There is death here.
The ground bleeds
slowly through
shallow holes
letting small flowers grow
faintly smelling
somewhere between
perfume and decay.

No one stirs to
wipe this dark stain away.
Dirt and stone mark the space
pointing to the place
were all journeys end.

Soft becomes rigid.
The earth dries
slower than
rigamortis sets in,

But I hope they feed me
to the fishes and wolves
leaving the rest of me
to the rest under a tall tree.

Dear, your dainty dandelions
are dancing daringly across
the dirt path way
straight up to my driveway
and it is very creepy.

Time is a construct.
Lives measured by a clock,

but eternity does not
see or need seconds or minutes
it does not believe in
Mondays or Tuesdays.

We see, feel, and define
false ideals in our mind
but reality does not mind
or care a bit about how we fit
into the span of eternity

Your pride
comes from
your nationalism,
your patriotism,
rage and dissatisfaction.
You pass each moment
stewing, colluding
with each new oppressor  
in the name of solidarity

Spewing slogans and
other simple statements
oaths and weak ideas
you build a fascist nation
and wonder how you ever got here.

I see the trees
rotting diseased,
void of spring’s leaves,
Roots cleave
dry brown dirt.
Wooden daggers
pierce the earth.

Grounded,
they are my roots
hungry for all
life needs
drinking deep
of the natures
rainy liquor,
but we are each
still dying.

They did not come with super suits
tight black leather, flame retardant,
massively muscled or otherwise.

They did not bring sacramental salvation
speaking in tongues while healing the sick
at the feet of saints and seraphim.

Instead, they came as strangers
speaking words of wisdom and compassion.
They came as counselors, and teachers
with kind hearts and good intentions.
They came to help and we are all
better for their goodness.

She was born in a building
with a thousand other children,
and the care that was given
was as little as the legally possible.

There was dust on the floor board.
There was glass in the cupboard,
but no love from a mother.
There was no god in the convent.

With all the fairytale stories,
with the hymnals she was singing
praising sweet hallelujah
heaven’s bells kept on ringing;

But the room was so cold.
The bread was full of mold,
and if she didn’t do what she was told
the nightmares would become
her reality of pain.

Since she was a female
since she had a ******
she had no say in her life.
She was the property of the church.

So, she died in that prison
never really touched by another
not a kiss from a gentle lover
or a hug from her father or mother.

With phlegm in her throat
with the fevered shivers
that moved her figure
she was lost in the church
and died another lonely body.

Im not angry only disheartened. I offered you a universe of wonder and you chose a dull road of uninformed and camouflaged conformity.

It is a miracle of desire
That flesh fits
That evolutionarily
We came together
Lust and pleasure
Temporary companions
In this temporary life

The city sees deciduous trees
Sparsely populating
Their concrete streets

Barely brown remnants
Of formally great forests
That branched out beyond
Our small minded conception

Bisected by buzzing powerlines
Spindly fingers clench tightly to
Old empty robin’s nests
Until frost and rain
Dismantle those ghost homes

Once vibrant basking in
The sun’s brilliance
Now anorexic
Throwing up multi colored leaves
Bulimically
Before winter’s burn

They paired us
In Paris

Dreamed up
Things to scare us

But the poets
Left for France
Because they could
Afford it

If I could have been
Gone with them
They would not have
To expatriate me

No need to separate me
From this American family
Of consumerism and greed

I would have preferred
To be in love in Paris

I loved you, beyond the grasp of words.
The paint brush I used to describe you
Was weak and withering
Needed re-configuring
Cause you were boundless

I loved you dangerously
Even when you hurt me
Scars and scabs
Nightmares in history
Bleeding insanity
Across the canvass of time.

I loved you even when you hated me.
The outsider, with ***** ideas
The spoken artist broken heart with this
Dark daring dreams
To help heal all human beings
When you were already so happy
Being subdued by propaganda

I loved your expressions
Your poetry, your sketches
Your philosophy and science
Your rejection of dogmas
When you had the strength
To reject them.

I loved your filth
Desire and rage
Lustful urges
***** thoughts
*******

Even when you beat me down
Like a trailer trash wife
When you reeked of hatred
Stunk of consumerism and racism
I still loved you

Even when I hated you
For breaking my heart
With all the bombs
And violence
When you turned my hopes to ash
When I watched you flash past
And finally come back
From dark ages to enlightenment
And back around again and again
I still loved you

I still love you

In the darkness
The quiet void
That we avoid

Because open conversations
Are sincere explorations
That bring light to the shadows
That empower
Those who once cowered
Bringing balance
To the broken scale
We called justice

If need be we can do this
Just for us
Because when this society bleeds
It seeds pain and destruction
Erodes the topsoil we sit on
Diminishes the strong
And even we sink in this hell
So we can help ourselves
By helping everyone

Or we can help everyone
Because they are one
Part of the whole
Covering the collective
Breathing in the same
Kind of air
Feeling the same skin
Because they are kin

Pick a reason any reason to begin
And be kind from there
On till your end

Time stretches the stars
Till the heart find their scars
Have become space time
Stretch marks

It is not your room.
The wound is not
your wound,
so you do not feel
as if the pain is real

but the blood is factual.
The loss is actual.
The costs are varied.
Each face
wears sorrow’s
sick slick scars.

I can see them
from where you are.
Why can’t you?

I am weak
as all men are,

but on my best days
I would not hesitate
to take your pain
as my own,
bare your wounds,
live in your cage,
so you could be free
to grow and be
better.

It would be
a worthy sacrifice;
You see
but that is just me
on my better days.

The falcon stole the sea
Soft pebbles broke
Beneath my blistered feet
Dark dreams of water
Black waves drowning
The very core of my being
Salt burning my last breath
The wet fire of fear and desire
Tempting the void
To claim its cheap carny prize

My howl is a whimper
Blade winding the windy city
Streets cut corners through daffodil dreams

The wolf becomes the lamb
Kicked and sheared till bleached bones
Break and disappear

Not even leaving a wasteland of corpses
Just a frosty landscape
Painted with black tar
And tread marks

Corporate engineering with slight color variations
and logo imprintations do not impress me.
Assembly lines do not find or make time
to free the proletariat’s enslaved mind.
They just distract us with delusions of
capitalistically designed versions of individuality.
The fact is unbridled greed can only collapse this
mad consumer society,
because selfishness subtracts the humanity
that got us to this age in the first place.

Today I understand incoherent rage
Learned the loss of my best disposition
With the youtube clip
Of a felt tipped double dipped *******
Spitting ******* about how the government
Is coming to **** him

Pleading please help me by killing them
Empty brained slack jawed hee haw
Huffing the exhaust fumes from some
Sixteen mile a gallon extended cab
Four-wheel drive ford truck

Chubby face running of with
Nineteen twenties style militia hate
Red neck panting and paranoid
Rallying others to his cause
With sloppy sentiments and stupid slurs

No information or reason
From this white entitled flat earth creationist
Spewing patriotism and treason
In the same stank skoal scented breath

Afraid of the Muslims, Communists,
Socialist, and Intellectual atheist

Won’t wait to debate with facts
Cause facts are what he lacks
Just rash reactions with explosive violence
Beating up protesters to the point of silence

Reality ******* in favor of
Slow pre-used slogans with no clarity

I am getting so tired of this
Same old ****

We are a wall of lost children.
Tiny fingers fixing
the broken pieces
Of humanities innocence
mending her compassion,
sewing the stiches of
goodwill back into
her being.
Until goodness can be seen.
Till the stars look down
flaring with pride
to see our brighter side.
Children of the cosmos
fulfilling our purpose.

2015 and as I look back
I cannot find the heart to laugh
Losses build shadow blocks
Oil and rot that clog tired arteries
Cracking my positive disposition

The coat is coal black and twice as heavy
compressing me
but I will not turn into a diamond.
The early winters white waves of crystalline water
are like deserts sands,
A barren wasteland,
leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The coat is coal black and twice as heavy
compressing me
but I will not turn into a diamond.
The early winters white waves of crystalline water
are like deserts sands,
A barren wasteland,
leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I used to have a horrible case of giving a ****
Sometimes you have to learn to quit that ****
Cause life will try to ***** a nail into the tip of your ****
Bust a fist in your *** that doesn’t fit
The kind of pain that you are ill-equipped to handle
This doesn’t mean I don’t love the world
I’ve just decided that I don’t have to be part of it
I’m just along for the ride on a separate lane
Off the track on a separate train
So I can finally stuff the pain of failed expectations
Where it belongs

Deep are the eyes that devour my soul
Soft onyx surrounded by emerald lightning
Hypnotic expressions of ****** obsessions
Lips grasp, mouth slurps, tongue sends shivers
But the eyes cause quivers of climatic fury
I gush with lust’s completion
Moving with unparalleled muscle memory
I toss her fair form roughly against the bed
Rip the last barrier from her body
And lap up desires sweet juices
Till she to finds completions
Then I make her come again

The time is eleven oh eight
The clock counts
The end of shift
To tick tocking far away
Nervous tongue
That splits the tip
Restrained to the point of pain
Fear that some vain *******
Who feigns righteous outrage
Will take away
That which enslaves
With meager wages
And the fool
Will not have the tools
To maintain this vain
Footrace
Slipping off
That track that
He hates
But believes
Is the only real way
To exist

There are smiles in the past
That bleed through to the present

Hugs and tickles
Running and laughing
A wooden swing
Puppy dog love

Journeys
Began and ended
Pathways merging
And parting
More than once

They play in my memory
Treasures
Better than a golden ring

Perhaps they are the parts
That make me
A decent human being
Because I hope that I am
A good man

The sins of the father do not own the son.
It matters naught where we come from,
We can scramble out of the shadows of history
and become a better breed of humanity.
Just because it was and always should be
will not be a rallying cry for traditions.
We need not cow to superstitions
that diminish us,
because we have the potential to be
Brilliant.

I think his name was Sam.
There was poetry behind his face,
Wrinkled and world weary
brown and drawn
deep and porous
battle damaged
from fights and loves
from losses,

now blind.
Half a homeless heart
still hoping to be reunited
with the other part.

With his last bucks,
He buys his lover
A shiny trinket.
Taps the sidewalk
with a thin white stick,
hungry
but holding on to
the precious gift.
which he will give
his Italian lover
when they meet again.

In dreams he sees,
not blind but two young studs
still so much in love
with a full future ahead.

Cold concrete and pillow
for his head
one blanket
and hope, a fruit dangling,
just barely on this side of death.
He is alive
and still in love

Once proud this waterless rock
Now sings with all her being
Humming winds
Swirling in space
Touching the face
Of eternity
While lusting after infinity

Split infatuations
Sick with desire
She spews fire-like mud
Splitting herself
In anticipation

Her core churns
Her soul burns
Coldness creeps
Into corners where
Her strange affliction
Bares itself.

In love she is cracked
Shaking off the last bits of history
Till space and time
Consume what is left to find
And only radiated crumbs remain behind

Why do particles cease to exist
then in an instant re-manifest
as if they never went anywhere?

Tell me how a particle can exist
in one place and the next
at the same time?
Such strange thoughts blow my mind.

Why do particles behave
in different ways
when they are watched
and when they are not?

I can’t say.
Who can explain
such strange quantum ways?
Don’t we live in such
strange scientific days?

In the before, before we ever were
We were the primordial
Till our ascendant transitions
Overtook our **** poor positions
On the rearranging food chain

When we changed to five fingered beings
With high octane ape brains
Transcending our vocal limitations
With new sonic imitations

A long lineage lining up
For one improvement then the next
Rising with each step on the DNA stairway
Loosing and gaining, gaining and loosing
Till, organs become vestigial
And even we cannot suss out
Their original purpose

We barely know the steps
To this historic dance
Just taking each adaption
As a matter of chance

Till tired tangents separate
Grow and aggregate

A billion years finds us here
Stewing in fear of
Our own irrelevance
Not knowing that by growing
Such creative brilliance
We have discovered
Our own non-magical miracle

Twigs sprouting leaves
Protein powered trees
Our heritage ascending to the state of
Such a prodigious poetic primate

I love the creative insights
drawn from long hours
of stillness.
I would live there
but for the dread of boredom
and deep dark revelations.

I used to dream of
endless M.C. Escher stairways
that led to quiet rooms
with no one in them

Evolution is like a rubber band ball
starting small and simple,
but slowly expanding,
changing while keeping
each piece that came before.

Desire is the poetry of flesh
Legs spread when she begged
I inserted the tip of my head
Passion in thrusting
Moving in lusting
Combining bodies
Once separate now fluid form
Moans escape both lips
I move in her, breathless
Deathless in this immortal moment
Every ounce of thought power
Pushing in and in and in
Forcing closeness
Till we *** and become
Separate again
Until the poetry returns
And desire burns
Our flesh once more

When you died
the world did not change.

A pebble tossed to the bottom
of a bottomless lake
left only a fractional ripple
and disappeared.

That you were here
mattered very little.
It did not change the tides
or stop the winds.

In your end
A handful of family and friends
felt deep anguish
but the world still turned.
Infinity still burned.
Eternity did not feel
the aching cost of loving that
which was forever lost.

The view outside my window
Did not stay the same.
The season changed.

I felt the cycles of pain
bouncing back
year after year
harder at first then softening some;
Waking in pain,
then easing some.

Till, I was intermittently numb.
Then I forgot to grieve.
You are still a part of me
but even I go on
turning like the earth, without you.

Is our evolution a Greek tragedy

Tales of success and stories of sorrow
Borrowed from one generation
Transferred to the next

And the Dna cycle goes on
Loss after loss

Providence expanding
Families disbanding
New lands conquered
New deals bartered

Proteins become Amino acids
Amino acids become DNA
Light sensitive cells
Develop depth and width
Four fingers find the fifth
And we expand the breadth
Of breathing distance
Between us and our species of origin

Oh the stories that could be told
Of love, and ***
Of love, and loss
Of birth and death
History unfolded

But the tragedy is
That it is all history that
We managed to miss

We only piece together
Small pieces of people and animals
Play the game of clue
To glue and deduce the truths
Which are swirling in a muddy bowl of
Unwritten stories

Strong, is the slender goddess
Who walks with the forest nymphs
Sleek and straining muscles
Tightly toned
Flesh touched by wet green leaves
As she twists and weaves
Running playfully

Black hair
Brown skin
Loved by Helios
Sister to Apollo

Deep within
The sacred hollows
She howls with wolves
Runs with deer
Hunts wild
Where no humans dare
To peer upon her naked form

Except for one
Whom she turned to a stag
And had
Her loving pack
Rend the flesh from his bone

If I remember correctly
That book that you taught
The BS we all bought
Specifically, said
No false idols in god’s stead

But today I see
Your televised priest
Asking for a G-6
Some deep strange ****
Talking about how
If god wants me to be rich

Hold up I thought Jesus said
Denounce all worldly goods
And follow me
Not get rich on cable tv

And thou shalt not lie
Well you blew that guy
When you told your wife
You’d be out for the night
But went out to **** some guy
Get two for one
Cause you just committed adultery son

I recall turn the other cheek
Not go out and get a gun
To shoot someone
With whom you disagree
And do we have to add
Thou shalt not ****

I also recall
The meek will inherit the earth
And as you have done
Unto the least
So you have done to me
Which doesn’t mean
******* on the poor
While sitting on your nice porch
I’m sure you got a lot to say
You can go on and shout out
About how we need to pray
But maybe you could start
Acting in a way
That doesn’t make your Jesus
Want to run the **** away
And stay in a place
Where he doesn’t have to face
Such deep hypocrisy

Flash forward
Flash flooding
Fast waters rising
People lying
About the coming storm
Say cold is warm
Break the frozen
Shattering like
Already broken
Mirrors,
Let them
break again
I am not
A soft statue
I am marble
Worn and sanded
Smooth sides branded
With age lines
With life’s weariness
I am furious
Ready to snap
But I am already cracked
And the flood waters
Run over me
Around and in me
Slowly eroding
Everything I am

Rules do not make something
Right or wrong
Talking heads do not
Make something
Right or wrong
Fake gods
Do not make
Something
Right or wrong
Traditions
Just because
It was
Always done
Does not make
Something
Right or wrong
Your law
Does not make
Something
Right or wrong

An explosion
Rage at the system
Red
Violent
Rage at injustice
Blood
Anger
Rage forced inwards
Backlashes
Brawls
Or Self-harm
And the rage
Rages on

The greatest propaganda
In America is
The delusion
That you are free

Though you do not
Rest in a cell
You are not free

When you submit
To the ruling class
To get by
You are not free

Standards and laws
Made to protect
Divest you
From yourself
You are not free

For the sake of stability
You conform to a job
That you hate
A good little drone
You are not free

Even if you do not agree
With the laws that they make
You must obey
Or they will take you away
You are not free

In order to maintain
The basic family bonds
You are constrained
By their wants and needs
You are not free

If you want to fish
Or hunt
To feed your family
Or just for fun
You need a license
You are not free

Even when you vote to decide
What’s wrong and what’s right
And elect politicians for your side
Those people lie
Doing for the rich and their own kind
And the choice you had
Be it good or bad
Was a fractionally effective
Cause you are not free

Tolls on the roads
Taxes on your checks
Fines and other fees
Cause you are not free

Been a while since the draft
But that could come back
If the private war contractors
Ever get busted
And taken out of the field
The army will make you yield
Or imprison or ****
Cause you are not free

And freedom of speech
Could cost you your job
Slander if spoken
Libel if written
The rich lawyers and judges
Give and take permissions
PC speech
Abstract unwritten rules
Condemn you and yours
Cause you are not free

Any laws that you break
The ones you did not make
Could turn you into
A prisoner of the state
Enslaved, forced labor
Cause you are not free

And if you want to leave
This great country
To travel freely
You must pay for
A small passport
Or you will be confined
To the imaginary lines
People made up
Cause you are not free

Some will say
If you speak this way
You are not truly American
That other countries are worse
But what they lack
Or if I can’t solve this problem
Does not detract from the fact
Does not make lies true
What I am telling you
Is you are not free

I’m tired of this rant
Cause the list is to long
And I wish I was wrong
So tell me please
Where is your true liberty

There was a man sitting at the docks with a boat as he watched a young boy drown. The drowning boy cried help me in gurgled tones. The man with the boat at the dock sat and said "I will pray for you." He prayed patiently waiting for an answer while the boy drowned.

It is time for a mellow ride
To the musical side
Of this temperamental
Dark life

The cold wind whips
my very bones,
strikes the skin
to bend
me to nature’s will.
She whispers
with a melodious tone
“Sleep my child
for tomorrow
will never come

We are fragments
Minstrels in our memories
Ghosts
Only partial presence
Our essence
Only vaporous
In filament
In digital
In audio
Visual
And literary
Fading
As all things do
Imperfectly remembered

Desire is the will of flesh
Wanting to pleasure oneself
And when it harms no one
Whose business is it
But your own