Winter’s Rain, In Isolation... Sipping Dualing Cups of Coffee...
Up the Prairie’s Road to the Sun’s, Moon
By
Hanuman Hieros Gamos Moon
© Copy right 2012 by Hanuman Hiieros Gamos Moon
ISBN: # 978-4661-8678-1
Published By Smashword.com Smashword edition
Table of Mis-spent Poems
1. Wyoming Wind
2. Dancing fool, for Rocks
3. Tracks
4. Mis-sent Signals
5. Love Joy’s in the Coals of Creeks
6. Claws of Comforting Corrosive Heat
7. Harvest
8. Marriage & Sex
9. Dark as Day
10. Cradling within, Comet Forcing of
11. Drunk Hope
12. I the Tree
13. Grandfather
14. The Resurection
15. Purging Soul
16. Abondened Car
17. Crystal Shadows
18. Cobwebbed Masked Walls
19. Drowning Screaming Starving Eyes
20. Trapped p. I – V
21. Demonic Whore
22. Window p. II
23. Mind… Mine or Not Mine
24. The Party
25. Upheaval
26. Fog of the Sun
27. Sanctuary
28. Tree II
29. Love the Fuck… Terming the key
30. Scrambling Eggs with a Cracked Mirror
31. Wonder for the Sacrad of My lady’s Briddling, Heart
32. Eascaping from the Stripping Strings
33. Balancing Between Mind’s Dualty of, of within Bungee Cord’s of Lover’s…
34. Reactionless
35. Brake Down, the Directions of Thought
36. How Odd
37. Who’s world, Seen Through
38. All that He Wants or The Prisoner of the Drive
39. Gypsies
40. Pathless
41. Mask
42. … Of Distance
43. Realization
44. A Moment in 2 Nights
45. Stolen Love
46. Comedy & Tragedy
47. The Walk
48. Foolish Stars
49. Aerie Perspective
50. Losing Flesh
51. Mind p. 1 – 3
52. Manliness
53. Mangled Senses
54. Union Repention
55. Window p. I
56. Crystallized Sillouettes
57. Void of Existance
58. The Eyes of me, in You
59. Faulse illuminations
60. Void in the Mind or uncentered
61. Pheonix Flight of Ecstasy
62. Can You Guess
63. The canals through, to- of enlightenment
64. Crumbling Mind
65. Cocking the Knife
66. Inward Void of Exsistance
67. Invading Thoughts
68. Waiting
69. Last Night
70. Self Inflicted, Avoidance
71. Babbling Brake Down, Fighting the Dark Soul
72. Where Am I
73. The Damned
74. Karma Tic Judgment
75. Bus Ride
76. Buring before the Holy Ghost
77. Longing or Despair
78. What Controls Humanity?
79. Demonic’s loveful Bliss
80. Hand Jello
81. Losing Hold
82. A Falling Ear
83. Volvo Searching
84. Sexually Castrated
85. Sunsets Dawn
86. Night Drive Home
87. Dualing Cup of Coffee
88. Sipping on Prarrie’s Coffee’s Country Road Dream
89. Bank Rolled of 20’s... of Love
Wyoming Wind
Razor blades soaked up by my plaster skin, etching wrinkles only seen in the mind. lucid wilderness becomes incarnated reality. Faced with an outside world, nothing fits in the texture. Disconnected disjointed, broken from form. Symbolic statues no longer speak what they are: a car, a tree, a street- all crippled below my feet. Lost in the cerebral deserted desert cell: I walk on a linear trail, with only the wind to acknowledge my existence in me.
I have endured the extremities of internalized pain; laughed at its triteness. Picking at the emotional scares is a past time pleasure. But a sensual touch, sends me quivering in the corner; a threatened punch, parishes my will to push forward.
sanctuary, inhabiting public solitude, a block away. A shelter of safety from the insights of my skin, where I can be a spirit peaking in.
Dancing Fool, for Rocks
Screams of wonder, lack of faith in angles tongue. Wonder throughout the day from corner to cattycornered corner. Dancing the fool, the clown within collecting rock forms, rotating inner shapes, teasing of a day to play in the rain
Dawn’s sun seeps in blinding me from a heart of bygone days. Ranger rumbles by leaving mist in trailing tests… where as my lover’s heart gone.
Rock’s- slipping into shapes of hearts angels- a circularing waving, watery grave to plant daffodils, dandelions to get lost in the watery wavy leaves of the mysterious forest, running to, who, for angles song to whisper haloed echoes of a blinking neon sign for a feather to find flight in… I’ve lost, but have- won…? Within the siren’s song
Tracks
I went to the tracks last night, after debating with a beer. It lost out. I needed clarity, not, drowning myself in desperation... It was the wettest fog I had ever felt, but not a cloud in the sky... past store windows that reminded me of what I was trying to escape, little scenes of phantoms... dancing around the water beds at the furniture store... crossed couples without eyes but they had smiles of disdain, they seamed happy... in love. Fog horns reminded me I had set anchor in the middle of the intersection, I floated along... alone... I'm surprised it didn't rain from the lighting inside me... I could have robbed the gun store but there was a bum leaning against the window tossing his bottle... the rhythm alone...
I don't know. I don't want to believe my eyes, but... my, my heart deceives... why…?
I wished for a cop or a priest, to exercise my thoughts possessions. I wished I had that beer.
A flag blowing red haired women steamed behind me, as I leaned and looked over the bridge across the tracks. Her legs screamed for me... but I didn’t have the strength... or a knife. She probably had mace... I'm blinded enough without that in my eyes... I didn't but I wanted to.
Trust is a weird ability to keep... you... and him... was all that swirled in my mind.
I wanted to jump, I might as will have... because when the train waved by, what was left drowned.
Mis-sent Signals
Stumbling strumming anticipation sandals of eyes stroking for a night of watery camouflaging desire…
Rocking with stroking wondering hair… statue wavering of around arms eyes, swinging waving legs movements in discomfort…
Held back with wavering waves… confusion of what’s seen what’s rumbling felt of interest or stop signed. Crossing away through waves signaling to cross the road of shadowy bar-ed chairs.
What singles blink- red… green though held back in traffic of inches away car-ed chairs.
Flipping of hair, discordenattions of finding rhythms to inn songs. Wiping away any chance with the knowing of her nose. Readjusting swaying skirt skirting away… bouncing to readjust in a couch of comfort…
Love’s Joy’s in the Coals of Creek’s
Train ways to the corner, joy’s love. I sit in the corner of flowers of, by doors- duel beers in hands of balancing the wonder box of a box spoked bike- children wonder by the sight of the night. Where stars shine on belts of Orion Venus’ stirs the cocktail dreams of ice and cool lemon-aid on paddio-ed furniture- a message in balance for on the road of whistling forked streams smoking peace in dancing mingling crowds- Charley Browned boy wondering streets hand in hand with salt and peppered haired mother and father- salting the air to the asphalt bustling streets to roads untraveled… ice crescent scoops of dripping stars to the clouds swirling of pools of learned mother’s milk in the way of the milky way…
Cornered doors, wonder to wonder with a backpack as a saddle. Look to diamonded peppered eyes of hours sorrowing loving mothering light. A trinity of women, young and old but not old enough for that sorrow- wondering through fairous wheels of melting time… one way streets, circles spoke in the milk truck box, smoking from exhaust pipes- crowds sinking focus in on the daughter, bride of my longed for travels to, striped in gravitating in circles in winds feather flight, floating within worlding with the drowning crowd of my heart’s desire…
Drop a pencil to light a cigarette for wondering eyes for tomorrow… of pixied dreams shaded in enigmatic mystery’s rounding swirls of the farous wheels of the fairy’s farous wheel…
World turns around in clouds, taking shots with quarters. Eagle winged in angelic viney weeds of desires of dancing hair with in the wind’s swirl- hooking me in with you elfish eyes of the black swan…
Wondering looks around the rhythmic patters, flowing dress of angelic mist in waling crowds of crows- with a purpose- down one alleyway ways- cornered, cornering eyes arrowing a look in to my cupited heart of flowing street lamps- twined windows of souls dancing upon fires of streams, steaming a fogged night of raining on in a street dance- Ranger bound wrangling the snakes of lotus’s love intertwined, infinite eight of embrace- an Eden of apple trees- apples eaten…
Apples eaten while children’s eyes in de-light eating from cups of slushy blued iced mountainous cups, dancing in mischievous cuddling cradles of mother’s legs, flirting with the rain, covering recovering from sorrow…
Unbridled bike swings on rangering Ranger truck gates… A gate… a window to the door steaming in streams at the corner of burning coals of my hearts longing of wondering throw streets surfingly shuffling throw streams punked trash cans for the duel lights flame of English lamps to send smoke signals, stingingly smoke throw rock to zone in the Zen of searching light house yellow light, perringly piercing throw the fog of firey rain for your ship to come to port’s harbor…
… Love’s Joy’s of Coaled Creeks of steam smoking cigarettes over steaming ponds, lakes, oceans of steaming dreams of coffee…
Claws of Comforting Corrosive Heat
Corrosive heat, yet comforting in wanted but longing for. Mangling attached oppressiveness to association. Lying there, screaming a warm blanket to rest into to give into… know not wanting to… scorching heat sends signals of petting soothing comfort… what else is there, but to give in… lay in resting what until claws are unknowingly soothing it’s way in… Barriers foggingly hazingly associate, till not knowing where I am and the demonic’s snatches hold has warmed it’s way in… pressed down yet so lightly, no edged of battle, the mother’s light touch… why not give in…
Harvest
Sinking teeth into a forbidden promised land of an apple. Tossing in beds bewilderment. Longing for days, days where, days filled with golden orchards… for now, paying the fairy man three copper coins… Death every night… till crossing the river Styx your breath bleeds life back into my craving soul’s heart…
Dionysius will dance, never to die again. Harvesting always from your saintly kiss, purifying nourishing caress… your sanctimonious lavishing lusted for pure white cotton clouded skin, pouring ecstasy from Eden’s santuarious reaping into rapture…
I will never leave this land, this pastoral of your body.. This mysterious forest of your soul. I will dine on your elixirous wined lips. Be reborn… night after night… after dieing in your euphoric forest’s haven.
You will raise me every morning, with lips of wheat blowing in a blanketing breeze. Quenching thrust. From the night before.
I can never leave this bed of lavishing flowers again.
Marriage & Sex
Barbed-wire worn as
mummy wrap
Fate to never decay
Embalmed with sugar coating
tasting a tease of life
Incarnated by rusty old thorns
in which can not be taken
off
can't even find the pad lock
Dark as day
Dark as day
Dry as your kiss
Impatient soul to you touch
Where’s the fire in your eyes
Mirror reflecting night
Sinking in a pit out of love
Simplicity no longer ecstasy
Rain washes away my heart
Shattered self image to your stare
Wondering in a wind of fools
Shackled without your touch
Nightmares without your face
Smoke inflamed heart
Broken glass tears
Dreams torn from the flesh of yesterday
Shadows existence is mine
Choking despair without your embrace
Hourglass endless without your presence
Soulmate wishes in a grave of roses
Wedding bells cracked in a void of longing
Loneliness again in a sea of icy faces
Promises in lies of a truthful tomorrow
Promises without your voice
Day without your light
Cradling Within, comet forcing of
Cradling with in in, trying to find warmth sanctuary, only find nothing there but a further pit of ungroundednesss with in… no where to find a platue to build upon, to know what is not a jagged edge to split and mangle into unrecognition… where to run to without sight of where once been?... forced to run away from the world, a slave to what is beyond, a whip of oppression, without a world to grasp to find safety in…
There is no world to find. To hold on to. There is no definable action other then to cradle further with in, feeding within, losing slidingly hold onto a strained knot of nothingness, of unmaluible stone… struggling straining only to get further lost with in…
A hand to hold, is nowhere found… nothing definable inside to lock onto, not a rock to slam a spike into, keep from the fall… only to spiral throw the maze, further in
Nothing to give light to the oppression of suppression, no face to fight against… the outside world, self recognition slipping away into a mouths cave, quacking crumbling away, pushing down chocking life, never to know what is being faced. Losing a battle without knowing what is the fight is. Can’t find find what is not graspable, only can feel further detachment, a splitting slicing, a comet forcing itself in to space of where once filled in, the within… in this body in this flesh, even losing sight of that. only have a speck to hold onto, but don’t know what this is. losing hold of conciseness with in the within…
Drunk Hope
Handle bar drunks
Erection in their eyes
Last rejection, fumbling for a
coffee and pancake wentch
Irony leaves a big tip
I the Tree
The Romans cried out
Why shalln't I
The Christians cried out
Why am I silent
The path grows a thicket of foliage
I can't cut my way out
I can't pray my way out
I can't climb my way out
I will probably end up a tree
the very tree that
Christ was nailed to
The very tree that Christ
bleed on
Burn me
Cut me down
and use me for paper
before I kill Christ
Grandfather
A silent man; muted from the world.
device enhancing barrier disconnects
him from communal conversation.
Swallowed-up sounds, meaningful
tones... translations lost in
conversions.
Enigmatic inner-monologues, flash
through stretching aged eyes; wanting
to be heard.
Over a table, adding in over heard
unacknowledged words...
Grandfather
(the censored version)
A silent man, with enigmic
historic meaning flashing
behind his eyes.
Living for his family... and
not for himself.
An atmosphere of admiration
radiates from every nuansical
gesture: telling every thought; feeling
without a word.
... great men are noted in
dust forgotten about books;
but greater ones live on
in hearts, of their
families.
The Resurrection
The light of day
Matches the color of my blood
Cracking skulls
Brain oozing down
feeling like love
Bones in rows
waiting for the bride
Waiting for a savior
What happened to the real world
What happened to the life I once had known
Marching armies of skeletons
rushing to their lives
Closed coffins in closed circles
No One's Home
Purging of the Soul
.....Hem raging bolts of neurotic lightning emerges from the ground. Rear side revising of dicadmic (dogmatic) duality emerges with respiratory resuscitations, only phantoms purging, which direction to be found. Municipal masturbation misstates a clearing unclean, covered with elasticized amniotic floods drown all lucid vibrations, choking the blind man in mutated mumblings ranting hermitic verse, naked, binded from himself. Freedom scribbled in dyslectic tongue "evals morf modreef". Sink in egotistic sand, glasses brake, unquenched thirst evaporates rational reality. Swaying whirlpools spitting out tactile hostilities of reattachment, sorcerers flaunt enchantments, last in dead end incongruent decades.
Abandoned Car ?
Soul ripped out, soaked in tears. Heart stops beating, on a bridge of deserted tracks. Tracks leading away from the spark of a man, was emerging to be. Solacing sanctuary of a heart, lost in the icy dryness of the wind. Cracking away any chance of ever finding home… living in a ghost town within grasping for self. Wishing for the suns rays to melt away the unfulfilled promise of a resent could have been life.
Wavy hair waving away through justified feigned hatred. Wrathing burning banshee screams tender love within, though burns still in crashing waves of whirling chaotic confusion. Hope. Hope.
Of… Hope. Hope for love. Love not to be abandoned on the side street, in front of a run down, chipped away cracked painted houses with loveless broken limbed trees withering away from loves neglect. Mauling around with winds corrosive blanketing comfort cutting away, cutting down, what is left. Abandoning, as the car, unmoved, with snow craddeling a wanted unwanted life.
A drive by, shooting for the suns warming rays wreathing hope of thrown out love, could be once more. Burning… Burning. Never blown out.
Crystal Shadows
Crystals leave shadows
before the saviors hand
shattering shredded indoors
...............laced by lace
..........soft to the thought
sharp to the bare
Hollow Hearts
Crescendo’d to icicles
stacked
teeth toasts lust
Holy blankets
there's no shield
no cape
from the discrete
In a banquette hall
empty
shadows circle the raped knight
Absent fiery hell
blaspheming blocked edged ice
Yet, will melt soon from fear
Cobwebbed Masked Walls
One eyed fuck on a cobwebbed plaster wall. Screaming insestuil pleasure, vaginal discomfort bridges the cocoon ready for dinning ordure’s.
Rip off the latex mask coated with Crisco and show the true you in silk.
Drowning screaming starving eyes
Beaten down screaming from being hollow… dug out… eyes. Reaching with a subtle flinch only felt in the depths of murmuring pulsating last breathes of desperation and ice aspirations of her soul. Reaching with arthritically skinned clung clawing bones; for help never would be sought for, never be whispered for, from her lips. Shawled covered back, vibrated through a depressive stare, teasing in shadows of presence… the beauty she could be.
Nightmarish old crone stare, smiles back at me. Vamping vitality with every limp strangling corn slithering slit-ended hair. Mirrored by the oppressed women that swims still to be there. In the drowning pools of her hopeful, last dropping spic, almost smothered out eyes.
Stretching cradling her head in inner tormentingly turmoiled prayer. Screamingly starving silently wondering if God really cares. Abstaining from communion… gilt, or whippingly stripped… of being worthy of such a union? Unreleased by prelists mandates… a gravelling hand of pious righteousness, unfolding unblanketed comfort of the Madonna’s swaddling rocking mangered arms.
Paralyzingly walking… coals ashing… as the wind blows through her hair… graying wrinkling clouds swallowing here eyes… of despair.
(longing for the purity of the rain).
Trapped p. I
I am trapped inside
my dick
masturbate me
make me cum in your
hand
grasp the only part
of me
that makes me
a man
I am controlled by
my itching.....controlling
irritating... controlling
dick
chop it off
bronze it
make it into a trophy of
animalistic manliness
rub it until
I am trapped
No more
Until the next time!
Trapped p. II
I am trapped inside
my dick
That really makes
me a prick
Fuck me
Fuck me now
Let me loose
in you
wiggle all the
way through you
Take me
Take me now
I am your
dog
Led me into
eternity
I am trapped
let me out
Trapped p. III
I am tapped inside
my dick
forced to be controlled
by it
fighting to break out
I can't breathe
the walls grow so tight
How long will it be
until I am free
from this prison
this torment
Trapped p. IV
Trapped in a dick
can't breathe
can't break out
Fighting
Pounding
take in this prison
circular walls
padded cell
tormenting
insanity
Trapped p. V
I
am trapped
inside my dick
Give me the key
to break down these stone walls
Take away this solitude
this pain
that surrounds me
I fight
I pound
nothing will help
I am lost
Let me cum
help me cum
into your arms
I am blinded by these walls
help me see you
outside my dick
for who you really are
Demonic Whore
Broken bones, distorted cracked mirrors reflecting self image. Fallen angles from my heart. Guiden lost to formlessness. Mind and body, souls need for redemption, salvation… Alter burns yerns for a sacrifice I know not how to give. Maybe you’re my redemption. Tried everything else… but love is lost to my heart, emtion is forgotten to mind and soul… So how do I know… Gods even lost to me… twent dollar whores screaming clawing at to to… to… forcing a numb cock to come… even took home the with her the sperm filled condom hime with her, speculations to breed demons… her god, lilith… decaying my loins, my chi… Now where to turn, an unresponsive church with their, veins that demons no longer exsists, replacing them with psychological defunctions, scitzoid dillusions. Is love needed or a labaodamy?
Window p.II
Starring into a web cracked window
Forgotten glass shards, cut out of my minds memory
Jagged pieces; scattered, mirkingly mangled
Warehouses of knowledge, burnt to ashes
The phoenix will never be resurrected
Minds eye pictures unrecognizably smirred in obscurity
Simplicity muddled in obscurity
Naked to the nothingness with in
Wippingly stripped of thought, creativity lost to sterility
Forced phrasing, hours between lines written
Mind… Mine or Not Mine
Clash of wills, marionette strings being pulled, heart being spoken to but from whom? Perceptions obscured, losing trust in self, if seen is truly seen… Once beauty now of oldness and distrust… heart nowhere to turn to, nowhere to trust…
Claws imbedding, never to leave, whispers thoughts perceptions of feeling… is it my heart my mind? Madness sinking in… what has any difference between a miss-wiring of thought and turning reality from a turned bases of belief…
Clash of wills unbenouced to what to think,, where to think. How to think or even if a processe of how to think is of my own mind… detachment in neuroses of belief or though or another world beyond my control…
Lingering stone of anti-matter, pulsating force of
non-movement, forcing its way in, making home for it to play, win… conquere… Thoughts, perceptions seam recognizable thoughts twisted mangled with a subtly of not seaming, knowing where they come from… gestation, or not… other worldly, or not…
peering through perceptions eye, wondering which eye is peering back… where is reality of the reality seen… what logical paths is formed? Who’s thinking it?
Clash of wills, being forced within. Nothing to hold onto, but whatever, where this thought begin…
Once seen beauty now only seeing decaying flesh, radiating with dirty sweet, old decrepit eyes starring back from the image before me… is this my inner state or how I perceive her.. Britney Spears… in this world, is this what sexuality is to me…?
Clash of wills, forcing me within, losing grounding in my mind in my heart in my body, pulling my strings forcing to leave where once I inhabited… words spoken, know their mine, lead to believe the contrary… my heart’s mind, is my worst enemy right now… thoughts emerged from my nerves center, path unknown from where it was triggered… from the center of once seamed to be mine, thoughts emerged then instantly taken back, suppressed from ever being grasped, forgotten before it’s fully conceived. Falling into sucked into a unknowing land, never to plant further growth, or trigger rain to flourish other concepts housed with in that seed… it didn’t finish being implanted in me, it seams to me…
… where did it go? Back into the subconscious, into another’s mind, holding it hostage, teasing it away from me fully graspingly holding it.
A clash of wills, another’s presence non-presence, worms it’s way in, digging holes into my spiritual psyche. Burning, cutting it’s way in… only known by the space I once inhabited, now an immaluble immobile inactive energy of stone… this can’t be me, where energy and thought once thrived…
Know what is being percieved by what is not… what is there, is not what should be… not a different perception but a misleading insght…
Clash of wills… saturatingly contorted eyes stare back at me… can’t perceive myself within…
… … … me…
The Party
Come spawn among the demons
Swirl in the air
Feel the evil
Join in with the dead
Demons posses us now
We no longer have a soul
we can call our own
Sell your essence
Sell your soul
Join in the melting dance
Can't you feel it
Can't you breathe it
See for yourself
this is the way
Join us
Join us
belong to us
Individuality is lost
Don't fight it
Take part in the
Dionysus ritual of communion
Peal away your skin
Break down your dignity
Drink the sperm of the devil
Let it crawl through you
Let it grow in you
Upheaval
Flipping the switch, turn the wheels to detactchment. Blindness to misdirection of thought… upheaval and misassociation… disconnection to what is being thought, what is being focused on, through, thought process misjoined with another path of though… without knowing of the fall, falling without the thought… misguided perception, to lead away the lamb. It’s prey only to eat another of the heard
Chokingly pressing down, on, sniffing at the neck, ripping hunks from the gut…
Not the elongated time to tie together logic to logic, reason without agreement, knowledge without a bases. Only an absence of how thought got there… lost without a trace…
Effort behind the blind mask, no pattern to discern from, of where it will come from… no misjointing in thought from deep seeds within the subconscious mind… no being lead by issue, to be perceived… only the instant absence of what is there is not there
Fog of the Sun
Lost in the labyrinth of ashin sand. Burning to muddied clarity. Fogged over flames send hymns to heaven’s gates. Ecstasy’s in dance, embraces irony’s double tongued vision of perceptions perceptions… Flighty wind blows in misdirection’s of directions, with a coyote’s echoing howl subtly emerging, subtly felt through the caress of the hand in the wind… self crusifixtion at the crossroads as worlds collide and the phoenix burns to ash, to slowly ignite into an inferno without a sun to fly into, emerging- further into a blinding night’s rain… fogged over without knowing the purity in it… Cleansing from the pot of ashin dirt and moisture abandoned sand, with the sun surrounded by the clouds in the seas night air. Speckles of stars try to remind any embraced spark to respark in the moist dewed air. Milky ways trail illuminates a transcendence from the tattered misplaced forgotten and fragmented soul I’ve fallen to, that I’ve become…
Veiled worlds awaken. Walking inbetween veils of illusionary water falls to symbolic abstractions of true to form concreteness, a reality beyond what has ever been, been sensed by the senses. A unity of arcane divine with the solemn dance with forests blowing with still winds… A rain yet to reign, a fire yet to ignite from the spark that has seamed to kindle from the ashes of the old life purifying so to be no longer lost in the duality of the fog… waiting for it to soak into my soul so illusions of this life so far lived evaporate into the nights sun… and a rebirth from the walking shadows in death I have ever lived… will… will be reborn into an awakening, search for from the pulsating rthyms of dance in my heart… calling me from the barren dessert to the vined filled forest without trail, though filled with alcoves of rest and spots of whirl pooling sand to know of the moist acidicness city jungle emerging into night’s moon lights pine trees of sent of sage and sweet grass filling the labyrinths of streets and forgotten alley ways, buildings build with mountainness forests bridging worlds once lost in amnisiatic concepts of the engines of the motor car… with the song yet to be heard from the radio, singing stereo for what’s yet to be yet echoingly whispered… though only subtly felt pulsatingly vibrates from an awaking of my heart… that has been lost from me… which laid in hibernated dormancy, which only inconsistently awoke from it’s slumber… Only to be turned over again into the dark void of emotional death, yet the trail of the milky way’s clouds are fogged with confusing, with purifying clarity off into an unknown though known sun… through the dance still in a groggy slumber, in a funeral precession into the pyre of flowing river slowly embracing the night’s sun lit sea…
Sanctuary
Watercolor smirred café
Clouding, raining away what’s left of me
Leaving me without a sanctuary
Demonically blurred featured women stares back
Swirling, tying my perceptions onto me
Leaving me without a sanctuary
Soaked in nullification of self
Drowning without a heart to follow
Leaving me without a sanctuary
Dripping ashes erode away my mind
Burning, exhuming knowledge into a fog
Leaving me without a sanctuary
Swirling smoke evaporates my soul
Distinguished, lost in the women’s smudged face
Leaving me without a sanctuary
Tree II
Pitted wrinkled veins to tell anger graver then conceived. Arms reaching for food in a cloudless grayish muddy sky. Fingers, in their ambivalent furry, hunger for an embrace from the hidden sun. Sweeted bruised honey blood clotted between the alcoves of the veins from desperate attempts of breaking free from the bard-wire grass cemented down feet.
Love the fuck... Terming Love’s Key
Man of men, have been a man- to be a man of spitting distanced sperm over the bellituos fruit of of women. Ram it in her cunt- is a man's triumph of over lust. Rape and pillage the phallus for the Sun’s rays of sin... sin’s dangy dingy den of the lion praying on skin of bones, fighting for the last fragment of morsels toast- toasted toasting in lust’s juices for the next mate to stroke and notch his crotch. Croke goes to the cock as the cume spermingly venomates from his righteous mouth. To light the cigarette in within the mouths of women conquered on his cock...
Sing of your minstrels meet. Meeting on a bedded plate... seduce in righteousness of morals to dine in justified immoral caring - spit on me with your vomitous spinning swirling sea’s of sperming words of lustful eyes over love for them... to me why...? Why the lie of pursuing, pursuing poisoning of using morals to justify immorality banking on the bed of the women’s choice...
Fuckin’ bullshit... eat your shit back to me with the words of spermed up in of jizemed lips- to steal- a conquest to have over me. Within uncared justifying drop of a jizemed words in your wording lips tongued of why my the trail should be true-then an enlightened mind shouldn't care of betrayal, she think they for self on, nor about it, be her choice-taken as primitive low vibrational perceptual belief...
fuck her- in front, next to me- a sleeping to awaken, Hearing the beats of slippery slipping in ramming of fuckingly sliding coursed skinned hands into watery caves of waving within, caving-in graving my soul, within her treasured for plush pussies cunted skin- skin bruises knowing the lack of lack of love both shared for me in this wet dreamed nightmare of currents drowning trailingly clawing to cut away what little of pumping grasping for love’s breath... as I awake into-
love- not there in the bed- not there fucking next to me as watery vapor he vomitingly grows swimming through the flood gate of my subconscious into my consciousnesses to be awaken to hear the waving of rubbing cock ‘n’ caulking cunt’s skin growing for more grinding- as I'm paralyzed in disbelieved betrayal rubbing poisoningly pounding the jackhammer knife deeper to the last flow of my lover’s veins into my heart... love...? Love...? Loved...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love...? Love... ? Love that fuck- rather fuck him then, make love to me.
Love...?
-II-
Woman's prerogative... women's companion, to tease twists to the cock around her tounging fingers... twisted and words of her issue for her intent- displaced fears of four other guys miss-conquering treatment for insights of prophecy to justify why of the why...
to have... of her terming of terms to stop it mid-before Coitous cornering me around her snake tongued with the lashed tongue...
Desire washed over in whirlpools of fear... or... no desire there behind her getting her off...
off in contradiction within the waving hissing whispering, passionate winds till rockin’ her off to getting her off- barely sharing, barely willingly givingly a moment of to share- to share the moment with in of me... till... away off the bed spiraling spilling spewing words of not wanting sex... “I'll do it but, rather not...” Bullshit...bullshitting of disrupting of eruptioning kamatic uprooting to be drowned under six feet of an unwilling grave, graved over graved in crumbling caving in the grave... bed.. that it's from- give me a trial, a trial-buyers- beware- trial to trail up within- you, you have had others lay between- you, up your trail of altruistic truism’s of the alter within your trailing golden cherub guarding no-one but me, heaven’s to Edan’s gate... why hold back the alms to the congregational biblically congical collection’s plate... within- with me? For me...? Do you not... desire, desire me not. Desire me not in the firing pool whirling pool of your firing fire’s cunt’s desire for my cock, my cocking cock to dig deep within to find home within your funeral pyre’s grave graving in graves desire for you, for me to die within your quivering silkingly-saltryed quick sanding pool, whirling pooling of inferno-ingly engulfing me to turn to the powdering dust from your lustering lust for of... of me... but love me not, to, to desire me not to let me know of you on your graving alter-bed. Just justified with vomitus salt and peppered words to halt me with cock cocked in hand- not of within yours... every time... every time... every time folasiding to never cume... again...
Desire me... desire me not... desire me... prove it.
Proof is in the bedding, of the... bedding....
-II-
Illusions... delusions... or just of the justifications displacement of mirroring distorting distorted to distort the mask fogging flugging to mute me of what the true diseased teeth bare- in fear of photos exposed to, to in petrify petrified face... needed for glazed glossed-over print- filtered... cracked filter- filtered away to file away into the thirteenth file- sixty-eighted into compost heaps to grow into weeds choking love away, worming away in into pits of Apple cores to never seed Eden's gardening tree... though to rot through worming in cave-in’s of seedless love’s desiring of... desiring for of... rot... not to rot... rot...
Manna’s rot...
Rotting away...
Rotten, to rotting apple’s to feed, only to feed the inner cradling child, cradling away in into the drunkin with, with in of the within of shadowy corner’s quivering for love... caged as untamibable wolves snarling with dripping salivatic unraveling nerves at the self doubting snare of womanly keying eyes to hold with hold the key behind the key of to unlock approval... holds in enslavement within her of shared jailing barbed-wired to touch, cage...
Worden for of love- crumbly erodes away with her key- tensionly teasing away the key in altamatomes of loss to lose if it not to fall in line, into the reigning rain in gutters, with raining unconditional love...love washed, washing away in shower drain’s... love...to the gas chamber’s... love... lover’s key...? key for love... unconditional love of a lover’s key...?
Love...?
Entrapment into enslavement, love’s staring snare to of diseased latching onto displacement... displacement of self’s mask smoking in ungraviling unraveling watery smiring of fogged over dillusioned distortions mirroring of blind folding’s to justice’s eye’s of to mask the delusional illusions of reality’s eyes for another’s filtering mis-filtering eye’s of reality... antidote for this disease of love to love to be loved. To an antidote to this, for this of this lover’s reality...
Chained to... chained to of what love’s, reality is... of what is reality’s love... with in love...
Stoically soup-boxed staringly stances of standing dance of justifiable tempest’s of ultimatums – whirling me me into shackling submissions of chaining emitions to change my chain’s... for hers... feet cemented in drowning seas of templed ashramic Vedic canonistic psalming stones- throwing stones with rapturistic revelation’s spinning around her gaveling finger with key to get out, the door...if not climbing up the crusifixanial flag pole, if not to follow the doctrinal ways of ultimatum’s of the nightingale’s song- to ascend into fear to burn away Icoris’s glue to her heart’s winged strings...to not, allowed not, to stand up for, up in footing’s grounding’s for self away from the, this cemented cementing drowning in sea... drowning with threat of her driving away with love into the dawning dusk of night’s betrayal to derail... of love’s sail...
Love... in the terms of ultimational love’s terming...
Turning the key to love...
Key’s love...
Key to love
Love the key for me... of for love..
Scrambling Eggs with a Cracked Mirror
Chained in wanted as unwanted and desired against for the projected scoldering smoldering hail crashing upon fumbling houses of fained comfort of a nuclear family in misguided bliss of of blissful voids scraping claws for an ounce of gold on the scales to weigh the price of love through gold’s dust- testing away with a feather duster- scratching away the scabs to of masquerading mass of families, my delusions of mirrored masked chains- lost in the comfort of lostness of Lovelessness of cowering pain... more of the real of reality to finding through the veiled delusion’s distortions of fogging swirling with steaming clouds to love of love, then the true love of unconditional love with,, within a lovers veiningly waving a blanketing love’s, comfort of arms intertwining with mine’s souls arms...
judgment of chains- caught in quenching skips of CDs stuck in a stereo, around cords dining room table- degradingly the families sub-earthly Trinity for love, of love-calling we scrambling eggs rip in caverned rocks grounds, for equilibrium between unguiling appearance trying to pedestal themselves and condemned their send to be chained to rolling rocks to roll down the mountains drowning valleys of her image- to carry again again again again again re-again again re-again again up there families mountains foresting corpses of karmatic gestations to feed on the dead flesh of fish, fishing for love- loves affirmations of from the phantoms of shadows vision's of to what love is, is to share... though waiting in the court of contradictory actions with masked oppositions of double tongued subtextes of actions to words-never feeling love behind neither in the underworld of be either of where the families hearth should be blazing... not even a spark felt- to ignite rekindle, if ever there was any coal but a petrified stone a wood- with the bonds of love- replaced by chains of disdain muddy-ing pools of quick sands of mistrust of void’s voided love- shattering glass glassed in filthy immalleable immobile streaming fog on unanimated hearts pulsating to revive the families hearth’s heart- clashing to crack, shatter... instead... screaming echoes in echoeless celled chambers of home- to be heard- to hear the sweet sounding nectar of loves manna... To mirror- ...- to mirror all we be shatter with needing of for love- with hammering wrecking balled hands vice grippingly struggling squeezing for the last drop of life’s loves blood to nourish-only to evaporate before a taste from either- though neither of repenting shown, but of the, to the watery distorted colors of the painting within each others cracking in cobwebbed mirrors... cracking in of shattering fragmented shardes- sharded for mirroring reflected on reflecting of reflections of degrading desolation's of deserts wind’s storms corroding in erosions... in the face of, massacring masquerading mask’s of love... for the screamingly strangling need for love... to train dry down the kitchen sink for love... to taste only the sewage of the scrambled, scrambling of eggs sewage of an unloved unloved unlovable loves void... mirroring with each scrambled eggs burning in the seething smothering scolding kris of within each resting to be rusted out-blackened with take on unable to scrape the priests off a frying pan’s... heart...
Wondering for the Sacred Heart of my ladies bridling, heart
lost in, on highways to ashramed temples housing the home of the only place ever to feel of a home to me... kicked out to wonder to Greyhound bus stops, wasting time away at corner cafés, sipping cooling Arosta coffee of melting away ice with hymns to show teeth aruminating through unseen speakers from my lady... to Warner further in wondering in if of... in wondering the labyrinths of highways to freeways trying to find freedom from shadowing in caged incarnations of pulled, being pulled away from... to towards... and away from any true destination of for the beginning siren's song to my beloved’s hearts danced clogged beats shaking entwining for entangled in vines, grapevines of pulsating rhythmical arms of a warming lover’s embrace to find my final home... cigarettes lit, smote with sipping bitter coffee of what I can afford within the budget of becoming beyond broke once more...
wondering around clickings of the white rabbits clocking pocketwatch to where or when...? If even upon, off to be on again the writer roads to streets to Ghenish’s Indian’s kitchen next to the kids of keys thrown together for a night of karaoke bar-ed stagings... if, even of if, of the if-I dead end to a dead end...?... ordure clues of, in, within the rabbit’s hole scaring light-to off shadows dancing the parade to the lute of Pan, to the Pied Piper of- to-always from the light...? Or sanctuaries Eden... soul’s shadows orally seen dance around the light half melted away to corner down- twenty-five cents to dime... dime store’s to thrift shops, with only a few bucks to be named...
where to be led to...? Or to be stuck in a dead end-to die way back into force in looking, away from to wonder through, still wondering the lost streets of alleyways within and upon the cemented asphalt of a cemeteries yet to be blessed with seeds for the coals tonight within the sparkling starring rain of the Phoenix’s eye...
to Kelso from Santa Cruz, Cruze the wave of the bus the Long View of to LA- ...- lost all home of a totalled Subaru’s Legacy of to homelessness- wondering of off of around within wondering on the existintal highway to, of... of when... to find the keys. Key to the rock barring cage to where, of when my to where, of when my home will be within my ladies bridled brides heart...
to freedom of, or freedom from this mass enslavement of the sends of shadows play as nymph’s of fairies to mislead- turned off watchtowers light in the fog to shore- crash abandoned to unwavering in crashed upon the Craig of hidden razor rocks... the flicking of the bic, delight my next cigarettes lead me to my prop her home within my dancing divas of the ladies scared- the Sacred Heart...
Escaping from the Striping Strings
Escaping from the jailed self to further highways down within the labyrinths of asphalt trail into delusions of illusions within the light of truth hiss-by forked tongued serpents pushing paneled buttons of further mis-wire in the DNA-ed wiring of genetic encoded bio-machines. Controlling to chain-keep chained in incarnations of self’s soul- away from by, mind me to disconnect before, as expansions of- two enlightenment of-of growth into of be the full embodiment of self, true self- beyond end of this world...
Miss-connections to mis-associations to crumble bridges, cause glistening in iron’s glass sparkling cage to slice shatter away balancing stability within self’s soul’s mind if heart of, to the world within-within the world around... existential shattering of mirrors silvery glass to the Sun’s moon, moon’s s- reflections of perceptual assessment distorted in the illusion of what ever subjective to objective reality the lens is seen within- through...
Subaru’s Legacy’s engine crashed beyond the spark in of pray for divine spark, the turning key... key obsolete to free the incarceration of my soul within this enslavement of free willed control over, of self within the heart though only scratching the surface, though in great depths within the directionless magnetless, though radically spinning in multiple a multiple directions of left to right, right to left- stop north on South- to read the rearing of North- within, somewhere within the depths of the insanities darkness with the rabbit hole... so far from, to find the light of where the door is a... nor... the light is to find the train tracks to spark a spark of divine light... out, to the other side-away to to door’s exit out... shadowed in darkness without walls- calosterphe of being barred in with unseen jailed walls in all directions-though none seen... all seem to be dead end labyrinth trails- to only feed to further and is of the on unrisen dead within the souls seen around me on the streets of Oakland to highway on bused isolated souls from a warming hand- arms hugged in of for comforting connections to awaken the zombified state of self to ourselves- ourselves with of the world- ourselves within us... the Long Viewed of Kelso...
from applied away from- a home to only home ever known- to my home of an unhomed welcome and of contradictory schizophrenic turn of love to hate- unwanted to playing the mast image of being loved and wanted... to love be sent radiated to the eyes of birthparents- if it ever really had... and a quarter turn a spinning in illuminating crushing swirling of embalancing winds to seas water crashing into rocked shores of roads, blankets ripping away from comforting of loves blissful stabilized souls state of being within the turn of the within of the splitting of fortunes tails of the dimes for told of feigned façadeedness of love for love... or... or if it's really of true love... though truly never felt as, of, as of love-both conflicting to through manipulations of through the distorted mast heart of what love should be, of what is within the unhomed to crumbling house of to lose eyes sight of the grounded in rocks home within...
tears purifying rain, pushed through flood gauges of damned ups scoldings of a beaten down dog of a child- never to live with them the tells heart of freedoms joy of being the child away from the caged fogged in blurring water colored water falls of graying cloudy days painting of fragmented jagged to of jagged fragments of memories lost to within the void of aimlessness of life of all life lived...
chained within the void of suppressing down of oppressing of repressing of to from suppressing unseen Bard of bricks of cloaks of veiled in suffocating blankets blanketing darkness- chained to, in corners with nothing to further lose but a further slipping away of rains water falls cascading grounding ledges of sanity...
sanity's stabilities left in the liberty’s scaling balance- Ginger shadows within and that surrounds blindness of blindness of with the liberties hissing mischievous snake smile of “Liberty”s justice”of to in cage in to further engagement of enslavement around the tongued forked whispering of liberties freedom with in the cells chains rattling from the vibrations of whispering words of the membranes stripping puppets strings...
Balancing Between Mind’s Duality of, of within Bungee cords of Lover’s..
p.1
Polpery filled cups, broken pieces floating, cutting hands in the wash between lovers. Cross flow mangling in time, mish mashing in marshy car lights. Cables braking when tongues lash out with silent tension. Barricades of manneristic ettequiting masks fight holding back fright to the new dimension.
Bungee cords pull forward, springing fast fusion in the twilight hour.
p.2
Bungee cords duel, energetic fusion, clashes without a latch. Thoughts barricaded, hang in suspended light shines falsified reactions: hung by the tough, no life in comprehension. Hearing is lost in the void of horizontal connections... with the mind.
p.3
Popery filed cups, floating in pieces. Sharding lovers hands in a liquefied entanglement. Trampling arias called, crashing forced entices opportunities to grasp on to the true nature of her. Thoughts lost in a clogged filter, lost forever in a drain, swimming in sewage that could have been spiritual embracement.
Reactionless
torn out nerves, dilapidation of ambitious anger. Reactions suppressed by black holes of thought. Glimpses of intellect lost in mid word. Running pulsating braking away from connections of the the self. Swimming drowning in rushing rivers, swallowed up by whirl pools; at the bottom of the murky bed, muffled from sound, a rock chains me mentally to the ground.
Brake Down,
the Directions of Thought
Inhabitation causes casualties of decapitated objects. Eyes reach out to think for themselves. Brimstone balls cause undaunted barriers. Dead end alleyways, barricading cop cars behind. Flat line labyrinths; wishing for the flight from gods angels. Bullet-proof sound absorbing glass dumpsters, incarnates from escape. Man holes are left unspared, no cable to climb, a fraid rope... either turn in or crumble.
How Odd
Dogs cats
nothing very short
A tall can is placed
in the heart of
many
money plays the
toll of a harpsichord
with fish cats dance
around in a polka style
every once in a while
time stops playing
rhymes
That eventually ends
up meaningless
to the philosopher
of lime soda
but all and all
nine is there
in the cats eye
then why I ask
is 7 so unlucky
while 11 is,
even though they're
both odd
How Odd
anyway smoking dimes
could be fun
but why are cloves so
clever hiding
from the dark
and everything
plays reactions
from the action
of everything
and still nothing is
done about the
cigarette that
when one inhales
caffeine instead of nicotine
How Odd
How very Odd
How very very Odd
How very very very warily Odd
it is
and still we sleep under
willows
weeping over time gone by
Who’s World, Seen through?
Madness of smearing realities, what is felt a real, also seams unreal. Two points of detailed perception, which is truth, which is slipping losing hold into another reality. Though what I’ve seen from my own eyes. Two world’s flurishing with meaning, thriving with life… but to who’s world I’m seeing through… Life experience or issue… objective, subjective… can’t tell where the bases is, where what is triggered is, only some means of distortion is there… feeling a different presence to the cognation, the highlighting screaming graspable details, leading to meaning, the meaning seams should be there. Lapsed away into just the knowing… Something else something else should be there. Is it perception’s perception, conscious through unknown of consciousness… no other indicator except for what is just is…
The losing of unknowing but knowing, where minds connection is, through inward hearts insight… falling into how I perceive you perceiving what I’m seeing now, only swallowed up by blindness, something else should be there… see it in my mind, experience in what is seen, what is there isn’t there in what is there…
Why isn’t there…?
When it seams it should be, be there
All That He Wants
or
The Prisoner of the Drive
The world revolves
around S.E.X
Not Money
Not Religion
But sex
-II-
The cigarette burns
How phallic
The man puts
it in his mouth and
Sucks
Felling sick
for everything
he desires
-II-
he wants
he desires
he must have
that luscious
peach in
his mouth
to quench his
thirst
-II-
Like a vampire
during a feeding
the moans and groans
of the drink
the rhythmic motions
that fulfills
all desires
-II-
the sucking
of sexual
Juices
that trickle
down the
Soft skin
-II-
a reservoir of blood
fills up
though numb
-II-
the act is over
but hungers for
more
-II-
she sits there
he sits beside
her
holding each other
with vigeration
but not a touch
except
the long connection
with their eyes
-II-
Blood courses in his
veins
new blood
a vengeance that must
be concurred
-II-
Two pots of coffee
haunt him
like the longing
of that soft
skin
Rubbings and
-gratifying
but sickening
-II-
Trembling nerves
of steel
harden at the anticipation
of one moment
with a one night
willing victim
of one mans desires
-II-
a man sees
her
The man doesn't
know her
but
needs her for
the night
-II-
Rubbing dry skin
against
wet skin
is what controls
him
-II-
he is a prisoner
and wants
to escape
from his cell
of
Solitude
-II-
he doesn't want
to be a zombie
anymore
Gypsies
Virginal wine
gypsies dance divinely
in the moonlight
dewed air
Take a sip
of a new life
in death
Dance around the
sacrificial coffin
The Banshee screams
the song of
orgasmic chills
of enlightenment
Black Orchids
piercing
Stygmata'd hands
held and whorled
around
like crucifix's
As the gypsies dance
the ritual to call forth
The goddess of death
Around
Around
Around they go
feeling her essence
scraping their souls
shadows engulf
their limp waving
bodies
as they fall to the silvery slim
in silence
only the coffin stands
a flame
Pathless
desolate prisonic deserts, blowing needles under the stability of reality, injecting hallucinations of sanctuary. Endless corridors random passageways that disconnect from the center. Jailers drive away down blinking lighted streets causing epileptic Sesser’s in blizzardous fields, losing footing from covered up trains; no point of departure to look back upon.
Mask
Mask shatters the image of me
Dripping, blurred, warped and decreped of disgust
Darkness without definable abstractions
Who is this person that cages me to me
Haunting the depths of my soul
Leaving me a void within a void inside
Chained and lost in a day that is always night
Clawing out of a mirrored face that doesn’t resemble me
Mask shatters the image of me
No windows, no mirrors to per into my soul
Lost in an image without a shadow
An image without a reflection, of the man I am
Replacing me, a stranger
A stranger stares back at me, through me
Crippling me inside of me
Shattering any hope to be me, again
Mask shatters the image of me
Boarded away from, barried away from, the outside world
Human connection, lost to disconnection
The outside, as empty as the inside
Trapped, paralyzed behind an unpenetratible barricade
Fearing nothing outside will brake in
Paralyzed soul grasping, gasping for a breath
Another’s breathe to revitalize me
... Of Distance
Oh, how I love her
she is so special to me
how I wish she could be right here
beside me
She is as mysterious as a flame
as beautiful as a summers night walk
as colorful as a rose
The times we share
are few
but meaningful
I feel so much love radiating from her
will we spend eternity together?
I pray, so
A day doesn't go by without
a thought of her
To hold each other
is the most meaningful and beautiful things
we have shared
though our talks most excellent
and our kisses sweet
when we hold each other
as we do and fall asleep
is an extreme expression of
true love
Realization
The clown once
lied in his coffin
He met his muse
that brought him
back from his long term
emotionless state
He trusted his muse
nothing but
lies spewed from
her music
The clown rises
from his slumber
of his coffin
The love for his dove
grows to an ultimate
high that grows more
every day
just because
"I dared to care"
for that muse.
A Moment in 2 Nights
Mirror like
glimpses of a
realistic plain
Take thy paper
of the mind
that is burning
in thy joined hands
Communion longed
to be taken
but the right
is not commanded
or taken for a whim
of ones desires
lazily lay in the drooping
sun burnt wheat fields
of the mid-day
Tears swirl up circling
the desert tree-knot
collapsing to fine
grain of withering
salt (water)
salmonellain filled sky
plunged to the earth
burns its mark of
bialling gray
An Angelic kiss
from an Angle
Stolen Love
E-mail thievery of my soul, crucified, questioning validity of love. Devils horned tongue twisting waves around in unknown chains of certainty.
Hate turns from love. Disgust turns from passions desire.
I, the damned, wonder aimlessly through fogged confussioned waves walking down a desolate desert of icy, where life won’t life… down the labyrinth of streets. Street lights flicker hopelessness.
When did mountains erode into craters. When did gods turn into demons. When did loves manna turn into a smile of justified weeds.
Dust devils and tumble weeds, blown around with love, with loves desire. Crimson rose wilt in, from sun ray’s… of being loved… never dying love… still remains.
Stolen away from lust spoken words into a phone of a poem of a manly, spoken as love, objectifying desires.
Angles within myself cry, cry blizzarding snow of turned away from true lovers bleeding for souls eternity of entwined embrace.
When did the holocaust of love turn her to him away from me?
In a concentration camp in a confused state of stasis, stoned in, by lies, thrown dissipating impedance from tainted comfort of unmovable boulders of decision so the right stabilizing path without concern, without my heart in hers.
Taking flight with the key to my heart with hers, leaving me, exchanging it with his, leaving me jailed in seas of love never to bath her soul, though longing to… never again.
Comedy & Tragedy
The clown with his face of light blue
Lies in a mass of blood
on the stage before his audience
His peers laugh at the sight of his gothic nature
No freedom of life
Must do
Must do -
to be what is accepted
The coffin is rolled in
dancing flames consume his life
that was destroyed by his environment
The clown with a painted frown
danced his life the way the world wanted
He drunk from the same cup of communism
and died with fear in his eyes to due the
Wright thing
To be excepted by the world
The clown wore black
to hide the battling dots
that most clowns of his kind wear
He wished to be one with himself
but lost to conformity of his world
If I die
I want to die a putrid death
One that showed
I sold out!
The Walk
Down the road
we walked for miles
talking about
life and goals
soon we came upon a forest of flowers,
This is where I saw how a flower
could be so beautiful and mysterious,
just like a person
Foolish Stars
In the shadows of stars, glimmering phantoms of your seductive soul, I see, rhythmic sensual syllables rushing from your thirsted for milky-way dyed lips. Falling star sounds enrapture two, in the dark, apprehension plays the fool. I long to be with you, in lucid swaying dreams, dancing in the shadows of stars.
Aerie Perspective
Purity walks throw the door
Nails of pristine polish to pick
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