Every night his head rests on me
Each day  weight of thoughts and burdens grow
Can no one honestly see?
His desire for happiness and life will no longer flow
Alone, trapped in a nightmare
Waiting for the fall and wake
He's created his own lair
And wont let anyone in for their own sake
All I can do here is sit and watch
Oh look, what a surprise, another knotch
His sorrow flattening me
I think its time for people to see...

We don't know we're young
which is a shame
because we would take things less seriously
live the lives
that others would want to experience vicariously
we would stop pretending
to have self respect;
we haven't earned it yet,
too busy
trying to impress others
"friends"
when really
they don't care,
just want us
to make the calls
so they don't look out of place-
if we knew we were young
we would embrace every breath
knowing that it is as clear and pure as it will ever be
that it won't get better
our bodies are in their best condition
top knotch
they want to be appreciated by other bodies
and should be
but not when they're too close for comfort
and even then
most of all
learning that we are young
that we are getting old
makes the cringes all the more worthwhile

If only she would die with me—
Lying a bed on a sheet of stars,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

Our leaves to hold in rings of tree,
Hair entwined in ocean days hour,
If only she would die with me—

In the forest fern to rest, wake curly,
We would nest in that place so far,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

To ever knotch a simple tapestry,
Colours even sun could not mar,
If only she would die with me—

In this morning all spark wants to be,
What our bodies are joined in marking,                      
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

We two have eyes blistering to see
And winds that tail the song of larks,
If only she would die with me—
Out of mere dark, dear light set free.

She covers me like frost when it sets in fresh,
I've been barely breathing since the day she almost left.
I've been at a stand still in quicksand; sinking fast,
I wish I could take a pill to let go of the past.

The blame game, has got it's newest saint,
forever in denial of all mistakes.
The blame game, always takes on my name,
forever in debt for all heartbreaks.

My visible breath spills secrets of another life,
a person you've never met but call your wife.
Brokenhearted and destined to be a knotch on a long, long belt,
Dearly departed with distance and it's the closest you've ever felt.

The blame game, has gained it's newest saint,
forever forgetting the dealt pain.
The blame game, takes on none the same,
forever drowning in the falling rain.

She paints me solid in the blackest of tar,
I fell for all of it but fell down too far.
There is something left but just too small to ever grasp,
I won't be the one to confess, with my dying rasp.

( Villanelle )*

If only she would die with me—
Lying a bed on a sheet of stars,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

Our leaves to hold in rings of tree,
Hair entwined in ocean days hour,
If only she would die with me—

In the forest fern to rest, wake curly,
We would nest in that place so far,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

To ever knotch a simple tapestry,
Colours even sun could not mar,
If only she would die with me—

In this morning all spark wants to be,
What our bodies are joined in marking,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

We two have eyes blistering to see
And winds that tail the song of larks,
If only she would die with me—
Out of mere dark, dear light set free.

If only she would die with me—
Lying a bed on a sheet of stars,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

Our leaves to hold in rings of tree,
Hair entwined in ocean days hour,
If only she would die with me—

In the forest fern to rest, wake curly,
We would nest in that place so far,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

To ever knotch a simple tapestry,
Colours even sun could not mar,
If only she would die with me—

In this morning all spark wants to be,
What our bodies are joined in marking,                      
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

We two have eyes blistering to see
And winds that tail the song of larks,
If only she would die with me—
Out of mere dark, dear light set free.

If only she would die with me—
Lying a bed on a sheet of stars,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

Our leaves to hold in rings of tree,
Hair entwined in ocean days hour,
If only she would die with me—

In the forest fern to rest, wake curly,
We would nest in that place so far,
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

To ever knotch a simple tapestry,
Colours even sun could not mar,
If only she would die with me—

In this morning all spark wants to be,
What our bodies are joined in marking,                      
Out of mere dark, our light set free,

We two have eyes blistering to see
And winds that tail the song of larks,
If only she would die with me—
Out of mere dark, dear light set free.

she was jest one knotch too weird wired for regular folk
her
smile was sorta crooked,
'til she grinned,
then
the whole ****** room lit up like

Christmas Eve and New York New Year on TV

she was thereafter ever after I vanished
in the undamming of the flow,
past the weir on Tenant's Creek.

We walked in the moonlight,
to a famous cavern
where,
Dreamtime, dust stirred in the cave...
hear the sea?

way yonder, hear the ocean?
Sh, touch the dust, ashes of the past,
roll in the dust.
choke
cough choke joke joke
you pass
you pass heko heko finiinish wink.

Morning
Wood pecker rythmn in a hummingbird realm,
one two three for five six seb

seberal cebral lesions appear, pop-outa-gno-where

evil imaginations in your hear, dear reader,
go binge all Purge movies,

then rewatch five seasons of that sup-augmented
puppy show, where each episode is a win,
for the
favorite, in any any child's hierarchy of worth.
Paw
Patrol verses Oscars Oasis--
Get some goodoldfashion ethotical archeo-types
Etched in acid,
splashed in face of the diva asking ever who who who

is fairest of the fair?
not fair?

har har har, fair's fair, in Love 'n' War glory stories,

that end well, all's well.
That ends.

Next is no longer just
around the corner... this junction is some

past all that. Here is where
the rubber met
the road,

the one that leaked and changed reality
for me.

Whereas, hereafter, here

is relative, meaning related, as in linked,
en-tangled,
tied
to you there now.

Here, we arrive on a time, as all fine stories do.

We step lively, where no angel fears to tread, ever,
as you must know, by now,
ever
is a word's own being manifested in meaning
all the same
to you
dear, as in worth the effort to look for and hold, in the having
state, of meaning,
dear reader, we made history blink.

Missle warfare, in our culture, came before the giant fell.

Shepherds and irrigators used slings, and other throwing
ob jects, sub ject e ject

juxtapose sup-positive positioning, do we think we

or be we? Wu, woo way, woo.

You up for this. It is live, this thread we walk along up
right un aware of wind or rain or storm,

no dry nib scratch, no drip of black on the illumination,
no breeze to blow plains of gold one atom thick

as a leaf, gold leaf, who'dathunk that?

A teller of tales talking to a peacock feather from a carcass
coyotes left by the road.

Ed Teller told me, some things called quantum and strange,
are simple has human beings,
there's the humus part, and the being part.

Art and science, sorta.

The trope is no differnt than when Gulliver was breathed
into our earth wide disneyfied minds,

give peace a chance,
alls, we are saying, is give peace a chance.

And when the boomers are taken down a knotch or two,
a tic, tic, re calibrate

focus
thumbnail, zoom in on the eye in the thumbnail

to the gleem in the eye,

reflecting a Pepsi being poured into a Coke, with a Real Thing,

Giant sticker stuck stickily can't shake it take it oooo

no just any
body, don't you want some body to love? Roar or

was that a flash,
that was a genuine pshahdelic flash back on an out of zone
experience,
who knew? Boundaries are the best parts of bubbles.