i took a walk in the woods.
the rain pulled my limbs
into a humble slumber.
arms swinging by sides
with nothing more
than moisture trails
and crying fingers.
and mind
and eyes
that don't want to see
what the body wants,
so badly,
to feel.

walking through falling clouds,
under living bones,
and over dead skin.
the forest is about its self.

singing about screaming,
not looking both ways
before crossing the line.
we don't have to take it
from the top
to get to the bottom;
but i guess it makes
some sort of sense that way.

humble arms swaying,
tired eyes yawning,
and the forest watches.
it's arms holding up the sky;
still humble.
it's eyes not blinded by color;
still tired.
the forest never screams.

but it hears my fire,
it feels my ice;
and i can see it cringe
out of pity,
out of a lack of understanding.
Out of myself.

Shared breaths
leaving me breathless,
in another time.
kept fresh in the smell
of honey and your pink
shellfish.
and the forest,
understanding somehow,
my contained chemical
self,
leaking from my eyes.

It's nice to be listened to.

4 truths to be learned
8 folds to be made
3 eyes in your head
1 way to be paved
and the only ones that won't be saved
are the one that while living
stay close to the grave
so they say
anyway

I meditate
to alleviate
my fear of starting gates
and arriving late;
but this way's not working.

My lurking ailments
are assailants sent
from me to me
to see the pail's spent
much time
under leaky eyes
and roofs through
blurred lines in blue skies.

My demons fly higher than I.

Truths are lies alive in the
ears of who's hearing them,
and leaders are the feeders
of the power that's fearing them.

I'm searing them tearing gems
with uncertain vapors,
burning buds put in papers.
Rainy red retinas
want to undrape her
so I scream just to shake her
from myself
before I break her
from her shelf,
with rainy retinas red,
of self certain days.

I'm yearning for shades to start churning,
red back to blue,
you'll stop burning.
I want you
to stop earning
my dreary dream't gifts.

I'm still learning.

What faults have the sword?
What weakness the bowl?
What strengths have their union?
What power the whole?

I smile when I see your snowflake face,
unlike any other, the face of a mother,
making me awkwardly comfortable.
A face like mine beholding only my eyes,
not what's behind.
Often you see my complexion
a reflection
of ennui.
You think because it is dark,
that I
can not see;
But you behold my eyes,
not what's behind;
and the things that I find,
the thing that I've found!
The color and beauty and love that's around!
The sounds to be heard!
Don't think I haven't seen.
The frights to be felt!
The dreams to be dreamed!
Don't think I haven't noticed.
Your grace
and your snowflake face.
I smile when I see that face.
The face of a mother, unlike any other.

break the mirrors!
let their death songs
put to sleep
our vanity,
our ego,
our insanity.

only you
have seen the span of me.
our bodies given the jewels
of our eyes;
and a man at sea
with brine blackened spools
and dark skies,
without a plan or key,
says he's one of the fools
and he denies
thoughts of her thighs

the sea-man
broke the mirrors,
and windows,
and walls.
and left only doors standing

your black and white expression
hides the colors underneath,
and when death is your complexion,
to the earth you will bequeath  
that white and black wreath.
And the sky will claim your teeth

for stars for stars for stars

your black and white expression
to the earth you will bequeath,
and the object of your affection
longs for colors underneath.
her body will be the heath
and the sky will claim her teeth

for stars for stars for stars.

How long will you
leave that body
on the screen?

the gasp of lungs, the veins are wrung

how many numb
limbs flung
must be seen?

Woeful are the twisted spines
Beauty are the twisted pines
the likeness of these knotted twines
is comic in my mind's eye
but they still cry

Both took many moons to ravel
One will stay and one will travel
Until the stones turn into gravel
Until one lies down to die
The other still grasping for sky
the likeness of these knotted twines
is comic in my mind's eyes
but they still cry
for the twisted.

no matter how harsh my shush
my eyes still shout
"look at us!"
to passersby

no matter how loud my love
my lips still open
without sound
when I'm alone

no matter how strong my self
my teeth still clench
when I think
myself crazy

no matter how deep my death
my ears still hear
your last jest
in the dark

don't cry
no matter how evil I am

I colored my hair
so that I could shout without
opening my mouth

the colors are gone
washed away, except for blue
is that ironic?

There's a woman inside of me
that feels the things I cannot.

I know this because,
one day,
I felt her screaming.
Shaking the ceiling beams
of my body.

Then I listened.
I could hear her weeping
when she thought I was asleep,
and her tears stained my pillow.

I've never seen her.
Her self is forever covered
by the confines of my own soul.

I wish to set her free
but  my voice hurts her ears
too much to ask how.

Sometimes,
when I hear you laugh,
I can almost pick out a familiar bell,
one note familiar, in that chord
from your throat.

I imagine her face to be yours,
but I guess I won't know
until I learn to speak softly.

While trying to sleep
I have become aware
that the more familiar
my environment
the more hostile
my action.
So don't come too close.

The poster above my bed
asks my Why?
as I try to sleep.
It gives me something to do
while i fall asleep

Why do I neglect
my loves
why do I neglect?
why do familiar
objects of fancy
lose my respect?
Why do I neglect?

still trying to sleep,
her face flashing
behind my eyes,
Why did I do those drugs?
Did you do them too?
then maybe you know
why i feel so good.
why i feel so bad.
why i feel at all.

Listening
through to
the other side of the window
pane.
The wind is a beast
scared as I but outside
making the least
of his mist and leaves hide.

Oh, if i were the wind
Oh, to be about
to be limbless
to be thoughtless
to be free.

Why do I share these
insomniac's musings?
I guess
The eye inside my head
likes to be looked at

Only now do I sleep,
with wish-clouded vision.
this is my demon
called Indecision.

I wish I were the wind,
to be a beast free,
I wish I were the wind,
I wish I wasn't me.

Why?
the poster above my bed
still asks.

Why do I feel so good?
Why do I feel so bad?
Why do I feel at all?

there's something about
the people you don't know
that makes you laugh

the old men escorts
babble while we whisper
they make you laugh

cold fingered hipsters
who talk **** cause they can
have made you laugh

"what are you doing?"
"just playing" i would say
and then you'd laugh

bleary blue eyed boys
good intentions twisted
have made you laugh

and yes even I
still blue eyed and bleary
will make you laugh

there's something about
the people you don't know
that makes you cry

the old men escorts
babble while we whisper
they make you cry

cold fingered hipsters
who talk **** cause they can
have made you cry

"what are you doing?"
"just playing" i would say
and then you'd cry

bleary blue eyed boys
good intentions twisted
have made you cry

and yes even I
still blue eyed and bleary
will make you cry

long awkward stones
embraced by warmth and red
crowned by two imploding sapphires
often walks into the scenes of my dreams
through the seams splitting
pried from my mind by the fingers
of my idle time

I call it she
and it knows
what evolution has done to me
how those green hands of change
lend her the ability to be seen
in my dreams
and that sapphire-eyed ghost
that i call she when i'm not around her
is becoming
more and more
its own entity

i want to pull all my hair
away from myself
i want to be
alone
i want to stop
lying
and she's still trying
to go to sleep
and i'm still trying
to wake up

Eye brows lids and lashes
shadow swift synapse crashes
fierce fires flicker in eyes
while the coy of their disguise
made all the others daft
and the dark inside them laughed

The bright blue of their sashes
beckons burning bulb flashes
they still wear when alone
the rough edges of stone
but the coy of their disguise
and fires flickering in eyes
made all the others daft
and the dark inside them laughed

finally the rain is here
something that i still hold dear
something to clean out the drain

i find it quite ironic
that the rain falling symphonic
provides a silence in my brain

that distant lightning screaming
and the clouds tears still streaming
makes stars wax and the clouds wane

grip slipping like a drip from the roof
so aloof to the truth
the feel of skin
the need to puke
that trick licking the ***** held in hands
***** with sand
that night of lighting bright smiles on faces
isn't it grand
the races
and the places you haven't been

that fluke you saw
that wall so tall
i built on stilts
spilled from inside my mind
to the outer confines
you were there
you noticed
i dyed my hair
i wrote this
maybe you'd see
i don't just live for me
i know i can't
candy-coat this
but i wish you could have seen
the way you smiled in that dream
when you saw my imperfections,
all lined up like a collection
of books or toy soldiers,
you looked and your eyes smoldered
then you kissed me
and you said you missed me

it seems
that my dreams
have a sense of humor

but i digress
i confess
i'm a mess
not my best
i need rest

i want to write myself down
put myself into the paper under my eyes
to be a grain amongst so many
i'll write away my tears
and draw my breaths deep
i'll shade my eyes and spell out my mouth
i won't rest
until i'm 2D

11:11
i made a wish.
did you?
did you remember not tell?
that's what they say
"don't let that wish slip,"
but the truth is,
you can't cook wishes
into reality
by keeping them quite

whisper over your shoulder
whisper through the wires
whisper til your eyes leak
that's what your chest requires

I still make a wish
whenever four ones present themselves
on a wrist watch or a clock
and i still cook them in quite
only lifting the lid
for a moment or four
to sneak a spy of silence

11:27
33 minutes until
October!
my favorite season
when i was younger
because of my birthday
nesting in the familiar warm auburn glow.
now burning.
it's the start of a circle
a circle beginning in death
and taking a breath
before descending again
i will stay awake until October!
until i can feel that glow
until i know
that someone heard my wish
the one i whispered
as you walked away
the one i whispered
as i tried to convince myself that
this flame in front of me
is as fantastic to see
as your eyes

whisper over your shoulder
whisper through the wires
whisper til your eyes leak
that's what your chest requires

look at me
rambling on again.
waiting on an October wish

when i sat next to you
your smell gently fingered my nose
with nauseating familiarity

You were wearing the same shirt
that you were wearing
the last time we shared words
and a sitting space

You didn't notice me at first
you were in your textbook
navigating numbers beyond my comprehension
you were in your music box
the one i paid for
only because i lost the other one in the first place

I admired you as you wrote down
what was correct
I was smiling
with a nauseating familiarity

You saw me
and the smile flew away
as did the past i wish i was in

we talked for a while
and that was it
and we went home
and we went to sleep

we were i
and we were you
but we're not anymore

my grandfather told me
that i was full of ennui

he said that he could see it in my poems.
he could see it spreading
like moss
from the space between the sentences and the
ends of them

he said that it slid from my ears
like life
from another man,
hung up on some perpendicular problem

he said it was present in my eyes.
like the sky,
what once was blue
is now  gray

he felt it in my sleeve,
reaching out to meet his hand
and grip it,
without enthusiasm

he told me that it was familiar.
that its face had worn him,
this ennui

Am I it,
or is it I?

"You are full of Ennui,"
my grandfather said to me

"no"
i told him
"everyone else is."

He laughed,
without enthusiasm.

the moon and the sky
began to cry
dotting the sky's completion with tears
burning millions of miles away

the sky,
because his love,
the sun,
has run away with the sea.
she submerged herself
in his green eyes

the moon,
because her love,
the sky,
is blinded by the blushing sun.
he's haunted by his white-tipped fingers
on her bronze skin

Neither of them realize
that they cry for the same sadness.
Neither of them
See
that they are already holding each other

my glass accomplice
cups his filthy shinning hands
to hold tonight's crime

as i fill his bowl
with a rusty dancing flame
i stop his screaming

my lips on his mouth
the flame in his head grows bright
smoke spins in my lungs

these are my matches
bones in a box
this is what's left
of my last pair of socks
this is my nose
choked up and dripping
this is my grip
rapidly slipping

in this, my prelude to winter
i miss the sun of summer
when the clock won't keep up with the drummer
and the tension is tight in the springs
i miss the sweet sun of summer
in this, my prelude to winter
and the clock won't keep up with the drummer
the tension is tight in the springs

These are the snow flakes
caught in a frenzy
This is the feeling
that loneliness lends me
These are my eyes
this is my shoe
both are now worn
both are still blue

there's nothing to do
but watch the leaves fall in flames
watch the leaves fall in flames

in this, my prelude to winter
i miss the sun of summer
when the clock won't keep up with the drummer
and the tension is tight in the springs
i miss the sweet sun of summer
in this, my prelude to winter
when the clock won't keep up with the drummer
and the tension is tight in the springs

I can never feel the thing i say
and what I write is just a shade
a patch of color without an outline

The outline was carried away by smoke one night
that night she cried
that night she loved
that night she did nothing at all
they were all the same night

This past year has been that night
i fell asleep
I feel asleep
i want to wake up
but if I did, what would happen to this dream?
these familiar colors
this familiar air.
I feel as if I wake up
there will be no air
or worse, no color.

I'll make excuses about the stars
i'll say i never want my eyes to stray
i'll say i never want to go away
but i'm still not here

I'll say
"leave me,
this heart needs to bleed
else how could it beat?"
I'll eat a star to burn my heart.
to teach it to beat while it burns
under rising smoke

I apologize if you're scared by sparks

My eyes closed.
I search gently through the darkness for your face
like a blind man.
My lips open,
I find your sighing, smiling face
in the dark.
My arms flung,
I explore you slowly with screaming fingers
like a blind man.
My feet flexed,
I feel bursts of light in orange and blue
in the dark.
My legs hot,
I laugh with what lies under our fingers
like a blind man.
My self bare,
I wear nothing but your legs and lips
in the dark.

It's raining outside
and
These beautiful things
shining through my tears
will feel the drops
but never know my fears
how could they if I don't?

Rain drops
Falling from the trees
into the sky
and you never ask why
ignore the dots in the sky
they're not there

Rain  falls
on tattooed tough guys
littering sidewalks with spit
say they're trying to quit
cigs for the sixth time
and he's tired of lie
tied together to hide
his head when he cries
from better eyes

It's raining outside
Slight stirrings before sunrise
split seconds of conscientiousness
before slipping into a sea of dreams
I always have the most vivid dreams
while the sun is rising

It's raining outside
but not in here
not in my head
not in my bed

I sway outside a wrecked poet's window
daily I see his mind raked
by fingers of clawing creation
I know his smiles are faked

My fractal arms forever aloft
my waiting blossoms and leaves
see his progress on falling apart
a soul strained through so many sieves

Changing seasons, personal treason
troubled the poet till May
when the spring brought his desired muse
as I am sorry to say

This story's been sung time and again
through mine own branches told
if you hark unto the sweet spring air
you'll see it yourself unfold

i wish i could
get a terrible sickness
just to purge it
to puke it out
to be rid the emptied house of my body
of cobwebs
that grow increasingly more numorus
it seems
with the passing days

i wish i could
recognize a face in a crowd
just to know it
among so many others
to wear that mask a moment
just to know it
because there is so much value
in being known

i wish i could
speak words unspoken
to turn heads
so that they may hear
what it is to be heard
so that they may listen to
the silence pacing priestly behind me

the shadow of a pen
held in the hands
of political men
looks like a serpent
more than jury stands
man's power was meant
for more than this
for distant lands
and constant kiss
a love that was sent
that people dismiss
and the men will sign
with serpent pens
the dotted line
to make an end

you cling to me like water does
when i emerge from a lush pool
two thousand droplets dripping doves
fall from a lucky fool

I'm lying 'low a lovely sun
the doves ascend as vapor
to lift my hand to the wall
of a love poem's paper

you left when i went too far
in your eyes the ice
melting alone in your car
the doves flew from your eyes

volcanic ash falling
fast from a cigarette
something in the beat calling
you've felt this I bet
searching for a fleeting fix
but everything is good, set
caught up in a tired mix
you've felt this I bet

you left another shirt in my room
and soon after you left
i wept into the fiber like a liar
and the wires in the walls
made my skin crawl
and fall out of place
in any case, i saw your face
my saving grace when i misplace
the space in my mind
bobby pin left behind
underneath two grinding spines
still reminds me of the sky
your eyes and why
you said goodbye
that night

running through the trees
dodging roots and leaves
As I live and breathe
stories that I weave
are the only sieves
Worthy to edit me
weakened knees
under the sheets
you take your leave
i fall asleep

I don’t like the space
My body inhabits
Dreams disappear
Like white rabbits
and the fear
of thrown fits
and spits dripping slick
of some sick
grows near
to the thicket
where my dear
and i would kick it
share words
and share spit with
loose tongues
that won't quit
i love her
and she knows it

the whites of her eyes weren't bright last night
more dyed, like a smoker's tooth brush
chyme coming up, cheap *****, 7-up
after we felt lush, trying not to move much
so as not to wake her
so as not to shake her from a slumber
just to, in a haze, lumber encumbered
towards her days numbered
so i'll just lie there until her sky eyes open
i'll lie there until her sky eyes open
lie there until her sky eyes open
until her sky eyes open

there's not a word original
when the eyes are starting to dull
on the lips of beatniks that pull
their inspiration from the lull
in their mind's eye
when blue skies fly
above the lie
i told you
just to hold you
a while longer
it made me stronger

A face silhouetted by a computer screen
Electronic radiant light
Cast color ‘cross his face lean
Smiles in surrender’s might
Dismissing where the moral compass points
Wandering eyes see
Accompanying the computer is three joints
And a hidden key
Burning cherry, burning soul
Water starts to boil
Set another unachievable goal
Return to the soil
All the children committing fast food suicide
They love to eat sweets because it makes teeth cry

It's easy to say things when they don't mean anything,
and that's how I've always gotten by.
But then I said something that ripped off my skin,
and my sea-soaked beauty didn't want to give in.
She ****** me, I ****** her,
we danced all night,
I wrote her a poem,
when I forgot how to write.

Come on, let’s play some music
Let’s let it out of our fingers
And feet
You pluck my heartstrings
And I’ll keep the beat
With this sound
We pass around
And the way it makes your skin shake
No need to frown
Or be down
When we see the shapes our faces make

Drape you mistakes on the back of the chair
Stretch to the ceiling
Let down your hair
Pretend that the sky outside isn’t there
And I’ll show you my music

I cannot help to look
At the cracks and the crooks
In the space in your eyes
Filled with your cries
As if maybe it’ll bring back
Our music

Come on, let’s play some music
Let’s let it out of our fingers
And feet
You pluck my heartstrings
And I’ll keep the beat
With this sound
We pass around
And the way it makes your skin shake
No need to frown
Or be down
When we see the shapes our faces make

I caress the stone upon which I lie as a faithful lover
and seeping warmth from above sun, balanced atop blue sky cover
I hear the violent river gently light upon the stone
as I sit upon earths sculpture as a natural throne
tiny tributaries trickle slowly forming elegant art
as light fairies dance from water where graceful minnows dart
and as I sit upon my throne, as one who rules supreme
my eyes and ears absorb all that is beautiful and serene
the water flows supporting life and softening the earth
while to happiness, joy and peace, it gives selfless birth
so if you wonder upon this land of the continuous giver
remember this land, remember it well, this magic in the river

someday
i'll translate you
into music

embodied in a note,
a phrase,
a lyric, a voice
my voice.

I will slip you into
the ears of those who still listen.
I will keep you
on the tip of my tongue,
so that you'll always have somewhere to dance.

stay just a while longer.
let me be your witness,
so that i may know you.
let me be your arbiter,
so that i may push you,
if ever so gently,
toward where your feet won't carry you.

someday i'll translate you into music

Walking down the street;
I had just slipped into something comfortable.
ironic

I saw your head between
the horizon and the sidewalk,
and smiled at your lips
silhouetted.
you didn't turn.
i didn't want you too.
you didn't.

why didn't you turn?

suddenly the rain hit me like
paint.
i imagined the cityscape drowned
in the paint rain.

It filled the transparent drops of gray
with the sky,
and your eyes,
and that look on your face

surfaces striking simutaniously
and spreading reflected light into my eyes,
like a sunset.
the spilling of
the sky,
your eyes,
the look on your face

i took cover in a man hole.
the shaft of illumination
from above
making me
half a man

the paint rain still came down
dripping into my
privacy.

i stayed there;
not due
to apathy, anger
or you.
but just so i could see
the paint rain fall

i drowned like the city in the paint rain.
drenched in color.
soaked.
i drowned in the paint rain,
that wasn't gray today

i drowned like the city
in the sky,
in your eyes,

i drowned in that look on your face

your the one
with the missing smile
who mistakes my honest love
for guile
and i know it may
take a while
for your mind to change

you'll always be on a horizon

i'm the one
with empty eyes
who is always looking toward
the skys
all i can do is
apologise
for the things i don't want

you'll always be on a horizon

i'm glad i can see the sadness
in your eyes
i take pride in my ability
to sympathize

but our tears
follow different paths
down different faces.

i know the trail your tears take.
I've walked upon your fleshy mantle.
and when the rain fell
I took cover under your eye lids

look at me, i'll look at you
there's nothing i would rather do
than pet your hair and gently coo
away the colors turning blue

There's a man who lives down the street,
he wears nothing but dirt on his feet,
if you ask him his name,
he'll say he was framed,
and notice the sky's not complete.

He lives by himself in the park,
his ****** expressions are stark,
he always lies,
but when he closes his eyes,
he sees something besides the dark.

You've walked past him before,
his mouth agape like a door,
his hands long to hold,
a warmth that's now cold,
a light shining inside a drawer,
a light spilling across the floor,
a light easiest to ignore,
the light in his head,
will shine til he's dead,
don't be blind anymore.

Ignight matches, ember flashes;
skatter ashes, synapse crashes.
shattered egos, falling seagulls;
escaped evils, louring reels.
when the past begins ignition,
animate my superstitions,
demonstrate simple submission.
after my final decision,
with unbelievable percision.
stay the course, on a mission;
the death of all know memory;
stems the voice to reach my ear;
the foolishness of men I see;
neon fantacy without fear.
the audacity of the dead blooming,
the understanding in darkness looming,
the screaming, flying, fading, fuming,
tendency to hate consuming.
spreading spores to distant shores,
apple cores and opened doors.
fleeing, fighting, never lying,
down apon this ancient ground;
**** this town, it's over now;
**** this town, let's end it now.
In the turn of pages and sheets,
the end is something that's bound to repeat.

The sounds that come
from
us.
They dance beside your water-bed.
Laughing at the walls.
Rolling down the sheets.
Seizing in ecstasy.
Rippling and waving
everything away.
besides,
the sounds that come
from
us.

i don't watch the news
because people don't matter.
should you give something back?
or keep growing fatter?
if it were up to me
id not choose the latter.
you can call me insane
but it's you who's the hatter.

Has everyone felt what she felt?
Betrayal,
dragging me behind her
with a noose of
guilt.

Has everyone felt what I feel?
has everyone made a mistake?
the dirt under my nails
laughs at me
"no" it says
"you are imperfect,
evil,
different.
Look and see
your blind eyes,
crying brilliant tears.
Your dumb mouth,
kissing fire,
because it makes you happy."

I know it's right,
the dirt under my fingernails,
and i rarely listen.