My home has no walls to look upon
no roof to stave off wild beasts or tame the restless seas
no window glass, so clear my days to gaze
A soul to dwell in mystery
so soon my days to fly away
yet stand the oaks of long ago
watching children play

Morning wore a robe of clouded sun
rain washed the day away, til broke the sun again
hidden in a thicket brush sang a tiny bird
sweet songs to light the darkness
from this world

My boot prints leave train tracks in the snow
Because I walk with a shuffle
My parts are incomplete; I find

walking uncomfortable

No one step feels the same
But right now it’s okay
Because between three feet of snow
A moon so perfectly halved
Under a sky naked of its stars
I feel
As if my shuffle
Is graceful
As if my walk;
Permanent
As if my steps
Are purposeful
Even if a little

Awkward

I am standing under a street light in three feet of snow
Not feeling cold
Or alone
Even though its cold
And I’m alone
My mind
It does not mumble
My speech
It does not stutter
My hands they do not shake here
I
Am permanent
I am whole here
My veins
They do not show here
They are not vulnerable in their color
Here
My heart
Doesn't skip a beat
My breath doesn't waver
here I do not hear
Ticking clocks in my head
I do not say clicking tots in my head
My speech is free of stutter
My mind as certain as these disappearing footprints
My walk, well
I still shuffle

You are not mine
     and never were you meant to be
I have taken
     what does not belong to me
In doing so
     we were robbed at will's decree
Of forever
     replaced it with carnality
Although  it felt
     like everything fit perfectly
I watched my heart
     fight the lie relentlessly
For I have been
     long before our lives did meet
Tied to one
     who set his soul upon his knee
And I must go
     I'm asking you to let me leave
To claim again
     the key to our eternity

Numb me with marijuana
Grown somewhere in Tijuana
Excite me with a line
Pretty soon I’ll be feelin’ fine
Money can buy me happiness

Meet me in the back of the bar
Smoke that musky Cuban cigar
Touch me with manicured hands
Glinting diamonds of wedding bands
Money can buy me happiness

Traded morals for skyscrapers
A Hampton house with too many acres
Smoothing down in a velvet gown
Baby don’t you see? I own this town.
Money can buy me happiness.

Her intense presence
does something tender,
to his heart;
that eludes words.

               When she speaks,
               in a soft soothing tone,
               the pain she suffers,
                submerges, goes missing.
                How much she endures,
                how long,
               he can't fathom.
A silent grief
binds them together;
he is the mirror
that faithfully reflects.
He feels now
the gentle spread of moisture
enveloping them both;
dried up skin
on his face comes to life again.
Lips, curled up dry leaves,
are pumped up with chlorophyll,
turn towards her, the sun.
                                     He dissolves,
                                     in the thought
                                     of her pain,
                                     becomes her  tear drops,
                                     roll down and fall
                                     one
                                     by
                                     one.

(Wash, rinse, repeat)

The white dome of bone beckons
For another wash, again
Again,
BACK into the shower basin, again
4th time tonight I'm BACK

Scrubbing my scalp
Fingernails on shriveled fingertips
digging trails & rivers
Through the skinny bone.
Crop circles all over my balloon head
showing & telling White Skull Diaries

Squeezing the shampoo bottle empty
Shaky, macabre cleansing;
I get lost watching the spiral of water & bubbles
As it vanishes down a drain

I step out of the steaming shower
And face a foggy mirror, again
Again,
I dispise the blurry reflection
All I see is a stark white skull anyway

It goes back far
This is going to be hard to hide
Exposing more and more white skull
"Just stop already
The drain's f*king clogged with hai   r"