have you ever left your raincoat
and then
suddenly
the only cloud in your Kansas
finds you leaning into a black wind
like icing on a fruitcake
hat-less ?
your hands in your [ ragged empty ]
you call pockets
clutching threads and mending holes
with numb
prayers
faith-less
have you then ever found your raincoat
over shoulder just where you left it
only to stumble upon your hat
or one that looks
just like it ?
and then you put it on
and the ****
thing
fit ?
if you have then you know this is me
lending gently, you my coat.
hoping you take it for the love what comes from within
too busy sparkling in prisms, to regard a grain of doubt -
just something crazy twinkling
on the surface of whatever
you must have only
just finished.

I will wrap up my scars in a bouquet      I left a jar at your window

lay them gently on your door step    filled with sighs and cigarette butts

ring your doorbell         so you could get high in the morning
      
and runaway            off of my sleepless nights of          
                                  
                             ­ boredom and sadness

And from his lips leapt silence
silence which says so much
beneath the layers
of its dead nothingness
And in his head rests madness
like a tire fire
he breathes out black toxic smoke
And in his heart
he screams out
Won't somebody help me,
can't you see I'm drowning here?
but they don't
whether it's pride
or arrogance
or whether those two things
are one in the same
his silence shrouds him
Nobody hears your silence

When I got to my first English class in college
the professor asked us
how would you describe yourself?
there were some pretty responses
I'm a leaf floating down stream
I'm a tree slowly growing
I'm a bird leaving the nest
It was my turn
A boulder,
huh?
please elaborate,
Well teach, it's like this
I'm not alive in the same sense as the others
I don't grow or change on my own accord
no I sit still
silent
immovable
stubborn
I take in what goes on around me
since the beginning of time
until the end of time
time means nothing to a boulder
My cracks are representations
of the choices and actions of those around me
and I'm still sitting still
long after they have passed
stationary,
but don't try to move me,
because once I get going
I only get harder to stop
So that's me
a cold boulder
only capable of what
the world around me permits

flying high,
set sail for broader horizons
try not to die
or disturb my comfortable silence
don't even try
to spark up any violence
just sit back, unwind
and listen to the guitar strings

melt into that couch
and block out the world
wash away all the ouch
and money and girls
become a total slouch
and laugh as the room twirls
just sit in that pouch
of a world undisturbed

but don't fly too close to the sun
best not to end up like
Icarus, the fallen son
because we don't end up in an ocean of water
we just burn ourselves up like lambs to slaughter.
so remember, take it easy
when you are trying to take it easy