his voice is deep
and fluid

carrying shades
of blue and black

specks of red
in battle scars

I listen to him
he has lived

so many words
and loved so

many pains
a heart held

together by
thin threads

I listen to him

his words
impregnate me

the will be
my children

when I finally
learn to speak

that night we
started a religion

worshipping

the thoughts
we shared

we wrote
everything down

in our minds
putting nothing

to paper

we did not want
followers

each night
our lives

would become
more

synchronized
until we became

the one true

what is silk?

skin like
creamy milk

whole
bodied
white

ghosts
envy

my eyes
whisper

sweet nothings

my voice
tears up

wanting more

than what is
possible

my heart
is a balloon

eventually

popped or
deflated

I carry him inside of me
the little one lost

he is small
but heavy

like a dark star
like a black hole

broken at birth
born into a broken egg
he has so many deep scars

the kind that never really heal
so even after all these years
they are still tender
to the touch

he never really learned
how to feel

or more accurately

he never really learned
how to make sense
of his feelings

I want to speak his words
express his feelings

he held them in
for so long

he tried to fit in
…sort of

but he was cursed from
the beginning

he was somehow
smart

smart in a way
that made him
see more
hear more
feel more

so much that it
made him cry

so much that
he had to hide

so he didn’t cry
so much

even when he was small
he was larger
than the others

he was larger
in ways that made
him heavy

and no one could
explain him

they didn’t know
the theory that could
explain him

make him feel better
make him make sense
of himself

but I have learned
a theory to explain him

a theory of levels
a theory of sight
a theory of time

but now he is so far away

buried under layers of time
buried under layers of scars

I don’t think he can hear me

if he could maybe
he would lighten my load

he was a vessel

power surging
through him
from above

his words
made the world
seem different

a new world created by
a new set of words

I listened to him closely
followed each time he spoke

I let him invade me
with his words

and I could see more
of what could be

and I could see

that what could be
could become what is

a different world
for everyone

speaking made
him weak in body

so that
he collapsed
in my arms

he knew what
was to come

he knew what
he was
being asked to do

for his words
to have meaning

and he didn’t know
if he could do it

lost in the
crazy vein

is a magic
carpet ride

to desire
succumb

to the
succubus

she stares
into the void

seeing her
beautiful
reflection

wink at her

hearing her
voice sing

that song
she loves

she must want
me to succumb

she knows I
can’t float

I can only
avoid her

or drown

it exists for its
own sake

not for others
and those who

seek it for its
own sake

spread their
disease to

others for
their own sake

this room is
in too deep

stuck in
thick layers
of sick

we live in a semi-circle
and I can’t move

dark thoughts
are snakes
swallowing
themselves

living on
without
a natural end

voices seem
disembodied
detached

meaning is
hard creating
pains

we pass them like
peppermint candy or gas
or kidney stones

I ask you questions
in hard and sudden bursts
to penetrate you

I want to reach the word
in the center of your soul

to unwind the snake
so it can rise within you

giving you the power to
release it once
and for all

it is so bad
I don’t even want

to take sides anymore
I don’t want to

believe in any
of them and

I never really have

I want to believe
in our system

that it will be
bigger than any

one human

every human is
biased and
potentially corrupt

(the truth about us
humans cannot be
avoided)

but maybe together
we can create

something that
checks our

most base instincts
(to self-preservation)

and maybe
it can last

and that is the

basis of our
system

to help us check
each other and

ourselves

but check is
an action

and if it does
not occur

(if people don’t
perform their roles)

then why does
it matter

what was
all of this

for

has the grand
experiment

failed in the end

he was asleep

in his own
satisfaction

she was awake
wanting

the snake
was a figment

something to blame
for his future

the tree was time
and its fruit

the secret
she already knew

but pretended
she didn’t

she was not a rib
but she left him

with less of himself

white gold
sun drops

surround
her thoughts

a halo of
hope

for the water

she hears
the whispers

in the trees
and she

dances to
their songs

like a
skipped rock

creating waves

she releases
thin strands

of auburn
from their tail

as

she collapses
in her

flower bed

if you remember
scratched records

when they would skip

you might understand
my mind

falling into a groove
repeating sounds

and words
and feelings

only it’s not as
easy to notice

and there is no one
to move the needle

wild rays heat

the children
of the poor

we were
the same

so we did not
know poor

we played
in the rain

jumping in
puddles

not knowing
dirt

was the devil
and cleanliness

was god

we all enjoyed
the same sun

and felt the
same warmth

on our skin

remember those
two times I smiled

once in the morning
when we found

that sunflower
filled with seeds

once late at night
when we found

that wild field
filled with fireflies

mostly I feel
too many things

to feel anything

sometimes I feel
a lot of one thing

then I smile

dreams breathe
without air

focus is low
energy flows
there is no
stopping now

I paint her naked nails
with red flowers

tulips

the city is bleeding

using needles to
drain the pain

of so many same days

we play with organs
like instruments

feel them weaken
under the pressure

mosquitoes bite
just for the fun of it

we let them have
their fill

watch them
enjoy their feast

then fly away slowly
just for the fun of it

our mouths are
gaping holes

of sound

it has a pattern
it repeats behaviors

everything does

it is their weakness
it is our weakness

that’s why it can
attack us

it learns our
weakness

by replicating
itself rapidly

we can’t do
that physically

that’s why we
invented science

we can experiment
and share knowledge

in essence we can
replicate and share

our minds and
together as

humans attack
our common

enemy

he ate hate
it could not
be digested
it was a seed
of a ****
that sprouted
and grew
and spread
into his soul
so he could
not be separated
from it
it had no
specific need
other than to
spread itself
so he spewed
its seed to others
and they ate hate
it could not
be digested

after much effort

I become a sentence
perfectly formed

everything in its place
I am the creator

of sensemaking
I do not want

to be copied
or pasted

I do not want
to be shared

or followed

I want to be memorized
and repeated

as a prayer

I want to be carved
and live in marble

like so many of
my ancestors

lines and curves

the distance
between points

I trace slowly

with my fingers
and my mind

touching all parts
equally

I want to reach
long term memory

so this becomes
part of me

as necessary
as my lungs

and my heart

1.  little monsters

there are things inside of me.  pre-historic things.   lizard kings.  things that cannot become words.  some have been buried there for years.  others came alive.  recently.  on their own.  rose from the swamps without intent.  I enter the depths of this unexplored world.  but I am lost without my words.  I have not developed the skills to survive.  amongst these little monsters.

2.  it rains here

her hair.  like her mind.  was scattered.  made of all things deep and muddy.  made me think of the earth.  before corruption.  nature’s reign. she has a soul.  I don’t think.  she always had one. I am possessed by her.  obsessed with her.  she is too young to be ancient.  she is too old to be modern.  she is finishing her sentence.  I will wait for her.  no matter how long it takes.  

3.  awareness

I sit in a corner.  folded hands.  a mild child.  I scream into the lead-paint walls.  and watch my skin peel.  a wild child.  I reach the edges.  consciousness implodes. in my brain.  she wraps herself around me.  thinking I will calm.  eventually.  believing I can be calm. eventually.  I am a snake.  biting myself.  squeezing myself.  shedding my skin.

4.  after math

she escapes.  first she exploded.  inside.  then a year later.  she died.  poison invaded her walls.  poison as a solid can be removed.  poison as a liquid.  or a gas.  spreads everywhere.  inside.  slowly a solid grows again.  and overtakes everything.  good.  and clean.  and then she was no longer.  a name.  or a number.  she could make no payment.  she could not be charged.  anymore.

he lived in the
deep place

where darkness
edged out light

by a little
but he thought

it was a lot

there was pain
in his soft voice

the pain of too
many ******

the loss of
blood grew

slowly so his
impending death

was not obvious
to most

as his words
hid their meaning

from most

I know these people

they create sounds
from deep inside

so deep

they sing to me
their magic spells

make me feel
deep inside

so deep

and in these
shorter days

too many of my
favorite stars
have died

so soon

he promised me
I could be the
smallest word
that I could hide
in his book of
mysteries and
everyone would
see me but
no one would
ever find me
and he tried to
keep his promise
but he never
saw you coming
the clever girl
who could read
between the lines
and understand
the smallest word

I remember when
I first met you

in the Navy
on the carrier
in the office
on a cassette tape

new wave aaron
introduced me

he was odd with
a great big heart

and you were
deep and emotional

with a sound that
broke my soul

when it needed
to break

I think about the
people I met

through life and
the gifts they gave

exposing me to
music that stays

with me for life
I wonder where he is

I know he married a girl
named Paris

and moved to Hawaii
but that was long ago

maybe I’ll listen to
you tonight

I need to break

we exchanged words

the speed of bullets
pinging off walls

luckily we had
bad aim

or maybe we
didn’t want to ****

each other
we were young

we didn’t know how
to form complete

sentences

small sweaty room
tightly packed

with gyrating hips

loud sounds
penetrate our souls

his voice was
speaking tongues

make us scream
like hungry babies

we move as one
we feel as one

overcome by the
thinking machines

you tip-toe
through this

world

living on
an arched

soul

bent not
broken

you want
the world

to hear you
but you are

scared your
speech will

quake the
earth

and nothing
will ever

be the same

she looked so breakable

sitting inside herself
squeezing into a dark circle

she seemed to me to be

a star refusing to die
in danger of
becoming a succubus

the noise outside
was a hurricane

a pounding voice
begging for attention

thin strands of yellow
hair crisscrossed her sad face

trying to hide inside
the circle

she did not speak
even though her
body said she

had something to say

the noise outside
took up all her space

and she thought
no one noticed

but I noticed
I always do

she still lives
in me
she is impossible
to eradicate or
                       ****
she is a brain
   tattoo
she is inter
  twined
     a ****
         a vine
her traces
are such
she cannot
be traced
a slight
  sight
     sound
        feeling
            touch
gives her life
    in me
       an ember
           a spark
I cannot
live without

her sweet scent
an aroma

of desire
fulfilled

I feel the
satisfying
sting

a rush of
pleasure

for the first time
I am still

mind, body
and soul

wanting nothing
more I am

resting in her
blanket

I am dissolving
into dust

being nothing
more than

I am

she talked to you
and you mattered

at first it wasn’t much
casual words she

may have said to others

but you could see her
eyes were open

they could take in
more than the others

it didn’t take long
for you to let her in

she entered your mind
she felt your scars

and she wasn’t scared
but you were

you pushed her out
before she could reach

the spot

he was lost
in an old forest

young wolves
circling
smelling

his desperation

he spent years
building

his fortress
of thick skin

that nothing
could penetrate

that nothing
could escape

in this old forest
he was rigid

his cold
lonely body
shivering

unable to feel warmth

a human body
toned as
an instrument
to create a
perfect note
a perfect
movement
connected to
the world
only by her toes
and when she
leaps I feel
the earth move
as if she is
holding it
together with
only her toes
and I am witnessing
the collapse
of the world that
only stops when
she gracefully
lands on her toes

there are the bodies
and there is the dance

the dance controls
the bodies

each movement is
a part of something

larger than itself

the bodies are the means
to express the dance

each movement
only has meaning

when it is
in relation to

something larger
and deeper

than itself

I met her
as a child

and fell in love

she was so
tall and bright

she lit the world
and helped me see

and I knew
the sunflower

loved me back

she saw the
brightness

I buried
in my soul

I may not
smile as much

today as I
did then

but I
know the

sunflower still
loves me

she was by
herself again

eyes closed
floating in

blue thoughts
they comforted

her and carried
her away

to a safe place
I closed my eyes

and looked for her

but I could never
find her

my thoughts are
always gray

they say tomorrow
a giant swarm of
birds will cover
the night sky
as many as
50,000
on their way to
somewhere else
oh god it is my dream
to join them
it must be like
living inside a
young human brain all those
neurons swarming
from place to place
connecting and
disconnecting
the controlled chaos
of the moment
to some destination
in the distance
I can’t wait to see it
and dream I am
one of them

every day and night
I try to **** my shadows

my mind is
the constant beat

of midnight rain
and vampire bats

they want to tell
all my secrets
to everyone

I am so rich
I am on all the lists

so numbers have
more power than

words

but I will use
my words to

hide my numbers
in the shadows

and then I will
continue to try to

**** my shadows
so they can never speak

I am solid
obvious
immovable
I can be held and
dropped.
I can be lost
and found.

I am protection.
I am destruction.

I am liquid
subtle
unstable
I can rise
and fall.
I can refresh
and drown.

I am a flower.
I am desert.

I am gas
invisible
explosive
I can energize
and burn out.
I can ignite
and destroy.

I am energy.
I am despair.

I am memory
comforting
haunting
I can heal
and hurt.
I can free
and enslave.

I am faith.
I am despondent.

I am forgotten.

I take my time
around the curves

each bend tells
a different story

speed is for those
who go right to

the ending
they don’t

understand suspense

the secret is to
live inside

the mystery
notice all the details

so you can tell
your own story

I search through the dark parts of this city for celebrations; clubs or just crowded sweaty rooms where people dance, unaware of anything more than what is right in front of them.  The alcohol and the drugs flow into their bloodstream clouding judgments, blinding them, making them crave pain the way a baby craves his mother’s attention.

Without the sun, no one has a shadow to watch over them.

I am bumped and grinded into by both girls and boys, they crave me, as if I was a succulent, chocolate treat, but I don’t crave them, having tasted all varieties of blood I am now very choosy.  

I suddenly feel a familiar warm tingle throughout my body as if my hair is stretching; my teeth ache from a sudden growth spurt, and slightly puncture my lips.  I spot the object of my longing across the room, the naked nape of a lonely blonde; long whispers of nearly transparent hair spread across her back, skin as white as mourning, a dove, with rivers of blue pulsing through her.  As the Nile, they are the beginning and the end of life. They create a map that guides me to her, her to me.  I can feel the beating; each breath of her chest is inside of me.  She takes me back to the first day, memories of a thousand years reside inside of me and I still remember that first day.

Just before my never-fail dark eyes can call her to me a vulture of another color swoops in; carrying her carcass away.  She was dead before I met her, anyway.

Space is expanding as the crowd grows thin; the music slows to a draining pulse.  I know that sound, the end of the night is near; I leave this lonely land with all the other detached doves and vultures.

I stop at the corner where three streets meet and stare at the dark sky about to blink itself awake, bumming a smoke from one of the aforementioned.

I think back telling myself my story, as if it is the history of life itself.

My sky has only a multitude of stars, never a sun.

I think back to a time in the past when the future was still possible
when she was in the same room as me.  I think of red wine and loneliness; the temptation to taste first blood and wake up full.

I bite my lip and taste the sourness of the words I spoke to her;
words that would fall on deaf ears anyway.

Death is a lingering shadow that disappears when I come near.

Monday Morning:

The bed is light
I hear your
whisper before I wake.

Can I listen
for a moment
before you disappear?

I draw your outline
on the sheets
in black marker.

I light candles
and hold them tightly;
they burn the
tips of my fingers
black…

I want to call you
and ask you to
wrap your lovely thighs
around this lonely world,

but pushing buttons
is too painful.

I speak to
the mysterious force

the wind

lift me
carry me

take me with you

I know you are
strong enough

to hold me
to keep me

from falling apart

you may be
the only one

the boy had visions

he saw patterns
small and large

he made meanings

combining many
things in many

ways

he never tried
he just did

he spoke words
as if a spell

no one could
follow him

they knew he
knew more

they just didn’t
know what it was

he knew

the world was
bigger than here

but everyone he
knew was here

so he had to
leave here and

he had to leave
it now

until midnight

I will release
all the words

the secret spells
so they fall

indiscriminately
on these empty

pages

let the
stories twist
and swirl

and become
something magical

and after midnight
I will try to

sleep

and hope
any leftover spells

become dreams
light or heavy

I want them

to trap me
until at least dawn

you invented
the word

raw

to describe me
reversed war

saw me as
unprepared

for this world
not ready to

fight

for anything
including you

and you were
right

you always
had a way

with words

oh my words
capable of such beauty
describing peace on earth
and good will toward all
how can they treat you like this
using you to corrupt minds
telling so many lies
as if the words are lies
the lies do not exist in the words
they exist in the minds
and the mouths
and now the fingers
of the corruptors
they infect the words
with a virus
make them sickly
my heart bleeds for them
they do not want to be used
in this way
I hear them cry out to me
each time I try to sleep
do not abuse me
please help me

in the official room
sides are clearly drawn

it is trench warfare
no one dare stick

their neck out

the atmosphere
is filled with
twisted words

emanating
from knotted
tongues

beginning in
corrupt minds

truth is
an outline on
a sidewalk

the ******
weapon is
the quest for

power (or money)
(or both)

it always has been