living and dying
what a strange combination
of commonplace
and extraordinary

It was night
There were no clouds in the sky,
Just stars in the black sea.
Noise spilled through the doors of the bar.
Outside the Brass Rail people with alcohol in their system
And the ***** in their lungs crowd the 49 highway.
In the middle of the road,
Where the white and yellow lines run parallel,
A wild smiling girl sets the triangle of bowling pins.
A ways down the highway line, a smiling man with blond dreadlocks
Swings his arms back and forth, ready to threw the ball.
The wild girl moves, the man throws his ball, the crowd cheers, trucks honk,
And the pins are hit!
Everyone jumps in the air, everyone claps and whistles,
And the game starts over again.
Bowling on highway 49 in North San Juan, California.
These wild free spirits are my friends.

Human beings are we all,
Each of us sharing views, that differ and are similar, and
Hang suspended in the air
By pieces of thread called emotions.

We all hold to our minds
Thoughts of hate and sorrow,
Revenge and jealousy.
The mind is the chamber of negative secrets.

We all hold to our hearts
Feelings of love and joy,
Happiness and bliss.
The heart is the bed chamber of positive secrets.

The beating rhythmic heart in the center of our chest
Is the one thing that forever remains pure.
The thudding mass of brain that is our mind
Is what is susceptible to pollution.

If every human being follows their heart
And not what their mind thinks is correct,
No one in this world will be lost.

do you feel the breeze of cosmic dust,
as it rains down on eyes that can not see spectrums of brilliance?

beneath            one                            effacing       ­        blush
                          simmers         veil ties               liquidly i stare
                                                  fears   pink with praise      lusts withheld       thimble shames
embalm a gift identity
                  daily sunny graves    
                                       dissembled life

with deeper breath akin to fisher netting cast
                     fog caress mneumosyne             lover's misty thigh
                                                           ­                                      traps me willingly  
blinded   i taste ambrosia
                          gazing at between zones                               believing anything again

cliches pyroclastically reborn in celebrants of ash and cynic deaths
            energetic     swim         i stroke   a butterfly        in Love
                                instant tribadists      commit   a joyous toast to joy itself

the one i write for
is the one --
i write for one,
the one among --
the only one--
one lonely solitude
i write for one.
you are the one;
i write for you --
the one who reads
and knows i write
for just the chance,
that one among
the many, that one
i write for,
that one
that you
who reads and feels --
the one who knows,
the one,
the one i write for
is the one you know
as you.

His eyes glazed over
          her art
      and missed the nuances
          small sounds
          measured movements
     Never saw it coming


Her eyes were blue
        and black
    defending him
          against her better judgment
     her face brushed
          in natural blushes
          and smokey greys
     that made me yell FIRE


They were a pristine model,
     he, a snapshot of time
     she, the painted portrait
               Je t'embrasse,
                        Marie A.


She was beautiful, and
he was happy
     to leave her hanging
     on a wall

I've braved the life of living in the past,
Of caring for what never cared for me.
I've watched a hundred thousand days be flashed
like glints of sun across a choppy sea.
I've never taken tea with foreign kings,
but I could tell you tales of how I have,
and in those fleeting moments, fickle things,
my words would be your melancholy's salve.
I read my tales and stories with a head
that sits upon a swivel and a lie,
and every word I've written, thought, or said
will follow you until the day you die.
A greater sun as never shone on me
Than when I found my immortality.

soliloquies of silence
interrupted by fresh dewed tips -
and subtle variations of tingling sensations
where do i start..
pressure before the storm.....
illustrious clouds break open heavenly showers of golden light rainbow water droplets
and i’m coated in the elixir of a thousand sunset,sunrise,noon time clouds
painted by the colors that these mischievous droplets of water have been ,

it is dreamscapes luxuries that escape in mid afternoon ,
mid night time


at invitations glance
and slight brush stroke of hand leads to quiet moan from lips escape the mind pleasantly ******* in a pearl like haze

invisible fingers wonder yonder and invisible lips bite at soft spots
yet

the experiment continues for the transference of energy cascaded gathered up in
chakra centers with bounce between head and root three times then down to earth then up to crown the energy returns electric.