"Death's gaze ever present on it's tentacles
A weight of power unformidable
Crashing down upon its victims"


Beware the Kraken! A monster of seas
The one sung about in many shanties
Marauding, ripping, and crushing its victims
This a myth by which the crew schisms
But the unsteady seas beneath the hull
Bubbling and boiling, the ocean calls
Unleashing from the bowels of the deep
A beast of lost worlds, oceans it reaps
The Kraken, awaken, outstretches it limbs
The skies are blackened, the heavens dim
With tyrannical force he unfurls his power
The mast snaps, wood shards and splinters shower
Fearful men aboard are pulled to a watery grave
Oceanic law, for this crew of knaves
The last aboard the teetering deck
A captain standing tall within the wreck
Howling at the beast below
Again tentacles high above the sea grow
Dragging the wreckage into the water
Appeasing the beast, the great destroyer

High above the teetering mast
A shout long awaited is heard at last
"Land **! Land **! Straight ahead"
Across the sea, the mariners sped

The mass of land, close in range
Ominously, the winds have changed
The ship drops anchor a hundred yards out
Rowing in without a doubt

Making landfall, the ****** cheered
A great appraisal to Brown Beard
Gallivanting, their songs sung loud
Roused, the sea soughed

Ripping from the strenuous tides
The monster emerges, the sea divides
Crashing down upon the ship
Fearful men tighten their grip

Threshing about as the beast descends
Into the depths where the mirk never ends
Duped, the mariners take their last breath
Inhaling, the seas grant them their death

Bloated corpses resurfacing
The dubious island repositioning
Full, the gulls await
For the next to take the bate

The leaves drift down around the man-
made contours curbside. As they
ride the current, bellies up, skimming the
surface
         like a school of dead fish,
         dully
lulling in the orbit of the gutter;
Disturbed by a porcelain drifter,
she stutters under a dim street light,
her feet unfold to the
b a r c o d e symmetry. A
silhouette of ethereal beauty
when she turns to face he,
et devient
librement

Watch as the world turns a cold shoulder
Watch as the man stands, hands on head
        dead, silence emits a deafening roar
Watch as the kids pick up guns
        suns expiring, darkening
        the day before it's hour
Watch as the woman morns
        the one she'd adorn means nothing any more
        another 'x' on sheet
Watch as the world numbs itself
Watch as the coward next to you smokes himself
        To Death, too afraid to do it quickly.
        He has no passion watching the cherry lengthen
Watch as the humans demean their existence
        Persistent to vacate the throne
        "Long live Technology!"
Watch as the world takes everything back
Watch as the television melted minds
        fall fast, in-adept
        survival of the fittest on a grandeur scale
        frailty unveiled
Watch through the window
        afraid of life
...just keep watching.

There's a malevolent, benevolent storm on the coast,
boasting unsurpassable power.
I used to feel a mother's embrace here, in the
displacement. The imprint of my mortal mold
through the waves,
but now these white caps
remind me of frequencies written in bed sheets.
My feet freeze and
melt into the sand.
Commanding my stature be strong
as these longing strides return me
diligently to the seas,
free of the once binding shackles;
your infidelity.

I am everywhere
I am nowhere
I am the last one you'll think about
I am the first one you'll dream about
I am the sun at it's brightest
I am the moon in it's shyness
I am organized
I am lost
I am the breath of the wind
I am the deprivation of space
I am knowledgeable
I am still asking questions
I am of this world
but I am not a part of it

what mystery do I have to offer?
I am but a man thus here sought after
I can show you all, but you'll never know me
I am my own worst enemy.

the passage through time is quite uneasy
imbedded in concrete; consciousness dreamy
faces skewing, anemic monsters
intricate patterns, enhances, obscures
repetition, repetition, repetition, repetition,
incomprehension, incomprehension
i can't continue, can't vacate
i'm only human, my souls to take
i discovered what it means to be
when you can truly see
the epiphany of heavenly monstrosity
visions of a black hole theory
i've seen all of time in one moment
the future, the past, times of atonement
lucid and frightful
enlightening and grateful
heartbeat steadies
i think i'm ready
to explore the world from a different standpoint
and fully know this is not an endpoint
it's forever changing
and we're made for adapting
our primal nature's to live
i will never be held captive

Pyres of cityscapes burn contingently in the distance
ever drunk with blood of a mother, a nurturer who asks
nothing of the morose, self-consumed existence
she cares for. Her brow cocked,
wrinkles descend like
rain that tears down
a window.
Pain.
You're bleeding out! But she'll never put herself
forefront. How could she? Sitting, reflecting.
Tormented by incompetence, her soft
voice silently flutters the leaves.
Drearily an extension of her lips, the words
escape the cusps like a cautious prairie-dog.
Smog obscures
the senses, a haze
darkening the pupils of your celestial eyes.
I still see You
drooping in the rocker under a hard light. Retaining know-
ledge of past and present, through spectacles.
Her deflating ****, secreting
concrete into the sucklings, cementing fate,
as the clock that hangs above her falters. I shutter to think of the
future that's afore. When the one who's raised me is not.
No more.
Your timber limbs look awfully thin. Restless and alone,
she's tired. "Abandoned"
we're all alone,
but your company means more to me than a sustainable
stone.

Like the infertile young debonair of the American Dream,
whiskey dicked, and moaning
over the sweaty heap of calloused flesh,
my "relationships" are brimful of
disappointment. The throngs of love drunk
junkies eager to play, dressed for the
Concert of Apollo and the Muses.
Naked grudges,
threshing and gushing
the way the chicken did;
grandmother with head in hand.
Rhythmic and off beat,
instinctual. Begging; more, more,
more. They're beginning
to wear the same face,
a carnal imprint of
satisfaction.
But I know they don't see me,
how could they, lying, eyes
rolling in the back of their
heads?
My eyes
still.
I can picture your face here but it'd never do,
subdued
issues of a fallacy state.
Irate.
How could you leave this impression?
Emotional digression.
I've promised myself time
and time again not to fall for the same old ****,
that kiss, that ******
blood-inked kiss.
But the insulin fused memories scream. I
detest the wretchedness I've exposed
myself
to. A period of forgetting
you, but the passage of time
pulling grain from grain, uplifts my disdain.
I finally feel comfortable unveiled,
awaken, lying next to
the humming lips of a
foreign swain.

Outstretched over tightly woven grids of
interlaced cityscapes,
storm clouds purge their bodies.
Rolling thunder claps, snapping like a rattrap
executioner.
Lightning strikes,
it
follows
along to:
Fibonacci's beat
one and one is two and one is
three and two is five
and three is
eight. Eight
legs,
like the ****** who spun
these threads of buildings with a widows
design. All the while wearing her
        red sign
             of
        warning,
this city will ensnare you, and bleed
you dry.

Voyeuristic, the eyes of a lover
Withholding truths of the world perceived
Forming assumptions, a great deceiver
Digging graves in what is firmly believed
So with these few words,
   A formal closure
Let no more be written
   Of past allures

I suppose I should have caught warning,
the banshees singing to me should have
been enough. They knew you better than
I it would appear, which disgusts me it
took three years to reach my ears,
only taken in like the slow drip of
morphine. Or

maybe it was  more like the shrieks of
helpless swine herded into the pig plant,
the way the tires tongued the pavement.
The way their tongues persuaded you.
The trail of saliva shadows your past;
ebony brushstrokes, but

not quiet charcoal. Like the pint I had
forced down my throat a week prior. Lying
in the hospital bed warmed by the hollow
embrace of death, or whiskey, or both. It
wriggled through my esophagus,
escaping the ensnaring confines
of the cocoon. Ribbed with flesh,

the ceiling, walls, and floor. Encroach.
Displacing my weakened stomach, from toe
to toe, across the crevice ridden glacier
most would call a spine. I'm jarred awake
to experience the black sludge again. Before I can
**** I'm in another white room. I should
have known something was wrong,

the impact of the hit obliterated any sense
of structure. I saw a glimpse of my reflection,
passing across three dimensions. Only the hole
outlined from your cigarette reminds me
you were ever there. We were

a great catastrophe. As a confidant voice
disrupts, "Is that everything?" The blue pen
dwindling in hand.
"I suppose. I won't fall for another pig in a poke."
The hour ends, and so does our session.

I've wanted to tell you for the past couple months I've been watching from afar
and your case my dear is quiet unsettling,
you see the simplicity of it is quiet unnerving.
You sit and you pry
You dine and you lie
to make it past another day.
Lead astray
by a fallacy preconceived in the womb
an encrypting tomb.
I've watched from afar as its slowly been sealing.
The means by which you're "dealing"
with the entropy of a reawakened life.
It's a combination of love and hate,
one of which no drug dare sedate.
Though some will tease
with attempts to please,
the hole that's there will never again be fulfilled
as the bearer will forever be left to rebuild
And I'll watch from afar as your life lies in ruins.
Only to see it begin
again and again, and again and again.
The monotony
of ******
of melancholy
of treachery
of the solitary
confines that have bound you here,
that hold you dear,
and whisper in your ear at night.
"It'll be alright."
These were the last words that I remember.
Before the stutter.
Before the games of a wretches confines
it's benign.
It's benign, and I will not here further dispute
this fact as I watch from afar, mute.
When will it feel like this never began?
Tell me, Oh tell me, my dear sweet Anne.

She jostles my collar and nibbles my ear
"Do you want to play?"
                                      play?...
                                              play?...


The word's echo in the corridor of my canal


                                ...do you?
The curtains drawn and sheets askew
flesh and fabric entwined
netted so well, neither dare move
but cocooned in ecstasy; mentally
and physically
as your heart-shaped crevice
firmly burrows into my pelvis.
I'm homeward bound.

Starring through
       the eye glass of this
Empty. Empty bottle,
and then another
       and another
I extort the plights of this world
Post-pubescent, Bile.
       The gutters reject the rain the same
Alleviated
by the glint. The glimmer
       of the OPEN sign cascading across your
Eyes, repress the boredom.
The subdued state of Euphoria.
So lets drop the glass
       and propose our toasts
Renegades on a destructive course.