I have to maintain perfect rhythm,
impeccable coordination,
to stay in the pocket

It can be hard to do that when
the only person accompanying you
is yourself.

and other times
it's just as hard
with an orchestra.
infinitely moreso,
at times...

Two things're for sure
If you can't play in rhythm with others
It's probably easier for you to play in rhythm with yourself.
and If you can't play in rhythm with yourself
It's probably easier for you to play in rhythm with others.

But if you're not in time
the only way you will be is
if someone falls out of it with you

Sometimes I'm afraid of the dark...

but I shouldn't exorcise the past.
I won't burn it at the stake.

I should accept its every demon
and make friends with them.

That's all they want.
Friends.
Some love.

I should really respect them.
They've helped me pave the way
to this very moment.

Sometimes...
I'll whistle or sing,
when I can't see in the dark.

I used to throw blind punches.

Turn on the light and
I'd look like a real silly person
fighting with their shadow.

The melodies keep me flowing
through space and time.

I really shouldn't fight with the present.
I should unwrap it forever as an infinite gift.

We should waltz 'til we fall.

The future is an unlit cellar.
I want to run inside to get what I need and split.

But when it comes time...

I will dance
with the darkness
and sing softly
holy matrimony
into its ears.

I will whistle
divine praise
into its mouth.

Let's sing 'til we faint.

I'm just as afraid of the light
as I am of the dark.

Let's dance 'til we die.

I'm just as in love with them both.

I'm nibbling sunshine fantasies on psychedelic manatees
as I swim through formalities and mudpits of vanity
while temper approaches maximum capacity
I pray for no casualties

I'm dribbling periwinkle moonshine daffodils
as I crawl through sweltering deserts of dis-ease and sunchills
they're a bothersome blister singing softly to a dragon
they're a kaleidescope periscope horoscope for the dead

the perpetual re-birth/death
wheel of fortune's price is right
just as the bird in the hand
is worth two in the bush.

kiss the reflection in the river
and feel the cold
sloshing down your throat
as thickening liquids
quicken quibbling piglets.

shivering slivers of
saccharine mashugana symphonies
sing slightly slowly as temporal tyrants
tinker totally titillated ties as they sit
at a time in a box paradox paradox.

the keys are in the trees if you please.
patience is a breeze in the leaves,
so slow down and breathe it with ease.

My God, what even am I?

branches are
sprouting out of my heart
and ripping
through my rib cage

my bones are shattering
as I shiver from the growth

it's all so sudden,
I feel like someone's squeezed me like a squeaky toy with it eyes
popping out of its sockets

except they're no longer attached and they're hurtling through space
at a trillion light years per second

I know I'm here to break my heart open as wide as I can so let me carve it into the bark so you can taste the sap

I'm a hall of mirrors
with many twisted reflections

I'm the shattered mirror
on your bathroom wall

They call me Narcissus

I look into the river and
fall in love with the
reflection in the
shimmering water

I go to kiss it

and my shadow falls
around it

My vision blurs
and it goes out of focus

Warm lips
Ice cold water

He lay there in the grass, hands folded beneath his head.
Facing the many twinkling lights of the stars,
basking in the glow of the sky, he said,

"The moon has a face,
She really does.
Well, many, really.
But the one that I see
looks like it's singing the universe.
You can see it in her eyes,
that it's a solemn song but
there's hope in her voice
that lights up the sky.
You know how when
you get so close to someone
you can see yourself
in their eyes?
Sometimes I wonder
if she's too far to see herself
in ours..."

To his surprise, the moon faced him and smiled.

"You beautiful being, my magical child,
Love transcends space, for infinite miles,

My perception of you
is a reflection of me
of all I once knew
and all that I see

Your reception of me
is a reflection of you
of all that you see
and all you once knew

Nothing we see
Is entirely true
If both you and me
Set our mirrors askew

Eye to eye
Heart to Heart
We realize we
Are all a part

Heart to heart
Eye to eye
We realize love
Will never die

See into
each other's minds
With all our mirrors
now aligned

Through each other
We can see
We reflect forever
to infinity...

As you look to me, I look to the earth
and see twinkling lights of infinite worth
They are the eyes of many a life
Wondering just like you..."

radiating love body light being
form flowing flavorlessly as if needed,
expected in order to sustain life.

e's quenching a thirst,
e fills your lungs with life,
breathing, e pulsates,
e rocks back and forth,
e goes in and out,
e spirals all about and
e takes its time because
e loves e's time because
time is all e has and
all e has is all e is and
all e is, is all e feels and
all e feels is all e knows.

e knows e feels everything
and knows nothing.
e feels he knows nothing
and feels everything.

Time's a cat in a box
paradox paradox
paradox

Wax poetic with me and
we'll nurture a new language.

We can speak in love together
while we wait for light of the dead star
to stop shining hatred on our faces.

To you,
I'm a braying boy
with a broken brow,
and a giggly girl
with a **** and no ****

I'm a sad silly circle
suffocated by boxes,
and a ****** box
without borders

To you,
I'm a pixelated picture
penned in binary
but I'm a runny canvas
painted in watercolor

I'm a two-spirit tupperware
all-soul riverway

I want a new pair of glasses
I want a new operating system

Give me a hammer and chisel
and an ever-growing stone
I want to sculpt it forever

I won't touch your
blablabla leftovers
I wanna write
my own recipe

Lemme show you
how I feel about
what you see

I rip apart your dams with my
fingernails and let the rivers
flow with all the ***** I don't give

I flash you my infinity
as I flip you the birdie

I don't care what you want

I am, *****.

one two, cut the apple
three four, eat the core
five six, get the fix
seven eight, it's too late
nine ten, not again
eleven twelve, break my pelvis
thirteen thirteen
six six six
three two
one zip

buddha vishudha
sweet purple umbra
ajna penumbra helix ribbons
rise like feathers out of my face

I looked into our eyes today
I tried to smile when I was dripping with awe
and the corners of my mouth quivered 'til my jaw dropped

I sit and breathe deeply as I see our reflections
and the vertices of all our faces interlacing in intricate ways
I find myself breathing in their rhythm
I find myself telling my mother I love her

We cry jovial understanding into each other's eyes

I catapult myself up through
deoxyribonucleic staircases into
blossoming realms of emotion

There's no time! No words.
Everything is so familiarly alien
and entirely understandable.
I feel everything.

you sacred little ****, you
I love you so much

You may want to take me inside
but your mind is a million dripping daggers
perpendicular to the infinite edges
of my circular paradigms.

your cold soul wraps around me
like a chainmail suit.

I want to love it, as
it's supposed to love me, but
it's heavy and pinches every fiber
of my existence

and why should I wear it
when I want to run into love
completely naked?

My name is derived from Tyrant
I would say you should have expected it
but I am not one to take someone's heart
that is the ultimate crime.

Can't you see that you've stolen your own?
Look in the mirror. Unfurl your ****** fists.

Now my fingers are ablaze with hellfire.

toasted snippets of crispy information
lie on white plates rapidly cooling
while lips dry into deserts
of steel-toe apathy

stale bread waits, uneaten
growing fuzzy colonies of mold
that scream in delight at your
dipper-dapper disinterest

breadcrumbs blaze new trails through
forests of great-grandfather clocks,
looming ominously as they sing
tick-tock with woodpeckers where

a manic imp bakes loaves for
several forevers in an attempt
to escape its inevitable
decomposition

grasping at salvation and
fumbling for words that slip
from buttered fingertips

better luck next time

I shattered your mirror
and now all that I see
are the broken shards
of my shocked reflection
strewn across the ground.

They're dripping with
sickeningly straight lines
of red tears from closed eyes
that were carved into the steps
of a porcelain temple.

I wrinkle up my nose at the smell
of self pity and hatred and sing
a solemn dance for what's dead.

I crouch to my fours, sharp shards
of refractive souls ripping into my
apologetic palms, pressing.

Sliding off the surfaces,
crimson pools of times past
spread to the soles of my bare feet,
filling in the gaps between my fingers,
ready to devour me like you did so well.

I can taste your blood in my mouth
and it is reminiscent of my own.

born of a broken
home, the boy never
learned he was born

in constant fear
he could only survive
the last thing he thought
was to live

he ran and hid
and never came out
unless it was for his life

he lied and cried
as he smiled and tried
to not let anyone notice

You were standing
there by the fire, illuminated
by it's tendrils of warmth.

Standing isn't a good word, though.

I saw you radiating upright
with your spine stretched up
to the heavens like a sacred snake
dancing to the universe's melody.

Your every movement flowed
like a river of love and glowed
with the embers of a thousand thoughts.

Our eyes met and
I knew I had known you
for several lifetimes.

The pupils of our souls
dilated to the horizons of
our irises as they tried to
jump into each other's
embrace.

It's silly, but as we sat, I noticed our super-soft pants,
(because why go with anything that doesn't feel amazing)
were printed with psychedelic patterns,
and they seemed to breathe in sync
with one another.

But that was just us.

I want to know your dreams

I want to memorize every fiber of your being,
your every bone and every muscle, your
every word and every story

I nuzzle my nose in the nape of your neck,
tickled by silky soft hair, and
breathe you in deeply.

My lips are learning you

I marvel at your existence for uncounted and
seemingly nonexistent amounts of time

I can have a conversation with you
by looking in your eyes

We needn't say anything
but show, see and
understand
to feel

You're a glorious piece of music and
I want to learn every nuance of your essence.
I want to remember the feeling on the pads
of my fingers before I sound each string.
Glorious

I trace your skin with my fingertips to
learn every dynamic of your body
from forte to pianissimo

I bask in your kind eyes and swim in your smiles.
I shiver at your electric caress and melt in your loving embrace.
Divine excellence...

At green diamond tenth
in the hustle bustle jungle,

time brought sunsets, tall buildings,
relative heat waves and adventures,
it brought love and delicious food
with interwoven fingers
and storylines stampeding
through the streets, seen
from the landing of
our first kiss

then snow and a hat-scarf,
your name embroidered with
threads of love by the hands
of your grandmother,
and mittens that turn
into fingerless gloves

We walked past my car twice
just because we enjoyed walking with each other,
or maybe I'm just directionally challenged
and occasionally oblivious,
but it's definitely both

We never put our pens to the page
but we snuggled like a puzzle and
painted poetry in our smiles

You make me feel so comfortable
I could melt into you like honey on a
fresh piece of toast before a walk in
the snow to a four hour train ride to
another chapter of your book

We were together nearly 18 hours
and it felt like forever and a second
at the same time and

I'm still tingling...

beautiful
feathers in
red-orange-yellow,
green-blue eyes sing as
quiescent chrysalis cracks,
blossoms into butterfly
blue wings blue sky,
love spreads its wings
wide open, speaks ocean  
blue-turquoise truth, anahata  
through lapis lazuli lips, vishuddha
a kiss on the amethyst-lilac forehead,
ajna to the sky, sahasrara
butterfly flew

she left my harp unstrung and
played ev'ry string 'til
frayed and broken

I'm not gonna
tell you that I know
what the ****
I'm doing

Anything I
do can and will
be my unsaying

Anything I
say can and will
be my undoing

Listen to my
eyes when I go
back to the
beginning

she left my harp unstrung and
played ev'ry string 'til
frayed and broken

she left my harp
unstrung and left
me snickering and
grinning

The Second Day of the First Hour
I was with flowing fingertips, breathing
as I enticed the thoughtkin to dance with me.
They're seemingly flimsy
at times, somewhat silly but
they are beautiful in motion.

The Third Week of the Second Minute
I asked them to come fly with me so that
we could swing from the brightest stars and
be little monsters in space to fully embrace
our alien lifeforms

The Fourth Month of the Third Second**
I carved heaven in the road
and walked slowly to
read it's every inch

I'm in Love with the World,
Don't Take it personally.
It's not yours to Have,
But it's ours to Feel.
We are the World,
and I'm in Love.

Look.
Don't.

These are the two greatest choices
someone can make.

The *art is present.
The art is present.
The art is now!
Look.
Don't.

These are the two greatest choices.

The artist is present.

did they know -
their lives were all being recorded
every little microexpression, every
reaction to every perception -
branded onto reels of film

when they're dead and gone
their lives will be played back for them
and their reactions will be recorded
little did they know -

Love is further than the tip of my tongue,
closer than my fingertips, and
deeper than my fullest breath.

Safe (or so I thought)
in my home, I stand, solemn.
Bodies line my doorways and
faces fill every one of my windows.

Some of them drool, and
some of them snicker.  
Eyeballs undress me,
I feel them groping.

They want to get inside me.
They want to look around.

Every single day,
you stand there, facing me.
A mirror image, another face, staring.
A pair of eyes in the safety of my own home.

Why don't you just rip my insides out?

Dig your nails into me.
Squeeze me until I pop!
Let my guts ooze out on the floor,
and smear them around for everyone to see.

Slice me down the seams,
and take me apart.

Lay my pieces down
in an organized fashion,
easily put together again.

Let 'em look.

—gasp—
I'm outside, drooling in the window, watching.
Face: 'Hehe it's intriguing, isn't it? From the outside looking in?'
Me: 'Yeah...'
Face: 'It's just morbid curiosity — don't feel bad.'
—sigh—

I'm naked,
inside out.

I'd say it's all for you, but
you're just a broken mirror.

I'm not afraid of losing you,
because I never had you in the first place.

I'm afraid of losing what I feel with you.

She was perfect
but she was too much, too little
a riddle that'll fiddle with your mind

She was perfect
but she was too little, too much
a riddle, touch tingling, her crutch

But I didn't hold her heart
like she held mine.

saccharine lullabies
sit in sweet putrescent seats
around my rotting bed

I lie weightless
in the heavy truth
of the piece off a broken tooth
twirling through the cosmos
after a missile fist made
my spit mist

stardust

this wouldn't be the first time
someone's said that you can't
put a knife through the preacher,
even when he's not practicing what he's preaching.

he's a delicate flower,
he's just facing the sun and
praying for photosynthesis

Preacher's got a sunburn,
he's a silly dude, sittin' in the field
in the blistering heat

bright bidden barley
comes sicken roasted now,
like a frostbitten politician lectures a sandy hook victim,
telling his soft couch he just won't have it anymore.
who's the prophet today, anyway?

black.
all I see — is black,
and a glow -
maybe some tessellated patterns over screenlit skinforms,
writing like they think they know what they're doing
I love what they've done to me
but I hate what I've done for them
I want to curl 'em like I'm squeezing a lemon
I want to weave a web of thunder with my skeleton
Bend me like an antenna to get reception
I'll swing my hips to your
pulse's rumpus

tickle my neurons
with your featherduster delusions

sometimes I stare at screens
because the flow of photons
over my pupils form rivers
over my retinas that sound
a thousand frames per second softer than tears.

We're all parched.

In a circle we sip
from the watering hole,
all sides, another animal
most of them pay me no mind

but the lion stares at me
from across the rain,

his whiskers brush
the surface —
I respect you.

He laps up his drink,
and with a flick of his tail,
bids farewell to good company.

I look down into the ripples,
formed from the mouths of
many thirsty beasts,
and I look up into my weary eyes.

I am grateful to be alive.

Kissed by rippling lips,
myself I drink deeply

Because this
may be the last time
I return to quench my thirst.

I wipe the drips from my lips,
and look down where they rippled

Lion smiles up.

I wonder if my skeletons in the closet miss me.
I used to keep them company all the time.
I hope they're still playing nice.

They wouldn't make for the most comfortable of cuddles,
but at least we had a lot in common.
We could talk all night until the sun rose,
and it wouldn't even matter as long as we had the door shut.
We'd talk until I was deliriously hallucinating faces on their skulls.
We'd talk until I'd melt into their rib cages.
My pupils were as wide as eye sockets,
and I could see myself in their skin.
They'd smile at me, warmly,
and make me feel at home.

I wasn't afraid of the dark,
I was afraid of the light.

in a room,
brimming
with people,
I am alone —

sitting at an
empty table,

sometimes, I wish
someone would fill
the seat across from me,
and by sometimes, I mean
that I come here every single day
hoping with all of my heart that it will happen.

but I'm a bride and groom
in black and white. —
I'm an empty beige room with
a spider in the corner. —
I'm a glance with
a deadpan nod. —
I'm a dance where
you shift your weight
without moving your hips...

—

dribdrab fantasy,
peripheral face

I was trying.
I was just trying to think...
I was trying to think of something.
I was trying to think of something to write about...
, but whenever I try to think of something to write about,
I can never think of what to write.
and whenever I try to think of something,
I can never think of it.
and whenever I try to think,
I can never.

atop of your mirror
the sinister sound
of crystalline powder,
whispers maniacal cackles
as it's crushed, crackled beneath
the apathetic plastic card,
somehow sensual

your identity, face down -
grinning

rub it in soft circles
on your favorite reflection

'Which one of your nostrils
is more open to this
sort of thing?'

the frightened boy fumbles
for his devil's dollar bill,
it's a fascist nose-nozzle
vice-vacuum,
poison-sourdough
death-demon

breathe in your
shattered fiberglass fix,
****'s as cool as ice-cold *****,
stings like a frost-bitten *****

snort, shiver -
twitch!

we go so deep
that we forget
what's on the surface,
it's a slide, steep
and our fear is
on the playground,
while our focus  
sleeps

we bounce thoughts,
off our paddles
as we serve
linguistic ping pong *****

mischievous baboons.

we tug on playful balloons,
skipping on ribbons,
in the rubber pastel
dances of the shifty winds,
fluttering flocks of
glowing grey moons

we turn tables
like turntables,
on tilted roofs

we lay silent, slanted
kissing devil hooves

blistering sunsets
burn my skin

I watch the ball of love
get further from me,
falling a w a y

It was always out of reach,
but I could feel it's warmth
as long as it was in sight,
but, no longer

It forms rivers from dry wells.

In it's absence,
it has them brimming,
now overflowing, down
channels of skinclay
wrinkles

they run deeper,
than the roots of
the tallest trees,
falling slower, than
the softest cries,
unheard

rocky river ways
froth from the mouth,
splashing and bubbling
in maniacal sadness -

silent white water rapids.

Tussled and unkempt,
shriveled livers beg for mercy,
hidden behind layers of rotting drywall

a rusty sledgehammer.

unused

rip me from the rafters,
frayed ropes laughing at death.
I am still breathing,
fiberglass and sawdust.

Insulate me.

How much time in the mirror
have I wasted on hating myself,

when I could have
been loving you?

I hold my life in the palm of my hand
it is the weight of the universe
mi mano es su mano
all is all my life
the universe is ours to hold

pins and needles
line my stomach
like blood red clouds
aglow with silver,

blistering scabs
grow and blossom
into wizardly trees,

blowing and breathing
the air like dancing veins
bringing life to the sky
looking to the stars

I turned on the light to the next door
and it came running in
photons splashing gore!

Straight through the streetlight
like stamps on a ***** and a tricycle
cyc-sickling atop of the poor.

Violence, begotten
the marsh has in store
and the sad watch like
rats watch gold watches and
stop

Grandfather
tells a long time.

Listen to the click!

You may learn a tock
or two in the bush.

zoom swish by

An arrow pierces the heart of time
along the same line as the pools filling with blood.

Tell me, stranger, why don't you look at me?

I see you growing beneath the surface, there...
You're blossoming up like a welt,
a cyst ready to pop!

, but I keep running as
I'm folding life in on itself

Hamburger or hotdog,
either way - I won't let you
see what I wrote inside.

I take it down the hallway and into my bedroom.
I collapse inward, a book's pages eating its own binding,
chewing on hollow spines, and synthetic adhesives.

Tell me, stranger.

interestingly enough,
you left me here with
hands untied and wrapped
in psychedelic ribbons

they didn't know what to do
so they exploded into movement

cathartic motion
my eyes are crying
sometimes they do that

Fear drew me,
devoured me, and
vigorously erased me.
Xe's an *******, but xe's just like me.
I'm xer ****** drawing xe
doesn't want to see.

I'm a pile of rolled up pink rubber bits tainted with grey.
I'm brushed off its desk with a frantically manic flick of the wrist.
I'll get ****** off the ground and thrown away some other day.

and I'll sit in the garbage for a while.
and I'll still be here, but I'll be useless.

Courage sticks xer calloused hands in the grimy wastebin.
Courage picks out all all my bits and pieces.
Courage gives me a squeeze and sticks me back together.
Xe didn't have to do it, but xe's as kind as xe is calloused.

and I'm still a handful of used.
I'm still a pile of pink and grey.
I've just been packed into a ball of passé.
and I smell like **** now that I've been sitting there so long.

Courage SLAPS me in the face.
Thank you, courage.
You're so right.

I will ******* erase you, Fear!
Just like you erased me!
You turned me into humdrum,
so I'll chew you up like bubblegum!
I'll spit you out like poisonous lead
and I'll make you mine instead.
I am not your ****** ******* doodle.
I am a ******* masterpiece, you ******!

Alone in a forest
of dying trees
the scent of wet
decomposing leaves

Morose moose head
Cut at the neck
I can see your years
like tree rings

Body
Split in two
Down the center
At the Great Divide
Flies boil up from your flesh.
You were fuzzy once.

I can't hold my breath.
Putrescence fills my
lungs with rotting death
and my stomach turns
upside down.

Stumbling to fresh air

I trip
over your grinning, toothless
nearly human face,
spurting seemingly
ceaseless blood from
its masticated mind.

It is only attached to the torso.
I can see where your legs should be
and your are trying to drag yourself
through the dirt towards me
clawing with your
twisted fingers.
Trailing entrails,
half emptied.
Fully feeling.

I'm lying in bed.
Sunken eyes wide open.
All I can smell is rotting flesh.
I'm peeking down my hallway now,
and I see many mangled hands,
reaching from every doorway.
Burned, bruised, and beaten.

I sprint down the passage
frantically throwing
pentagrams
like ninja stars
through thresholds.

I hear sizzling like
morning roast
drips onto coffee burners,
and I explode into the kitchen.

"Good morning! Coffee is ready,"
Mother greets me, smiling.
The hallway is
dead silent.

I felt silly.

I felt silly because I didn't want to go to sleep and I was ******* exhausted.

But I wanted to soak in that starry soulshine you shimmer.

It's so easy to fall asleep
in it's radiant rippling warmth,
to float in it.

And it's just as easy to
stay awake in it as well,
to swim in it.

There are three things on this list:
Sleep, and basking in
your existence.

The latter is right at the top,

and  sleep  is
  all   the   way
      at    the
bottom.

Writing about you
is all the space
in-between.

But hey, I won't get too deep,
Because it's truly time for

sleep.

I'll see you
on the other side
of the event horizon
of conscious perception,

where we can float around
as bubbles through
solar systems
like astral projections,

and draw the line
between love
and perfection,

so we can use it
as a hop skip and a jumprope,
and we'll do it 1, 2, 3, but
what are we counting four?

Where does the rotation
begin, anyway? Don't ask me!
Let's just go for a spin!

Right from the start
and left from the fin,

any day, any night,
love, yan and yin,
I'll see you!

The tone is a human,
a human is a being,
and a being,
is a tone.
The tone is a being.

When one human sings,
they create a tone.
A tone that carries
all tones within.

When two humans sing,
they create two tones.
Two tones that carry
all tones within.

They are making love,
They are making a harmony,
and the harmony
is a child.

The union of two,
the child carries all
the vibrations of one,
and all of the other.

Every harmony carries
all harmonies within.

The child is one,
The child is twice one,
The child is half of each,
and infinitely more than none.

The harmony is a child,
and the child sings.

The child is human,
and the human grows.

When a human sings
they create a tone.
This tone carries
all tones within.

The tone is a being.

The being is one,
The being is twice one,
The being is half of each,
and infinitely more than none.

Each being carries all beings within.

When the being sings,
it creates a tone,
this tone carries
all tones within.