I listen to them as they mouth your name;
and I see
how deluded,
how hypnotic,
how enchanted and consumed
they talk of your ways and,
how the stars in their pupils beam with a radiance of such pure awe.
Your words hang loose off the tops of their tounges and their lips drool in your glaze.
Your lazy features,  your so electric but so infuriating charm -
sends them mindless, locks them in your illusion.


So it’s then

I try to burn every
sheet of paper which ink prints your presence,
inside these desperate  shelves which fold upon each heartstring.

My ears attempt to block it out.
Instead they replay every song
that has ever left your lips.
And my eyes deceive me as they scatter
a particle of you on every surface of life I encounter.

My mind echoes every laugh you created in my streams.

Then I paint every colour you ever erupted within me,
in thick black.

As they mouth your name,
every trace of you with anyone but me,
causes my hands to pull through my gut,
and hammer down any of these ******* deceptive daydreams
that you have me  trapped me in.

And then so easily, one by one,
debris of my heart crumble like rain
down your window,
down each vein.

Yawning mouth of the city beckons
Glittering jagged teeth tearing into
Passing souls
Walking on slick black tounges
Sand beaten breath fogs windowed eyes
The beast we come to love
Even as we live incased in it's cavities
The plaque in the grime of eroding gums

When did you last brush your teeth
Your buildings, starting to turn gray
Your tongue a tad flavorless
Do you grow old, fat, and tired?
Or is that just us?

Changes float on the breeze so subtle
You'd never see them unless you left
People slowly turning to dust
Blowing away
But everything still stands
As if nothing ever happened
We live our lives in nooks and crannies
Ghosts pressed between the glass
Tiptoeing enamel streets

Plush gold chairs and minty fresh
Oh peppermint fresh
Rain trickled saliva slips over your
swinging silk face
Breath, taunting tints of lavender
Your back is straight
Stressed crowsfeet pupils shine
Wake up tomorrow to find today
Your eyes are brown but green
Your mouth is wide but tight
Your grin not as cheap as the others

Everyone starts to bleed together
All traits the same
So very different
You weren't drinking mint
Nor lavender
Freeze frame in memory
Pick and choose what we see today
Who to be yesterday
Next week pickle plum I'll jump through a fire just to feel me, feel you

We're running from something
Day to day
Feels like time, might be ourselves
Your shoulders are curved, the slightest of slouches
Your eyes are oh so green and teeth so straight
Thin lips and a long face
Once opon a time I almost knew you
But not today not ever
Self chained straining towards freedom
But happiness wrinkles you cheeks
Self imprisonment won't bruise the will
Don't listen to me, your far more free than I'll ever be
Whistle to the stars
Shrug your shoulder at life's questions
Look it in the eyes with your peridot irises, tell it you've got this
I wish I know what you were drinking
Rainwater and honey

Your eyes are weary brown
Rosy cheeks blush on bronze
Hair shifts to straw spun gold
You haven't aged but I feel so old
Going places while I stand still
Doesn't feel the reverse though that's the truth, if only in theory
You paint life, I paint paper
I maybe younger but I'm wilting faster.
Is it wrong that I wanted to kiss you
For a millisecond and no more
Atune to a time warp lost in free space

Green eyes Brown
Rigged lines graceful limbs
I'm a overcooked noodle
With a halfcooked plot
And everyone seem so put together
I'll poor the pesto on myself and call
me done.

twelve

         If i could write a letter to my twelve your old self, i would mention the pain your about to face, with self loathing and mental health is far worse then the years before. I would mention how when you wake up wipe the sleep from your eyes and read this letter and find two people you loved gone from your life forever. When you leave your plastic car framed bed you will find an empty room in the basement. The first loss is not death but abandenment leaves no answer to the sting a heart can feel when your older sister meant to guide you has ran away.  She has left, and to what you shall soon find out, left you to your death. The second loss has less thought to the idea of why? but still i did cry. It was my great grandmothers time. Her slow pace death lead to suffering till one week to the day after i turned twelve.  Emotional asking questions why, three days later i tightened my silk tie putting on a suit and ending the night seeing the casket of one of you. To think of you as dead eased my head for a while but still have to replace my frown with a fake smile. After all i lost a sister, when i needed someone to talk you were never there. Instead i just found myself cutting and dyeing my hair.  This is the year you feel your fathers strong hand as you tremble below it. This is the year you tremble in fear this is the first year you want to die

Thirteen

      To my thirteen year old self, im sorry life doesnt get better. im sorry that this is year your parents admit they don't care.  Im sorry this is the year you hear the three words no one wants or deserves to know their pain. Even though the words "I hate you" Were uttered in vain. Im sorry no one was there to hold you in there arms, im sorry of how when looked in the mirror every morniing after you showered  telling yourself its a new day and the pain is past. Im so sorry of how you found out how long the pain really lasts. Look at what you have achieved though, this is the year you win first in all categories invited to Kick Canada to again win. You achieve a bronze as a group, silver in your weopons, and gold in kickboxing. With you feeling weighed down your still weightless, with your amazing place and the smile on your face to look in the croud hearing the aplause. Somethings missing though your parents no where to be seen. Im sorry they wernt there to say good job im sorry your dads hand still strikes strong. This is the year you say enough though, you say no and strike back your foe. He stands stunned for a minute and walks away, the bruises faded away from the surface, but inside i still see them.  It is the night of my birthday i fall asleep praying tomorow will bring a better year.

Fourteen

     Im sorry this is not the year it gets better, your father never lays another hand to your dismay doesnt matter for his and your mothers word fly freely. This is the year they make you cry, only to insult you further "your nothing, your trash" there tounges did lash me. Til  i crashed under hate to my untimly fate, your mother is sick and you walk into the room as she slashes the blade across her wrist, you watch her bleed amd scream for help but she pretends u dont exsist she  spends the next year and eight monthes in psycitric care. Left in a house with nothing fair in the air my invitation ti nationals came and past i did not go in fear of leaving my mother would effect her more vast, past her yelling at ke eberyday i walked in the light blue room with the curtains always closed filled with gloom . While my mother on her last heartstrings looked for strength from her groom . Only to be filled with hate she saw me as a reminder he exsists and how he doesnt visit but i did. I walked the long path every **** day to see my mothers face still i wasnt good enough but that is just my luck. It is my last night of this age. The house is empty amd quite but still remains okay just praying thiis new year brings joy to the now broken boy.

Fifteen

     This is not the year it gets better neither, but this os the year your mother is released. It took a week for the smiles to wear away. Then i saw once again the skin tare from her flesh. Soon hate took over the tone under her breath and malace mixed with spite is the only thing left of my mother i once knew. This is the year you once again face death, you and your mother are in a car driving counting breaths singing along to eminem, reciting robert frost. when suddenly a car passes us and my mother is crossed the mid age lady on her phone swirving around, not paying atention to anyone or anything i still see her frown. She ran a stop sighn without a thought hit by a garbage truck in front of our eyes now i know the cost of when her cellphone conversation stopped. This was the first time i watched someone die. Still shocked  my mother had to call the abulence as i and the garbage man saw the damage in case she still did breath. In the end blood filled the scene as me amd the garbage man covered the front window with a sheet to protect what is left of this womens dignity. This is the year you fond a little blue pill that not only eases your pain if snorted aslo goves you a thrill. This is the first year that you almost sucsessfully kil.l... yourself going to sleep for this living hell praying next year could be better aswell.

Sixteen

     This year is a self medicated blur, this is the year you forgot who you were. T3s replaced with perks and shots only to be soon replaced with oxys in your black box crushed and lined one at a time up your nose the powder glides. The first night you try an 80 you overdose nearly comitoce as you spew a frothy white  fluid from your mouth but my freinds saved me to this day i dnt know how called said i passed out and cant drive home so my parents could never figure out how i lay on the tiled floor back from death after this a pill is never again accepted that is your debt 2 days to your birthday that cursid day your sober but that was just babby steps and i promise little soilder babby steps you would not regret.

Seventeen

      This is the year you stopped praying for help thinking you did this to yourself i promise it wasnt you. How could it be your still just in youth. This is the year you watch your father fall. You find the trail of debt 100 thousand dollars owed mine aswell of been a million for we can barely live so how would you like us to pay it back i finfd him stealing money from my backpack. This is the year you find out your dad is the same worth of a rat and you dont have to take his crap. This is the year he snaps and instead you help him back up. He was in achoma five days as you stayed never slept jus sat beside his hospital bed praying this did not mean death. Death came in a different way with your cousin brit stabbed to death by her husband on febuary fith.. this is the year you wished you diddnt exsist.

Eighteen

     This is the year.... you found the courage to see you will always be...good and thats enough for me.

I looked for love
In a bottle of *****
Spilling out my soul on everyone's tongue
They swallowed my love down their throat.
Calling it spit, they came to me with open arms
And smiles in their shy eyes making me believe I found love in a person with shy eyes
But I only loved how they smelt like alcohol when they whispered my name, or when they lifted up my shirt with hands full of bad intentions. Even the times I knew I shouldn't , I always did. I liked the way they watched me undress, like they wanted me. But only because I was stripping naked in front of them and guys like that just wanted to feel something. I thought I was loving people, but I was hating them, giving all my anger to them for pleasure only to find myself in the same spot
Falling in love
With a bottle of ***** dripping down my throat

"SPOON FED"
BY Arcassin B


i use to dream of being famous,
i use to dream of having a car,
i use to dream of having,
anything,
that would build a better me,
people workin 9 to 5,
searching to be free,
but all you fear is yourself,
not me,
you thought you could put me down,

but i got right back up,
and said im stronger than your demons,
speaking in tounges , feeling stuck up,
preferably speaking,
but you know you cant ignore it,
all the people on the planet.



"Im On To You"
By Arcassin Burnham





blood drippin from your mouth,
i can smell ,
dangerous without a doubt,
hot as the fire , in hell,

im on to you,
if people say im foolish , idc,
im on to you,
its not just me its you and me,
im on to you

can i be the bee,
getting the nector out,
or can i be the misery,

Lament our random tuesday
– I can't see today the sunny day
of our last spring leaves again
in a treeless pathless meadow
that spring day of silver tounges tarnished.

Dessicated earth is seeping in the blue glass,
the dry cracked plain rising above the sun,
the suns clarity as it is in reality,
and where we have been – I will always remember.

There are no oasis' on my equator.
The Wendigo subdued with pale skill.....
Whose corpse can fail to compare with my soul,
if despair and courage aren't in my heart! -

And if your scent, a mundane beast,
tears at my knees everyday,
and the suns dull golden light,
chilled by a slow approaching wave
for all of our words?

Drops of diamond dust upon our tounges.

Down a pinwheel of colors and images we travel,
changing our very being the further we delve.

Clenching our hands together through the intensity,
feeling safe within our shared love.

Forgetting everything so as to become omnipotent,
our eyes embrace as the peak looms ahead.

Only to feel drops of diamond dust,
upon our tongues and our limbs.

Life and love go on for eternity,
sprinkled in diamond dust.

Let the rain dance,
as leaves fall like scattered emotion,
and send out cries,
cries for someone to create a potion,
to stop this bitter notion from carrying on unnoticed,

Let the rain dance,
across the tounges of the artistic hippies,
looking for a new gentle high,
or so called "stress relief",
to stop the pain from becoming more than a mental bother,

Let the rain dance,
as a form of tranquility,
for those who may need it,
let it dance,
in a pitter patter of self confidence,
laced with hope,

Let it dance,
for who ever may need the happiness they just can't
seem to find in themselves

Breathless Words

Soul to soul her words flowed the letters were elegant as she they had this bolden quality a richness
then her face was superimposed on the paper up in the left hand corner the paper was it self able to
evoke emotion light brown flowers and buterflies colorfuly purple ran down the right side then the
writing seemed but whisps visible but tendrils that are so cast as tiny to the point of airyness but that
was where the emotional timbres they struck a cord divisions inserted into layers that lay heavy on the
page pure heart some what disturbing crackled a liveness cried to be heard a call was spreading across
a waste land this velvet verdue capitalized on scarsity the emptyness gave it greater apaeal it spoke in a
whisper and you strained to hear you must hear when wonder sings there is always an audiense she
divised words that were robed in color and vibrancy your breath was cought ebbing and flowing her
thoughts were winged angels they called with hallwoed tounges their words were counter weights to
the usal run of the mill chit chat her perpodours words stood in great banks in the sky her words were dark and
raging at times and then turned white it was as she was fencing great sections of land then the storm
broke the pain came in torents this liquid rain expressed demoanized parts of what she vehemitantly
sought to express and then it slowed to a roll over the landscape of her life then it was glory noble it was
as you were whisked in to a great white church you stood by the altar as she pureified her deeepest soul
she confronted loss those dark corners in the lives of lovers it is not perfeclty clear but possibly one had
strayed it seemed she was making marks that represented death black and treacheous she wrote from
the very whip lashes on her heart they had healed but they left scar tissue her fingers passed over them
then she transfured them to the keys shame disgrace visted in the most beautiful chamber of their love
now it would forever remain a darkness in otherwise the show place of love and its achievments she had
a fire that was exzilarting it had the element that burned untamed places and when the new growing
came it was now clean the visual mastery that when observed is stunning she detailed the defining
moments that only love can birth this was one thing she said I love that magic. I hope it is a magic that
last “forever” be enthralled when you kiss your beloved know not you are planting seeds that drift over
filelds of forever they rise on the country breeze they travel to as the song says ole tangers and amid the
Pyrimids along the Nile they stall speachless at the foot of Kilamajoro they traverse the bluest sea to the
swaying of the hula and then they with this romantic thickness bend under the weight there only
definition and reality in this case lies at your feet live the dream girl

Snake tounges rattled and hissed words of poison mechanically,
With green-eyed monsters lurking beneath their skin,
Circling the rumours of suspicion onto those of white blood,
Like a frightened rabbit in deaths doorway to car headlights fell.
The slithering tale encapsulating innocent yet friendly ears,
Smearing their venom amongst those of lowered fighters hands,
Trickling down the innocent white hart's hands,
As though regarding herself as this murderess.

Flight of fear, fighting the dark, losing, chocking, drowning,
Yet tales of talk were not in vain, but yet they failed once again,
Smearing that of lies over white walls, black onto red,
Trapping the rabbit in the snare, as though to **** it in the shell.
My friend, would you tell the old lie? To children so high,
To fall so low, by that of snakes and their hungry green-eyes.

We welcome the girl,
alone it would seem,
like a seed in the updraught,
whole worlds lie beneath.

Here is the girl,
A mind pregnant with dreams,
as she crosses the bridges,
connecting the streams.

There lands a girl,
ghouls taunt, ghouls tease,
"let go of this love, girl,
be rid of these dreams."

Come see the girl,
speaking tounges through machines,
white draped over candy,
embracing the terminal dream.

Heres lies the girl,
most wouldn't believe,
the ghouls taunts a mere whisper now,
dream easy, love freely... my sweet.

Across from me is you. My eye's could never be so lucky. We sit here, with small talk on our tounges.

My head spins, twirling in colors of essential essanance
the barrries fall onto
floors non existant ground
and simple pleasures
of conversational munch

are triply seductive

the nature that has been robbed will be returned
the love that has been lost will be found
the trees that are cut will grow

and the souls that are condemened will be freed

but it must freeze

what lies at the core of fools
tell me ,
if you could be so kind?

kindred spirits of the philosophical type
who have seen the darkness and fight the flowers fall ,

the tree of universes shakes
and breathes a sigh

all the wind orginated from this spot
eminating out of the simple
simple stop  ,

cat calls - forest walls

honest bums
sit
no place like home they say
i say no place called home

no place other than home
as it walks with me
side by side
unto the power places
chakras glow and merger
connotations
******

but the defenition is flexiable

determine the point ,
touch the joints
heat the fall
and ***** it all

you only have this time around its all we've ever had.

who is it
that defines the love in our lives
but parent hood figures made out of wood frozn in time and we watch at the spirals unwind
and the lemons
are zingy and the mint is fresh
and i sleep on a bears bed
baby bear , mother too - wolves out alone standiing o howl at the mooon
and awoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
we've come so far
on the riptide of loves handslide
handshake
discovering for oursleves what we deem humanities race
and what we deem fools and tounges
and what we deem to be the runner out run
who comes first in a race
who comes fist before the fired gun
who sits and the hollow has come.

All my friends are fictional. Anyone who can come close to understanding me is black ink on paper...or, I suppose, a screen. The words seem to be extracted from my own mind, and in some sense, they are, or at least the meaning I've given to them. I think the author and I would get along, but of course, I'll never know. Provoke the melancholy, poke the sleeping bear.  Look up into the air and wonder "Why?". "Why everything? Why anything? Why do I keep asking why? Why do I waste my time with empty questions?". Some of my friends are sound waves.  I think I would get along with the vocalist, or even, the guitarist. Not the drummer though. Never got along with drummers too well.  I listen, as they speak to me in a foreign, yet, familiar language.  A sort of tounges, a melodic pig-latin. A nearly dying, or, freshly dead language. A corpse comprised of chords.  I think, "They must be just like me. They understand how asinine of an existence us humans have".  But, I'll never really know.  A painting or a picture that I often let my eyes visit is my longest, dearest, friend.  With strokes and lines in colors that surround me and embrace me with their vivid visual prowess as a sort of pet.  A silent friend. A friend whose company alone is enough to warm me.  And I think, "Wow, I wish I could make things like that. I wish I could speak without words and without fear".  And then I meet the artist, or at least, read his or her statement, and realize that the speech intended to be delivered was something else entirely, and usually not achieved without enduring his or her own self-projected labrynth filled with pits of fear and dead-ends. And I realize that I can make things like that, that ultimately. I just did.  By creating the meaning that I thought was their intention, I drew my own maze, all that's missing, is the courage to endure it.  And I think, "Wow, what a lonely sad soul that artist must be.  No one will understand what they are trying to say the first time around.  They will constantly be frustrated with the mundane experience of incessantly repeating themselves.  They will make enemies out of the very things they once loved.  They will isolate themselves from those who may have given them everything they wanted."

When we make out
Our tounges dancing in eachothers mouths
I wonder what it’s like to
Be your wife
Not just your
Playful pet.

The professor was mad
it was clear to us all
fantastic ideas
right off the wall
seeing the world
through his crooked way
gave all of us students
laughter for days

We reported for class
on the 15th of May
I must now confess
a memorable day
his topic that day
was a paradise lost
deep in the jungles
he'd go at all cost's

An expedition he'd mount
would I like to go ?
adventure soon seemed
to grip my soul
I talked with my parents
I talked with my girl
they all encouraged
this voyage from home

We gathered supplies
that we thought we'd need
but not knowing for sure
a gamble indeed
we then secured passage
on a ***** steamer
destined for the island
where the valley lay hidden

The day soon arrived
when we bid goodbye
to friends and our family
my girl she cried
she begged me be safe
and stay far from harm
I turned to leave
and she grabbed my arm

The look in her eyes
I'll never forget
searching and longing
full of regret
I may never return
or if I can
I may not remain
the very same man

I gently reassured her
we will be safe
upon our arrival
we will celebrate
The professor will lecture
to very large crowds
we will get married
and then settle down

Two weeks at sea
torture to me
rolling and bobbing
like a cork in the sea
the professor would not
let this deter him
stolidly he put on
a very brave grin

Over the horizon
the island took form
soon we were being
rowed into shore
the coxswain advised
they'd be back at slack tide
we'd better be there
or they'd leave us behind

We gathered our goods
right there on the beach
took a read of our bearings
and set on our way
we climbed through the mist
that clung to the hills
marveling at all
the sights and the smells

Finally we reached
the valley we sought
the professor's composure
was completely lost
he laughed and he jumped
screaming "I was Right!"
I fell to my knees
after my very first sight

Paradise was before us
I could scarcely believe
we sat and drew sketches
and took photographs
wrote in our journals
observations we made
The professor was planning
a brilliant display

We descended into
the valley beneath
and then set up camp
to stay for the eve
we talked of our discovery
and of impending fame
the magic was broken
as if all at once
a terrifying roar
emerged from the brush

The Lizard it lunged
staring straight at me
the professor let out
an ear piercing shriek
another had grabbed
him from behind
he struck it with a stick
picked up from the ground

We ran for our lives
and left everything
scrambling back
out of the valley
lucky we were
lucky indeed
over the crest
we ran for the beach

We would be early
where could we hide
staying out there
would be suicide
the lizards were coming
out of the hills
tounges sniffing the air
searching for us
intent on the ****

We climbed up an out crop
just out of reach
and hoped that our perch
would really be safe
we stayed there for hours
until the next day
when a flare did signal
help on the way

Back on the steamer
we would then relate
our strange experience
narrowly escaped fate
we thanked the captain
for his returning
to that strange island
a little early

We arrived back at home
there was much hurrah
family and friends
and a very warm bed
my girl then asked me
just what we saw
I related the story
as she stared in awe

The professor retained
a place where to teach
to my girl I was married
we moved by the beach
often at night
we look out to sea
paradise lost
we'll never again seek

The young lady asked the Yeti
“What is your name…do you have one?” As the kissed.
While kissing, the Yeti said that he had no name. So the young lady
Massaging his chest gave him a name
Vajramrita… after the fierce deity
For he was a fierce lover.
He kissed her on the fore head.
Vajramrita and the young woman kissed
Their tounges me and dance erotically.
She sat on her lover while kisssing and rode him and rolled her hips.
He ****** with her ****** rhythms as they coupled.
Soon enough the Yeti got on top of his delecate lover.
He entered her and gently jumping
As if trying not to hurt her
The yeti thengot between her legs
She could feel his face bewteen her.
Then she felt his probing tounge.
He gently yet passionately kissed her womanhood
Again not to hurt her.
Even monsters need love and defection.
The young woman stroked his head and he looked at her.
She took him my the scruff and pulled his head closer to her
And kissed him. As they kissed monster and human explore eachother in an embrace
The young lady went down
And kissed and nipped at his member.
After she was done with his member
The kissed and they slept in each other’s arms
Body twisted and entwined together

What fools we are to spend our lives
not painting or *******
What feels better in our hands
than a brush or a lover
To feel the paint spread along the canvass
And tounges pressed against our flesh
To explore and mix colors before our eyes
And tangle and twist our limbs
To merge heaven and hell with water and paper
And lust and sin with lips and skin
Push the sky with oil and knife
Open legs with mouth and breath
Make flowers bloom in eternal night
Draw moans from throat and *****
Let the paint and nectar flow
Melt flesh and expose our souls
Passion paints desire
Desire burns our bones
Lets not waste our time
And hold brush and lust and love
And paint our every hour
and grind hips to lips to sin and moan
Lets not waste what little time
We have to make life beautiful

The black man stalks my dreams again.
With his oil spill eyes
And venomous smile
He speaks in tounges
And bent up promises.

He jokes, Call me Cain.
Adam Judas Satan Jesus
Gabriel ******* Whale.
I call him the Whale
For he has swallowed me whole.

He is the flood
and I am swept away debris.
He calls me Seven
(That *******)
One for every sin I've mastered.

coherent breathing,
eyes closing,
hands feeling,
hearts twirling,
tounges touching,
hormones blazing,
skin sweating,
****** obeying,
teacher interrupting.

The montage of faces
from all corners of the globe,
new tounges, thoughtful eyes.
A generation safe from past
strains of inhumanity.
There's no hobsons choice
only permanent reinvention.
The glory to be who you wish
the edifying  gift bestowed
from England the hub of the free

Such a simple action leads to such an extensive mistake.
An action of pure love led on by desire and lust,
Collision of raw emotions,
Confusing thoughts,
Twisted tounges speaking laughable excuses,
A long never ending twisted road lies ahead,
Lives eternally changed.
There is no easy way down the treacherous path,
People will end up betrayed,
Hurt.
Guilt.
No one to blame but themselves.
Two senseless lovers bonded together for a lifetime.

The Yeti refusing to leave his
Love slave alone
Went with the her to the wildflowers
As she picks the flowers.
He taps his lover on the shoulder.
And kisses her gently
She falls down
Not out of fear but because of desire was so intense.
She take ms him by his furry face
And they shyly couple and kiss.
Was it the mountain air
Or
Because her skilled lover
She was in esctasy.
She kisses the Yeti and their tounges met in an ******
And emotional dance.

Sweaty palms
Long distance calls
Looming nervous presence

Bouncing mania
Preemptive dreams
Persuasion

Inadequacy
Salty tounges
Squealing

Subtle disproval
Financial discorse
Flamboyant pandering

Off-balance pulls
Compromised callings
Charismatic turmoil

A fire is burning
Deep inside
One to set me a blaze
That you fuel with hate

It's tounges of heat
Only add strenghth to my frozen heart
It's firey passion
Ready to shoot you will a storm
Of icicles

I have cried my frozen tears over you
And felt my blood boil in pain
But now that pain becomes a gate
To freedom

Too long have you governed over me
Too long have to called me ugly and fat
Too long have you laughed at my ideas
Too long have you talked behind my back

Though I can not leave in form
For now I'm gone in spirit
Smiling in front of you, laughing at your jokes

While my fire sparks inside
And my heart cools with malice
No longer will I feel you shots
Because if you shoot at an inferno
The bullets are lost in the blaze

Why do I go into the talklamakan desert
To trace the steps of my love
His gentle Buddha like face
Engraved in both
Mind and heart.
I travel with a broken heart.  

Why do I go into the talklamakan desert
To see the last places
That my love
Went to.
The memories
Of our coupling
Seared into my being
I travel with a broken heart

Why do I go into the talklamakan desert
To find the disembodied
Soul of my love
Memories of talking about the teachings
Bookmarked in the heart.
I travel with a broken heart.


Why do I go into the talklamakan
Desert
To be reunited with my love
Into a place of souls and demons
It’s night
I sleep next to
A watch tower
Hearing: “nga kayrangla gawpo nebo, I always will!”
Was this the last place he went
I travel with a broken heart.

I dream of the times in Lhasa
When you were still with me
Coupling in the eachothers arms.
Then I hear his voice
“Nga kayrangla gawpo yo nebo, I always will!”


I awake in the middle of the night
In the middle of the talklamakan
I finally see him
Still that monk I loved
But he was undead

I did not care
We embraced
And kissed
Our tounges danced
We both wanted to couple
But he was a zombie
And I was alive.

I hold him
As if he was so precious
I gently kiss him
And I walk into a town
Crying to my self.  

I traveled with a broken heart.

In a new cave
The Yeti and his lover
Woke up to strange
Yet
Pleasant music.
“Good morning my sweetheart, the Yeti said.
As he gently kissed
His delecate flower
The young woman did not
Know to couple
Dance
Or both.
They both decided
That their tounges will do
The dancing as they meet
During the kiss.
The Yeti and the young woman
Couple tenderly
Though on his terms
He has his way with her
The young woman
Loved every minute
Of it.

I saw the fires at the ends of time
Burning in the depths of iridescent blue seas of endless darkness
I set sail on a paper boat
Chasing a paper moon hanging above the blazing horizon
I heard the call of madness
And was helpless to follow
Whispers and whishes pushing the paper sails to the waters on the edge of time
And I walked into the flames
Burning blood red and jack-o-lantern orange
And I was consumed by the ache and the pain and the beauty of the embers and coals
Swimming through the anguish and tears of the shadows between the tounges of licking fire
The song and call growing louder
Hypnotic and alluring causing my heart to race
With fear and anticipation
My soul lost to the flicker of the dancing light
My heart singing back to the madness
I walked deeper through the flames
Burning everything of me away
My flesh and my pains
My bones and my doubts
My marrow and my sorrows
Leaving only my heart to burn and beat  naked through the truth
And the heat
My heart alone
Beating quickly
Burning slowly
Completely given into the song and call
Madness now pulling my heart to its center
There in the middle of the fires and flames
I found what made all things beautiful
A soul and heart
Of pure white flame
Burning burning
Like the sun
Burning brighter
And more gracefully
Never never
Had I felt such warmth
And radiance
There was nothing I could do
But be consumed
Always always
To be in love
In this madness
Made of you

liquid courage
Burning throats
The smokey taste of cigarettes on our tounges
This summer fling has obviously flung
Drunk and filled with love
Your heart fits mine like a glove
But with your hangover tomorrow
You will start to weep with sorrow
I was a drunk mistake
And my stone cold heart that was warmed starts to break

born again from beams of light
that pulse in tantric gestures.

humbled by the cosmic faces
we curious, spacial creatures

dancing to indifferent drums
that dawn in new reality

drifting from one place to space
we yearn for new abilities.

speaking in the tounges of stars,
conversing with our energy

forever planted firm and strong
no where in this vicinity.

a little rough around the edges
we burn we crawl we strive

towards the constant feeling of
a universal life.

we are
children of the sun

Everything is taking place in the dark.
Feeling movemants with your eyes close.
what will you picture?
The word pain is just a word,its not real.
No life in words.
But movemant speaks louder than words.
Don't ask questions as the soollution always creates the question.
Ask how to stay alive?
You can't ask that,as you will create fear thinking your alive.
You are always dead,and immortality is your only way out this realm.
Just the rotation of the sun keeping existance alive.
Lighting.thoughts of nature.
Stars momants and memories.
Movemant of us in the dark before the sun rose.
Speaking and interacting with actions.
No language or physical apeariance.
Meeting a woman in the dark.
Connection of te serpint tounges kundalini rising as continplating love.
The mothers thoughts of love and warmth and fire in the dark.when you hug her.
Protecting her from cold.
Like the sun protecting mother nature from dying in The cold universe.
Like your heart allowing your mind to tell your body what to do.
Mind creation of this world.
As we live inside her mind.
She protects all.
There in the dark.
Eclipse giving birth to sixth sun.

If you've had a drink
If ya had a few
Or if you had to think of what ya knew
It's on the brink
Tounges of youth
Indistinct
Tons of truth

Oh where the wayward go

If I had to guess
What would it be
If I had it dressed
in nothing to see
It's on the desk
Naked physically
Caressed tears form
Each one a nominee

Oh where the wayward go

If I found my ships lost
Where do i invest my lumber
The goods have been tossed
Livings the new plunder
I belong to this boss
Calling out my new number
Tithe to the cross
Counting sheep for an exponential slumber

Oh where the wayward go

If I heard your song
If it made me cry
Would the captain be strong
Would you know why
The best & worst wrongs
May deserve to die
But the rest of this route's long
We deserve better inside

Oh where the wayward go

If every page turned
Another plot thickens
False casting endures
Another old man fishin'
Into the depth of the pure
A well of wealth made for wishin
New babies insure
An old one is sickened

Oh where the wayward go
Where one dreams it will
But desires to never know
Happenstance will
Have it's dance
You will have your horse
You will have your show
You will have a friend
You will have an end
Please understand
The wayward just want to know home