Blind man ***** goes walking down the street
Nobody talks to him with his cane tapping

he just walks alone

Heart attack at age 28
carrying 400 pounds, dead weight
after awhile his wife said goodbye
he still wears the ring and cries

Two girls, aged 13 & 11
he tries to warn them about the ways of the world but,
babies havin' babies
signs of the end times

***** is blind, but still can see
the colors of this violent world
we're not sure if its history on repeat
or the nature of the news

People walk around ***** all the same
never asking his name
never talking about the weather
That's okay, they don't ask mine neither
that's why we walk together

The man went blind but now can see
he thanks God that let it be
Amazin' Grace, give strength to thee

A girl named Karma met me on the road
She said, open your eyes when you’re through

Now burnt sage may erase a lover’s rage
And a pretty girl's face may seal your fate
One way or maybe two

We plucked flowers from her life like memories laid upon an open casket
Lowering ourselves into the ground, deep,
like a purple hue hanging on a spring time skyline
Now, I’m not sure why life lives on the edge of death
nor the reason why young people die
I suppose it’s just the way of things,
and that can only ever be the logical explanation for anything occurring here or anywhere,
physical beauty fades just as a sunset, and even if you capture a picture, nothing can replace that feeling of being there, standing,
baring witness to the all encompassing fruit of the immaculate conception permeating all existence,
like a deaf child struck dumb hearing his first sound
or feeling the wetness of rain
and smelling the earth after its fall,  
I am

Now Karma, she said something so interesting to me
She said, you may not be here tomorrow
That’s the way it goes I suppose
One moment you’re here, and then you’re gone
Its all a surprise, even to the dying, but of course we’re all dying,
just some of us live along the way,
young death be a thief of sorts,
stealing into your home in the dead of night,
taking you abruptly like a dark epiphany,
robbing vitality, corrupting the seasons,
injecting nonsense into the blood stream of our way of things,
yet nothing he takes he wouldn’t get
So I ask you
How many nights will you sit beside a fire
feeling a part of the realness surrounding you?
When that crooked deal passes your way, and its time to count the chips, cashing in, will you be able to smile at the dealer and say thanks,
your tires swerving into a dusty stop like a heaven bound jalopy
come crushing through the gates,
leaping four steps at a time

Now people talk about what isn’t fair, but there is no such thing as fair
Just like some days it rains and some days it snows
Some days it’s cold and some days you can lay in the sun,
we learn to live in the weather
And some of us talk about it
and most of us drink water
These seem to be the way of things.
The paradoxical nature of the observer unable to comprehend infinite scale, yet still experiencing it.  
We are names made of stars existing on a grain of sand,
our universe a droplet of rain in a spring storm,
yet boundless as an archer firing an arrow that never lands,
everything a larger version of something small,
everything a smaller version of something large

Within this paradox exists a search for meaning,
we all long to do things that speak for themselves,
the value being intrinsic,
like deeds of gold,
but after the funeral we realize the power of the word.
We promise every year to have a living funeral,
and be speakers for the dead,
detailing the reasons why we had love.

Now, I'm not sure what I like more
the taste of candy sweet or the view
but from her mouth I heard the sound
Don't do to me as I have done to you
So from this place I took a page
from the sinners oath of truth
kneeling down before barbed crown
feeling the subtle point slice through
Knowing what is said and done
will certainly cycle back to you

We’re all looking to do something real
And the words, you’ve got time
Are the biggest lie ever uttered out of the human mouth
What that really means is that we don’t know what to tell you, we can’t, first of all, the realness is too personal, everyone has their own version of what is real, time and space are relative to the observer after all, Einstein proved that, but only if all natural laws hold constant, and theoretically those probably break down somewhere after the age of 22,
No, you haven’t got time, time is an illusion, just like the trophy award ceremony where everyone wins and gets patted on the back for trying,
No, stop telling us we’ve got time, we’ve got time to flail in the wind, we’ve got time to do work, but finding the realness is beyond time, it’s the kernel stuck in the teeth of our soul, we need to water this kernel, and philosophically, everything we do may be watering this kernel, but in practicality, it feels like we’ve been going nowhere with all this time we’ve got, stop telling us we’ve got time and tell us to travel, to explore, to roam and push our consciousness to the brinks of the universe, tell us to be unafraid, not of the fact that there is still this thing called time ticking away minutes before we die, but tell us to be unafraid of what we might find when we come face to face with the realness, tell us to be uncompromising in our search, tell us to stay away from any who would tie us to the ground and care about anything other than the realness
Because we’ve all got time, until we don’t, then what are you going to say to reassure the disaffected grown youth? Sorry, but you had time, and now you don’t, we can’t coddle you anymore with stories about time and how not to worry about it, time to join the ranks of the real world. Make some money, stop wasting time.

A bird flew in through my closet
I had to let it go
out the window, it flew into the morning

Buzzing chatter sin and spirits
madly the dance carries on
inane questions with one word answers
reporting the days trivialities
carrying the glass
the deluge of phenomenon strikes at the quick
a deepening glacier through the amber halls
Independent motives form a scarlet solstice
The corner punch
a late coming truth
wrapped around a fly town mule to be found after the chips were down
and the explosives tucked onto a full chest
ticking away the blood buzz
Deceipt is easily repeated
Betrayal is a child's game of hide and seek
take the vows to the woodshed
smoke out the liar and the instigators
tell the mayor and the pauper that the world is burning
and to strangle honesty in a warm blanket, twisting the service
manipulating truth to serve ***** ends
Oh Mystic Mama of children unborn and never met

Chitter Chatter Chitter Chatter Chitter Chatter
platinum blonde birdies
chickies, full breasted youth fresh out of the nest
peep peep peep
sonic cataclysm reigning groove puckered lips and loose necks floating on a string in the whistling gale
My cornered ambition surveying doorways to fate, kind and cursed
the runestone heart scrying destiny
torchlight in a catacomb
smokefunk in a polar vortex
Lions patiently gaze savannas, so shall I, wait for the moments prompting,
a glance, a smile, the eyes are portals to new beginnings
will ours meet in time-space, energetic bridges spanning fate
feeling the flowing force flowering
a daisy, a rose
the scent of burning sage sealed into my clothing, my musk
open your palm now
kyanite slips from mine
polluted temples housing pure souls
speak of fires and nooks and warm bellies full of honey liquor stretched across a bear skin rug, naked,
run your fingers through my thick pelt of curly fur
let me taste your cold smokey lips
take a drag of you
inhaling embers that burn my throat with your incendiary nature

The grey lady of the mirror invites the forgotten man to the palace of pain,
entering into a crystal ballroom dancing blindly into past circumstance marauding as purpose and plan, dusty photographs and scratched records

Lean against the wooden ledge and dream of what could be
crusted sea salt collecting on unspoken thoughts
Nauseous vectors pulling weight against the grainy side
a sigh, a bored youth hidden deep inside
Come children, sway to the intoxicated beat
the pied piper of jazz rolls our frolicking feet steeped in cement
rebellious laughter pours out of aged caskets
barrels of wine flow forth into puddles on the street reflecting the twisted value of the vine, constant motion pretending to be holy endeavors of self conscious people flailing for purpose

Vast desert, without voice
only eyes, silent eyes
hands reporting, sketching symbols
code for a future age
Names and labels filling conceptual minds
Bass groove melting into permeable streams of fluid conversation,
as the wood beams stare silently above reflecting the glow of a mid-winter lantern on a snowy street
nimbly, we punctuate and nod in this, our confused jungle of intention
suddenly, the face of God appears at a crowded bar with jazz and a morraca's hiss
Wild sweet Annie goes down easy with the Corner Punch lost in Lucey's Summer
taking a last ride to Courtland alone along the Mazerac mile riding that same Fly Town Mule on Sunday
Visions of Columbia and Ohio Gold send Blood Buzzing into my dome
With every Call the desire rises for the forsaken, like a memory wrapped in past life
With every stranger passing through the entry way, my hunger for the liar grows, thirsting water from the dead

Show me the limit of love
Is it boundless as a cosmic sea of nothingness,
containing the void of all existence?
Show me an end to love
Does it penetrate all Being,
and I, a part of the whole am taken by its force like a speck of dust in the wind - blown

When the last finger slips the grip, trembling wet with exhaustion,
Will you still reach for me as my own heart reaches for you?

Even as my mind recoils at the thought
And reason rebels at the flawed logic contained within the futility of the last man standing
ambushed, surrounded, bloodied, brave, body quaking, vibrating with manic energy, eyes showering hot tears, posturing proudly, ripping a tattered shirt open exposing a naked chest to a thousand piercing arrows descending,
pounding the skin with a defiant fist in tired rage, unleashing a wild yell, swallowing life and death
He has reached the temple and tasted the wine
laid with gopis
smiled and grunted with monastic pleasure
laughed and welcomed the universe with wide open eyes

And yet, he is a fish tethered to an unbreakable line
pulling away from shore into the open ocean
endlessly swimming, dragging the weight of history
pulling and pulled
the line slacks
the fish desires the pull again
No matter, the proofs are on the chalkboard
unbalanced equations mixed with shifting solutions
dry lips gone beyond explanation
Indigo wild mixed with cinnamon and spent wicks
burnt sage, smoke filled rooms
cleansing the impure surrounding us
hands full of stones
quiet mysteries filled with fingers pointing to jupiter
mouths whistling to saturn
ink dripping under the weight of egoic worlds
squeezed as a juiced fruit
the essence becoming free as a bare foot on the earthen floor
Now, call forth the highest self and scream into the vastness of space,
LET IT GO,
the lower jaw slides forward channeling the full force of passion masking the upper mandible with unrelenting desperation to clean the spiritual house,
turn it over and reel out the dirt,
throw open the curtains and drench it all in sunlight
We are the manifestation of Destiny!
We are the descendants of Myths and Legends!
and no matter where we turn this fact is inescapable,
every corner commands us to seize the nectar and drink it down, uniting with the purpose to resonate
The ten ton weight stretching thin our souls must be released, sinking into the trenches of our past
as we bravely challenge the ravages of time and change and heartache incessant in this animal existence
Realizing infinite waters, diving deep!
Crashing through the moment
spinning, coming to the center of the universe,
it is my own perspective transcended

the past is a pack of hungry dogs forever nipping at my moving feet,
reminding the bitter cost of looking back

Tax man been comin’ round my door
What the hell from me he wanting for?
Old man saying there been riots in the streets
That this just the price to pay for civil society
Young man laughs at the foolish game
The Hebrews cried out, "Give us a King!"
there can be no rule by reason, only trust in God
but the people cry out for the human bond
With a warning, the TRUTH spoke out a roar
He will enslave your sons and send them off to war
he will take the best of your best, and keep your stock as his own
only trust in Me, and the order will form
a higher dimension that no mortal can conceive
Believe my people, please believe
forget the untruth of the safety lie
The world is chaos, and you will surely die
No man can save you from this eternal fate
so why not live free in your given days?
There is a plan within our shared channel
Let's trust in that and see the thought forms dismantled
some call it the system
Authority, man
Taking from you, all that they can
Giving back, what isn't theirs to give
We can work together and surely live
Free of the tax man, his burden is forced
deny him the money
that unquenchable thirst
Necessary evil, some will say
Look at coercion, monster I'll slay
They preach peace while practicing War
Nixon targeted Peaceniks to settle a score
don't be fooled by the rebranding attempts
the new boss is the old boss
time and time again
Our fathers are tired, so let's give them a rest
Usher in the New World
give it our best

Our days are droplets of rain in a spring storm,
plentiful but falling so fast,
whooshing past us like cars on a freeway,
soaking the world in our life.

Let me touch you with quiet confidence,
or if you prefer overt splendor,
tell me whatever manner you please,
my knowing hands shall deliver your pleasure,
lion eyes bathe you in a glowing gaze,
exchanging mischievous looks as grown children wandering the wood carrying forth only their awe,
feeling the same childlike wonderment
exploring the curvature of your figure,
perfectly shaped mounds resplendently formed
with the subtle touch of a zen master,
drawing circles in his sand garden,
your hips full as the sun's light
reflected orange in the late winter clouds expanse

Light a candle,
let me chase you like the moon
following the morning star across the sky,
our passions shall collide melting into a singular heavenly body, encapsulating both night and day,
the eternal quest for succor delivered
as a gift to be unwrapped under the tree,
give yourself to me, body and soul,
and to this human beat
a sugary sweet song will come forth from the depths of our ***** *****, run with me then through the wet grass lining the beach,
when we meet in the light,
we say nothing,
the waves will only whisper,
stroking your hair,
it flows as a silky onyx river from a diamond spool,
down the small of your back,
where my breath is lost
and my desire found,
in that nook making my home,
play with me there,
tracing lines