My friends:
the fire hearted nomads;
the hard headed lunatics;
the kids with lion eyes.

We used to be the roots of a tree;
veins of an ox's heart.  
We used to be free,
but now we've fallen apart.

I said, you said, we said,
"This fire in my heart
is forever," but

naivety got the best of me.
Our fire died - and so - the tree.

The thumps of our ox's heart stopped beating.
Forever lost its meaning.

When I am thrown from a cliff
how will I address the spirits ?

With my limbs crashing in our wooden room ?
the primitive sectors of my mind in flames ?

When my tongue pushes sacred air I
invoke silent destruction

Every impure atom flounders
My blood will remain

Puking with ****** revelation
Giving lethal sanction to pure hearts

Creation is the mad bird that never sleeps
with its head beneath the blade

Our murderers will turn like surprised doves
but our oldest comrades will declare war

swept up in the most
beautiful night

there are no
words right now

I saw with my own eyes
the perfect portrayal
of beautiful indifference.

I saw it in the blue-green shades;
the swirling ocean waves;
bright stars in a dark, cool galaxy.

You held yourself,
back straight,
teeth white,
hair brushed,
and skin tan.

And I was bemused
with your wonderful perception.
Half your words whispered,
"Listen, I'm beautiful,"
but the other yelled softly
your impeccable intelligence.  

A true wonder;
a confusing marvel;
your blue-green eyes,
your sparkling smile,
and your wrathful blade,
sheathed behind a perfect portrayal
of beautiful indifference.

There is a woman I know and she speaks like she is dreaming

The fog in her throat pools on her tongue
It pulls me in and I wonder if I’m dreaming too

Wonder at what age my voice will be like hers
So gentle I listen carefully
Like what she is saying will eventually make sense

Like listening to that high caterpillar
Talk in tongues
And dancing language

I wish she were my grandmother
So visiting her at the nursing home wouldn’t be weird

A woman who looks like a coffee stain in red lipstick
offers her a ride back
Though it is walking distance

She takes the smoky dreamer’s bags
And leaves
Says she’ll help her with the bags at least

I’m so confused
Where are my bags?

I remind her not to worry

Oh I feel so lost sometimes
But everything feels familiar too
I’ll feel better after a nap maybe

This is déjà vu backwards

Like walking into an empty room
Still expecting to see you there
I still get surprised sometimes

I put my hand on her shoulder

She talks in dreams
And childhood mornings
Of stereotype
Of longing
Of knowing
That any day she’ll forget again

I still have to remind her my name
Even though she smiles when she sees me

Like
Why does this boy make me so happy?

And just like in dreams
Whenever everything makes no sense
You realize your dreaming
And then everything does

walk a few steps
past where the other
footprints end and
sometimes you'll find a
wonderful secret place

cleared and pristine, white
sand against green forest against
cool river water

all that's missing is reading
these words as I sleep