we are all of us; Love, that has not understood -
the meaning of Itself. far too fragile to grasp the
varnish from the night picket fence. but ever mindful
of our boundaries.

and found it.

when it never
made
sense.

in the weeds where the dark bees
believe in dark dreams; savoring the frostbitten
nostalgia of wet mittens and smokestacks
hacking hearth-smog and dingy bitters
against clouds from a nameless
grudge... spawn from downcast holly.
where red berries
gasp for yellow
in the crotch of a wooden Fluegelhorn
sprouting from the branch
of a hedge without
Lips.

But a mouth full of snow.

II

in the weeds where the dark bees
believe in atoms of uncorrupted joy and pollen.
where they collude with silent majorities
and swindle sunlight for a spawnsong
anchored to the beak of a kestrel...
shrieking the maniacal disquiet
of a perfect moment.

rattling the hinges -

adored.

without
a key.

I penned a pen bent out of my mind
asylum I seek, and of fetid dreams I reek
silence dreaded, but it seems it's all she can speak..

should have taken my time, but padded cells
they shook us to the core; in our loneliness
we held each other in embrace like no-one
has ever been held before; today I awoke
dizzy; confused, and admitted to another shore
one that swashes in pain; like an ocean of glass
and with each break, her memory shreds my heart like an open sore.

so I slowly begin to wash away the pain,
disaster being; my mind isn't even mine,
and it's always been that way;
even before I realized sanity was just a game
but in the grind of life,
it's a hellish reminder to not have been born very sane.

profusely I beg, and plead; but it's as plain as day,
she's never coming back; so slack, and bleed, and cut as we may;
administer the habitual as I plead and pray--
not to cut too deep; because this life
it's already taken most of me away.

If you faced it, what's left to fear?

the searing sound of harmony
seeping through madness in trembling tears
ringing false scents of roses
like men ****** to breathing jaded air
and everything that's been has crowded thoughts
of plagued mindsets beset to foreign dances
I see I, and all that I've been..

I see I, dancing
through blackened flames
I see I and I've seen you..

And now that I've seen you..
what is there left to fear?

Gorgeous rhythms and soothing shadows
haunt words yet to be said through the
pale light of a thousand years

I've never been all that I could dream
Now everything I can say is as a boat
lost at sea, sailing into darkness
never to be seen
to never have been conceived
in this world that's nothing more
than a hallow sleepy dream.

This is

The end of a phase
The beginning of an era

Where hope is the villain
and everything bright with dreams
of happy endings

Is perused with intent to ****
I'm not your friend
I'm not your savior

I am the gun
buried in the hate
of everyone who's ever felt
the sting of betrayal, the whip
of hate searing it's name
into the bowels of your heart

I am the beginning, the ending
of everything to come
I am your friend burying the knife
in the back of everything you believe

I am a creature of your makings
Feed me, Keep me
Hate me HATE ME

And just before you forget me,

Remember all that's been done
before its too late and everything you love
becomes forsaken, destroyed
and is left in the wake of everything,
everything you've had me become..

You know, when the police show up,
and take you away; it's imperative to know the narrative, and....
When you know just the right thing's to say,
an actor without a conscious, or desire to face
the days to come.

I'm a pretender, and a liar and a fake.
snakes slither contaminating my mind...

a laminated love letter that I just can't seem to leave behind,
I hide inside, and aside from my faceless faces

I can't remove the deep pain withering away
every last bit of my rotting insides,

I demand prosperity, while I live the life of a degenerate
taking whatever will **** the pain, anything to make
the pointlessness feel legitimate,

and if I die tonight, take my body and turn it to ash<3
let there be some hope tonight, It's a profound
intervention- invented from experience of locked doors
closed minds, and drooling humanity.

I can't fix this world; and the world can't fix me,
it's just another way to avoid moving on
seroquel dreams, and klonopin pulsing through my veins
I'm a fool, a ghost, just the shadow of a man
that used to hang pictures of his heroes on the wall
king, gandhi, teresa, dali, nhat hanh
and one day it came to an end,
and the pictures; burned, and ****** on
just to put them out.

god please, let me live and die by my accord,
for this world was never meant for me,
yet, my dream is to see the world turn
and burn away the greed, desire, and hatred

I'm just so tired, and if I'm lucky
the police will never return
because

I just wasn't ready for them to blow my brains away
like a million pink blossoms blowing in the wind,
and excuse my slang, because I believe it will end
with nothing less, and nothing more
then one loud BANG.

Basking in the dolphin sun, frothy pearls of laughter abide.
Children at play... and blue thunder sky blotting out the void.
All around, a great swarm of beatitude, unhinged from the workaday.
A grand tumult of sugar, cast upon the waters of Now.

We eat with our hands.... all dreams.

And have all dreams, somehow.

CHAPTER ONE: "Down Here, Every Thang Is I Level. "

they skate, when the lights bark -
like hard rabbits, harboring no hope
and too much dope.
and fatherless.
so follow this preamble
to its conclusion,
and ponder it.

the streets don't front. but the lost ghosts -
are on to Us...


CHAPTER TWO: " How Ghettoes Eat Cheese To Build Prisons "

It was next week when i knew
i would be too black to ride my bike.
so i stole a car from night's garage
and that's when i was stereotyped
and tiptoed into footnotes of my struggle
a neer-do-well. but held my bells close .
to sing a song, i couldn't sing
myself.


CHAPTER THREE : " Shouldn't You ? "

I have no words for this.