Time ?
nodding off and dreaming this very moment-
reading ahead of you, and gasping
that i knew ! ?
Would you have me dance with the damsel known as " goodbye soon " ? or would you rather walk with me to the labyrinth -
of stars, that milk their glow from your *******.
How magnificent is this ? this swirling escalation of Beauty
oozing from a porous mind, as we embrace each, the other...
At Om on The Range.

the guitar is at rest, perched against the barren wall
that stands between the outside world and the fathoms
of a Living Room. A couch festooned with pillows
and pet dander.... as the Sun's last rays cleave
the dun brown
of cabin fever,
echoing off
The walls

without a sound.

Your Horoscope today, reads like an open palm
floating on a feeling that dangles from your gypsy heart
entangled in the Dharma throb of an all-nighter.
sipping whiskey from a flask of gin... with the moon's skirt
flipping your hair to the West, as you bow to the East.

full of long drums and Absinthe, your shadow leans into Paradise
with an icepick and a candle. The lemon eye of a wrinkle
in blue - protrudes through the canvas
of your flat space
to the Very rest
of You.

your trajectory is far removed from your Reason.
Stars aligned, no longer plot. But they -
Highly Recommend.

the charts suggest that you
are the Squire
to a Lost Night
in Profound  
Lament.

But your Wings
are like the Miracle
your Levitation
Dreamt.