hot
volcanic
spewing volcanic ash over the

toilet

that cheesy bean burrito wasnt a good idea

hot springs
sooth my buttox

so does
the
brown
family

there are 17 glorious children
4 old wives
and one balding man

we call
god

master

father

***



POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP



(rap voice)
kody brown is comin to town
wanting to turn his frown
upside down

lookin for da kids
lookin for da girls
lookin for an ice cream truck for da swirl

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh


b a b y l o n

babylon tigger thats where ill always ben


success every plate

my last name was christ

grindin dreams

one

pun


smoe quest
ever1

connely

receeding forehead

meadows of lava spewing fro m my a s s








PEACE



####################

In those days of woe with head hung low
In those moments of regret,
When your actions lose momentum
And your heart begins to fret.
When the best of plans do not work out
When your mountain seems too steep
And tractions lost in everything
And losing makes you weep.


Hard grafting wears your bones too thin
Your tomorrows fade to mist,
The splendour of your recent past
Despatched to moments missed.
Frustration that the rainbow plans
Have dwindled in the rain,
That your brilliant expectations
Have expired to things mundane.


Your stature has diminished
In the eyes of those you love,
Your capableness stultified
By the pointing velvet glove.
Self confidence is wilted now
Belief within less sure,
Potentialities diminishing
With every shrunken score.


Dark sombre thoughts receeding
Blue corners fade to gold,
Discontentment ****** asunder
As new amber dreams unfold.
The towering unhappiness
Diffuses to the air
And spirals of positivity
Emerge from here and there.


The path beyond the shadowed lane
Is there for you to tread,
Gird your soul for chance my friend
Discard the shoes of lead.
There must be dreams to savour
There must be goals to meet,
So launch your bold tomorrows
And delight in unknowns sweet.


You’re sailing in fair breezes now
The silver waters flow,
Warm sunshine on your shoulders
Rich contentment’s fine red glow.
For there must be dreams to savour
To hold within your heart,
To engage the thrill of living
And make each day a joy to start.


Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
7 June 2009

I am young but old
Not chasing the singing dragon out into the night
Dumping the dragging lull of liquor into my being
Like it will fill the cracks in my psyche
Thwart the emerging of my being like some slick spector in the recess of my mind
Gobbling up my intellect one atom at a time

Relevant only to the tantilzing beat of the bass
The ghetto melody making me elated to the fact that
A white hick hippy want-to-be can never be a ****
I am young
With the knowledge that time is in my favor
Wild wanton ways of youth touch my limbs with excitement
Too much drugs and drunkin dancing in the streets of small time city lights

Where I float on the blissful bubbling blunders of slurred words
And harmless touching that we all know means more than the numbing
Fuzzy fingers of inhibitors want us to believe
I am young

But I grow old
With the acheing feel of gritty mornings
Class time drool-drolling onward towards the final accumulation
Of my efforts
How the liberation of my mind feels fresh and shiney
But at once I feel a regress into old thoughts old beliefs and the worn out mentality of those older
I am old

In that my soul longs for the love that it is denied
Beaten down by the distance that holds it hostage
My tendancy to find rust and petinal signs of age beautiful
Long talks with my mother give me joy
I am old
In that I taste the test of time and see wonder in the generations past
Hoping for the sweet lull of a good nights sleep

Feeling and emoting a progressive approach to a dieing dicotomy
Loving
  Hating
   Saddended by things that will never change
I am growing receeding and more importantly changing
Looking to renew the implications of the word normal
But above all the old
The young, fresh and vibrant
I will forever more be
And always be me.

They told me way too long
So I tried to make it short,
I shrank and shrank and shrank
     so very small.

They took away my feet
and then my ankles
then my knees,
Till not very much was left of me
     at all.

They told me take out bulk
That all it was was outside hulk
So I grew thin and frail and slender
   and see-through,

Until I couldn’t see me
without my confidence receeding;
I disappear sideways,
Do I look good enough for you?

They told me take out words
So I took out words and words
And I stole my broken grammar
     hardly sense bones.

They told me too many letters
I wrote to you, too many letters
Letters with only one address:
     living room floor,

But I felt they were at home
replacing ground with styrofoam
that came out of my mouth,
     my hollow core.

So I let them steal my letters
Let them rip and burn my letters
They tore my tiny heart out;
    left askew
They took away those letters
almost every ******* letter,
Until the only thing they left behind
     was U.

I am falling for your lips and they don't know me yet
You layed me down at the sinking edge of receeding night
Sweat washed off the forehead of memory dame
Of reversions divisions revisions of appaling tales
Going under dunes, falling in spin of burning times
Revert on her knees bleed at your glorious feet
In the gaze in the haze of inconsistencies you retreat
Tied in holy suffering of sacred pain my existence crucified
Holding king death in embrace of countless lifetimes
Lingering darkness breathed shadows that flashes on

Body shaking
ground moving
red green blue
colors receeding
insides on fire
head pulsating
Assume the position
drown in lost ambition
drink it down
throw it up
same old ****
different ******* visions

Swirling fast
losing consciousness
groove is thrown off
now you gotta live with it
all those thoughts pouring out
like Kool-Aid
All those fools pretending
to listen to your tirade
They're not your friend
or your foe
But it's the closest thing to love
and comfort and contact
that you'll ever know

Love.
That tempting *****
At once giving and snatching away
All that is known
And all that could be had
She laughs at my pleas
I want it all and she knows this
Mocking and unyielding
She gives me a fleeting taste
Of the joy I have craved for so long
Before again receeding her gift
Like the drawback of a tsunami tide
I am then sinking and breaking
Under the weight of her
And all that she encompasses
And all that she ever could
Our mistress, maiden, mother, crone,
Cruel as the devil
And twice as pretty

He was so many things,
Cut-throat and proud,
Transparent yet covered in shadows,
Like a diamond,
12 faces reflecting inwards,
Bouncing from wall to wall,
Catching light,
In the most breathtaking manor,

He was young and soulful,
With leather skin,
Dripping in sunlight,
Receeding slowly,
Into maturity,

He was old wine,
Suited to his age,
Sweeter with time,
But he faded,

He was so many things,
But mostly he was mine

riding like the wind
over desert so ancient
full moon above
three eyes on you

stallions Arabian
strong & powerful
thundering along
away from everyone

chatter & lights
receeding into the dark night
never looking back
leaving everyone

wandering in circles
laughing & leaping
eons of being
lapping at thee

night so long
don't let it ever end....

when it hits
when the winding road leads to
a cul de sac
reverse & don’t park

later at night, wines on board
didn’t pay the extra leg charge by
the exit
child whines & grizzles for land

solid foundations covered by
mountains & waters
everthing flows down streams & creeks &
all the rivers join

heart pumps, lungs release, fins stomp
over rocky ground, pillars
hold up the whole, stop the waters
receeding, keep them

propping all up. venice in winter
canons fire, lead ***** explode
around people I love. look in the
mirror, see what stares back

a smear on the face of a guilty reflection.
pool of calm lake
narcissus new zealand. glow & frown
& pull in the fish

The autumn moon was receeding
At 5 AM this morning
Riding the wave of seasons
Wind stirring in a constant dance with the leaves

My cold mug of milk set upon the wire table outside
Under the Serviceberry
So I can pet the dog.

Kinetic shadows on the table
Wisped and whipped over the mug
Laying upon the white liquid
Thicker than the reflected light and dark. Boundaries that can't be bought.

Did the shadows, could the shadows, penetrate the surface of the milk?
Going deeper in where I can not see
To a place furrowed low
Perceived, yet not seen.

Is it a place with a soul
Creamy and still
Unmatched like time, marching or halting, that
which we can not ever hold?
Shadows on milk do not sink.

I offer this
Because theres nothing more
Just two feet a heartbeat
And a sample of my soul
I could write your name
On the receeding skyline
As dusk engulfs the sun
We could chase it forever
Fly too close and surely burn
vaporized, reduced to dust
Ashes on a pire of lost entities
forgotten as the night closes in
As if we were never here to begin with
As insignificant as faint embers
Floating into the breeze
Ascending higher
Chasing infinity
One consciousness subjectively
Reaching out to touch
Eternity.

My sweetheart you want to deport from place to place
For your sweet and lovely eyes I am ready for the race
Your whispers your gestures and your curves I celebrate
As a last resort hand in hand I let me see you face to face
For your sake I have been disgraced by all and sundry
But being a staunch lover I kept up your honor and grace
I have sacrificed my all luxuries and opted for the torture
Before I leave let me take you in arms for the last embrace
I realized I saw footsteps on sand with receeding waves
I have done my duty by being with you from pace to pace
Mehr will not survive, will surely going to die in disgust
To save you from embarrassment, will not leave any trace

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow

these things.

these things you do
on the 4th of July
at an age
without thought...

things happen in front of
Madam Maria's...
(things happen
on the boardwalk
in Asbury Park...


...the police officer,
with a glee in his eye said

he was going to put
me in the cell with
Big Mortimor,

the happy tone in his voice
(and it worked.)
I was ******* myself,
serial killer
hit man for the mafia,
******... roommate...???

this isn't about me,
what brought me here
to the city yard ...

as it turns out,
it was Reverend Mortimer
from Our Lady of the Perpetual Motion.
the issue it seems was
the sisters.

the Sisters of Perpetual Motion,

for a $20 donation and up
a sister will love you.

more later, about the reverend, but back

to what brought me here
to a cell in the city yard
of Asbury Park.

as I reflect on what brought here
(vaguely)
to the city yard of Asbury Park

ah, fight.?

I had said to her,
your boyfriend,
"he's only over compensating
for his receeding hair line
and feelings of inadequacy,

ah, ah, a fight went down, I believe.
(I didn't know I had hit
the mayor.)

what more can I say
about my stay,

in the City of Asbury Park ?

the sisters???

that things happen
and you end up
in a cell
in the city yard
in Asbury Park
with a room without no view...

...oh, back to Reverend Mortimer. apparently

the. U.S Constitution,
NAACP, ACLU.

it was a religious issue. AND SO, FREE

the Reverend Mortimer threw a big party

with the Sisters of Our Lady

of Perpetual Motion!!!

Today I found my happy place
is seeing my head succumbing to pressure,
finding itself displaced
from not the event,
or indeed my need for protection,
but from the simple fact of
continuing to be
before again retreating;
Receeding into peace.

Confused by the creativity
Submersed in its beauty
Choking on its inability
To simply slow, maybe freeze
The words maybe then
Could flow with ease
The reason would have  meaning
It wouldn’t feel like I was screaming
Drowning in the dire
Consumed by my fire

The rapids of the rain forest cut rigid streams into a rapidly receeding recollection
Acid burns as the wheel turns
A slow ebb of translucent trigonometry triggers the incomprehension
It wouldn’t feel like yesterday if tomorrow had gone so well
And if only today had a story to tell
Then the writing on the wall
Would not speak of a down fall

The words they merge
The ideas they purge
The mind you cleanse
Through this shattered lens
And as the end does begin
So my words shall be my sin

Mother Nature wears her green robe, bedecked with purple red, orange and pink. Winter receeding her frosty grip begins to shrink.

The eternal cycle of life, reborn in forest field and hedgerow. Birds sing joyful celebration as the evenings start to glow.

Gentle life giving rains, warm springtime sunshine encourage budding shooting growth.

Euphoric ! triumphant spring awakening dormant seeds to sprout. What a wonderful sight, the ancient wood echoing with life.  Infused with scent from a million bluebells nodding and swaying in the dappled light.

Inside my body lives a dragon
Nested deep within my chest plate
Watchful gaze that keeps its sacred
Home.. my mortal soul
And head safe...
Rivers of a glacier thaw.
Receeding into streams that run like clouds. Into my headspace...
The land he reigns. Sometimes strange
The evrr changing landscape...
Like shapes in smoke. A  shifting
Scope. Never knowing of a bad day.

The older woman smiled,
As I was seated at work,
"You remind me of my father,"
"Your receeding hair's beautiful."