The officer stopped me
"Are you D.U.I." ?
I said in reply
"W.H.Y." ?

I caught kisses on the "F.L.Y."
If you think it's easy
Then you should "T.R.Y."
if you are not too busy

I was F.O.B.
And I'm not talking freight
So good it made
me "S.O.B."

I know you are annoyed
at my inconvinces
that leave you dangling
from your C.I.N.C.H.E.S.

Two a.m. and it hits me like a freight train -
The realisation that I'm never letting go,
You're too familiar, too engrained in brain,
My highest high and my lowest low.

In every whisper, gasp, and sigh,
You're boiling in my blood,
Far away and yet close by,
My senses drown in your flood.
My avalanche, my hurricane,
my natural disaster,
My shelter from the pelting rain,
Machine-gun pulse racing faster.

A spectre, haunting, never gone,
Your imprint ever by my side,
Knight and bishop to my pawn,
Commandment that a must abide.

And every new experience,
Every wayward thought –
Shadowed by the remembrance –
Fights what can't be fought.
Each new one I compare to yours,
Forever my default script.
A room without windows or doors,
This heartache is my crypt.

You never knew and never will,
Just how deep I buried
The memory I couldn't ****,
In my soul seared and carried.
A keepsake, invisible brand,
Bittersweet reminder
Of doomed castles in the sand,
Love poems in a tear-streaked binder.

The rain came down.

I sat on the doorstep,
eating tinned peaches,
and the rain fell.

Walking out, into the city,
life falls in one-two beats;
being nothing and comfortable,
the architecture stows straight lips,
moves on, the rain falls.

Freight rolls, wet tracks northbound,
over-bridges exuding fine china,
two fishermen idle away remaining hours;
concrete bunches the rain into shallows.

How hollow the sea, that home,
the crooked lines of the inland peninsula;
how strange, this routine, in
how so very full of emptiness I have become,
like the rain, having fallen upon ebbing tides.

The rain no longer falls.

A long dark day precedes a long dark night
Ive lost to fear, ive lost to freight
Come courage or strength or even might
Ive lost the battle, no will to fight.

The room spins with an awkward intensity
As I find myself (once again) questioning what is real
Fearing that time will steal another moment
From my consistently weakening grasp
Unknown forces pillage my thoughts
3:00 am
Ideas jump from my mind like suicide bombers
Burning and fizzling as they plummet to the ground
Confused by my feelings
And confused by the world
I ***** emotion onto a page
Hoping it will save me from being broken
But words cannot contain
The run away
Freight train
That is my soul
On fire and restless
Far too tired to sleep
Way too hungry to eat
Too thirsty to drink
Too everything to think
I mean what I say
But I can never say what I mean
So I stare a the T.V. screen
Hoping it will make me normal
Or at the very least numb

Goodnight Red Balloon

Welcome to a world where people spit evil,
Like a freight train they disintegrate your soul,
Words etched into a brick wall like lies ripped into your heart
Change you
But don’t
Keep a shield of love and hope
Over your heart
To
Mmmmmmm,
Block out the haters
And you will never see the evils of mans hearts

Laying Track

Ribbon of steel you stretch forever though you lay flat you touch the moon beyond earths boundaries
don’t you see the appeal it is so real gliding into dreams that stream beyond reach on air your pillow the

Silent sky is a natural right away for this freedom train break away from the bounds get far away where
Sounds no longer rule the airy whistle that has a smallness that calls can’t you hear it lightly scream its

The tell tale high pitched voice of adventure not the mediocre fashioned from earth and rock no this is
From particles of space bits of tiny crystal there make up unknown that much the better any old day you

Can ride the rails that are fastened to the ground let go see the stars up close do a zoom by the moon
Stamp your ticket galaxy bound your own a true star bound Zephyr your spraying a silver trail behind

And yes there is still a caboose connected to this great ole train that doesn’t play by the rules it’s not for
Profit but for thrills laugh at those long lost rolling hills this train is half ship it runs by a tiller the wide

Blue yonder it presses to lengths where before only rockets could go take a spin around Saturn’s ring
Go ahead it a onetime fling take it farther than just the back and forth lean on a natural train open the

throttle lay her completely on her side and enjoy the ride from side to side take her into a cork *****
make history give vent to thoughts that all old engineers have felt these old tracks always just side by

side I wish we could veer of into that beautiful country side race down through an apple orchid after all
the tons of apples we have hauled that would be a ball or skim the river light as a feather not just run

across another same oh same old bridge or ride up top of the ridge for once I get tired careening my
neck always trying to have a look with a great view yes just say it and it will be so want to fly though

the chilly blowing snow there it is just outside of the cab just let me be enthralled by that great moon
sized ball let me follow silently through the night that shimmering silver moon light trail until morning

and let my great old whistle soothe all who hear it on earth below all the good times are rolling together
this has to be my finest ride I brought a lot of freight into the station most of the time it was on time but

this time it’s my old heart I’m bringing up to the platform for the last time you see I’m retiring from this old line my next line will be a fishing line and some rascal fish fighting on the end I hope you enjoyed the

ride I know I did I love to share

CONSIDERING THE FLU NOW HITTING THE POULTRY INDUSTRY AND FUKUSHIMA’S DESTROYING SEA LIFE IN THE PACIFIC,FAMINE IS ACCELERATING AT BREAK NECK SPEED.FAMINE IS THE ORDER OF THE DAY AS GEO-ENGINEERING NOW MANIFESTS ITS DEADLY RESULTS IN DROUGHT,FAMINE AND DISEASE.IF YOU HESITATE YOU MAY VERY WELL STARVE,AT LEAST THATS WHAT THE GLOBALIST DESIRE! PROTEIN WILL BE THE FIRST THING TO DIS-APPEAR.IF YOU THINK IM KIDDING ALL THE TRUCKERS WHO ARE CARRYING FOOD,MEDICINE AND FOOD STUFS TO THE UNDERGROUND CITIES AND BUNKERS ARE AMAZED AT HOW MUCH OF THEIR FREIGHT IS GOING TO THESE ELITE ‘BUNKERS' VERSUS HOW MUCH FOOD IS BEING HELD BACK FROM SELECT STATES AND AREAS SUPER MARKETS AND WAREHOUSE DISTRIBUTION CENTERS-IT ONLY GETS WORSE FROM HERE

May 5, 2015

I have food stored but it won't be enough I suppose
Oh well

The night, my face, your hands: The world is damp.
What else is there to do with all this weight,
but sink into the autumn grass, sedate,
sticking to the lawn like a fresh new stamp,
feeling the pulse of a steady bass amp
filling spaces between us like a freight
train, roaring to a new country, so late,
bearing fragile cargo to unknown camps.
I want to rage against the worst of me,
to keep deep down that brassy, dismal light,
wailing after you pulled me from the road;
your shirt's sweet warmth smelling like wet birch tree.
It hounds me to the core, the ifs and whys
of ugly nights, the drive to overflow.

_
We woke to the sound of China cracking,
and curtain rods hitting the floor.
Daddy arose and he seen the light,
the **** was red-hot on the door.

He woke momma in a terrible fright,
we three kids were asleep down the hall.
When the hall lights began to flicker,
our lives were all that he saw.

Questions lit and burned out,
I don't remember calling 911.
Life was rushing fast before our eyes,
burning out like a cold setting sun.

It sounded like runaway freight trains,
a rolling thunder down the hall.
On a track leading to dominoes
that were not quite ready to fall.

They heard us children shrieking,
you know we were scared to death!
"Everyone get down to your knees!"
Was death's artist drawing their last breath?

Daddy wet a towel and he turned the blazing ****,
realizing our screams were no more.
He dashed through high flames down the hall,
and he kicked in our bedroom door.

Frozen and huddled in the corner,
behind our new bunk beds.
Daddy heard us  praying real fast
with a Pokemon blanket over our heads.

Daddy picked up the sobbing twins,
and I told him that I could run.
The fire must have reached daddy's .45,
I heard bullets fire from a gun.

Then a new skylight appeared up above,
the room reeked of daddy's singed hair.
It then began to rain inside,
we knew that a crew was out there.

The front door then burst open wide,
and in came a laser light show.
Narrow beams of light danced upon the smoke,
showing them the way to go.

The policeman sat his wife in a cruiser,
and daddy walked out of the dream.
The children climbed onto the fire truck,
I heard an oxygen mask muffled scream.

listening from the window,
a freight train moans
slogging away at day's end
and a hissing wind
smashes rain around the road
all dim on the horizon
listening from the window,
there's a world full of people
moving, surviving
excessively or barely
in shadows or light
and how they do it
who knows
listening from the window,
old joys linger
I remember what brought me
here
and I think of the faces
that only reappear
in dreams

We are big.
Like mountains.
If I am the mountain side, you were the wild fire.
Hot. Piercing.
Rendering my solid flesh to molten liquid and then to dust.
But only that I might grow again.
And more beautiful than before.

We face our compulsion. Spinning like mad children, in a ring of rosies, dangling dolls in the infinite black of space.
My binary star. My coupled light spinning my opposite.
Twice as bright.
Twice as beautiful.
But from a distance, we seem as one.

Perhaps this soft light I imagine surrounding you are our gods. Mouths open. Shamed by your beauty, that they could not have created you. Only dreamed you into being. They seem like fate, don't they?

And I am consumed with the constant reminder
of your absence. It plays on my tongue like bitter wine.
Leaving me drunk with want and yearning.
And so much more.

And this madness. Like a force undefined. Hurling our bodies. Like freight trains destined to collide. We can be bigger than mountains. We can be the trees and the sky and the pulse and the moon. All lit by twin stars spinning.

Your lack of light is desperate. A quiet void.
If I were a black-hole. You would be the event horizon
of my unmaking.
A voiceless abyss.
Incomplete.
And slowly growing.


If my eyes were moons. You would be my eclipse.

And this pulse. This landscape caught by rhythm. This thump. Like beating bodies. In carnal rhythm. Remembering each caress like history.

You are my legend. Your touch has written confession on my body, that I read like litany. Cuneiform.
Your fingerprint, an ancient code, written on my eyelids. Spoken on the tip of my tongue that I eat like Eucharist. That I drink like communion.

And my morning prayer is a mourning dirge.
Sung like a sailor for your return.
That you might find the wind of my breathlessness
And return to me
once more.
For I am motionless without you.

Yet.
I am mighty. Like wild beasts. I am stronger then before. I grow wise. I expand my eyes to encompass the horizon, that I may see every curve of your landscape. That I may feel every burn of your wild fire.

My longing is armor, that I wear. To conceal my beast. Like desire. Hungry. Waiting.

Tame me.

I miss your mane.
I miss your smell.
I miss your pulse, beating opposite mine.
I miss your light.

My shadow was massive. Stretching to the corner of maps.
My arms, a wingspan, that crossed time. Waiting to encircle you to me.

I have no light to cast a shadow.
I have no reason to fly.
My heart is barren.
Kept vacant for your return.
If not for you then always.
A singular place that once held your step.
A precious palace that you once danced in.

Spin.
Spin, Wildfire.
Devour my skin again with your hungry touch with your wanting kiss.
I wish to be reborn as yours.
Again.

Circle me that we may light the sky again.
And grow our horizons to outstretch the corner of our eyes.
Until we are blind.

Give me sight.
Let me see.
Let me see you.

That we might see our own light.

As one.

As yours.

Burn brighter than before.

More than a month had to fly by since your flight,
And, oh so soon, all banners will raise.
How I long for that most-awaited embrace,
Next thing you know, you’re out the freight.

Regretted that I didn’t bade my farewell,
But hey, didn’t I gave my blessing in advance?
Look at all that I did for music’s entrance,
Prepping myself to face you & sing so swell.

Soon, I won’t have to confide with shying away,
After all the practices alone with a guitar;
Watch me as I unveil my solo performance by par
As one of my biggest steps with gay.

Of course, I won’t be there physically,
Waiting among the flock of people at the air strip.
Then again, I have something for you under my grip,
47 letters of those 47 days I don’t miss naturally.

Instead of giving it all, I just decided
To summarize it all here in this fine piece of poetry,
All I felt, no hint of a parody,
From your departure till you’ve landed.

All this time you’ve been away, it’s tough
And not to mention, all the conundrum that shook me.
Although I’m still not free,
Knowing you’ll be back kept me standing rough.

Though I stood in eternal silence,
I didn’t give it all up for you.
For I know it’s something you wouldn’t do,
And thanks to you, I got out of my own pestilence.

There were other muses who tempted me to forget,
And even deceived me that it’s love.
My eyes opened to discern more like a dove,
Lo and behold, the calendar kept me to count and get.

Now, all the waiting shall bear its fruit,
Oh, I can imagine your plane landing safe
And running on your spikes, away from the knave.
Wait, where’s my gift from your trip that you recruit?

Shall I then honor and obey?
I who only heed the Autumn whispers
That my spirit might flutter and utter
Poetry who is the wife and master
Of my piercing eyes of December

Now I am filled, with happiness and quiet
I’ll hold you even dear, you passing friends
I have found my pilgrimage shelter
The gold-hammered love of words
It’s enough for me, to write a while

In encrimsoned freshening dew
For Autumn soft-wind-twisted leaves
And emotions in the freight of my heart
That abides by wild beasts, forest brothers
I take all these into my good report for keeps

And do not ask the Lord for anything
I am self-sufficient in my lonely work
And I kiss the cruelty of fate at every turn
No little thing to barter one’s life with
A little art, forsaken love of something

That brings no direct external profit
Only a sense of what the seasons serve
My Amageddon’s vast terrific hour.

If I could breathe at all
I would breath fire
I would squeeze my eyes as tight as they could go
so tight
supernovas burn my irises
I would stand in front of a dusty mirror
speckled with hairspray residue
trying to be pretty, gotta be pretty
I would turn my face up to a low popcorn ceiling
(I'm suffocating)
My adams apple paling in the stale winter light
I would smile a wicked smile
it's cynical, it's hysterical
and I'd look back down
into eyes that have long lost a light
my freight train lips
always on course to smile
heading over the edge
and the cars are all smashing
metal twisting
the brakes have failed
I have failed.
I inhale
my smile parts
and flames curl around the mirrors edges
flames scorch my face
and the train is gone, burning in the bottom of a smokey abyss
off the bridge, off my rocker.

the breast
the mother
is able
to keep.

the healthcare.

the train
lazily
unassigned

to freight or passenger.

the repressed memory
I think I have
of my oversexed
split

personality.  that I verbally assault

with my better
puppet

hand.

A crack and a clap of thunder                                                          ­      
Makes you jump                                                             ­                       
Steam rolling off the cement                                                           ­           
In tidal waves of fog                                                              ­                    
The scent of freshly washed                                                           ­           
Leaves and pavement                                                         ­                     
Fresh in flared nostrils                                                         ­                 
The sound of the downpour                                                         ­         
Slaps your ears with splats                                                           ­             
Of condensation                                                     ­                               
But then the clouds rumble by                                                          
Freight train roaring                                                          ­                    
Full steam ahead                                                            ­                          
Lightening striking    
So close you can smell the
Burning scorch
Of electric
And then gone in a wisp of smoke

We the people of America say killing is against the law! In defense, chilling either condensed killing! I further write to all, including the eluding law! As I chat, what of biblical and tribal law? That clever severed lucky monkey’s paw, ma and pa. We the people of America the cranky, the donkeys and the funny. The grumpy, the honey the
honkies and the hungry! The junkies, the money, the stinky and the

sunny! We the people of America, achieving, breathing, breeding, cheating, dreaming, feeding, feeling and freezing! We the people of America our delights, fights, flights, freight, heights and plight. Our allies, byes, cries, despises and disguises. Our lies, outcries our skies,
spies, ties and wise. We the people of America preying and slaying the weak, the meek and those who seek, every day of the week. The able,

the-benign, the blind, the disabled, the labeled and unkind. We the people of America of awesome, blossom, fearsome, freedom, gruesome, handsome and loathsome! We the people of America of
desire, fire, inspire and perspire! We the people of America will this still be the sum of our capture and rapture? Another frightful chapter with spiteful laughter thereafter. Our concern, discern and yearn of

foil, oil, soil, spoil, toil and turmoil! We the people of America verily I quote; let’s cope in hope to clearly and fairly vote! Every race and trace must face and disgrace this war-race. The displaced and misplaced the fast, last, past and vast. The adored, the gore, the ignored, the poor, the sore and the ******; we the people of America.

you ask me what i remember from the time those photographs
were taken and i will tell you:
nothing.

i do not remember the bittersweet wounds
i carved into so-called flesh, no
i do not recall the sleepless nights spent
wailing for mother to come back with arms
outstretched apologies rolling off the tongue, no
i do not remember the bones that ached
the swollen jaws
the inhale-exhale-inhale-hoping it would be
my last, no
i do not recall the fleeting lovers, the restlessness disguised as
wanderlust, no
i do not remember bonding with strangers in our
ignorant comas  nor do i recall
telling you you mattered to me
when you so clearly did not, no
i do not recall the lagging thud-thud of my
failing freight train heartbeat
i do not recall the passing days that handcuffed me to the
pride of being functional
i do not recall the futile retracing of my
weary footsteps
nor the devastating  discovery of the melted snow
i do not remember the betrayal nor the heartbreak
that trampled over me when you left
nor do i recall telling you i was sorry
when i so clearly was not.

you ask me what i remember from the time those photographs
were taken and i will tell you:
i was empty.
i remember nothing.

If actions speak louder than words,
Then the quieter I get
the louder I become.

Soon I'll be screaming

At the bottom of my lungs.

Until even my whisper deafens.

With the wave of my hand,
I'll be louder than a freight train.

Every step I take,
Will sound like a stampede.

The further I go,
The closer it will seem.

Maybe then,
When each step shakes the pictures from your walls,
Every look left and then right rips the door from the frame you're standing under,
And my deepest breath blows the whole house down

You'll hear me.

I am reminded of the cliché
"It hit me like a freight train."
But honestly, have you ever seen a freight train?
Those things make a **** ton of noise,
They're absolutely ginormous,
And they're not that fast.
You would have to be blind, deaf, and ******* stupid to get hit by one.

So no, the pain doesn't hit like a freight train.
It hits like a avalanche.
You're just sitting there, minding your own business
When suddenly, you begin to feel the thunderous roar.
Before you even realize what's about to happen
You're engulfed in the crippling agony,
keeled over, begging for death.

All this because you wanted some ice cream.

(In some semblance of order)

(1967 to 1975)

kittens
carpet burns
fear
WGN presents “One-Eyed Jacks” starring Marlon Brando
my grandmother’s basement
slaps from my mother
fear
kicks from my father
fear
Nerf basketball
10CC “I'm Not in Love”
fear

(1976 to 1980)

sunny, cool, fall days
the woods on Sundays
tall green grass
raised red seams on a baseball
fear
Tickle Pink wine
the smell of hashish
the buzz of high tension wires
Stroh's beer, pull tab tall boys
the woods at night
the breeze through the car window
her breath in my ear
fear

(1981 to 1988)

“Footloose” starring Kevin Bacon
Michelob Light in bottles
extra spicy guacamole
fear
“Members Only” black jacket
para mutual wagering
*******
4 seam fastball
fear
the garlic taste of Dimethyl Sulfoxide (DMSO)
a 91 mph fastball
Feldene dissolved in Dimethyl Sulfoxide and applied to my skin via a tongue depressor
my 93.5 mph fastball
the roar of the crowd
fear
October
the swirling light and sound of a west Texas freight train at night in fog
Jesus Christ
fear

(1989 to 1999)

the anticipation of child #1
the birth of child #2
6 hours of uninterrupted sleep after child #3
an 8mm obstructed kidney stone
fear
morphine
fear
Vicodin
fear
sunny, cool, fall days
“The Road Less Traveled” by M Scott Peck
hydrocodone
fear
the woods in fall
thunder
******
fear
the woods in winter
the rumble of Niagara Falls
******
fear
Oxycontin
shame
******
fear
“Ruthless Trust” by Brennan Manning
the woods in spring
The Stanley Cup
fear

(2000 to 2004)

detox
nostalgia of my youth
photos of my children as children
hydrocodone
detox
fear
Jose Cuervo silver tequila
sunny, cool, spring days
Major League Baseball opening day
Jose Cuervo Gold tequila
fear
Chinaco Reposado tequila
the stench of pavement
Gran Patron tequila
the heat of pavement
Herradura Anejo tequila
detox
hydrocodone
fear
Marca Negra Mezcal
detox
AA meetings
Oxycontin
fear
Alice in Chains “Down in a Hole”
detox
nostalgia for opiates
fear

(2005 to 2007)

AA meetings
Camel 99's
her infidelity
fear
photos of my children as children
Camel 99's
the sweet, sweet voice of Martin Sexton
AA meetings
shame
regret
fear
Suboxone
regret
shame
fear

(2008 to 2010)

the tenderness of your touch
a king size memory foam mattress
the tenderness of your touch
Amerique Verte Absinthe
fear
discussions with the dead
the tenderness of your touch
Ray Lamontagne “Winter Birds”
the tenderness of your touch
ablution by Amerique Verte Absinthe
fear
visions of the dead
fear
visits from the dead

(2011 to 2014)

their forgiveness
AA meetings
Camel 99's
my inability to sleep
fear
www.hellopoetry.com
the tenderness of your touch
the tenderness of your touch
the tenderness of your touch
the tenderness of your touch
fear
Centenario Reposado tequila
regret
Tramadol in large amounts
regret
thoughts of you leaving me
thoughts of me being left alone
thoughts of you being left alone
regret

nothing
nothing
nothing

the words I have just written

darkness

fear

We grew the earth, grew it around us and grew into it.
We grew into pairs of shoes after pairs of shoes
and we grew into our names.
We learnt to tie the laces of our shoes
and to tie our tongues around our names,
and the names of other things, other people,
and around other people's tongues.

We planted our cultures, cultivated them,
and they blossomed into traditions
and stereotypes and generalisations and rituals.

We broke in our shoes, broke the ice,
broke our voices, broke promises.
We broke glasses, hearts and bones.

We built hierarchies, looked up, looked down, bowed down.
We broke down into dictatorships and demonstration.
We found solutions like democracy
and diplomas and delegated.

We fixed fountains and freight trains
and falling trees in the forest and faucets that leaked.
We formed partnerships, made promises,
pledged to parties for both politics and both parents.
We made marriage and then we annulled, we divorced.
We fabricated the faiths that we fed on.

We invented stopwatches, reality television,
pedicures, lampshades, philosophy,
greenhouses, dictionaries, exclusivity,
feng shui, hand-holding, ****** medication,
street art, lawsuits, lingerie, car boot sales,
snow days, karaoke, comics, psychics,
boarding schools, toast, baseball, psychiatry,
bird-watching, plaid, research, stag nights,
slasher movies, salads, and interventions.

We wanted and we wished and we waited
and we wanted for more.
We were growing faster than we invented.

We were outgrowing ourselves
and our earth
and our shoes
and our names.

We forgot what we had found and fixed and formed.
We broke down and went broke.
We are waiting to invent a new way we can fix ourselves.

Pay our dues so you can write for someone else to help you out
What a crock of dog ****
I thought these words were coming from the muse?
The cherry wine orchards where birds soar for free
Are now taxed burned maimed and *****
So you can record yourself on some 10 cent tape
Either the lines are drawn and the combines have stormed through
Or the men and women behind the pens
Have truly lost their way
But what was a way before they decided to come and stay
We are all ****** in the end
Either to the Gods above or to the men with guns
Who are we if we are not fighting for the sun?
Absurdity in the tenth degree!
You want fire to cool your soul and love to make you bold!
Shame on the service entry fees with complaints of their boss
I write these things with irreversible electronic blood!
And if you saw me you wish that you'd never did!
Pom Pom girls break their bread as the football players shine their sleds
I'm in my bed wishing she was with me instead
Ram that note up your hole **** it up and see if its any better
The hall is broken the coolers dead landlords knocking
Where on Earth are you gonna go?
Mama's done gone and daddy's already dead
Sisters got a wisher with a pencil filled with lead
Streets are searing hot
And the backdoor to your house is locked
Let me have the key
And I'll surely make you believe
Lets stay up late an' we'll catch the next freight
Spend some time with me an' I'll teach you the meaning of hate
Wooden stool pigeons leaking blood on their eyes
A sigh colored brown
When you sleep baby
You don't make no sound
Wash basic red hedonistic hearings
Crystal nail polish with agate colored earrings
When a place is a place of comfort
Thats the end of your start
Stars shine so the blind may be able to see
I got women who know me and men who hate me
When I meet you
Which one will you be?
Soft fire ******* lick was the way you kissed
Your hands warmed from the liquor you said
On the porch you said I'd doused your torch
Where I then said "Love hurts when touched"

I'm a reckless mistake
I'm a cold night's intake
I'm a one night too long
Imma come on too strong

All my life
I've been living in the fast lane
Can't slow down,
I'm a rollin' freight train

One more time,
Gotta start over
Can't slow down,
I'm a lone red rover

Imma hold my cards close
Imma wreck what I love most
I'm a first class let down
I'm a shut up sit down

I am a head case
I am the color of boom that's never arriving
And you are the pay raise
Always a touch out of view
And I am the color of boom

All my life
I've been living in the fast lane
Can't slow down,
I'm a rollin' freight train

One more time,
Gotta start over
Can't slow down,
I'm a lone red rover

How did it come to this?
Love is a polaroid
Better in a picture
But never can fill the void

the moon brings life
to the wolf and owl
and it brings out the joy
of the midnight fowl

it lights up the night
like the sun does the day
its brightness for some
is just the only way

its beauty surrounded
by the dark dark night
and the stories make kids
feel nothing but freight

and the people believe
we should sleep while its out
and miss the true feeling
that the moons all about

Eyelash blinkered in hubris Rubik’s knight
Elevation of pogrom ennobled by triaged triumph minus the cynic summation of all light
Littoral swank bronzed like starlet fantasia with a Carey mountaintop jeer
Reichstag extinguished blaring sirens of cacophony capers to benumbed Linkin Park cheer
Knells intrepid by quakes of remonstrance staged in histrionic applause
Southern Colonies shifting in Charleston surgical in orderly slugabed dogged laws
Slipshod through ribbacles of rengall zenkidu among the sertivine poison ivy
Grimace at gamboled rivulets of a moribund Vanilla Sky for departed wiseacres of savvy dicey ICE toxic Harvey Dent slimy
A mannequin Marx Ralph alienated the truest alien by pioneering disdain of a hostage giraffe summiting a Swiss Alp
Master of time 12th bradycardia for Generator design parked beneath escarpments of base aphasia milquetoast in killjoy Strickland nickels away from a gubbertushed mouth
LOST legend enunciating the furor of epochs of egalitarian traipse
Trapped by the bootlick of a wrinkle of Van Winkle revolutionary agape
Curved by soliliquy master of belletrist prose
The vogue can’t help but bunt, balk, denounce the remembrance of Lady Madonna pose
We beat the muckrakers of rummaged lisp of culinary suns that the sons of privilege are emoluments to apolaustic zeal first known to transmogrified nuns, before the poppies made the few into many and the notion of an insuperable line of infinity into a spherical nullification of the concept of none
Estrapade engorges the fustilug magnet of the kitsch Kenosha Chicago Demolition drive-by-derbies “once read”
That two kings one Titanic by skin-color dashed dreams the other both the coins of tails eloped with heady dreams of head
Sacrifice shadow dancing with pettifoggery in slumps of aboriginal dances of marsupial rice
Native to extortion gouged blind as Samson exacts lachrymose cremations of Pikes Peak trick-or-treat aghast with fright
Temples raised in 46 years cemented never in the Mumbo Jumbo politics of those lacking the oceanic schadenfreude among queers
That by their exclusion the panmixia of fluid alchemy is dauntless scrabble limited by NORAD notions of Tears for Fears
Henpecked rooster awakens the serfdom of Ronald’s (sly spy) Drugs sailing with dovetails of elapse downtrodden in modern clubs
Drunken *** addict sell-out charlatans berated  by Ingram Angles sent by maleficence are the grubhub of Harriet Tubman torching promising tapestries with rugged rugs
Slinging the bait of fish-hook dimples on freckled effigies of ****** humiliation outmantled by Mickey weight
I thunder a fulgurant explosion against recrimination of white-collar criminals that philander saturnalia in pretense with facetious swarpollock freight
Crooks of tyranny exhort the paranoiacs of indemnity to sunken canned soup applause of a Warhol extortion
Berating my audience with drooling slavers of inelegant tortoise byzantine like an Istanbul dredged with intortion
Mr Deeds is not a champion of BRE Properties nor the pinnacles of inertia, a psychiatric squeeze
My orange juice is not a car chase against treecheese in terminal punitive disease
Soaring with the prosperous tongue against the walloped nativism of pounced impounds having too much fun
I let the other guardians of the order of salvation pivot vitriol in loaded dice against Orangutans of Swedish minted gum
Caesar died for the seizure of Anglican pride of a namesake percolating millenia for Brutus in the Washington Bullets of a conquered Ottawa on strike carnal with Chauvinism in regional divide
Never has there been a more hollow trope than the agency of deep state defamation of a scurrilous backbite of gnashing pride
Lost to pollster tricks of acquiescence and caricatures of a menacing personage Swift on the Riff but never the snarling Menace of a Blondie Biff
I tower above the anthills of conformity of luxury in Jamaican Bob Sled Teams testing the curiosity of enlightened “What Ifs”
Canada Dry for striking people enthused by Rye abides in the memory of reform that skulks the skunks that make every Scudworth cry
Because a Dental Dam damsel living in streets of peril fascinated by distance is the contortion of entreaty in the pasquinade of attempts at American Pie
May the city of a figurative crucifixion burn with the irony of a thousand suns as Wendy’s burgers unload on prejudice with albatrosses of winsome puns
Fixed data interpolated by convenient lies of serial killers who aim for blue skies shanked in Oswald infamy for the imposture of any flashbang revenge against cinematic guns
I blacklist the Zemeckis villainy as a trudge of travesty
Hedged lies blinkered by Batman and Robin puns redeemed by Dinosaurs of Amnesty
Obviously belittled by futures etched by a more honest infinity
Because 88 keys are not a stroke because the infinite bees know the parlance of divinity
Invited lissome taxidermies of Capone against teetotalers of parvanimity of vainglory overthrown
Showers the honest hominist reckoning of a world where neither crudity of know-nothing radical polarization owns every inept baritone
Crusading a secular war because the gubbertushed eccedentesiast spinsters of Santa Cruz deserve a gassy overtone
Torch the SC Pacific Avenue for peace
Let the world unite behind a singularity with purpose in ventilation of Speedman’s release
That antithetical Jacks of many names are wed with the progeny of enduring lists of NSA protection rather than rentgourge Denver PD eager to chaos decimated by the decimals of a region forever boycott and impeached
To the decisive curling of the frolicked Abandoned Pool servitude crass disasters are the sheol of impudent flagrant overreach
Regnant on the turmoil of invented throne
I scowl at the chicanery of Capone’s Chicago sweltering with Kenosha infamy tossing contortionist strippers a vulcanized bone in a DIA Diamond that even 11,500 years of knowledge is surpassed in condemnation of screaming E.T. calling the right home
Speak Now because the reach of forever is God appeased not by a kowtow but a mobilized ambition for Why? When? And How?
History will remember gentility as the kind steward rather than a Disco Demolition Derby of urbacity venerating a seasonal Golden Cow
Hipsters flock with folly to South African extortion for freebooters who bootlick the aceldama of war against the sublime currency of a winner surrounded by thugs
TOO MANY URBAN KIDS ARE TAUGHT BY REDUCTIVE TAUTOLOGY TO HATE The United States of America RATHER THAN NURTURING SYNCRETISM IN PATRIOTIC HUGS
Imperfect in design with disagreement in plainest sight
Sometimes libertarianism with a Democratic twinge is clearly in the right that should believe in reform even when the footloose girouettism is too tight
Yet forestalled for authentic grit the grisly rentgourge of venal abysses knows the countermand against Rand with hyperboles of the clearest *******
The true flock congregates around scepters built not with militant graft but a promenade of sultry dance for the defiant C.L.I.T.
Exercise with the Rock knowing school buses of dogmatism inferior are distraught
Dying dogmatism is a peacock of industry the yeggs can easily unlock rather than truckle with truculent Scottish Rites tasty with Connery Scotch
Defenders of the misleading staircase because of the carapace of Hovering pertinacity easily won and bought
Neither scary nor deliberate streets are rumpus of elevations of unbounded anarchy considerate but robbed by the illiterate
That the delegated mansion will be robbed by the cooperation of the remorseful idiot recognizing his snide mendaciloquence in destructive Roswell Records limerick
Scowls are on petrol and patrol hoping Tesla is a short of bravado too intrepid to sanction free-for-all profligacy in alleys that bowl
To the Emerald Street lie of hypes of perdition rather than merely a seasonal token embarrassment coal
The fossilized future is the irrevocable past because more respect is needed than the ***** of a maskirovka caste
Diamond Lightning in Bhagavad Gita prancing with the delusion of the everlasting mummification of Brawndo ash
Dinner with Egyptsy malingers on tomes etched flippant in integrity and all about the curated snare of kitsch cash
The cache valley of LASER tag shattered like Joseph Smith flagellating the confederate hayday with articulate gnash
Fast & Furious the amused by Suburban subway know the trailblazer trashes of The Stupids’ being Einstein about Boogie Dubs rather rash
Streaking through a Tucker rule the Buccaneers live for the SoulSeek of a riddled ruler benighted of prerogative of Roger Goodell bumping in his Ferrari the tucked serenade of Tool
Wrong band because they linger in the shadow dancing backpages of scandals of Norweigan hourglasses of shameful hush hush Vikings mining furloughs of pulverized anticipation sand
Humbled retinue shelves the ossified limpid droll drool
As the haze of submarines scouting pridefall galls of indolence betraying innocence becomes moral cigarettes of Menthol Kool
Reparations for chappy chapstick games of bowery riches
The urbane needs to read, discern and maneuver against whiplash found in Navi witches
Swapping homes with crack addict legalese an *** to a bronzed party crackling with cackles Home Alone
Knows a toiletry of escape gullible like Seahawks wishing they could contain a fumbled season by Mahomes
Jones methamphetamine paranoiac manure desiccated by folksy homilies of brimstone cremation deserts his flock to abide by a flagging wayward temptress
Decimated by the agency of time his Austin crenellation flounders in grimace of the untimely swoon his covert empress
Blinded by the light of darkness in subversion
Excoriated for the deeds of his permission to demote commotion into only an acquiescent dance with barbed etch-a-sketch conclusion- a half-baked *******
Quacksalver poetaster wrinkled with hatred simpering paranoia strangled by Hendrix abeyance of turgid delusion
Lurid underground Princeton gilds infested with defected dementia in cozens in the fritty of heralded mistress SHE appointed
Sandlot ravens cloistered the bravado of thirst for chosen words scrappy in clawed henpecks the pointless illegal sanctioned to brusque witticism anointed
Lamps of pathway sparkle with coruscated stargazer Winslet dreamy swank illustrious by providence
Engrenage of delopes of pettifoggery identity staggers the woozy dismal day of disjointed wounds on Native sons Denver can’t damage in a lonely campaign for the prodigal bends of Overlook Lorraine Motel bent
Intrepid in gallantry I swoop the scrivello tusked with might
Penetrating the vivid dreams of the serenade of alpenglow daylight
That love might rule over chance and probability above the specter of dynasty prodigy progeny tithing gravity in rent
Yet this taper of majestic poise will outfox even the careless gambles of the prodigal son Mr Sender already traipsed conquered and went
The mountaintop is so clear from the cloister of authenticity drinking Eminence Front of the WHO rather than the coherence of the near
Because titans shepherd the good flock without insult and not quavering with insuperable time flackey with tremulous fear
I dare this day to outlast benighted ignorance of the narrow gate of a persecution tsunami on a Lisbon tear
Because galloping ahead of the internecine sheds the serpentine craft of 3:1 Genesis met with the worst fleeced fleer
Not auctioned off like ******* vogue to the disfavor of poor taste
I am the true Royal Flush that can always count on the aced basic but mostly acidic flourish of a jest in bass predicated on the basis for Mozart pH
Today could be the summit of acclimated prodigy in startled degrees temerity could never bet against
Because you better bet the Bros and Cos of civilization are skilled in ostentation of Sterling Pound defense
Never offensive to the liturgy of triumph beckoning an apocalypse now tentative memory on a Manifest Destiny frontier rarely on wickers of extinguished cattle ranchers knowing the gamut of acumen to defend a fortress with the best fencing James Bond could dispense
Now is either a cordial joke of a flagrant anarchy balking at destiny
Or the sunrise majesty of the twelve tribes and beyond defeating the stingy bees of infamy
Your choice doesn’t defeat my voice
But your action heralds my loyalty with a triumphant Victoria of an age not for agelast geeks intimidated but living clairvoyance with fidelity to the right choice for the right time to swim in elegant rejoice
(1977 Words)

when no mornings
follow nights
cities lie without their lights
little beasts root happily
children can live all their fears
   forests break
   mountains shake
then it’s time again

rockets roar with deadly freight
sharp explosions rock the night
   soldiers shoot
   graveyards bloom
it is war

when scrawny skeletons
creep through the streets
parents weep
dead bodies radiate
   new death
and crumpled shapes
   spread more disease
then it’s time again

the general orders strategic attacks
and watches how the metropolis cracks
   rivers stink
   battleships sink
it is war

when the bakers bake no more bread
when the butchers chop off their hands
when the doctors’ only prescription is death
   corpses float in the village pond
   and supermarkets stay closed
         24 hours a day
then it’s time again

maybe the ultimate time
for the warriors to storm from their heights
to the valleys to lance and destroy
   they also **** women
   all children are dead
   the moon is all red
   the stars are so wan

   we are counting the corpses
   as long as we can

   it is war

             * *

Feeling like I'm out of control
Like a truck racing down
A slippery course
With its brakes lost
And theres no hope in stopping
Who's going to stop me now?

Who will stop me now?

I feel like a bullet
Shot from a gun
Piercings everyones hearts
Upset with what I've done
And how I've done wrong
How will I erase this now?

How?

I feel like, Im running on empty
Like my gas light is blinking
I feel like I am going crazy
Because I'm stuck always walking back
But I know it's only temporary
I'm just really trying to adapt.

Adapt.

I'm tumbling out of control
Like a gymnast bending into a fold
Sky diving into the floor
My parachute won't open
At least for me anymore.

No more.

I've used people
To get what I want
But now I'm lonely at the top
And yelled at
The people I love
Because money was my happiness
But money isn't love.

Money isn't love.

Where am I going
Where have I been
Running in circles
Again and again

Trying to get things done
Do these things matter to me
Most of the stuff I can’t even see

So why do I keep running
I’m going crazy in my head
Soon I won’t be able to get out of bed

Slow it down, I keep telling myself
What’s the rush, there isn’t one
No one cares, I’m the only one

Burnout is coming, it’s like a freight train
I have to slow down, stop fighting my brain
Or I will surely,
Go Insane…