I am full of the perpetual water,
A thin mist forms around me:

Immense feelings hover here,
Joy on sadness,
Sadness on joy,
The manifestation of my
Drained consciousness.
    
    I am a living wound.

My wings splintered
Among the ruins,
Contained in this paradoxical shadow;
Nevertheless I further myself
Into this fading.

It is real the light,
I can see in from the shadows.

The delicate lips of time
Kiss my forehead diffusing
My ticking bomb,
Alas I am too far
From the clarity of happiness.

Life is a timeless matter
Where only the mist is real.

Above the spine of snow,
Calm ,white; and here floats
Ice crystals from a dead storm,
And there in the snow a child wins
With a snow ***** chance.

The frozen scapes- grey nostalgia-
With a peculiar memory
Recalls itself in its snowy drifts
And mania like senile tundra.

To add the sum of January
In enthusiastic forms of child play
Like a snow man in fleeces,
The memory is fused.

And far away,
Dreaming maybe of an abstract
Freeze in the heartfelt snow
A child is warmed by the memory.

Everyday people,
Everyday faces,
Everyday the same.

The sad ones,
The lonely ones,
The few moments in between.

All of the repetition
Speaking in repetitive
Statement one heard before.

And to have to be alive
Knowing that there all there
Is to life is is to live!

Its a divine day to think about
The apocalypse, to walk along
The final shores before the
Tsunami take me!

I take a walk in the night wonder,
I look on hopeful stars and think
If the inter- continental ballistic
Nuclear warhead will strike down the skies.

Sometimes in abstract silence,
I see comets the size of a football field,
They pass me by and say hello,
But they never seem to end the world!

And standing upright looking into
The oblivion, I feel the cool breeze
And sense the Ice Age coming on,
Then it all comes to a stop:

I realise I am just a man with
Too much time on his hands
Watching networks news and
Find that the end of the world is
Everyday.

What voice would reach you,
People who speak destruction,
With end time tones or in
The poetry of Bukowski?
So primitive in modern times,
Simple and complex;
Angels and demons.

You are the people,
Future devastation of our
Children with its spilling blood
And still praying to some peace
Loving god.

You are strong but empty,
Proud by unsure,
Cultured and diverse,
You oppose:
One another.

You are ****** and Jesus,
Mohamed and Napoleon,
Breaking the world and healing
The sick,
(You are your own worst enemy,
And your only friend)

You think life is ******,
That progress is martyrdom,
That the future is not on this
World;
             Yes.

You people are grand and powerful,
Whenever a belief is found
A profound shudder of ideals
Shakes the world,
And an enormous backbone
Of righteousness in the name of;
And the stars are yours,
Wether in hope or in a last dying glance
Before death,
Wealth and prosperity
Join faith and religion
To conquest one another,
Raising reason to live, to die.

You have consulted God
Which preserve your right to make
And destroy and to ****,
The footprints of blood money,
(Whose name is a star spangled
Atrocity)
Catholic,Muslim, Christian, Jewish,Hindu:
All humanity.

You are a bed of roses with
Thorns exposed.

Oh precious people,
Where has your humanity gone?

Not too long ago
You made me promise you a new
Love poem every morning.
At night when the stars came by
And the moon shed its light
On your face,
I knew I could not write the poem.
With all that combined in the moment,
I knew you were the poetry.
So I tried to remember
Life empty without you.
All the forgotten faces from my
Earlier years,
And it seemed a dream non existent.
The kind you forget when you suddenly
Wake and the visions fall
Like dust from the shoulder.
For a long time I wrote so many love poems
Without you,
I see now the promise was in the words
I had written so long ago,
The poem is you,
And I dare not write what is already written.

Hair unpinned,
Half smile,
More like a half moon
That shrugs off the day.

Arm at your side,
Like an angry mother,
Glued eyes to towards
Me and your presence
Exploded into my memory,
Subliminal walk skywise rises.

The weary fall
Through which you see the world,
The weary rose you were
As your presence burns through
The cold.

The portrait of your figure
As your memory
Burns the epitaph of your presence
Into the windows of the soul.

I prayed daily
Into the notes taken from
The trapped soul:

Take me as I am
And who I become
Is ours,
I know no moon that has
Not endured your
Friendships
And alone was always a choice.

I speak poetic
Into the flesh that I cannot
But dream away....
I flow into the river's edge
And the rocks wither
As moments
Whisper eternal,
Life is a word
The love a Sonnet
And the poet lives the poem.

Petrified,
        Obsidian stones,
Fire understood,
      Superfluous verbiages;
The mangled butterfly absorbed by light,
       Hope is born at the tongue,
Confirmation contorted,
     Clarification of the crystalline cries;
  In the whirlpool of the first
Swirling at the tip of the tongue
     Chanted in a litany of animalistic
Nature,
       There is only a man,
Singing solar solstice,
     Staring into sun stars
Splitting solitary shadows,
     The end of the beginning,
Man and fires
Speak the dust,
       Tears of the evocative death,
Rebirth in memory,
Memorial in melancholia,
Misty eyed men mention losses,
      Speak the grief,
Speak the rage,
         Man that is man,
Tongue of emotional images,
                Speak as the first word,
A tree of names,
      Yes, the word,
Words,
       The poem everlasting
Longing to be unspoken.

Dust of dawn, red of sun
Hell bent on losses winning
On chances.

I am the discoursed wind flowimg
Like waters edge
Over lost eyes and questions
Remain,
Silence happens
And laced within the legend
Of never was.

Why didnt I?
Haunted happens too.

The solar song is born
And a dream is wished

With hope to sky
       I birthed a star

I invented a thousand moons
In maternal orbit

I wished to see you again
Stilled forever in my universe

          The Blue Sun dawns
          Evoking the crystalline moon

I made a new world
        Where mine was before

With my mind I made new oceans
And lovers on a lone island

         I made new flowers
         From all the spectral lights

And I taught the a new language
Of song

I watch this place from the departing
Home

I'm the Stargazer
            With a broken heart

I hear a sigh
Across the sky,
Filling the stars
And fulfilling life....
No sigh; it is my daughter
Waking from sleep.

With a sigh I wake from a dream,
The cold morning fills my eyes
And that wonderful place
I was just now begins to haze.

I question everything,
I  breathe myself into existence,
Here and now,
The quiet longing fills me
As the beginning of this day repeat
As a thousand before them

      I must seize the here,
      Trouble grasping the now,
      My last returns to secret
      Cold peaks.

Did I lose my life in the dream?
I'm here now, am I?
Is this another dream, born from
Loss and pain and everything I
Hope to gain?

I am lost in the morning:
Coffee,
Surely I will emerge from this stupor,
I blink and I am walking toward
My tomb of toiling,
Compensating life.
Sometimes in the middle of my work
I can meditate,
A single mind and body emerges,
The cradle of my being becomes
An iceberg thawing unshed tears,
I am winning/losing my day.

Stop! Enough!
I feel faceless in a sea of faces,
Said my mind
Stuck in its grind,
The hours are vapor.

        Withdraw into ghosts,
        The eye with you always,
        To lose the self is to-

I am the mirror of a reflection,
The reflection does not live,
God the stranger in my prayers,
I myself, the essense of me
Is not my definition,
But if I am what I do,
Am I nothing?
God, lord of my conflict,
I pay my bills and taxes in the architecture
Of your world,
Why am I in slow decomposition?
In this parade of shadows,
Where is the true meaning?

      Child of the dust,
      Time is no promise,
      Do what you can
      While you can do it.

Evening:
Home and my forehead is taller
And taller,
I sense the moment faded
But here,
Life I am your hostage,
I am tired again,
I begin to freeze again,
Luminous cold setting in
On a deep darkness,
Fill me with liquid love,
I drink and I fall into another
Dream/life.

No more words.

I see the waters of old
And remember when they were new,
To know I am forever part
Part of their shimmer.

To know that dreams are an eventuality,
While life is asleep and our souls
Would meet sometime in this flesh,
Which comes as chance and destiny.

I have not known much hope,
I have not seen the brighter side,
Life has been a sad gold,
A roughed up diamond.

At times when the evenings spread
Like the sunset stretches the shadows,
I think of the tiny miracle of the moment
When I first met you.

They say to take your time,
So I will take what is given,
The great eternal moment
That I marvel at your presence.

In these waters that have no end,
The immortal flow that brought us together,
What is now and forever
Has saved the best for us.

There I stood,
Alone as ever,
Hated because I chose and let go,
I wanted,
So I let the cadence go
So I could change my tune
And new witnesses testified
And the new ME was born.

I had to let em go.
They loved me tben
And hate me now.
I gave tbem all they could handle,
And tbere at the edge I jumped
And became ME,
WHERE NO ONE FROM THE PAST
COULD SEE ME,
OVER THE EDGE AND TO A DEATH
AND REBIRTH,
such is tbe true change.

Into the night
Revealing all of the pleasures
With its hand of shadows
Uncovering what one hides
In the dark.

A blow of sky
With it's silence that burns
Between spaces when one cannot
Sleep, the cry of insomniac
Blood straying from sleep.

Into the night
One flees from things;
Or runs to them away from light,
The moist of the earth as
The back touches in a nameless
Affair between skins.

All the lust,
It burns with passion
Like a dream speaker whom
Walks with sinful nature.

And the kiss is a wound,
The fever of the moment
Turns into a black unholiness
That makes one wonder
Why the bad feels
So good.

Into the night,
All that is left from the parched
Thoughts under a bankrupt sun
Touches the inner animal,
Floods the moment
In the dead of darkness
And dies upon the touch.

And they walk a storm,
Mind's thunder and lightning,
Held down to the soil
Keeping themselves from heightening.

As though sorrow gives off
A fragrance,
They wonder alone in the masses
Like hollowed vagrants.

The morbid crusade that
Wears the grace of pain,
The crule caverns of life
With a black rose's stain.

The glacial pace of thoughts
With so little time,
Weary and tired
On the abyss they do dine.

To whom one is loved,
To be loved delivers
In return
A natural state of what
It means to be human.
And all along the river
As the waters whisper moments
In a running stream
That makes what bearable
Pre existing emptied
Soul poured into the flesh
And left to settle into the dust
What one can manage,
Only the love returned fills
The soul,
And family, friends ,
And lovers begin the end
In a flash so bright
It blinds a star
And what is born is life,
Each a tiny universe unto
The self,
A portrait of a person
For better or otherwise
Solidifies the magnification,
Love is Spirit,
And I am magnificent,
Because I know I will
Die of life,
And I lived,
All that one can do....

Hope float,
Like the poem you wrote,
Taking note
You put on the words coat,

Hope float,
The day you spoke
She, he, a little choked,
Your shirt tear soaked
And another poem wrote.

Hope float
On a grey day boat,
You napped then awoke
And alone while on the float,
Your heart spoke notes,
Another note you wrote,

Hope float,
Pains tender note,
Swan song loser goat poke,
Not the hero u had hoped,
Your lover with another eloped,
Your heart strings on a *****,
Don't play the dope,
Hope floats,

And poetry saved you.

If only the world weren't so big,
All these souls would pass by my
Door:

And through my window cruising
I see a magnolia flowered sorrow,
The kind with moon beam eyes
And darkens your heart when you
See it;

Why is she in pain,
All alone in the grey.....
She has a wall surrounding her
Until the last day of hope
And a turbulent river encircling her.

Ah, but her steps are like the dove's,
Tranquil,
For gentlemen's sake I have to offer my
Hand holding hers like fragile balloon
Set off in the air, getting too close
To the sun and the continuity of the light,
So bright, it might burst in my hand.

She only needs some money,
I tell her to get in,
I'll buy her a meal.
She enters with grief,
The kind like in this poem,
But from her gentle eyes
The nocturnal sense is born
And the stars with her eyes.
I am taken,
What sweetness in her voice,
She asks me for a lemonade
As something familiar to herself,
The longing she has missed.

Why doesn't she get off the streets,
What holds her here?
I see the shake in her arm,
The tiredness of her body,
But she does not want to be saved.

I know her goodness
Had more than a conversation within,
That a life wished for better dreams
Haunts like dawn and dusk,
Touching her like a ghost.

"I need my fix"

I giver her ten dollars.
What horrid reality she lives in,
She walks away,
Turns back and offers a sentiment,
" I needed this meal, and
Thanks for just being nice"

Her hope is barefoot and barren,
Who will save her life?
I only know soon I will
Be a voice, an echo in her soul.

I awaken to primitive forces,
My hand at her hip,
Like two flawed crystals
With eager flashes
With no grace in morning ***.

The longings drained,
And a hangover settles over noon.

The most uncomfortable peculiarities
Sit in like an unwanted listener,
Like a vagrant flower she eats
Whatever I threw on the table.

And I never knew my ex this well,
Still at least I knew her last name.

Inflated situation with irony
And absurdities between adults
Who for all adulthood are acting
Like nervous teens,
There's to be no encore ***.

"I'll call you"

Was that a question?
I wonder,
I close my door like the saddest clown.

We wrote the tree shades
Into it's roots as lovers do,
A first time's last
All said and done with me and you.
       We pained the leaves
        Green under said sun,
        Held our dreams
       For what might come.
Under the twilight
Of broken moons,
    Dancing with oak's
    Nurturing tunes.
And be it that the tree
  Will never fall,
It holds us eternal,
Memories all.

Graphite lovers
Embracing soil
Subterranean skies!

Heathen starlight
Breaking upon oceanic glares,
White top veils
Kissing blue atmospheres,
Embryonic moons
Where children sing sacred,
Womb of planets
Setting atomic borders
Upon infinite eyes:

Little lovers stranded
On Saturn's rings,
Elliptical orbit
Of the hopeless lumens,
A lonely flare meets
A comet's touch,
Gravity of the groumded mind
Wishing on dark stars,
Holy Lights
Flicker and die,
Matyrs of the Borders
Shattering ideals
And Earthen consciousness
Awakens to unify a buried grace.

I would let go all enduring sorrows
     Lifted like a curse,
A difficult time, so many times.

   In the Autumnal of my life
I would become like certain birds
And stay home for Winter's stretch,
      Where I was forsaken before
Like a lonely solstice,
You bring with you new seasons.

    And as I am now
Like a tired horizon over an
Un- majestic setting over a people
Long on their own lives,
      Over the repugnant solitude
Of a lone island,
You bloom as it's first carnation.

  As I am just a man now,
I grasp at new beginnings with a
Consolation of a certain rebirth,
      If your arrival means I must
Leave my world behind and live
Somewhere, somewhere new,
        I long for this,
Already lonesome is a type of death,
       As I am now, revived as a kiss
Of fresh air received me,
      All my being aches for you;

And taken as I am,
I shall not be as I was,
      For in the Autumn of my life
I find a blossoming Summer in your
Embracement,
    Firmly I feel the veins filled
With your presences,
    Lost in the labyrinth of your
Anxious romance,
    I live the sweetest clarity....

And you take me as I am,
      I will never be the same.

I retreat prompted by a certain
Charm for older things
Into my mechanized city:
A scene of 1920's buildings
Awaiting seeker of history.

    I sit by a grand oak
    With a book in hand
    And find a storage dimension
    Of Pecan and Ashe trees
    Whistling to Poplars in certain
    Winds between the River and the
    Town that runs through it.

Here in a walk with the River
I want to rest my soul
A destroy all other thoughts
Of complacent voices.

      An old cantina was placed
      At her heart, inside a Catholic
      Crucifix with Christ watches
      Over the patrons as they drink
      A merry round with old friends.

A profound feeling in the city,
I gaze at the Old Mission
Of the Heart, I remember her well,
The Alamo lights up my city
And perhaps my whole world.

     There is a tower of many Americas
     Compelling the watchers,
     Its as if the mercy of her heights
     Allows you to fly in the air
     Seeing certain histories from there.

I enjoy her charm,
San Anto at her heart
Is a maiden of loyal charms,
All resignation is set aside
As old voices speak to you,
And they  seem to say,
"Welcome, welcome old friends"

And it is never enough,
The sun falls upon your body,
Stretching the moment
And birthing the Luna's
Prayer:

Liquid light of your
Elliptical kiss,
A thousand moons unknown
At the bend of the crescent
Thigh I lay a touch to die
Into your Resurrection;
Woman of millennial graces,
Today was born your religeon
And faith is in the way
Your eyes sparkle creating
The infant galactical....
Once and never again
I fall into your amorous
Gestures, enough to fill
The eternity of the moment.

I am absent from your reality,
Deep into the words
There waiting for myself to reappear.
In other things i imagine myself,
Away travelling in the universe
Of my mind,
Some places that i have never been
Are waiting for me to get there,
The depths of myself.

Im here in these words
In bits and pieces
That wanted me to turn into language
So i could express them,
The trees and the skies and
The world around that does
Bot speak but says more than
Anyone man.

I fall deeply
Away from flesh
And my spirit puts on the words
That the world cannot speak.

I speak not for myself
But that which language was invented
For,
That we might put into words
Such unspeakable beauty.

Let the golden pollen
Of the finest flowers yet to be
Fill the snowflakes in purified
Glistened luminosity falling.

The natured call in the heartfelt
Spring of seasonal bodies,
The aura of sun warmed gilded
In waves of new birth memory.

Desirous vibration of longing
Fill the need in the cold fires,
A conquest of light
In the darkest triumphs.

In the crimson meadows
Of the sunlit mind,
A sparrow's song to the nest
Bleeding into the Winter depth.

In the depths of the cold
Passing before the season,
Spring comes in a fantastical
Whirlpool of new life in the middle
Of the storm.

For two weeks since he's been home
He lost most of his conversation
In asking me or himself what needs
Done in the house or around it.

He watches the news alone at midnight
In the dark looking for war updates,
Always up before me to avoid any
Kind of pillow talk or otherwise.

26 years old and tireless
Back from four years of God knows
Because he won't say a word to me,
But I've never seen him more alone.

Last night I tried to make love to him,
He winced at me like he didn't
Know how to he with a woman any
More, which I found at first kind
Of nice, but really depressed me
Later on thinking about it.

Everyday during lunch, Gil breaks
Out his hand gun and rifle,
He breaks them down with such
A delicate touch, sometimes I get
Jealous of the way he handle them.
Still at the very least I like to think
That he knows how to touch a woman,
And he just misplaced his passion,
That one day he will put the energies
Back where they need to be.
We talk everyday, but the ts like
A mechanical response,
J just let him be.

We had a laugh when we shared
A movie together, the first one we saw
When we dated as teens,
He smiled at me like he did before
He left for the war,
He even gave me a kiss that lasted
More than the usual pecks.

In our bed I stare at this man
That I couldn't breathe without,
I try to understand that maybe he
Will come home some day,
Maybe he will remember himself,
Maybe is my best hope.

War is a monster,
Nevertheless a spawn
Of the course that humanity
Cannot know until it sickens
Itself of its reflection,
Born is the unsettling peace
And an eye full of remorse
Until the infinity settles the
Loneliness and kindles
The desire for more,
The temporary sanity between
Is a generation yearning.

On granite tops
Of a syllables edge,
Under the knife of the moon's
Tips and rustled
Tops of wilderness's troops
Marching in cooler bones
And aching the secretly
Emerging gold and browns
Alleviate the warm regards,
Bland of words
And so many, many of
The mind inherit the season
With feverish nostalgia,
Able to take sin among the
Flesh and cleanse the
Cools the breeze like
A sullen midnight tremble
In the lovers arms
Greasing the days with
An  angels wing
And the eyes grow heavy,
Pure more so than you
Or I,
A cool silence
In the huge seasons
Flowing in the beads of
The virgins beneath
Winter's yelp.

I do not know what is real,
Are there words real,
Real the poem,
Are you real,
you that reads this?

I question myself,
Everything and everyone,
The only answer I have
Is that I am alive between
The verses.

The mouthful of universe
    Sprang from a universal tongue,
Armed with the Words in a corridor
    Of birth before the abstract divinity,
The benevolent assault of creation
    In the circular currents away from
No place and no where
     The whiteness bound into the sun,
Lonely tears birth the oceans
   And with a finger provoked eruption
      Of earthly space,
He sings the solar song,
     The words with roots in invisible
Trees, the yellow surf of dusks,
    In the beginning was a dream
Forming the constellation of life......

Beyond the quarter moon's melody,
Reminiscent of ****** passings
               The Edge deflecting certain ends,
A Look into the Child's goddess,
And the warmth from beginnings
               Like eternal lamentation of nocturnal
Dreams into sudden arms,
A cry for that crystalline
              Where time has no rapture
And The Edge seems a return,
I dive deeply and willfully

             A certain fate after interwoven years
Life I bid you.....
             A fall to be reborn.

Today and into some deep of the dawn
I became the night,
A dense whisper when
Silence is at its loudest and
Secrets form from desparate
Lovers swollen with lust
Like the red of a stolen
Crimson moon,
And the blood into my body became
Luminosity as the places
I vagranted into thr nocturnal
Kingdoms stood still
And time tied together into a knot
And my constellation was this verse,
The dawn sees me as a dangling
Metaphor with no particular
Meaning,
Only today and into dawn
As the first birds moaned
And the worms decayed bodies,
I was not the desolation
Of the bodies of the last lines,
Instead i was freed with the rising
Sun lost in the light
Blind at the brightest
Morning and nothing was all
I could muster.

I will die in the Westside
On some corner with a beer
In my hand, as if holding the lost
Scrolls of Atlantis.
I will die in the Westside-
And I won't be ashamed that
I am a drunken mess and my liver
Has swollen like my heart for
My dear neighborhood.
     It will be a Tuesday,
I will go back and find myself
Within the aloness with all the Yesterdays
Behind me.

Dedpoet is dead. The world beats him,
Although he never fought back;
It beat him hard with a stick....

There will be witnesses,
Nameless and I will not know them,
Only the solitude, the grey, the cold roads.....

Self crowned among the masses,
A shout grim and hopeful,
Yet impartial and beneficent,
A war dog's appearance is beautiful
In it's momentary truth.

    Cry war dog,
The sea mounts the coast
And the wounded patriotic
Statuesque in a pose of glory,
A broken hymn among the ruins
Gnawed by flashing lights,
All is the war dog's cry!

  He cries freedom!
He cries justice,
   He cries faith,
He cries for the sake of the unborn
Soldier unearthing the burials yet
To be......

    Cry war dog,
History remembers
Such glorious monsters.

I can remember in my youth
When my friends and I would
Hunt in our backyard with pellet
Guns in hand and the thought
Of a fat dove we might cook.

The first time I held that knife
And took it out of his stomach,
I never knew how the joining
Of the two could shock me,
I almost let go,
I held on long enough for him to
Collapse, I ran and never looked back.

I had never killed a bird before,
Unknowing how it's flailing wings
Would affect me, so powerful,
Fear in its eyes, I knew he wanted
To live.  

I had never stabbed a man before,
He had no wings to flutter,
But as I ran,
I knew that bird wanted to live,
I feel a guilt over me
When I can't tell if that man wanted
The same.

It all works....
    The way is should.

Whipping the day
Like lashings to the body,
Exclusive to where
You found yourself alone
In the prison of the mind,

It all works.....
    The way it should.

Tell me where you found
Yourself,
Away from me and the vivid
Yolk of slavers rejoices,
Don't tell me what I already know...deeper thoughts
Reside...

It all work.....
I suppose....
The way it should,

   Tell me where the problem
Surrenders to the solution
At the end of the barrel
    Take from me the side arm
And I will reload my mind
Trap the soul and win
Your body at the cost
Of time's reflection,

I suppose,
It all works.....
The way it could,

But where is the just
When I just got here
To my trial, tale
Of two thieves,
And I am locked away from
A grim reality,
Perception at its most gruesome,
Where we all never were,
This is normal,

It supposed to work,
The way it could,

Mentally programmed
To a bitter state of mind.

Once upon a time
I was cursed to follow a woman,
Her bed was the alter of my sacrifice.
    I had three jobs
To pay for her extravagant lifestyle,
    I robbed the local convenience store
to pay for her ttaste in expensive jewelry,
    I have checks made of rubber
That bounce from mall to mall,
   I could not stop myself
For I was fearful she might scorn
Me with her luscious lips,
Stare at me with those entrancing eyes!
  It wasn't always like those,
Before we used to date and eat ice cream
At the park,
Drink at the cabana place I know,
We would make love til the morning.

      But the years went by and I fell
In her web of mysteriousness,
She would wear these dresses
With nothing under and flash me
In privately in public places,
     She would contort her body
That wrote new chaoters in the
Kama Sutra, I was a poor boy
Lost in a world of candy.
Then, she threatened to take
Away all the sweets if I did not
Stop talking to my friends,
    And to make sure this came to
Be she hacked my Facebook page
And said I hated them all,
Each by name,
   She was in a jealous delirious state.
     When I get home from work
She makes me kiss her on her cheek,
The her forehead and slap her on her
Backside, she makes me talk
About which dress I will buy her next,
    Of what make her next shoes I will
Surprise her with, a pair a month
As a surprise, aside from the ones she
Expects on demand,
     My ears burn, I know she is near,
I throw up at how much I know about
women's clothing,
I fainted when she bought her
twentieth purse,
She then says for fainting she had to go
Rethink our relationship so she
Takes her mother on vacation
With my recently cashed 401k.

Its been some years now,
I stopped the three jobs and held on
To one, she did not mind
After I passed her credit check.
    But the woman accused me of not
Loving her and wasting her best years
Because I refused to buy her
A car, she could not drive,
So she brings her Mother home to visit
And after a month I buy her a Camry,
      Her eyes flash in anger because
It was not go to the year,
The new models came out next month
But it was the same year as it is now,
So I have no clue what she is babbling
About,
    I then walked out and lived as a homeless
Man for a few weeks,
I slept in the park and found peace in
Hunger, but the law would
Not let me stay there,
So then I went on to pretend I was
A joyous hobo,
And I lived in a small tent village
With others like me,
Many whom had left their
Crazy wives.

   One day I got a surprise kiss on my cheek,
It was her,
She had found me and I was horribly glad
To see her again,
But I thought I didn't love her anymore.
She holds my hand and says
That she will take care of me now,
That all my troubles are over.
She has bought me a plot
Of land with my tombstone
She said,
That I would be with her the rest of our
Days she said.
I told her I could use a break
From all the wild life,
Get me some food woman,
And a beer to boot.
As I wait for my new old wife,
I kick my feet up and watch
The game,
Next to the remote I notice the picture
Of my tombstone from
Some photo she took,
On it was my date of birth,
And mysteriously my date of....

The bells broken
And the language discerned,
Break free the chains
That hold hearts vague:

I was in a dream awoken
By a wishs crescent smile
And only the blue sun
Had made the light clear.
    I had been made for this,
Clear like voices unspoken
And I am free,
Driven from the boldness
Into the sake of hope,
For hope's sake.

I say now there is nothing
And nothing has bloomed,
The age of orion
When the blood moon rose
And men became lost,
I am,
So that you will be no more,
Lost in the drizzle of the unspoken.

Rain down on me your fire,
I am found in the light of my
Structure,
Thar which they cannot break
And i am a poet,
Nevermore in the mind
Reality is fools gold,
Taken to my chambers
Where my body lays
But my soul is free.....

Never succumb,
Your truth is the dream
That you awaken from.

As one listens to the rain,
Every droplet memorized
Among the curvature of your
Earthen face,
In a silhouetted distraction
Your dress falls to the floor...

All is still,
The night arrives in your eyes,
You found me in the mist,
The mist that is a lifetime
And one night an eternity,
The murmur of birth,
The death that is the moment passing,
Inward the rain falls,

Weightless in the heavy
Earth we make our indentations
On a universally illuminating
Time,
We speak with no words,
So beautiful God unfolds and looks,
The pain of the momentary eternal,
Passing,
And then the rain.

Oh, the big whole life
That fills all mystery
And makes everything so small....

She stares out a window
At the center of her world,
A sorrow
Like a dark magnolia
Which changes when touched.

She had a wall around her
Until the day she let's it go,
A turbulent dream that keeps her
Awake, to guard herself from
Everybody else.

Oh, her she is a dove,
A tranquility she knows nothing
About,
He told her she was beautiful
Holding  his breath when he said it.
And the fragile destiny
Can be seen in her absence,
Her voice is darkened
And was gentle like air,
But the night is now born
Under her eyes,
The light escapes her as she
Walks with eyes to the earth,
She can't feel a thing
Because the pain numbs her,
Familiar to her like family now,
The razor is a new friend.
She cuts the life I to her,
Along with the jelly beans she grew
Up loving,
The blood runs down her thigh
And the flavor
Melts into her mouth.

Why is this normal for her?
She asks herself with a half smile,
The landscape of her life
Is a dream trying to feel
Anything.

I know her innocence
Has more than this razor,
And all her heart is stuck
In a painful fragility,
Touching what she sees as real
The days pass,
The scars number every day.

What destiny will free her
From the closed heart?
What steps will she take to free
Herself,
That the cage might become a bird?

Who will rescue her from the wolves,
While she bleeds herself
Into oblivion,
Some day,
Oblivion may take her home.

"It's only a poem,
Dont read so much into it."
      
             Dedpoet

I favored it like grandmothers
Cooking on a brisk
Sunday,
Where dream days came
Flocking like seasonal birds,
A tune played out
Like the last hymn of Psalms,
The words wear me
Like an old Winter coat,
Every syllable
I dang off beat and kiltered
The notes as lovely
As Springtime nuance,
I need no splendor of view
As long as the rich melody
That memory dangled along
I can sing like broken mandalays,
My song which does haunt
And I am grateful
I cant get it out of my head.

Oh my Lord,
I pray unto the sweetest sin,
That my eyes have gathered a harvest
And in the image of your perfection,
I saw what angels see;
As I walked in the morning shadow
A door half opened,
My eyes curious as a fragrance
Of blessed perfume gathered
And a dove perched at the window.

Lord,
I saw perfection,
Though in the flesh nothing
Is perfect,
I cannot here in words duplicate what
Beauty lay naked,
But the poet in me longs for
The words to embrace such beauty:
Flame of the sun
    Burns amidst sensations,
The shadow of my desire
     Cast from the flames.
There in a garden of flames
       She lie naked.....    the senses open
Magnetic eyes,
     The passion of lovely embers
        She entered through my eyes,
The windows of my soul,
     And I longed to be with God,
The thoughts though unholy
Flow into a desirous nature ,
     What I see is my creation,
Perception of my conception,
      Oh she is crystalline clarity,
And I am revealed to be only a man,
     Truth of desire,
Transparency is all that remains,
     And she is the truth of the moment.

Lord,
Forgive this sin,
I walked away with no soul,
For it stayed behind
To be born through the sight
Of She, of Her,
And in the glory of her nature,
A Poet Saint is born.

Is not in my pen,
Not in these words.
Not in my breath,
Speaking broken verbs.

It not my book
Of lost sorrows,
Or writing audascious
Hopes for lost tomorrows.

It is when I fight
To get out of here,
Lost in the poem
With life oytside so near.

The curse of words
Is that we are there but not,
Writing thé moments
Where present eas forgot.

I take the time
To take the time,
A moment in its pursest
With no reason or rhyme.

Just be.

This little life of mine,
I'm gonna let it shine:
      Even with dark forces
        Riding in like four horses
      Making corpses
     Of all that I love
      And care for,
    What are they there for
      When all that I dare for
      Is taken into the apocalypse
        and my life gets alot of lips
     Talking, but I walk in no man's land,
       I am the island to myself
       The force of my nature
        Dont let the hater
         Bother me now or later,
       This little life ,
  Crazy majestic,
       The belittled strife,
       I can just taste it,
Bittersweet,
      I'm gonna gonna let it shine;
     And the darkness surrounds me.

Pieces like scattered lumens
On black days,
Brighter than sunsets
Elongated on arched spines
Under the Saturday evening
Impression left upon
A lifetime......

Bits like kisses
On the nape where bodies
Trembled under passionate skies,
Under quarter moons
Luminous embrace
Where only life was made
By extracting the sweetest
Nectar of moments
Born in the constellation US.

Peice of me,
Peice of you,
Making life whole.