In my shell
there is life

In my cell
lies decay

It shows itself
every single night

Then at dawn
hides itself away.

Dear one:

You are a quiet conqueror
I know it
because your voice will make avalanches
and rouse the sleeping mountains
your words of kindness will heal others
and in doing so
it will break your own cycle.

Jasmine,
I believe all these things
and in you so strongly
for I have seen it
in a future that presently waits for you
remain steadfast
and please realize
you will do many wonders
because you are one yourself.

Once the bombs fall
and the sky grows heavy with fireworks
you'll never see beauty again

Forests no longer bleed green
laughter does not echo
childish games become war exercises.

There is a darkened need
to overwhelm neighbor,
friends, enemies.

Only scorched earth remains
charred memory on your boots
as the taste of yesterday fades.

There is only advance, advance---
when footsteps fall, marching on
and it is the nothing that is shared by all.

Darling child,
there is nothing I can give to you
except for the fear that was placed in me
a long time ago
once when I crowed loudly as a youth
then was bludgeoned with words
lessons meant to cage and keep me
and my ribcage still houses that fear
however, you should be glad to know
that my love for you now speaks louder.

The world seeks out the youth in me
waiting to devour it eagerly
wanting to remember the flavor.
Lukewarm without seasoning,
consuming it---
first body, as sparse appetizer
then soul, as both dessert and entree.

Mistakes are used as marinade
drowned in salt and vinegar
the recipe of all humanity
before I am tenderized,
with each violent flash of the silver mallet.

Finally plated---
on the finest china
surrounded by soft flowing table cloth,
and folded napkin of regret.

Mind the spotless silverware
once cut, the juices begin to flow.
The menu is carried away
and the wine list is red.

I am revealed
then served with a green garnish;
under the nose of unforgiving critics
whose taste buds had withered long ago.

Courage is reaching
beyond the brokenness
to grasp something of great importance
that lies
just outside of understanding
and ignoring
the sharp bite of failure
choosing instead to hold it
with broken fingers bleeding,
all---
     the---
          more---
                   tightly.
Knowing,
that the true reward
was the struggle
the experience;
Amen.

I've outgrown the rage
and fallen into God's design
all the hurt and pain is gone
I've left that part of me far behind.

I'll tell you a secret
that nobody knows
no king nor queen
or wayward vagabond suppose
ever see tears from a clown
purposefully stain his clothes

King unto himself
the jester like the rooster
only beckons when he crows
inviting the day to come
before he quietly goes.

Think about it---
with so many things left undone
and so many words not being said
no wonder there are so many ghosts
and so few bedsheets.

The day God became angry
His finger came down
narrowed and pointed at me
then separated the ground.

My lungs were pushed in
I struggled just to breathe
and after that avalanche
I have no choice--- I believe.

The bruises that adorn your skin
tell me why you don't let me in
that stare tells me what you've seen
from the perspective of a human being
although you avoided my gaze
and ignored my greeting too
the brokenness of me
reaches out for the brokenness in you.

Strange rhythm
beating behind the wall
so many chambers
fast footsteps
slow breathing
nothing can mute this music
since I hardly know you at all.

I'm reaching for my happy thoughts
But I'm only grabbing air
looking for that life time
with no one else to share
the more I start to wonder
the more I really care
how I was never here
and I was not all there.

I stood staring
not moving
but aware
feeling the breeze
and its touch
light as a feather
hinted at freedom
long since forgotten.

Heavy is the gravity
that anchors me
to the ground here
so when a shadow
covered my face
I raised my eyes
and I cheered
as a white bird dissected the blue sky.

Blink first please
I need this win
when you're always right
the argument will never end.

What bookends, are we:
you, a verbal conquistador---
who seeks to conquer the conversation
and I, an unwavering peacemaker---
who extends the olive branch
ready to give right in.

The shovel bites shallow
as the dirt flies
and after a few cuts more
the earth yields its vein
the metal flashes again
with its angry face
and I know
I'll carve out a place
somewhere, deeper still
until nothing of this world remains.

Drain the venom with your pen
write it out,
until it wraps around you.

Stem the bloodflow
use it as a tourniquet
spit out the poison onto paper.

This world was made to devour
unhinging its jaw,
seeking to binge on us.

Do not be afraid
be forewarned;
take off the head of the hydra
and be resolved to continue with the cause.

Eyes so gray
as storm clouds gather
and heaven looks away
the wind comes strong
and what is left of me
crashes against the rocks
the rest of me goes astray.

I remain the worm
no one gets me
only the early rising bird
that opens its beak
and swallows me whole
down the endless gullet I fall
not stopping
no chance to wonder
if life was ever truly fair at all.

This is the last conversation
the final goodbye
looking at our life together
and the mess we made
we found our sweet disaster
when there is no pain
no downpour,
no outcry,
and no more rain.

Rose,
what creature
of creation are you?
the pale silent canvas
that invites artist's touch
starving talent
that wants for stale bread
a still life waiting for purpose
or become the unfinished landscape
as sadness paints your face
eternity shrouded in layers
in a blue period of self-discovery.

Read me through
then bleed me too
a tempest of words awakens in me---

When the weather rages on
hold fast, seek to last
or find understanding to be incomplete.

When such an old soul, bound to fresh form
becomes left out in the rain
it's warped from the touch of the storm.

Do not misunderstand me
I am not in love
with your beauty
it is your brand
of ugly that interests me.

Let the rusted shackles remain
all the tread-marks and the bruises
to remind me in this life,
that I was once a prisoner
of my own habits.

Show the bars were fashioned
from the idleness
of my own two hands,
which bestowed upon me the title
of lecherous warden.

Out of all the millions
it was me who reached the end
the walls were breached
and a person
yet to be, curled up dreaming.

Do not feel unworthy
and this reason alone will resonate
you fought against millions
never asking for conception
and here now you stand.

An army of white
filled with personality
pushing past
surging, searching in purpose
making the threat my existence.

At this stage there are only impulses, programming that breed
moving onward in the labyrinth
not truly knowing
but blindly going
against potential brethren.

Like a magazine
locked and caged,
in between
sweaty hands
cast away the shells,
cartridges,
the bullets and me
tell it all away
it's just a dream,
just a dream
and hope you're still awake
when the shooting ends.

Forever Vows:

I promise,
that I will keep loving you

until---
I hate you once again.

To all the enslaved
that are still in debt
I nail this note
to a wooden frame
that you still need to open.
for all of you,
that have tasted society's boot
I tell you---
bide your time
turn the other cheek
and learn to respire
you will outlast the fake
outlive all the ungrateful
and become the one true legacy.

Drowning,
I can see the shore
I am closer now
than I was before
a playful breeze at my back
the feverish sun sinking low
only a little more left now,
a few hundred miles to go.

Broken toys
don't sleep at night
they sit in corners
and stare with one good eye
wondering, collecting dust
quiet rejection
turns to mistrust
with dreams just as broken.

I woke in a sweat
to the sounds of screams
at 3am
with shaking hands & ringing ears
I couldn't close my eyes again.

A women's distress
just outside the window
sobered and terrified me
leaving me
in a ghostly state
determined to visit each room
and count each sleeping head.

This call of the wild
from fox to fisher cat
how the shrill beckoning of nature
reaches and echoes everywhere
peering out to the woods
it is only fitting that this man
be deemed the real intruder.

Waiting
on an empty stage
for the applause
the curtain to raise
echos here
sound like praise
simple silence
is not a phase.

When our eyes open for the first time
there is a reason we do not speak
no words to express
nor feelings explain
more of difference
but more of the same
yet the only truth
that is known by waking
this world that I see
I accept
I feel
will soon become the death of me.

That face
how it shines
seeking to be closer
to those fingers that caress
softly spoken words
that call the divine.

So precious
all knowing pet
lovely creature that hums
such purpose becomes that closeness
in your eyes
you think me God.

She's not you
she doesn't kiss me
those times I'm absent
she does not miss me.

Her eyes don't shine
when my name is said
she doesn't like to get close
or sleep in the same bed.

She doesnt like my jokes
or when I smile too wide
she gets angry so quick
that it's like a prison inside.


I wish life could be the same
but everything is different now
and it's only getting worse
since I can not speak your name.

I remember
despite it being crass
what my wise grandpa once said
"You've made your bed
Now shove it up your ***!"
while that is disturbing as sin
however, the real problem is
I forgot what nursing home
we stuck him in.

Stand by me
for I am still at last
no rythm in the vein
no fog upon the glass
no light will ever dance forth
for my time becomes past.

My feeling have issues
I'm trying to live
aside from the anger
I'm trying to give
nerve endings scream
you cannot go numb
breeding the theme
that I'm coming from.

This land was once an eternity
until the gray line dissected it
now there is gasoline and chains
the sinew that winds around every bit
this is not an illusion
but in the end,
it makes you ill enough.

I am dead

Or perhaps---
I am not dead enough

Remember me once,
if memory is kind,
your small song bird.

Chorused stories that I once happily sung for you

Filling a house which made it a home

With my echoes of voice
that heightened ceilings, and breached the walls

And you answered back, encouraged me, with silence.

Your form merged into rigid countenance, face hidden behind the folded others.

 

My song--- was it enough to provide me with your love

Tell me please because I cannot hear you

Soil has no speakers, only the quiet ones with distilled tongues

And life shall be its only witness

 

Truly my hidden pain was your sordid gain

Has my late dowry increased your love for me

Dusty dollars of faded ghosts that once carried with them, morality

Sadly, there was never enough time, never enough to hold for ourselves

So the time has come for your voice

I’m so afraid of the darkness, my bed is hard and cold, where are all the comforts I once knew

I ask you please, begin--- there can be no shame when I am your only audience

Do not fail, the reach is too great in some other way

Sing me a song father, sing me back to sleep.

I think---
I like---
you better
when you don't breathe.

Sitting at the table
across from me
phone in hand
more technology than human.

Leaving me
to feel enough for two
as I place my white napkin
over your face and walk away.

Hey
I just wanted to say hello
I saw you sitting there
lost in a far off look
and wondered---
what was on your mind.

Hello,
fellow human
I tried once to connect with you
and failed to get your attention
once that electronic gaze met your own
You didn't notice my eyes or smile.

This commute is hard
No. Not the bus, or the train
The distance between us all
That keeps growing
The warning signs are all there
We're falling behind.

We don't see nature anymore
Content to replace it with our own
Habits pile up then consume us.

How much more can I own
Until I care
I can't carry it with me
when I'm called home one last time
what will be our legacy
Our children or our possessions

Systems cease
organic beast
lies ever still.

Memory remains
observing stains
of the ****.

Huddled together
the night doesn't hurt anymore
there's no chill
and no ghosts still hovering
just above our lips.

Blanketed under the night sky
we find the warmth of each other
and we ignore all else
even the intrusive barking
far off in the distance.

There's only us now
in the smallest of worlds
creators of finite moment
that hold only important things
and the most gravity.

Go to sleep
you broken thing
you tired, tired
sack of tissue
say your prayers tonight
get up tomorrow
and be ready
to be broken all over again
Amen.

It's dank
It's dark
where my other half hides
Strike out at the head
Strike towards the heart
The air is different here
it closes in
if you fight
you cannot win
fair warning
I welcome you
come on in.

Not my soul
that I rip aside
not my form
nor bleeding hide
not my fault I was born
the two parents
I thought were mine
brought me to this world
and left me behind.

Let's not be coy
I said,
wagging my finger
you are here to talk about me
I said repeatedly
to the mirror
so talk---
I said, playfully
or I will.

The monster of things
brought out the man in me
the boy that emerged as a man
from the trappings to be
and with all that I know now
it becomes a home I can never again see

I've lied once
I lie now
I'm venomous
I'll show you how
Come in close
Don't look away
Illusions dance
Creations dream
Gods can't die
But they can scream
So many pretty things
Block your way
Now I've done my trick
And here you'll stay.