stars and stardust fall to freedom
from the press corpse,
from the incessant demand of chemical crises.
crowds ache for love or a substitute
and false amore is what they have.
love is folie a deux-
[the shared madness of two.]
attachment is an affliction,
infatuation is disease leaping from remission,
with deadly symptoms.
red roses lead to black coffin doors,
roses dropped on floors
from vases shattered,
and life is the water spilling from the stems.

golden hair won't keep me docile-
blue eyes and a smile
are weapons of mass destruction-
cities sunk and flags risen
from the depths of inhumanity.
it's all for you, Helen, and humankind will never
perceive its aftereffects,
its hangover headache
sprawled over the world on a bad day.
little city partylights and shiny beer bottles
broken upon the concrete
covering the grass.
reflections of insanity upon the glass.

devilish, the temptress,
the succubus, a mistress
sent by Him, to spin doubt into
the spiderwebbed life of family trees
split in two by axes, divorces
to fifty percent, no-
no wedding band-aid will stop this flood.
abandonment.
neglect gets to a child's head-
can't help but wonder if
they were the cause of this.
little anchors,
keeping the heart in one place-
an anchored rubber band that demoness
stretched and snapped.
the relapse gave her whiplash, and
the stepdad whipped the boy's back, and
the boy grew up and
found a girl to take his pain to.
she gave him five stunted children,
with eyes hollow and glazed,
a mechanical response to a command.

lack of emotion only seems cruel
to those on the other side.
lack of flourish means nothing
to those who grew up to grey skies.

chains and handcuffs keep stardust grounded,
remains from a nebula which
birthed a black hole.
straight razors and pinky nails
teach fledglings to reach for the sky
and never fall back down.
glass ceilings never seemed so
breakable- tiptoe upsidedown
and reach the other side
before you fall back down to the real world.

angels have no eyes.
angels have no souls.
angels judge and leave the helpless for below.
cliffsides crumble and clouds dissipate,
and the devil lends a hand-
he is helping sinners make it up to him.
in his face sit eyes gleaming brightly;
there are teeth grinning, off-white-
he is human, though sadistic
and he understands your plight.
the devil is forgiving,
and you understand nothing, because you
are nothing.
you are nothing.

stars and stardust fall to freedom, and the devil takes in all.

I always did want to start at the end and work backwards.
Imagine being somewhere and not knowing how or why.
The suspense and mystery would be wonderful.
Would be, it would, altogether better than having the entire world before you.
Wondering where to go.

at theend
of the day
theking goes
back in the
samebox
as thepawn.

Right next to the guns, poppers and wedding rings.  Right next to the forgotten kings words written in pages bent but unread, revealed and sent like bullets found a gun bed. Stories woven and unwoven through the magic of attachment.

We sat at the table, waiting for our number to be called.
Their pepperoni pizza, was our most favorite one of all.

Our number is announced, George is carrying the pizza back.
When close, he decides to act, as though he  trips in his tracks.

In slow motion, that pizza, slid so smoothly out of the pan.
George's eyes got big as saucers, he saw the folly of his plan.

There I was in my new outfit, that cost half of my paycheck.
With pizza, upside down on my lap and sauce splashed on my neck.

Amazingly calm, George scooped the pizza up in his hands.
Melted cheese, stretching and stringing, from my pants in gooey strands.

He stood there patting and pressing the pizza back into shape.
That poor pizza looked just like a badly, bulldozered landscape.

It lay there sort of twisted, pepperoni all to one side.
Crust pieces stinking out of it, like a saucy red mudslide.

Then he sat down across from me, silently as if waiting.
I must have looked like a blonde fish, sitting there, just gapping.

Then a chuckle escaped my lips, as his eyes raised to meet mine.
He looked just like a little boy, who just got caught in a crime.

I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out for making such a fuss.
'Cause, next thing you know, the whole place is laughing along with us.

We couldn't stop, there was no way we'd been able.
Not while upsidedown-lap pizza, stared at us from the table

put on
your sun mask
otherwise people
will stare and
break out the pity
don't worry
if your mask is cheap
no one will call
that bluff because
no one really wants
to know.

the sky sinks its blue teeth
into the mountains.

Rising on pure will

(the lurch & lift-off,
the sudden swing
into wide, white snow),

I encourage the cable.

Past the wind
& crossed tips of my skis
& the mauve shadows of pines
& the spoor of bears
& deer,

I speak to my fear,

rising, riding,
finding myself

the only thing
between snow & sky,

the link
that holds it all together.

Halfway up the wire,
we stop,
slide back a little
(a whirr of pulleys).

Astronauts circle above us today
in the television blue of space.

But the thin withers of alps
are waiting to take us too,
& this might be the moon!

We move!

Friends, this is a toy
merely for reaching mountains

merely
for skiing down.

& now we're dangling
like charms on the same bracelet

or upsidedown tightrope people
(a colossal circus!)

or absurd winged walkers,
angels in animal fur,

with mittened hands waving
& fear turning

& the mountain
like a fisherman,

reeling us all in.

So we land
on the windy peak,
touch skis to snow,
are married to our purple shadows,
& ski back down
to the unimaginable valley

leaving no footprints.

There was an old world
that turned on it's head,

and turned out it’s pockets
and shook out the dead,

and shook off the living
and all of their stuff

til' all there was left
it considered enough,

and all there was left
was a world upsidedown,

and wind and whatever
had roots in the ground,

and fish with a warning
to stay where they be,

down under the waves
of the shookabout sea.

There once was a world
that stood on it's head

and wriggled and jiggled
and shook out the dead

and shook off the living
and all of their stuff

'til nothing was left
in it's pockets but fluff,

'til nothing was left
but a world upsidedown

that shakes in the wind
as it's spinning around

like a ragged old lady
with thin and threadbare

clothing she's no
longer willing to share..

When I trip
I feel like I’m falling
Up into the sky
When I leap
I feel like I’m stuck
Down in the ground

There once was a man
with the gravest of frowns,

hung like a ham
by the folk of his town

who wanted to see
if his sad mouth might be

any happier turned upsidedown ..

shaking your hand like it's the first time I'm meeting you
and every piece of me feels like cement, frozen and heavy.
my arms find their way around your shaking frame, if you were a wind storm
then maybe you could fly away,
but you just look at me from the corner of your eye,
thinking so loud
you're afraid
I might catch
what you mean

what do you mean?
the silence
you stress
between your fingers makes me want to open my mouth
and sing.
already I can feel you
coming in and out
in and out
and out and out and out
and in
and out of my mind
my imagination.

gaining a loss, the loss is a gain
because of what you use to fill the empty space that remains
we're destroying our brains
no no no no no no
we're expanding Out out out more and more and more
more give me
less than you give yourself
you deserve
more than flowers deserve crowns
and kings deserve flowers.
I want
to                  make
             you
smile.

i cry about you sometimes but im never gonna tell you.
i don't try and hide the tears: no one notices.
try and be a little more polite, look at yourself and let the beauty you reflect absorb, rather than bounce off.
get off get up get on get in get OFF get UP get ON get IN
gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme your heart
lemme lemme lemme lemme give you mine

she thought you were desperate
but she was too needy, and she left you greedy
but the wounds that are bleeding teach us how to feel.
You drop on one knee in front of him, hoping that he'll
put his hand on the other one to tell you: everything's going to be okay.
she felt so much but it's all lost.
I'm an upsidedown cross
     trying to forgive you.

I am a tin can.
The most average tin can
Your eyes did ever see.
But leave me in the sun
and, baby, I'll glow
You better believe
I'll be 1E10K
Burning

Some more about me,
Because honey,
You should know:
I'm curvy
Easily grippable
Touchable
Gropeable
The perfect size
For your hands
To wander in so tight
To find..
I'm not tin,
I'm soup.
And baby,
I spill easily
If you hold me upsidedown
Like that.
I dent easily
When you press me
Like that.
And baby,
I grow cold
When you forget
I'm soup
And I need a heat source
To taste right.

No one likes cold soup.

But when I'm hot
I'm sure if I asked
You would eat me all day.

Mmm baby,
Its so bittersweet
That a can could love the sun.
Your dawn
Captivated me
Intrigued me
As much more welcoming
Than the microwave.
And honey,
When you lay your head
Just above the horizon,
Illuminating every white flower
With your breathtaking red-orange haze
You are the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen
And I am the luckiest can
In the whole **** world
And I try to pinch myself
But I don't have arms.
I wish I did.
Because the way
You, so quickly,
Drop below the horizon
Vanish from my sight
Leave me warm for a moment
Until the cold seeps in
Makes me wonder
If maybe I'd be better off
With the stability of
A microwave.

pluck out my heart and leave it on the road

I forgot what it was to feel again.

I scribble directions to healing

only i cant read my own writing

tip me upsidedown and tear me inside out

Ive left it all on the pages for your insight.

**** me softly

**** me violently

Ive died a thousand deaths

none more painful

than the first verse

and the hole torn from the fabric of my universe

still I try to feel something

anything except numb.

He was amazing at being a friend,
Would stick by you till the end,
Never let you down,
Could turn your frown upsidedown,
He always had an open hand,
He was the best guy in the land,
Had a nack for bein great,
But his parents sealed his fate,
He had an amazing girl,
She was the best for him in the world,
His parents didnt respect her at all,
And so that was the relationships fall,
So his mother snapped,
And she attacked,
But his girl was done with their ****,
She was so over it,
She wanted to be friends instead,
And to his parents are we all dead.
She bought his sister a 30 dollar cross,
And now they snap and the relationship is lost?
**** his parents i have a suggestion,
Here is my one and only quetion:
Do we care what they think at all?
Or shall we all like them fall?
Should we ignore them? Yes we should,
Lets go back to being what we were: a brotherhood,
Her furry is being the conduit for it,
His parents think they are doing all the right ****,
We can see the hurt in his eyes,
But at least we know he has his pride,
If she would get with him, it would settle down,
Go to one cook out, and be there i his town,
Be in his territory, but dont explode,
I think they should kindly invite her to his abode,
This is crap, and no matter how hard, forgive and forget,
So lets all be friends, and forget all of it.

I've cut open my eyes
And to my surprise,
I found an old carousel projector
With millions of upsidedown pictures inside.

The machine starts to whir,
And my life flashes by,
Every memory frame by frame,
On these convenient little slides

Every laugh, and every smile
Every absence of joy,
Those slides seem to last longer on this carousel of poise.

I walk alleys and avenues of broken roads.
Black tops eroded from years of punishing
Rainfall, passerbys and time.

After a hard rain, shallow mirrors open up,
Revealing an unyielding world on its head.

It seems, as I walk amidst the distinguished,
Cracks, chips and pebbles that this moment,
Both real and a memory is everlasting.

Overcast, both dismal and hopeful, I read
Between the skylines of the upsidedown.

I breath in this parallel, I write it all down,
A collection of neverhaves.

A creation that is mine for the making, or
For the taking, should I wish.

I want someone to analyze me.
Learn my binary oppositions,
my repetitions,
my anomalies.
Find the strands that connect,
Paraphrase me. X3.
Dissect every phrase.
Learn me.
Feel me between your fingers.
Fold me.
Backwardsandforwards,
Insideandout upsidedown.
Memorize me.
Don't forget me.

I measured the steps
From the back screen door,
Past the rock water well
And the garden plot,
Down the gravel drive.
The crush of stones beneath
Were the sounds of anticipation.
At the end,
The road stretched and ribboned,
Grey, beneath the harvest sun.
I numbered the fence posts
Up to the tree with embedded wire,
Demarcating the next acre.
The telephone poles like guards
With cats-of-nine tails,
Red-winged blackbirds and wrens
Hanging on trapezes, upsidedown,
With rigamortis clutches.
The few cattle stood cooling in the pond,
The chickens pecked the farmyard dung.
Each day my steps imperceptibly decreased,
Speeding up the monotony of my walk.

I missed the sheep shaped clouds,
But saw them move
Across verdant dales,
Following the stream,
Like lambs.

Today, I look out my kitchen window
To see where my son,
My disheartened, lonely boy,
Counts the steps to Brigden Sideroad,
Feeling the gravel
Hard beneath his feet.

I wanted to write a poem of you
But couldn't find the words.
I'm so distressed, too depressed
And now my stomach hurts.

I could not tell you how I feel
Even if I tried.
I turn around and life's upsidedown;
I really want to cry.

Too many things I want to say
But I always stop myself.
So I won't get deep, there is no need.
We'll only keep jokes off the shelf.

I wanted to write a poem of you
But couldn't find the words.
So here it goes, I suppose:
You are my favorite nerd.

amusement park rides are safe
the sheer force keeps you from falling out
roller coasters tilting you side to side
not quite upsidedown
but almost

I'm trying ******* a playground swing
to go over the top
but just keep falling back to earth
******* gravity

in between the trip and the crash
is the fall
That's when I think of you
when my hands are outreached
My feet are skidding
I'm trying not to eat ****
but there's no guarantee
because clumsy people fall a lot

Maybe I haven't landed in love
but I sure am falling

God could have created Mankind to never sleep,
to not need rest
So it follows that God created Man to sleep that so God would get a rest.

They say
If you find
Yourself
S
    i
      n
           k
             i
                n
                   g
You should
Breathe
And watch
As pearls of air
Ascend skyward,
Because they're meant
To carry you
Back from the deep,
Which takes you
By your head
And pulls you
Upsidedown
Until midnight water
Slides into your
Slack jaw -
The shimmering pearls,
They string up your
Heart and tug you
By the chest until
You burn, and still
The stars pull you
Home.

Cliche: The world is yours for the taking--
       The last poem in a purple notebook--
Creative (possibly): The world is yours for the making--
       150 degrees--
where Africa is the continent placed
       UpSiDeDoWn
and North America,
       against all logical sense,
is in the south.

       Little boy in sixth
grade.
       Go to the man who painted the walls white,
dropped textbooks in every teacher's lap,
       and taught them how to
babysit.

       Tell him that we
need more than one flavor
       to splash our palette.
A subtle flavor so small
       that it's dust-like.

Make him give us something
to change,
to express our love,
to make our blood dance with passion,
and permanently graffiti the walls
with our heart's emotion.

I really hate listening to people
Criticize the way others live their lives
Thinking that they are religious and know all that is right
Even religion tells us that its not our place to judge
Yet we do it and think its right
A bunch of hypocrites living a lie
They don't even stop and wonder why
Maybe people really are born that way
Or maybe we're the ones who are upsidedown

I WANT TO SAY IT ALL.

I AM NOT CAPABLE OF SAYING EVEN HALF; MY BRAIN IS WRONG, THESE PILLS ARE WRONG, I'M WRONG.

I AM YOUR LANGUAGE'S STUDENT, YOUR UNDERSTANDING IS A SHINY NEW CHRISTMAS PRESENT I'VE YET TO UNWRAP.

I DON'T GET ******* ANY OF IT NOW, AND I WON'T FOR A WHILE BECAUSE I'M NEW HERE, MY NAME IS CIEL.

MY NAME TAG IS UPSIDEDOWN AND MY SHIRT HAS JUICE STAINS, I GOT HERE LATE AND I'M TRYING SO HARD TO EXIST, THE OUTLINE OF MY BODY BLURS.

THE COLORS IN MY SKIN POUR DOWN THE FRAME, THE PAINT BLEEDS OUT, I'M BARELY HUMAN SHAPE, BUT I TRY.

MY BRAIN TRIES TO KEEP THE IMAGES FUZZY WHILE I TRY TO FOCUS.
YOUR KNOWLEDGE DANCES IN YOUR TONGUE, YOUR KNOWLEDGE CRASHES IN MINE.

IT'S DIFFICULT FOR ME BECAUSE I AM A SMALL BROKEN ALIEN WITH THE WILL POWER OF A GOD AND IT'S SO MUCH EASIER FOR YOU,
THIS FRUSTRATES ME.

satisfaction when falling
into the bottomless
two minutes slip by

all my lifetime of trying to recognize
spiritual masters, instead -
potential parents
flood the tunnels with the bad manners and
dressed in dark grey and green

such repugnance -
decadent as **** malevich
i crawl into his smoky rib cage
forget that the language
is dead.
he pauses, rushes and pants
paints his face skeleton
eyelids blank like i pictured - but
no seattle sound. math rock and machines going off they rocker
no rolling stone
**** her string along that neck
come back reborn. shut the door
collapse in the bathroom, throwing up
into the telephone -
sa ding **** made up words
or looped cuban songs -
back in the day is gone
not anymore not anymore

what do ripped jeans mean to you?
or 16th century persian poets?
when your mind is set afire
swarthed
you like women in klimt’s canvas
light beams through your slits
so you won’t drown in
ruthless thoughts stream
when your deafened ear catches
the ovations
pervading, dying blue note
still not the ending

madame blavatsky unfolding the envelope:
i’m the circle on palm leaf manuscripts
with a dot in the middle -
you’re the reason. the clarity and the void
the eye in between
the missing capstone, i am the folklore
strange beings with fishtail and
i might be the lizard
king, violet violent dressed in crimson
you squeezing them lemons
tequila so creamy
when spiky black leather rips through
the wires, sound effects are your favorite
print shops, in them zines. your dialect
you savor - licking your lips,
saturated and smeared, paranoid
black sabbatical
moon-kissed.

i know you all umbilical visceral
bite your teeth into and cut
catalonia - two halves, dry mouth
and scorching sun
you know i’m subtler than the red
a lotus flower growing in the west
silk sheets in ultraviolet, as soon as
you come to rest
i can smell the war in your curl
jet black and charcoal -
no matte.

no hole in your chest - yet
microchips, they flicker
under your skin as the muscles twitch
in the rem sleep;
black madonna’s humble soft gaze
through the painted veil. marble or onyx
did you feel defeated? when you’ve fallen?
into the bottomless - unknowing
fungus-like growing
upsidedown along with the
torus

cycles and waves, when it’s not subatomic
i wish we’d perceived past the
electromagnetic; distant planets and stars
tease my potential. if only
i wasn’t eclectic, if only
i was in zazen

i accept; sit back sense the vibrations
mind-vacuumed perception not split into parts;
a black whole: if you, color, still there
up high; this deceiving metronome
sound time-travelling in circles
splashes across; carmen in carmine
a girl walks home alone
feline; l'via, cygnus,
jimi,
come on
why don’t you set me free

I don't know what to do with it all,
the flowers, the elephant and the
ruins under my feet.
The long and brooding presence.

It is clear that I haven't come to grips
with this upsidedown world. I shouln't have
saved all these goodbyes (at the end, all die
and their ghosts will never leave you).

I saw you floating today and I found
how hard it is to scream underwater.