Around the grave, they all gather, as they quietly begin to mourn

In the middle of their hearts, stands a lonely thorn.

Poking and stabbing, and jabbing away, everything seems so lost.

Though it's winter, it's so cold, they don't mind old Jack Frost.



A man has fallen in a war, something that shouldn't be fought

But the government has it's lie, freedom should be bought

Around the nation, the people wonder why they need to mourn

It's the lies, it's the lies, being told by this lonely thorn.



The weapons blast, people die, blood spills upon the ground

Some people die, gone forever, their bodies are never found.

War is war, there are no sides, nobody can truly win.

But thanks to him, the war goes on, this should have been a sin.



The battles rage on, people fall, and families start to mourn

For the lies, that were told, now people are getting scorned.

There's a lesson in all of this, but nobody will ever see

It doesn't take blood, nor mass death, to continue to be free.



And so the family begins to cry, they slander that one thorn

The bell goes off as they leave, darkness is what they worn.

God stands next to them, trying to give them comfort

It's okay, my lonely child, I'm sorry for the hurt.



War is hell, hell is war, this is what we know.

People die, in the end, and the rivers end it's flow.

All shall stop, not a sound, except from a single horn.

Thanks to them we are dead, and now we are your thorn.

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

i woke up at four am
you had died approximately three hours before
i got chills and lay impossibly still
with wide eyes
there was something
all around me

i climbed cautiously
down to the bathroom
to smoke a cigarette
as if someone
was watching

i drank a lot
of water

now whenever i get chills
i think it is you
trying to touch me

today as i methodically
wiped down tables
a radio broadcast in the background
was having a deep
sunday night personal in-depth hour
on the talk show
and all this losing a loved one
and a piece of me
****
is really getting to me
because you're still here
aren't i breathing?

this feeling is not a wishbone
it breaks evenly
and we walked away
with half of each

Posing squirrels
Legs crossed
Hands on hips
Chins held high
And a smile to drive
Your mind like
A merry-go-round!

Talking trees
Strong limbs
Thin and thick
******* for more space
Their high and low
Pitched voices
Sending thunders through
The ear-holes  
Of birds
Zigzagging
For escape
Through the branches

Dancing water
Taking form of the
Most beautiful treasures
The eye can behold
Then suddenly transforming
To a most frightening sight!
In one moment
A nymph strumming the
Horse gut strings
Of an oak guitar
An instant later
A giant serpent
All slim and
Venomous goo
With the head of
The death crone
The legs of a
Rooster
It's iguana tongue
Searching for
Your face!

You look at your own
Reflection in the mirror
You try to speak to
Yourself
Only you have
No mouth
No ears
No nose
No taste or voice
No ability to listen
No smell
But what's this!?
You ask...
My reflection has all these things!
And with the
Evil jest of a
Jealous twin
Your mirror self
Mocks you!
Poking out her tongue
Dancing to music
You can't hear
And making exaggerated
Sniffs of the
Perfume air...
All this
with only your
Eyes to see
What a nightmare!

Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not physically in our world!
If that were the case...
What kind of world
Would we live in?
Skeletons wearing
Coconuts
Singing karaoke...
Hummingbirds
******* the juice
From our eyeballs...  
Again I say
Thank nature
Our imagination
Roams free in our head
Not freely
In our world!


*Inspired at a festival, while
I observed all the fun happening around.

In the winter stands a tree
Its branches withered swords
And here it weeps eternally
For the coldness in its cords.
And if you ask its birds to sing,
They will laugh and cry and call you names
But not one note will ring.

In the springtime sprout its leaves
With flowers purple orange and green
But where melodious harmony should conceive
Still the birds they do not preen.
And if you ask the birds to fly
They will flap and fall and curse your name
And leave you with another sigh.

In heat and love and summer rain
Trails the vestige of a tortured king,
And at his fingers and in his veins
Pumps a sap so aptly named.
And if you ask the birds to dance
They'll stumble jest and fall at best
But not a one will prance.

In the dying, brittle autumn breeze
Sway the heavy dreadful barren things
Of a trunk infused with sad disease
That brings to ground those with wings.
And if you ask the birds to leave
They'll squawk and say, “but here, we're kings!”
And forever you will see the reeve.

But if you ask the birds about the tree
They'll look around so nervously
And out of key and harmony
They'll tell you how they killed her gracefully

Now ask the willow why she weeps,
Why she cries herself to dreary sleep;
She'll just wave her withered fingers low
To some mesmeric ancient flow.

But you need no explanation
For the dead decayed and dying--
Silence is the song of passion's passing beauty.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

Caress your soul and keep it clean
Try not to immerse it into fight
Riots are for the dreamriders
And those who can't see light

Weren't you a dreamer once?
Weren't I a restless imp?
Now we write about fairies
As quills break on undrying ink

Boiling water surrounding me
And a crater,exhailing mud and dust
Yet all I do is gaze at galaxies
And tie my seatbelt steadfast

Would you call yourself inactive?
Would you take up all the guilt?
I,for once,made vows of nothing
And promised myself I wouldn't quit

Once you thought you were different
Once I thought I could be sane
Now we are waving flags to tyrants
Draining blood from a promising vein

All that is left,a lethal passion
Enjoying life,a devouring madness
Every white dove I meet is murdered
Leviathan grows,destroying my kindness

Thus here I stand,beneath hell's tides
And watching as the ship goes down
I play my harp to soothe the pain
Of those who are about to drown...


"About us.At present"