i wanted to learn your thoughts. like an astrologer studying the stars. seeking answers in the mystic. the unknown. to observe in pure adoration. i wanted to tattoo my name across your skin. a mark with a meaning. and memory. but you are tattoo shy. and you do not believe in the power of the universe. you do not commit. and so, i left. full of too many unanswered prayers. wishes gone un-granted. i left. maybe you were not supposed to be my next adventure.

She's a star that fades not, even in daylight
Sun that shines bright in the pitch of the night
an exhilarating adventure on an endless path
an antique jewel of tremendous worth.
She's the calm after a ferocious storm
a mystic place metamorphosed into an affable home
a fragrant red rose in the rain with some bit of thorns
yet a clear pond carpeted by a ballet of snow white swans
She's classical music harmoniously retailed by a violin
tectonics whose cosmic shifts made my melancholic existence spin
a euphonic crescendo of hope that finally entrapped
the cacophonous diminuendos of my despair
She's an ice cold drink on a sweltering day, a breath of fresh air...
a durable canvas upon which I've drawn life lessons
an intricate piece of heaven, she's an artistic impression.

Sympathetic empathas saying words,
That are read from a script,
No one knew how to write,
It's early and cars,
Driving to,
Another paid bill,
Or whatever Thomas said,
Expierences fulfilled by fuel,
Maybe they aren't driving,
Or drinking,
might just be,
making babies in the,
Basement,
Or whatever Keats said,
Distantly dancing,
To kindergarteners and,
cancer patients,
Just another Thursday,
With mystic music,
Lofting around,
The empty dance halls,
Falling up,
With Christopher Robbins,
To the stars,
The bus is on time
Or whatever Dylan said.

In Mystic they have built a park in honor of the memory
of Grace McDonnell who was killed at Sandy Hook Elementary.
Elsewhere in Connecticut are playgrounds built to honor them;
the children and the teachers slain, so that we will remember when.
These innocents we could not save have playgrounds where they never played.
These bittersweet memorial parks are a sad remembrance of that day.
We saw their pictures, heard their names, our hearts brimmed full with sad remorse.
For twenty six children who were killed before their lives could run their course.

There are so many others dead, lost lives that we don’t celebrate;
56 million at last count- not one playground in any State.
There are few pictures, they have no names, their humanity; denied of course.
Inconvenient little lives put down like dogs with no remorse.
How different would our nation be? Perhaps a touch less old and gray?
Instead we have built playgrounds where far fewer children get to play.

Forsake me not Love
For I need your flame
When desire dims wisdom
And conscience yields candle rays
Forsake me not
For I need your fuel
When my blood wilts to climb
The precipice of salvation
Forsake me not
When I stray off your path
I'm just a lowly creature
Amused by the woods
Forsake me not
When pride gets the better of me
I need your cloak of kindness
To ward off evil attire.

You are a mystic light
Impeding sweep of disaster
Keep me nigh and let me linger
In the magic of your trust.

~



Staring,
as I often do
This distant place of wondering

Afforded of a mystic view
Raising flags,
woven free upon the wind

Across the sea

In your pocket
to remain
A piece of me in charms upon
a silver coated chain

Floating of its own ebb and soul
Waving as forever comes
Sent of lost and feathered shore
Grinning ear to ear

Taken from a prison camp
Framed in ocean’s mist
Found and lost and found again

Something I can not resist

Each day I reach,
in lengthened gathered steam
Drinking of a lemon scent
and foaming parakeets

Dancing on the beach of wings
Searing on the feet
Floundering, dreaming, asking…

When will you come to me

Fingers shade the sun
Bleaching on its way
Bountiful of endless love

So, so far away

This distant place of wondering
As I often do,
staring

Hoping to find you

On a mid summer’s day if the north wind blows
The sun goes hiding rain nests on eyebrows
You are madly joyous at this topsy-turvy
Your mind goes cartwheeling you feel carefree!
The weather turns cool blessed by the rain
Freeing your limbs from the summer's pain
The sky loses fierceness wearing the cloud’s tone
You are tempted to run wild in gay abandon!
By some mystic touch the day turns angel
Don’t touch it too hard don’t remove her veil
Drink the day softly go and have your fill
A god-gifted summer’s day with unexpected chill!

A boulevard where vagabonds swim
Is lined with Thracian women weeping
Swaying gently in the wind
With portraits of headless young men
Suspended on String, they are
In pursuit of tenebrous dreams
Whose shadow soft illusion lights
Yet the colour of black eludes
Amidst the debris of this magic and mystic charm
Forging hidden truths leaving light and darkness
In appeal to unreasoned thought that splinter sound
Leaving only tarnished echo floating effortlessly in tragic space
Notions negotiate and migrate in terrible turmoil
Not able to understand chaos corrodes
Human rust that eats the soul
With gnawing knowledge of emptiness
Creates a vacuum in the heart
That leaves cold the heat of happiness
Proclaiming despair its God
Points an accusing finger and brands us unclean
Impure, none persons, where is the colour of black

No one really knows what's wrong with you
No one really knows what they are supposed to do.

The doctor gave you Zoloft
The counselor gave you cognitive therapy
The priest gave you confession
The devil gave you credence

And still they are asking me.

She's so strange and deliberate
She seems to be a mystic

But no one really knows what's wrong with you.

They call you from the mountains
They shout at you from the seas
They say your name in harmony

But no one really knows what's wrong with you (and me?)

You get them all so angry
You get them all so scared

You leave them all in poverty
You fulfill all their greedy dreams.

You leave them on their knees praying to a serial killer.

They scream at you in silence
They whisper to the stars
They demand you to be their guidance
Their claim to victory.

But no one really knows what's wrong with you.

They hold you so dear
They stroke you so tenderly
They bite you on the breast
They pummel you to rest.

When they are dying for that last breath
They want to know

No one really knows what's wrong with you.

They came to me and asked me
I told them what I knew
But I was never right about much of anything
I just told them what they knew

They were all in agreement
That there is something kind of wrong with you...

Eschewing that second thought,
let me tell you what I truly sought
come, lock me up in your heart
you, I've no doubt  is a true despot

I don't hold back, life is way too short
can't heckle and haggle like an idiot
on the planes, see  profligacy of robust water
hills are in the reign of wild sun and winds

Here ends the vast fields of ripened  rice,
where prowl crooked foxes eyeing hens,
on the foot hills furious bisons flare nostrils,
as you climb,eager leopard smells blood.

Love is the  fragrance  that outlives the flower,
my trek to the mystic mountain continues where
**** and shroom grow tangled  everywhere
the trek to the love hill, to strike  gold,is in progress,

Dear Santa this year has been so hard
I can't afford a tree, presents or a card.
I haven't been the best that I probably should have been
I write this heavy hearted, I don't know where to begin.

I ask you dearest Santa to grant me these three things
and if you cannot do it please pass it to The Kings.
My husband lost his job and the car is broke down too
we have never asked for help before but, we are asking it from you.

I ask you mystic Santa to hold my family near
I want us to be close especially this time of year.
This is my first request it may be kind of rough
but, I want my kids to understand that being a family is enough.

My second wish oh Santa is for my teen princess
I want her to be strong and proud and never have to stress.
If you could give her some art supplies of her very own
I would greatly be in debt to you for the love that you have shown.

My third and final wish is for my growing boy
a few things he could build I know he would enjoy.
He doesn't always listen but, he really seems to try
I want him to be strong too and reach up for the sky.

In closing Santa, I thank you much for listening to my bids
no one should have to beg for help especially for their kids.
I am asking you Santa to do what you do
thank you in advance, and Merry Christmas to you.

As I stood there My heart began sing
And I wondered why it didn't sting?

You looked inside the house
And said something, I was literally doused.

Then I heard him, His anguished screams
I ran towards the house, as my tears became streams.

Then you put your hand out, Causing me to freeze
I started to scream, but all I could do was scream PLEASE!!

You moved so Gracefully
I started thinking Hopefully.

I heard his screams,
And the tears continued to stream.

You stopped in front of me, And bent down and whispered
How much do you love thee?

I said I would die for him, Try for him, Cry for him
I would even give up my soul for him

That's when I realized, this whole thing was game!
A  sick and twisted game to make me tame!

Your body transformed, into something so foul.
I'm pretty sure my face was the ugliest Scowl.

I looked at you and screamed "You ***** liar!
Of course that was a mistake cause all you said was
*"Well *** what did you expect from the devil?"

Lions eyes,cloudy yet wise
this gentle and genteel man
a mystery to me,
yet we have touched
Souls intertwined like vines
in a forest mystic,
Backs against Tingle trees,
Fifteen hundred year old texture
pushing us away
leaving imprints like scars unhealed....

He Said:

Climb aboard,
Lift yourself into dream,
I will only take you,
You must surrender,
If the sky should fade
Or the heavens fall,
Hold on—
Never doubt I may love
You.


She Said:

Hold me,
Look into my eyes
Forever and only say what I,
Already feel, already know,
I will, will happiness,
I shall keep tenderness,
In a box of joinings
And lavender,
The mystic blue
Of earth and sky
Is in my hand,
Overreaching.

comfort comes in many forms
scented soft garments against my skin
recollections of your kissses
your eyes, and kind words
audacious pronouncements of Lord Henry
mystic deliria of containing multitudes
melatonin and gilmore girls dvds
at last, sleep crawls into my bed
"i was waiting for you to finish your poem"
she says

Night-hand reaches out, enclosing, mystic, strange,
Dissolves into the air, breathing silent change.

Eyes clutch aimlessly at reflections of the grey;
Like quiet ripples, life fades away

Last night I had the strangest dream:
Love carried me to Heaven's door.
All the joys of Life magnified
As angels beckoned us inside,
Warning this was but a dream -- no more

What delights my senses beheld,
Elysian music filled the air!
Only Love could write such a score
And the heart understand its lore.
But the enchantment did not end there .....

A mystic fragrance made me swoon
As Love chanted its divine hymn;
Who could have guessed a dream could bring
The rapture of eternal Spring,
With each tree boasting a flowered limb!

Smiling angels reassured me
Heaven can be found here on Earth;
The golden key of Love's embrace
Permits entry to God's pure space.
Only there can be found Life's true worth

All's vanished now -- that sacred view,
The angels' smiles, that perfumed air;
Once more my life's burdened with grief,
I look to Heaven for relief ...
But only Love can take me there

hey, come with me - go
skinny-dip Mystic River.
Glimmer, feel the glow.

I adore you beyond compare, far into the realms of radiant waves and mystic wonders

I cherish you like a child, naive, clean and everlasting, multiplying
Devout flashes of light, felt deeply beyond dim vision

Complete, singular, tender, convinced
The whole of my spirit has been conquered

Luminous shining celestial light
Dreams of you lift my soul to soar
Exuberantly jumping into the empty space
Embracing all and nothing, the quickest way to bliss is you, you, you!

The tides of other's are in the wake of emotion.

Eurydice's ****** body is covered in moss
I feel her aged finish and weep

We all scattered when it hit
I ran into an abandoned watermill
To hid from the infection they're trying to spread
The knowledge of good and evil

Apartment complexes mowed down
Only the doors remained standing
To be open and allow a sound to come out
The sound of defiant opposition
That will shake the world from this contagion

The Birthgiver's sacrifice, her life taken in vain
Now a mystic, an alchemist, a shaman and a mage come from the other side of the world

Here is the sound
The one the calls us
Here is the picture
Faded to yellow
Tattered away by time

The incessant calm
the roaring silence.

A mystic bell tolls its portent,
and the world uncoils like a spring
and collapses like thunder on a summer day
The shock of cold strikes my muscles,
defibrillating my comatose brain into a primal state
as I feel the water suspend me, if only for a moment

The rushing adrenaline breaks its mental dam and seizes control
My legs a motor in the tides,
my body an arrow from Apollo's bow arcing towards the crystalline surface

I break the barrier into air, it shatters like glass.
And then, I fight, clawing like a crazed animal.

The primal struggle to survive, to battle my existence
to take on the entire world...
collides with my thinking mind at once, as I shrug off the weight of breathlessness

The primal and the intelligent forcing me forward
threatening to rend my body in two!
My world inverts, and does a tipsy dance

The struggle between our dreams and our reality
Our fight and how tired we truly are
Hits me with a wall of realization

I fight on, my fury a mad race to break myself
to surpass the limits I set for myself
and truly see the world

The moment hits, a single tap on the wall an explosion that sends my body reeling
and my mind blinks and returns to its natural state
I breathe new air and clear my head,
yet search as if trying to remember the dream I just awoke from

And the world is a clutter
And the roars are silent

Thou Shall not avoid one’s destiny, Thou Shalt not turn face behind closed doors. The walls have ears, from those from the other side have planted eyes there. You think those people know better, because they’re older than I am, hate to be a burden, but you giving illusions to construct my character to a lesser version is a cultural sin and I’m happy to be cutting your throats over those preventing my own destiny and that’s real. Because I’ve seen the other side and they all have mocking faces, just like what time does. Against all odds for I have prevailed everything at all costs and parted from this earth without the transition of death. You’re not live like me. Your secrets, out of the closet, close your mouth. You can tell you wife whatever you want. But everything past or present comes to the light. Can’t player hate on me. To the Mystics, they know the difference between me and you. Light skin, socky, with a Haitian accent, known for flashing. Working for the revolution, still I snitch, you tricks can never shut me up, touch one of mine, I’ll destroy everything you love. Same trail, just different courts, picture what he said. I’ll be real, a legend, living or dead. God don’t like ugly, but you can meet the Devil before death. For those who don’t rhyme right, seen too many movies. BANG-BANG. Forgive, for they’re trying to **** me. Not for the revolution or that other side. Now I got two rottweilers next to my bed as I sleep. Mystic poets done in the dark. They can paint in you in red and your another dead laymen. Lurking on you, as they break bread with Gods. Because actions speak louder than actions.  Just started form initiation of an outlaw immortal. Seeing the grander things of ending times. Passing the period of the biblical rapture. I’ve awaken, risen and it’s a choice not to fall. I can remember those boys trying to get me in thy sleep, my buddy has no heart, it was in the middle of the Cross, they talked loud till my buddy starting popping off, scattering pedestrians. Those peasants now wish they never stuck their heads out the door. Would God be satisfied the loaves and fishes and itty-bitty thimbles of Communion wine, while Satan to have the red-eye gravy, eighteen-ounce New York Stakes, and buckets of chilled champagne? Would God really accept twice-a-month ******* for procreative purposes and give Satan the all night, no-holds-barred, nasty “can’t-get-enough-of-you” hot-as-hell-*****?Think about it. Would Satan get New Orleans, Bangkok, and the French Riviera and God get Salt Lake City? Satan get ice hockey, God get horseshoes? God get bingo, Satan get stud poker? Satan get LSD; God, Prozac? God get Neil Simon; Satan Oscar Wilde? Devil is happy when the critics run you off your feet, poor God, getting blamed for all the world's misfortunes. As for me, I’m in the middle and produced something duality. For joined the Outlaw Mystics, where humanity calls mad and all those religious peasants shun us out and anyone, regardless of side know better, they all tempt our souls, but I only mock them, cause they know I’ve reached immortality and I laugh.

I heard a rumour that I died, murdered and shot,
to lay in cold blood. Everything weeps, for when
they shouldn’t. But it’s all fiction. Someone had
gotton the story twisted and chanted that I no
longer exist. I’m not hard to find. For when I die,
I want to be a living legend. To lead ways of wild,
into the blood of women, as I punish all men of
their petty ignorance. I could remember what those
behind the curtain told me, it was everything that
Blasphemy is. And I’ve accepted, to run to my
own destiny, they’ll be those ready to hate as the
others there to support. For that, I have nothing
else to say to either side. For I’ve already left, for
a living death. Pictures of me in my final state, as
I smile and go on. Babylon beware. Peasants in
Jerusalem waiting for sign. Mystic join time, to
mock everyone here on earth. The future wants
me buried, because I know who’s lying. There’s
generations of people, wanting to change the
world and fewer people wanting to change themselves.
My heart is pure as I speak of humanity in vain.

Colored clouds furnished the sky
Pink, yellow, orange and white
Imparting mystic images
Stimulating the view
The messages my heart decoded
To be from fire eroded
The gods and goddesses of yore
Rejuvenating my calor
The caress of passing breeze
Seemed no longer mundane
Flock of birds wafting above
Deity formation in disguise
The rays of Sun a rapid river
Flowing into ocean of air
In high plains i heard a whisper
Soothing my wounded crown,
Inebriating my spirit
Such calmness i had never felt
Such state far beyond pain
As the moments began to last
Intensifying my soul's goal
Time admonished the Earth to roll
And diminish the light fast
Where day endured becoming past.

Written to my girlfriend, after a single rose I had given her managed to stay alive and flower long after it was supposed to die*

Our lives differ no less than from a flower
What keeps us apart is it’s destined power
A power that starts its life as a seed
Seeking the light and the love it will need
Ambitiously growing with hopes to one-day find
A reason for living, leaving inevitability behind
For a flower is subjected to a cycle of life
Experiencing the inevitables of love, death and strife.
Some flowers have a will power of their own
To stall their cycle, having death remain unknown
For when that flowers see’s something that it likes
It will hold out for longer, no matter what strikes
Like being brought into love, a flower holds out longer
To see the relationship grow, and get even stronger
Watching two people connect, with no strings attached
Seeing true love unfold, remaining unscratched
Satisfied it holds out, even through the death of it’s flower
Pushing itself to stay alive, even if for an hour
For it has hope for someone, so it must reply
By showing us beauty in something, will never die
Using it’s last bit of strength, to be optimistic
It starts to grow again, as if it were mystic
Leaving two lovers to be astounded by this miracle
They put aside their differences, until they are wrinkled
These flowers of course are brought to us by fate
To show us beauty in our love, before it’s too late

Yes i loved girl
When i was too young.
When,i was naive
enough to not believe in rejection.
Yes i loved a girl
she had black hair
like that of the bounty sky.
and a pretty face
that sometimes looked like it could pry.


I belived having a big heart
and being just not ugly was enough.
but it's one of my assumptions,
that always spills over the trough.
But now i learnt,
love is just a  materialistic word.
it's not as free and mystic
that it once occured.


No  it was'nt a breakup as the say.
It was more of a perfect concoction
to ruin your faith and in the end
make you sway.

No i dont have the perfect lines today
to make the edges rhyme.
Maybe i lost it somewhere
while pondering on whether
i commited a crime.

Yes i loved a girl,
when i was too young.
when i belived i could let go and run.
Yes i loved a girl,
she was honest and stern,
but now i hope i would
make the pages to turn.

Looking out into the blistering night
further my travel to reach a mystic height
why can't i get there yet?
the distance increased when i misplaced my steps
why can't i just get there?
across the glaring beam of the central star
my journey to meet my love feels so far
i try to avoid the malignant zone
oh... But i'm soon to find my home.

I need to touch her shoulder
these many nights have been getting colder
oh lord all i wanted was to just hold her
through the months of walking
my wishes stem from contantly hoping
i still avoid the menacing zone
oh... But i'm soon to find my way home.

It's true that if i do not give up the fighting
i will prevail to witness my dream sighting -
of a woman that i glorify as my queen
a soul that has cared through my days of being green
will i now make it?
who knows, but this trip feels like i've walked to Rome
i see her, standing within Zion now i've finally found my home!