If you are quiet
when truth is buried naked
Lies will make you slave

Those crystal eyes in my face,
When the True Light hits my mind,
I write in those whispers of night,
I pour my soul in the empty paper.
Then I do colour the paper in red;
The poems I write will be red, my dear,
As the last drip of my glowing blood,
Will be shed down amidst my heart.

trolling through
midnight streets
braking to avert
inflicted pedestrians
crawling to and from
pedestrian afflictions
I hope become fares
I am the vehicle
to next destinations
the portage to
an evenings
ravenous
end

Music Selection:
Ides of March
Vehicle

10/15/14
Oakland
jbm

A mirror
constantly
in the state
of not knowing.
It only
Reflects
from the
outside...

Pure awareness
constantly
in the state
of knowing.
It reflects
Itself
In
Itself*...

Free flow the waters
of the river passing by,
though we thought
we'd caught her sleeping
when we heard their lullaby,
and though
with a thousand bridges
we bound her where she lay
still her waters pass like lifetimes
and we watch them slip away.

I found you
in a book of pressed petals
& black widow receipts .
Then I was riding along the back path
"all the way to China"
and you were there,
hands grasping for each other
and cheers leaving joyful mouths.
When they found you,
your body was cold and limp
on a cement driveway.
Lips blue and cracked
and feet without shoes to warm them.
We were gone,
and our sun was shining,
but yours,
yours had gone out.
I don't remember if I cried
when two weeks later
I discovered your heart had stopped.
But I cried now,
even though it's too late
and 5 years have passed
since you did.
I cried now
and I no longer ride along the back path
"all the way to China."