You are not beautiful, it seems
the world has lied to you.

"And you think the mirror will present beauty to you?"

I know very well it shall not,

for the world has shown me its true cruelty long ago,
I am no longer angry for what I've seen,

it will only haunt me so long as I breath.

"And you breath no longer?"

It is not possible to breath without a face you have removed in
distaste.

The day I saw the sun, the day the world and leaves run and the wind blows
When frost quenches the heat of summer and blooming red of fall
When stone narrows and water runs across the new dawn
That day love is still and quiet I will call
I will stay light and
I will not stay alone.
.
.
.
It was man who hummed the first tune of freedom, green and blue and brown
Who forlorn and broken continued to search the seasons and the soul
Who feared the evil of the rift and the allure of brawn
It was a requiem to the birth of our first role
I will not abandon
I will not contest
.
.
.

The parable crying strange
Actions,
Has once more
Grown truth, drunk and in love

Upon five years passing,
You have grown five years.
And the sun will set,
Just as it rises.
Until it does not.

I guess it’s so, the rows of streets paved at our feet
Black tar seas, summer’s heat provides the street
The shoe and sun and shallow ***,
Bottles and bottles branding the sill
To help the soul: the full of swill.
Nine and a half sometimes a quarter
Into machines they call a “disorder”.
And to no prevail the summer will hail
A day of peace and a promise of more,
But the day is young and night to old.
And so turn with seared toe and heel
From the papers of tomorrow myself I’ll peel.

Sad, I'm sad
But glad
To be bad
To be tones of anger
Thrown in your face

Fret no more my loved one
I see sky and soil in a miles embrace
Let there be no race
For our time is out of reach
And death we must all face
Yet no mere mortal has won
So don't you fret my loved one

Timid be wind floating above
Gentle as light litters eye
Though no longer
Once so, so must deny
And do not yearn past;
but what future has done
So fret no more my loved one

At edge
Salvation yearned to lay
Yet as I
Not for gentil day
May legs embrace the stone bay
And blind be you
Turn, see blindingly

Treason of the wind is to remain, sand stone and dust
Sand stone and dust is all we’ve tried before,
Before the raining days and blowing toppled sea waves
Tip top above the lot, the lonely man craving the sea
For his house no longer a home has burst the love, the fiery fear
And that is all
We hear
The good quiet and bad blown loud.
Loud and louder.....
Until......
Treason of the wave becomes in itself a love
Of grass and trees, shroud the sun and run, have fun
That itself is love
That is love and the wind and the wave and the tree and love.
I miss the all,
the all of it; I miss her all the most.

I bought a knife, lighter of Vienna
A suitcase of plaid
And left life at times light
Greeted day in car and was
Greeted family with absence

So I left
Homer and his interpretations
Only his words and my mind by side
A passenger of wool and barley
So through window the sun shall rise
Lied, how I left life in stride of day.

Portland stone dreads my feet.
Burrow my fate into you,
Love, for this is love.
Doves groan when caught in havoc
And I fear when stung by manic
Sadness.

And it has begun
The dram and the draas buried
It and all my steps.
For only when my past is suffocated,
Can my future breathe

The water screeches along the shore,
Depths of madness and malice
Are reached, cascading along in a roar
And it continues ever so long,
for the river never ends, only
the light upon which it is seen.

Why do I follow such a thing,
A beast blind and wild as rapids
is my mind,
But i always follow.

Those who ruin
The sun,
And the stars,
For others
Are little in life and love.

Grip my cry and squeeze tight
Let not the fear escape, nor the fright
And I know I will be blind for a bit,
But see forevermore.
And in this sadness is something close.
I think she’s gone, she’s gone isn’t she.
I wish she would have stayed,
I miss her, god I miss her, god she was it,
In my many fears she never quits.

I saw you when you were blind to all, upon the ragged snows
At springs first thaw
For this is you, the coming of green
The whistling winds
The widows grief;
So gentle and sad
I,
Saw it so,
But remained unseen.

When quiet she is summer
a swift breeze strolling through words of mouth
to love of mind

When angry winter has risen
From ashes of love torn might
So might I love her until torn
Is day as sleet rips at its seems

For her beauty is well worth all

I’ve lived
I have lived!
But death, she still
Calls.

I sit, and where’s the sun?
below the grass.
And I rest my head on my jacket,
And below, a stone.
Where is the music the world used to play?
Ears untouched.
Where is the music?
Where has the world,
Theory, sinews, and all
gone.

And for this split second
I'm alright
But again
I'm Consumed
Below anxieties surf

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.
For I am your sun, am I not?
And should my light not be buried with me?
Should ground not extinguish it’s blistering cheer, yes
For This is life and I must not cry,
For my light is not yours, you must find your own.

The days roll by like clouds
Though i cannot touch them, i see them
whisper away.
And with them i fade, steady
Then all at once as the wind paints my mind
grey,
Red and blue, colours of beauty once but gone now.

That storm within my head has rotted me so.
Whats to be of the bird mimicking my sanity;
A cry sung to deaf ears, again forgets reality.
So, it grows as the days go by, at knees to a lovers eye
So, love has come, as it will go, forget not to feel;
That which has been felt at that sworn goodbye.
Thoughts of peace torment a soul;
That storm within my head has rotted me so.

That storm within my head has rotted me so.
Frail of resilience against the blowing words torn;
All said of love in absence of light, again is born.
As I was, blind to faith, seeing fly, man’s pale wraith.
A blistering inferno of summers reel;
Of epic sights surging a man standing great.
Yet I, left behind, mustn’t grow,
That storm within my head has rotted me so.

Fear swells from oblivion
and to oblivion it falls.
Stepped sturdy from the depths
I So very often call.
Once and then twice and once more
Again.
The toes that once touched will never more
Mend.

The feet I walk upon,
Are yours
For where you say
.
I will go

I long for the sloping valley, sliding earth free,
For the conquered hill from which is born
            The oak tree.

In all the loveliness the forest presents,
I will observe, quiet, like a servant
            The green tents.

The rain, a lovely song it sings against the leaves;
A drum of nature’s fire,
For which the youth plead.

The fool seeking love,
is naive to his own soul,
the tremors which rattle his heart
have yet to break it,
but no doubt,
with good time,
they will.

Down when and now not tomorrow (though tomorrow will be)
Do not worry today is not the last of its kind;
“It hurts today, and to think, it has hurt before”
“But that’s life”
“The happy in life though, where is it hiding”
“behind the night”
“But is it this night? It must be this night, this moon”
The moon, the moon, no sun, but the quiet light blazing beyond our sight
“This night is something new but will not be different”


Not different

But new

An hour in the grandeur of life
Is relegated to an hour,
It will never be more.
“But I’ve seen so much in this hour,”
But it remained an hour and remains a moment
And remains nothing more.

For the man, passer by, passing by..... passed by and had nothing of your moment
It is only yours, he has nothing of it
It is only yours, so keep it safe.
Not with fear of losing it
No, it is special and it will be lost.
But keep it safe because it is not his.....it is yours.

"Lovely isn't it?"

                              "The lonely moon lying above the tree line?"

"Yes, but I do not see a lonely moon."

                              "Where is this moon you speak of? I see not company in the forest, nor the bridge to its guarded heaven."

"Perhaps you do not, but can it not be among love if others are not quite about their love for it?"

                              "Can it not be loved and lone all at once?"

"Yes but the moon must not fall into such perpetuations,
We all desire and much more, require its pride and loveliness."

You are a moon my friend, a moon in a night sky.
Know to be loved and alone, and then know to love ones self.

Better to be drunk and inspired, then to be nothing at all

Upon age dragging my soul,
from when i was young i drew myself old;
Though now i am here I miss the trees that once grew home,
the deck, tumbled over
and my feet blistered and burnt

The pains of adventure bore hurt greater than i'd know
for only in todays time am I aware of what was
And I am no longer.
No longer a tree on which we climb,
never to be what I now can only see.

I had my turn and it is passed,
But today is my chance
at what others wanted to last.

Draw me crazy,
Shadows of my arms and legs sprawled along the brick.
Drive me home,
Where stone bears no shade nor hope
plays no trick.

Son of one has left us, stirred of emaciation
Upon plank has the heat grasped?
Love of the tree to brook, a forgotten relation,
Just as dirt on hand shall never pass.
Free of gloom,
Amongst passing in pending doom,
Hitherto forgotten, yet a thought shan’t lash;
And youth coward as cowards seek mass
Sheltered here forever more,
Rain shall rust minds steel door
About refuge of heat spoken in rhythm.
Grasp faith and defect from lore
The end is nigh, though do not give in.

And told so was the day, told of the coming dark that greets the end each eve.
Though no eve existed before the change of light to dark,
Nor any sun existed before the dark.
Nor any man before any women.

And so sit solemn, solidarity departs you and
bleeds itself dry in the room down the hall.
And you do not here it’s cry.

That break in brick, layered
Upon grass,
Grew swift and strong,
Blew in rift ever wrong.
At my feet to the crown of
My head,
Gentle gloom cast on leaves
Bored dead,
Papers crying fire nigh,
Fork words of a years lie.

Foot of stone bore deep into the swell,
cracking upon and destroying.
For soon they who the stone holds
shall fall and be no more.
Stand long, stand tall.

Stand long, do not fall,
For when you do and it is done,
Swells will perforate the stone raw.
And to those born between the stars
Do not long, do not call.

So I skip essentials of growing up;
And strip bark from tree.
Let the sky turn red as the poppies head.
For I ride drunk of love to be free.

Wallow, pitiful man of the spring and summer
know that the grass still breaths when winter blows
Wallow in your high-way blazed ignorance.
to seek the south when the north disagrees
to seek the south when the north disregards.
To see not the day to come, one must know the day that's past.
And I, pitiful man, crave capital that eludes knows only
this.
Only the blisters born of december.
And so in my stupidity I accept it,
A s th ough it is all that i s.
As though it is all that is.

Snows melt
Drew my love quiet.
Falling upon  
The later ear.