I held myself as i was
Falling, and falling, and falling
Downward to blackness
Saying
"You have to pull through! " said I to me
"And can you? Can you? Can you get me through? "
Responded me.
"I can see you to your feet and help you stumble around
And I can lean you in the next direction-
To keep you from falling to the ground." stated I.
"That would be ever so helpful my self-like saint.
I can't move on my own,
I'm feeling rather faint! " said me.
Desperately
Stumbling in a world of tipsy turney light
I held me up, got me feeling alright
Then relieved
Me said to I "Without you, I'd be done! "
And found, with surprise, that we two were one.

the blank face of
this page
stares back at me

mockingly,
void and vast

such a wide, wide
universe...
a blank boundless
waste...

I wrote this if only
for the chance possibility
to save the wasted
space

Over yonder past stacks of wheat and hay
There lies the first pavements of a newly born city
Ever beautiful and frightening still
I am watching, standing like the American gothic
Wrought with overalls and a straw hat
I fork my hay, moving it to free the image
To free the image of this paved monolith
Flat like a laid down headstone
Indeed, a headstone to mother earth

To dream the depths of a thousand
Worlds
And amidst the hope and rage there
Swirls
Some sunlight awakened and fog that
Curls
In and out of the fading night
- - - -
With screams of pain and sorrows
Kept
I did awaken to there that
Crept
Upon my skin broke forth cold
Sweat
In and out of the nightmare's fright
- - - -
And as for the demons I hadn't to
Bother
That I'd left in my bed, thank heavenly
Father
And I flushed out my head, brought me to
Fruit and water
In and out of the morning light

Horizons of smoke
The burdening
The woeful well.
Dropping ideas like rainwater;
Like poison tokens
Or burning embers
To a pool of kerosene.
Like feeding a dragon
Hungry and deep throated.
No darkness could stop it
No world of light hearted notions
Or light in long tunnels.
Those things don't matter now.
Swallowing weights-
Heavy lids-
Propped with fear.
Hair's on end-
Trying to flee-
Thwarted by attachment.
A din of quiet:
Vital quiet
Ear shattering quiet
The sound of nails on slate
The sound of wailing life
A quiet that kills.
A sudden look back,
And there flies the children of that well!
Tattooing your mind like
Spilt black paint!
Splattered, disorderly!
Grabbing you, carrying you
While you clench for anything to hold onto!
There is no handle
There is no reaching hand
There is only you.
You, and this pit of ink,
And your poison ideas!
Forming a brush to shape the ink.
Unlocking chambers
Unlocking your true nightmares.

Like steam in a dark room, there's a feeling inside
A feeling that feels like it's trying to hide
A feeling that's awkward in the back of the room
A feeling that breaks and sticks in shards in my gloom
A feeling that feels like the darkened clouds in the sky
A feeling that's black like coal in my eye
There's a dent in my mind, like the feeling in its womb
There's a feeling inside, like steam in a dark room

Could it be?
That the Sahara has relocated?
It drinks the austere sun
Chipping life to its
Lowest form
Could it be?
That this is my affliction?
It is unclear-
But I would give greatly
For a drink of water