Sunday, November 28, 2010

World, Meet Her

World, meet Her.

Meet wisdom,
Meet understanding,
Meet strength,
Meet endurance,
Meet struggle.

Meet the one person whom will not drop you.
Meet a learned decision maker.
Meet tears.
Meet the weeping of a senseless string of garbled transmission in hope.
Meet the find in this universe.
Meet a soul stained with white.
Meet an illusion of fear.
Meet an overcomer.

Meet my help.
Meet truth when is doesn't exist.
Meet the Lover of my greatest gifts.

Meet a kiss that is forever meant.
Meet a new born's lips and breath.
Meet the nightmare's good dream.

Please, my friends, please...

Meet my one Lover.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

My Always Thought

Everytime she sways her thought I think of the rocky passages that litter my flight path into her soul...

The birds with wings that never grew. Meant to carry her SOS to help that never came. Being the entity in her dreams that always heard them, but could never come to her aid...until now.

I am not pretender. I am flying toward you. Arms with no feathers open wide. Shooting through the turbulence and dichotomy of awkward feelings and tattered memories. Like a blue streak with golden trails. I'm flying straight to your hearts soul... To rescue from shadows that wont let go. The scars on my hand, their fear. But You, My not fear these hands. They are attached to the arms that hold you. Which are attached to the chest that parks you...

Which is fed by the heart that beats your blood and keeps me flying. That can never have too little space...for you, my most Love. To the end of all things...

I desperately, Love you.

(written: 9/26/10)

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Choosing my path

While you sleep, I dream of you.
But not in the night as romantics often pace their thought to draw out inspiration.
In their sad lyric...

I want to be over. I need to be over.

When the night shines, we lie awake and seek to do better, to be better.
And our thought as thick as a warm fog blanket becomes the spice of our life and Love.

Were it to be breathless, I long for less breath.
Or the night's light to burn out.

I want to drink the kerosene and swallow the wick to carry our moments of stillness and fearful distrust into the cave of our despair. To be lit again on the other side of this mountain, disregarding my life.

To struggle again in heaven's hell,

our staycation for taking the scenic ways.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

You, Love, Life, the Sunshine and the Moon


I know every pore that strains when you laugh, but more so when you cry. Because I've walked these roads you've traveled. Stopped to feel the desert sand in my hand. Rolling it up and blowing it away as if it could somehow dissipate the pain as well. Same slightly ahead. Same slightly behind. And I feel you everywhere. Both have now experienced the same pain.

Funny? That we've walked these places? Of ALL the comfort spots in our great city...hmph (we know it means something, for now, denial seems better). No doubt drawn by each others presence. As if by cosmic reason, emotional need, we were able to still satisfy the need for comfort. To be understood by each others Sun print or Moon print. Until time removed the blinders, revealing our true source for each other...each other.
Refashioned Love songs and tones I'm sure reverberated in your head. These thoughts are meant to be. This is not a mistake. Nor a cosmic joke.

But facts, universal facts.

" They" are all pretenders.
I've had them around for so many years.
And the fear that surrounds is the click of a seat belt in passenger side.
To ride the rest of this life as JUST that.
To be subject to drivers twists, turns, anxiety, road temperament, judgement...lack.
This doesn't mean " they" are bad people. " They're" surely not, God forbid.

But there is a glove for every hand and like OJ, if one can...try and make it fit. Visual evidence is not based in belief. " OJ" always was a perfect fit, no matter how dirty it got.
No need to go to Rag's and find another. Unless you believe you're a soul seamstress and can make anything fit! Haha!
If that is true? Student reaches higher heights than teacher, as you've so called me. But remember, I've always ever said it's not me that "taught". Just a wiring diagram I showed you. Happened to be the map of your soul's layout. And my SPS is always dead point! HA!

So really? Who's the teacher then? Not a question for answering. Just another thing on that hot plate of pondering. God, I miss and Love the warmth of that stove! And when we added our pasta thought bubbles, seeing the steam overflow of conversation. Bleeding its way out from the cover, down the sides of the pot and onto our heating element to be evaporated.

I've never had the thought in my head that you talk too much. I've never kept the thought in my head that you're just too much. I drown myself in every word you think to say but leave behind in freckled eyes and beautiful crooked smile, while biting your lip. Even without that, you give you away. Or it's just that I know what you're thinking as you have each thought. And yet...

Still feel such a depth to your soul. Deep waters even my free-diving experience cannot allow me to reach. No wonder that he can't hold you. I don't think I fully could either. But I know by instinct what to do when time comes, and understand why.
But if given the option, just for this sake. I'd ask to go back to where time began and start my search from there with Adam. Looking for the depth of your soul. Maybe by the time we reach each other I'll be somewhere near the depth I can now reach. Only time will tell, and I'm frustrated with her damn secrets ;).

And my soul says, " that look in your eye...reminded me TWICE that I was alive. And it reminded me that you're so worth the fight."
I'd wait for thrice, and so on...and die again and again to be reminded of twice. And I'd fight for the worth that you know not of.

You are infinitely interesting...

(written: 8/1/10)

Saturday, July 31, 2010


Colors of trustworthy optimism run around before like painted bees inside the cone of a hive. All just waiting to be called.
They have been called, only one was chosen. Although those colors don't compliment the projected aura that loosely floats about.

She wasn't there, neither was he. I could see the sadness in her soul, a sight only visible to me, I'm sure. Knowing that she wouldn't weep until she was alone, I take a moment to cry for her in silence.

Her words roll off her tongue like erratic melody of the most beautiful song. So made mention in the silence that cotton tails come from their holes and squirrels from their trees to listen, hoping for a nut to fall...there were many (haha). But I gathered them up to make a necklace for her.

Someday I'll give it to her, but not today, definitely not tomorrow. Haven't found a suitable pendant yet. And she Loves pendants. I know this well.

Leaving the room. Been so good to not be noticed so far, knowing I just shouldn't be there. Amygdula so shot it's spinning sparks everywhere across the floor of my sub-conscious mind. Like a tree trunk pushing it's way into the center of my chest. But I tuned it out, to this. Her theme music today:

" Yellow streetlight, you illuminate the road so often traveled. In a dream life, I would silently observe your path to nowhere. And you're gonna light me up, in a way I could never explain.

Always letting go to leave you closer leaving. Doesn't mean that this is over. Don't forget about the things that make you feeeeeeel FREEEEE!

I would Love you Monday, thru to Sunday. If you're a non believer. Take me for an open-minded soldier, if you're a non believer.

Right here some...." (all so she doesn't get confused ;) ya know)

And on with that. Never ceasing, 'til my throat begins to bleed. Range is so a matter of perspective. To an exponent of some sort. And my perspective is getting high on my minds constant and ever flowing supply of serum that makes everything here taste good. And I can't find the petcock. Took it out when she left the first time and put it somewhere I knew I'd never find it.

You have fun, my Love. You know I'd be the only other one not drunk, cleaning 1/2 the mess at least. Sharing always. Care about you that much...always!

Til our next meeting. Arms open, facing the sound of that band of horses.

Friday, July 30, 2010

Solace, Safety, "Home"

Only let go once, wow. Not even to make mention of ****. Awestruck at the gracious sky's who allowed us a chance at the one thing that could shake mountains of hate, we weren't ready.

" I am here. I'm all around you. You feel this at your darkest times. The times when you feel alone, which is almost always. And my heart breaks for you."

Temped guest walks in a half circle towards you from the far corner of the room, he is a familiar presence.

" I am here. And in the mind of your mind I fight behind your eyes the terror that haunts your dreams. Staying purposefully out of sight, so the magic stays where it should. An essence of presence."

Dark visage guest steps closer as you stay still, in your full flowing, night lit'ness.

" I am here. Listen to me, Love. The shadows that I cast while passing from sun to sun, from moon to moon. See they fall at you. As if I was stuck in an ancient time piece, pointing its way at you for eternity. Like you were always my "home"."

Stepping closer, only this time, your breath slows, feeling a familiar longing. A good presence that's been missed.

This time a whisper, " I am here. You don't have to be afraid of me. I am not here to hold you. As this Love and yours has looked over the suffering, and held tightly still. Nothing is too deep for us to plunge. Nor too long to swim.

(written: 7/30/10)

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Wisdom from the moon

The Moon broke out for several hours. And I ventured out for every one of them. He stared me in the eyes and with squinted gaze he dared me to fly and capture some of his dust, seein if I could catch him. I looked away for seconds. Climbed to the top of the tallest point I could find around me and looked up, this time much closer to his face. Then I dared him to come down a little closer so I could kiss his chin. He told me no. Said, " My place is the sky, my home is the oblivion and I carry no such attachments to earth's creatures."

I responded, " Is that why you are so sad?"

He said, " The creatures therein of this planet I roam are not the attachment I seek. It is the earth that I Love, and nothing more could lay a planet waining so weak."

I asked, " Why? Could I learn a lesson of this Love that you speak? For I Love the earth as well, as if some spell has bound me to the ground."

" My dearest son...I have watched you. In my nights light you move. But I've also seen your dreams and tears, as well as the way you groove. I have watched since birth to see this man arise from a pile of mesh. And cavities and nightmarish realities you have entered in yours and others mess. My son, it's not really the earth you Love. But the creatures within for their life force depends on such. This isn't a virtue or physical essence that can be explained between logic and dust. But a reality, not a feeling, a destiny, a timed plan. Since the time a hand reached from heaven to link the heart of God to man."

" Is the entity you speak of something all can see and know?"

He said, " No son, look at the tree as it begins to grow. It doesn't move. Doesn't ask or demand. Even when it has great lack. Doesn't flinch when your creatures come at her with an axe. But it's the roots I speak of that do the deeper work. See the branches and the trees get to see the light above. And celebrate the life and doves that make their homes in their healthy arms. But where they gather life force you see is from the earth. And their roots MUST plunge down into something aged and of worth. And this is the truth of it, my son. When life gets old and all gets undone. Where would the sun be without the earth? And where would the earth be without the moon? We travel in orbit. Whom is travelling with you?"
" My son, take this, and hold it, because your connection is with earth. But in a different sense of what is temporary, the lifeline of man. Imagine MY heart, I spoke of waining before...carrying such emotion through the years. Not coming out when there were those who begged me to, but they had you. Or some form of you."
"So take this, my son. I am in Love with the earth. You are in Love, and that's all that needs worth. But make sure to base it on deep roots, and your heart exactly knows whom it is who is with you to share your ebbs and flows."
" And, my son, I leave you with this thought: It's hard to Love inanimate objects, that have not the ability to Love. As the earth is with me, don't let it be with you. For so many there know how to and choose not to. And their time is of your essence. Hold onto that Love, it will more than prove the test and time. Watch me, son, and you'll see. For I have watched every last part of Love on earth...and have yet to speak to one of these. But to you I give my secret, and please don't put away..."

" Oh, I wont, sir! I swear I wont!"

" My son, just wait. And you'll see a light that blinds you and all others that surround. That brings such Love and unity from the deepest earth's core found. And life will simply emanate to all those that surround your heart and Love's heart connected, could bring ALL EARTH'S WALLS DOWN!! Commit to be the crutch and soon'll wear Love's crown."

" I Love you, son."

And he leaned back, into the sky above. I reached for my heart and knelt to the ground. Clutching heart in hand and hand over and over as the tears...fell...down. In the reflection, I saw you, YOU...and all confoundment did abound. From a back so sore of carrying all these others weights around.

I need you and want you and will not move away. And I say what you cannot right now. WE ARE CONNECTED, and to that truth, I humbly bow...

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Not what it is

Not asking for wine. Not asking for mind boggling treasures of gifts in return. Receipt included or not, I don't give a shit. This is the truth, please believe me this time around. Love...with you.

No hidden phrases. No mentioning of a joke way back when.
When kids tied hands behind their backs to make obscene noises on your thighs.
And not a question of higher learning tryin to define the answer to why.
Because why is the way we live! Don't you understand! Don't you get this simplicity and yet...
We continue to walk, over these bridges, over these brooks.
Thinking of new things to say, like we're reading a book.
And that book sometimes ain't enough, you know this is SO true. And if I'm right about your color then I'd say it's all blue.
But why? Can't even that fly, sitting on that window perceive;
That new life beckons and calls us out, you and me.
To be trusted with things not yet unveiled to man. And to test whether said Love can weather such demands.
Without choice! Without hate! Without wild debate. Over demons and Angels and Love songs we bait.
With our hooks and our kettles that Angels swing by to nibble and kiss and sing lullaby's.

But only to our children, and only those we love. (You know that caps word I only use to describe what it feels like to be your only glove).
So do we bolt? Do we linger? Do we stay in this "place"?
What on earth would that do, except maybe save face.
Face is so not even what I'd like to save but a heart in his heart I would gladly put away.

Want my heart in his body? If you would just ask, I'd not fucking wait by to relieve such a task.

Sincerely, your happiness is all there is, Love. It's all there will be, most Love'd. It's all there was meant to be.

And I will continue my rant on more blessed ears. You know this, her neighbors think we're fucking because I'm constantly knockin on her door late at night. They would call her a whore but I always come alone, and not too many visit her and know her like I do. Proud to know she knows me as well. Her name is Patience, my Love. And she is your ally and closest link to what calls all things heavenly inside of storm shadows wink. And under sun setting sky in the afternoons I cry to see it glisten and sparkle off the stardust that made its way back across the wall to jewel your precious face.

As I said. I don't ask for anything not in your power to give. Quite in fact I ask nothing of you but to live.
Please just live to see your days brighter, if you think you can change taste because really, that's what's required in this maddening Love race.
But you know how I am.
You know what I am.
You know WHOM, I am.
And this promise do NOT disavow. The promise of bliss and happiness unequally shared, sounds like unequal pair. But I AM your equal. And I'll prove it with this. If said time comes around and neither one of us are dead, you will prove your Love, with your "head" outside of dread...with a kiss.
For I will NOT advance until your foot steps into that boundary of "what if" that blinds the shit out of us.

And here I will wait, wanting you to be free. Not a free that's with me but a choosing of your own reckoning.
I do not ask for your hand as if it's freely given. Or pretend there's no amends or life oaths to be taken.
But nonetheless I'm serious. Serious like poison in the hands of a 3 year old. But grown enough to handle whatever unfolds.

I'm not leaving, not taking off, not even sayin goodbye. Not ever...not ever, my Love.

And there are no other words right now.

(written: 1/27/10)

Tuesday, July 27, 2010


Driving up the 5, empty. Taking you with me.
Pine-scented moon covers up the horror of the scent of night spent "alone", 342 so far.
Finds me listing. Like a large boat with not enough sails to capture the wind propelling it.
YOU propel me, with candles light.
Sends me whining into bright lights and familiar sights and starlight.
And a memory, in infantile manner that presents itself, "I was here once, Lover...and I NEVER left you."
See the proof?

Listening over and over to her Love spoken over invisible wire connection.
There is NO antenna that can give this reception.
There is no hard wire that can carry information to define.
That language passed away with the death of the 1st man to create lyric.
Reverberating and bouncing. Running through time to accent the background of our 2nd, first kiss.

The other night I drove miles and miles 'til I found a lonely patch of sky, not connecting with earth at her'eyes'on.
Beckoning the aching heart to sit and chat.
We sat and named each other for hours. I named them all after you so I could look up and see you no matter where I am.
They sent me their hugs and kissance but the distance seems so far and light only travels so fast so I sent them a letter.

The letter that proceeds God's breath as He breathed on an ocean of black.
The letter that causes a reaction, no matter where It's been cast.
The letter that causes human to human care, formless and attached.
The letter that brings the poison inside logical insight to act.
The letter you and I utter and stutter, directly.

Bring me.

A shoulder? Sure...
A backboard? Ok...
A diving board? Hmm, maybe...
A confidant? Have to check the roster...
Just to be "here"..."now"? The least of what I have to give, but you know this...

And here I am. Patience, the only light under night sky. It's ok because she knows me.
"...hey Patty, long time, much seen. Give me a damn cigarette, will ya?? SHIT..."

Saturday, July 24, 2010

For My litte Lovely Love, someday...

She is the dishes in the sink that I am compelled to wash.
She is the stain my white shirts in the same damn place, every time, above my heart.
She is the center of the swirl when I stir my tea.
She is the Love rock that breaks windows that I throw in agony.
She is the calming newborn cry that awakens me to pure life...

She is that one star between the mist clearing when I have no idea where I am.
She is the wind before the rain telling me to go outside and wait.
She is the thunder after the lightening, echoing it's great plight and crash to earth.
She is the light left over in innocent hands awakened by nightmares birth.
She is the smooth stone I course my hands over and over, because I love the way it feels...

She is the last goodbye to years of stained hands and hard labor.
She is the heat behind the candle, that beckons my fingers to pass through.
She is the channel beneath an ancient bridge that has watched life come to earth.
She is the sound of distant waves, crashing against distant cliffs.
She is the last thought of any man, saying to himself " What if?"

She is the warm and fettered blanket with many stories to tell.
She is the one well-spoken secret, now I love to shout and yell.
She is the reason for all things benign to rise and be counted.
She is the season for all things to rhyme and leave colleagues astounded.
She is the life and Love's cry...

She is the cause behind each Lover's tale and endless ageless delight.
She is the course that hikers know as the steepest challenge and greatest plight.
She is the knowing of a mothers heart when daughter brings to light,
these well-grown flowers near blossom; when bees are tempted to take a bite.
She is the wall shattering embrace between blamed father and estranged son.

She is the knowing of a passing of each and every creation.
She makes hate cry with her stare and start its pre-posthumous journey
To seek out those it has destroyed and left baron from the beginning.
When man saw Love in the form of another human being.
She is the water, moving its way across the filth, making me look new.

She is the string around my finger, reminding me to Love.

(TBC, my honey girl. My sweet, sweet precious, little Love, for I will certainly NEVER stop adding to this song)

Thursday, July 22, 2010


Something present.

Not an oracle, not a sign but definitely orchestrated by higher'ness.

A groan over a year's separation. Pain that epidurals cannot block.
Only the rebirth of something...true.

True as in the promise of another sunrise. Or a Loving mothers milk to an infant in need.
Whether hers or not, the need will be met.

And I float somewhere between heaven and the hell of earth, no longer wondering if she's real.
She knocked at my door, " Babe, it's time to go!"

I gather my pretty socks and hi-top converse, transverse the cold cement of hater's outer exterior. Let them be I say, and I will Love anyways.

We drive. Faster than the light forcing it's way out of the heart now rebuilt and attached.
With glances at the past but no remorse lingers over the forgiveness. A price to be paid for an undertaking's unrelenting passion.

Our Love will light this path. Familiar because we've been here before! But it's nearly autumn. After the rain and heat have settled into the monotony of life's passages. Now we can see. And the path springs forth it's life essence from being fallowed. We know this time is coming, but let's not hasten.

Work to be done in the garden. Although beautiful the fall setting sun has made it, still green thumbs plunge into fresh tilled earth...and the scent of it! Fascinating...invigorating!!!

The bitterness of winter gone. Weathered, while wearing some other's skin. Thankful for the protection but no longer needed. For we have reached the definition of health. The understanding of two halves of a whole becoming one.

Letting go of the sinews that brought us away from unity.

She cries out! Screams in pain as I double over in sympathy, feeling the inside of the "O" in Love fall from inside me.

She pushes and I grasp her hand tightly, " I wont let go! ...i, wont, let, gooooo....." and to the whisper.

Wisp of cloud moves in, the pre-ignition of thunderstorms around this universe.

To protect and guard this new life. Arriving at the exact moment the earth begins to die.

We can save it now! We can live here now!

Let the light be our tavern. Let this Love be our home. Sprinkled with exacting precision of attentive heart.

The wailing of a newborns cry...taking this life's first breath...





Show me the door, and I will show you the meaning of why "Z" is not the final letter in our alphabet soup.

Stay here and spell words that only we can define.

But never with words...nevermore with speech. But herein with finger paint on pants Divine. Let's redefine. Show them a world where crust is always cut, and apples always peeled. To find a peace inside each other that everything surrounds and bounds to live, higher and higher.

Saturday, July 17, 2010


Laying next to his face. Tears already accumulate on the pillow falling sideways from fatherhood's experience, this time joy.
I can't even help but stare. Even dared by the prince of light himself to look away from such an Angel, I just couldn't...he has every part of my soul.
A flutter crosses his eyes and I hold my breath. A wisp of grin touches his perfect lips like wind cuts meadow lands...then a sigh.
What crossed his little mind in lucidity I'll never know. But I am content to know it made him smile in subconsciousness.
Every breath I take in as if a tree drowning for air. It's so pure, life.
You have shown me my path little one. You have saved this wretched soul from himself.
One day, I'll tell you the story of me. But right now, my world is paused as you sleep. Waiting to take in the next 1st thing you'll say.

Sweet dreams my sweet sweet boy. Your dadda Loves you. Your dadda's got you-

Monday, July 12, 2010

Kiss, kiss

Thinking about kissing her, deeply.
Pausing only to breathe through the sea of our reciprocal tears flowing down Love that stops life.
And captivates the nature surrounding the innocent garden where life was first born into.

Hands falling into the spaces between physical knowledge.
The pathways carrying our vital substances and energy reach toward and grasp hold of each other, intertwining into a mosaic of deeply seeded essence.
She sniffs, looks aside before engaging into where I end.
Reaches from the vertical entanglement to touch. My skin depresses before she ever gets close. A gentle reverberation emanates from the tips of her fingers like someone forgot to add humanity's de-static cling sheet to our salt-scented laundry pile.

We begin to ebb and flow. Feeling life force pass between us. Waining and exhilarating, eyes on each other for the giving. Never taking what we deserve from each other.
Everything melts around us...

Pushing our way through society's observation with our non-conformity. Still only focused on the thread tying our hands and wit behind our backs. The thread of space between spots in our eyes. A language only understood through hearts interpretation of the way a tongue dances inside our kiss. A secret time only holds but knows nothing of. A riddle outlasting Piper's lyric. Making Love fall in Love...


A date in Miami

A shadowing, deep presence locked inside sun spotted cancer cells just waiting to erupt.
My drugs keep me constantly on this titillating, wild ride.
Timid and descrete, they move through Wades rights to disinegrate the staff inside my soul.
Passively mocking the mad paintings that line the upside-down spiral staircase leading to my heart.
Illicitly irradicating islands icing illusive idiosyncratic idolatry inside eyes of a spade flipped sideways.

And my mind racks my reality with this statement:

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Not yet

Strong brew. Amber race in pillars of wet smoke beckoning the air above. The understanding behind 1000 lies of truth's wisdom. Which really, (side note), wasn't wisdom at all. Just the pondering of adult pubescent insight. You could call it virgin if you like, despite it's age. It is what it is and always will be...sadly.
In a run to further the commitment between man and bottle, fear and numbness. Lips strain toward another sip, and another, and yet another. Pouring rain, slipping down esophageal passages toward oblivion. Well, not so much, just transformation. Is that what he's after? To become something else? What depth of pain would need be experienced to truly abandon all original thought...action and idiosyncrasy. If she looked long enough. Just stepped outside the normal patience level that brought her into Love, she might see an opulence not fashioned by the hands of man. But by the artists of this existence. And he too, would be satisfied in his embrace...(cont?)

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

An Old Prayer

From the depths of sorrow in my own soul I asked You to answer me. I begged for something of You, did You answer me?
Was this You?
I laid myself out bare for all to see, for all to know that I'd bear their burdens. To feel their need and give them relief. From the heart inside me, was that You?
Or my flesh?
I still haven't heard You.
I still don't know what it is You want but I'll do what You have asked so many times. To Love 'til my dying breath.
And I will do it.
But I beg You sir, send me my Angel! Send her to me please! Only You know who she is. Only You know when she will come and how she will effect my life.
'Til then, I will Love.
My character and resolve to be "good" will fail many times, I know this.
But I will try.
I can't even say I'll do my best right now. But I'll do what I know best to do.
For all my life and longer!

(written: 12/30/09)

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


All this synergy. Energy moving, violating boundaries that should have never been laid. Across great oceans scream their movement, scream their praise and yet...

Connected we feel to one another. As if our Great Walls have been usurped by tiny culverts near the ground. Dug out by...

Love diggers. Those weasels! The pantomiming pitiful chaps. Sunk sweetly are their vampire teeth into wretched hearts worldwide to suck...

Dry this wet towel because it's only to be used for snapping at asses. A joke? A prank? Maybe. But yet undefined like...

A Spring daisy points it's way towards the sun in dashing white light. From under it the view of insects pushing their way through dirt to sample its...

Nectar! The fruits blood. Seeps its way out in the Summer's sweltering sweat. Thins the skin and levies the bountiful flesh therein lies...

A lazy cat. Adorned by the selfishness of her possessors. They spell every night what she might eat and wear as fur to further create a safe place for her latent offspring. So cute the purr, so blind the touch to everything wanting to harm said innocence is left unprotected like...

A condom wrapper lays on the floor, aimless and emotionless. Heaping piles of human lay wakened under a sea of crimson. Dripping on the floor. From deep emotion comes this yanking filth, this pestilence of vital fluid and...

Without a sound...
Without a look to the present...
What torturous treasures lie within...
Or beneath the pale cut throat and wavering opinion. A march hare's strategy. A foolish hatters delight.

...and I am the Superman. I have a cape, with a bowl of soup in the middle...I will be there in a minute, to be rescued.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Freedom form a curse

What is this? Cussing you out one moment. An apology comes from your lips and my visage changes? Your gentle wisp of word decanting my anger so easily? But you were wrong for sure... just don't remember that it was you, and neither do I...because I "needed" you.

I saw what we call poetry in motion this morning, something that reminded me of myself.

My son's last day of Kindergarten, little big man.

I saw the beauty that lies beneath our chronic sociological ambiguity. The touch of freedom gives us so much to ponder and not do. So little to not possess but remain stuck. I guess this is the gift we give as "the free".

He was another that liked to stop and take the time to smell the people.

And what comes up from this primordial ooze that we base our species upon. If not for magic, I'm sure I've discovered our existence, while full of good photographs, would be in a word...wordless.

And this substance? A man to another that brings us close? This glue, or binding method that procures a sense of connection to another human. Needless or not, we walk through this life needing. Constantly getting what we want and wanting more and more. It's what carries us from one good picture to the other as one goes through our good memory albums with giggles and smiles. It's the product of "want". The gift to enjoy the after party of "wanting".

But in between these is where our humanity lies, the "need", who takes photos of that? When our wall paper, latent with the experience of the choosing it out becomes to us shallow cell walls of an emotional prison. Who is tossing us bread and giving us water? Not only tossing but feeding it to us by hand. Cupping our chin between forefinger and thumb and pouring the water in. Brushing our hair from the sides of our faces to our ears, for what? To get a better picture of the desolation? Distrust would say to chime in for bargain tokens later in life when they fall on their ass as well, but is this the motivation?

Do you feel this? Have you ever been under the executioners axe with a fellow man's name on the death warrant and not your own? To place on the altar your dreams and ambitions in exchange for a loaf of bread that you will not partake of for it is not sacred to you. Is this human? Or "divine"? The connection, the glue or what substance that starts as dust, adding compassion and various mixers of pain is what provides what should be the answer and definition to human condition. As well as being the thing that binds us together for periods of life.

How Lovely when it grows. The invisible flower of a deed unnoticed. The imaginary stem of a rose that gets no praise. And all the more, if some should notice, if praise or notice come they should vanish as quickly as the concept of Utopian society in the mind of an imperialist.

This gluing. The patch forming left "untagged". The patience to wait in between the lines to take these pictures of lonely trips to the next wanting satisfied. These moments are precious! They are worth nothing, yet cost EVERYTHING!

These photographers of "need", they exist on a plain of reality that not everyone is immune to. And it's not an inoculation that keeps you there, or even safe from it's toxicity. They are born immune. Every human ventures there from time to time with borrowed cameras to pay respects, but these live there. They Love there. And fill every breath with the poison of souls pain. As do I, and love every minute of Love.

Welcome us but do not thank. Crutch on us silently but do not give praise. For with gifts our gifts are removed and our magic exposed. Do not be like us unless you have died yourself for there are no living among us. It's why we are such fantastic photographers. Our after parties are pictures. The pictures you put in front of your friends so they can see and agree you're "ok" after you have satisfied your "want" for the moment.

We'll always "not" be there. Our photos, none will never see. And our promise will never have "need".

I Love Love Love you all (..yes you), "remember" AAF-

Friday, June 18, 2010

Care Much?

She was there to meet them. Old connections now turned to good friends and people to take care of, to Love dearly and be Loved by. To feed. It's not so much that I give a shit about ours, it's always on and we are safe. But what about them? They Loved you too, and are innocent. They still need although we don't. They are still lonely although we are not. And they still care enough to ask...

If I could just see you, for a second. See where your eyes move when I ask you "that" question...the one you could never lie about (as if you could lie to me at all successfully, only just that time). Watch you play with your phone as if I'm a crossing wisp of air beside your cheek that exposes your cute elf ears. Still not realizing I'm a gale force wind. You made me so. (I move slowly toward you as you still look away, a silent whisper in your ear) " made me so..."

Your energy is like a severed overhead mainline, electrifying everything around it. It's not a wonder to me that you and others fall so quickly.

They are in Love with you. They fell as I did. They ask but you don't answer, I do. And tell them a beautiful story of where you are, what you are...that you are. Everything.

Darling...don't look down. You might see them as you step by. It might make you fall in Love again. And that, is fear, for you.

(written 1/20/10)

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


It's bleeding. Falling into another time zone. Somewhere out of care, but for me I keep staring.

Hypnotic. Color falls off like over watered patina on a high gloss canvas, but in layers. Someone had painted layer upon layer over millions of years.

Like the crescent of an obelisk in the center of night, the color still washing away.

I'm captivated. I can't move. Still breathing, it's taking me in. Closing all sensory transmission to the world that beckons me to follow.

It's falling deeper when it should be rising. I'm inside now. The blood warmth has me. I'm gone.

I'll be looking through the portal, watching closely...are you?

Have a good night life-

This pisstory

Not offended, not effected, not bothered, non-responsive. And Love you dearly! And I'll save the cream-filled ones for you. Extra glaze?? You know I hate the sweet stuff...well..? (HAHA!)

Figmented close

The 12 jewels of your emotional clock are out of syncopation. Needing to call an introspective technician. Don't rely on yourself or religion, for these can't be trusted. Look into it, for you, for him, not us. These things that plague your Love, as did ours, are inside you, not the other. They were inside me as well. And a death I undertook. I weep. But I am so alive!

Needing a sense of yourself, not a mask of intelligence and propriety as you've adopted. Educated you are, a journeyman at life. But as far as I can see, you still haven't begun to study this question. For it's a question not of logic...and you, at your very best are not logical, rather whimsical.

Still hoping it will shade your dark past. Running in place from a nightmare that really is only your shadow. Can't disperse shadows. Can't escape them. Your own at least. It's when the testing comes that shows our true nature, Love. The evil that rises from below the masks. ...Sweet girl...I Love you, I do. We become our surroundings. Who is becoming you, Love? Twins can't help but be what they are when they are together. The same with quasi difference.

Do the work, Sugar, Love. So you don't regret, because it's not a necessary spend of energy.

Love, (and you know the rest damnit!)

(written: 1/01/10)

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Poem for the Unseen

It's not a dream. It couldn't be a dream, and not because it felt so real. But because we bleed. So much thought, so much agony. So much Bliss. No pair was ever made to endure so much all at once. We MUST be aliens. We must be from another planet, or some long and lost race forgotten by time. Made from different dust. From extra-terrestrial ethereal substance.

Of course, there was nothing at first but a glance. Not more than a greeting or goodbye. Not more than a half second thought. But Love grew. Lack of words to a deep piercing into the ocean of our sunlit eyes, in moments. What normally takes years between two living things.

Fascination in the depth of something unknown, unseen, unspoken by the worlds breath. As if the powers that be had been stripped of their emotions and forced to see and learn what feeling really is. What feeling should be. We angered them with our Love. They took revenge on us out of their jealousy. They knew they had never seen, never heard, never lived, Love like this. Nor was it in their capacity to exude.

The sacred castle that should never have been under shroud, built itself quickly. A spire in the desert. A brook of water where there was only death. Now life stirred and thrived there. The spire still stands and will stand forever. A testament to Love's invention. It was built by their hands. Their blood spilled. It was their price for now what is witnessed.

And now what do we pay? Is there a cost to fix this? Could it be that simple...? Surely it would grow stronger and mightier than what opposes.

How do I Love her? HOW do I Love her? How do I keep her waters cool? Or temper her enough to keep her forever in my simple swimming hole, the abysmal existence only the Phantoms mask can mirror. Can I do such a thing? This gift to all that lives and Loves from the powers that be? High up in their shadows? Or would this be too much for anything depending on breath to live? I would that breath didn't exist.

He lived. He would have died to give her the rights to solace and unending peace from her historical torment. Leaving thousands at a loss for he was built solely to Love. Not just to the one.

Flowers wilt and sugar ferments. Night gets darker and the sun stays behind the thickness when she refuses her Love. Whomever she gives it to is immortal. Tragically ALL, except one whom was built for Love's sake. He was never immune. He is not immortal. The one whom has that burden and privilege to carry. Alone in strength from a higher entity.

So the world will be Loved and nurtured. She will be Loved and cherished. He...

That was our far as I can see.

There is another that is stronger than he.

To be continued. Maybe not in this world. But in a dream world of dream-like reality. Perhaps, only a finger flick away.

(written 11/12/09)

You're welcome

Need an outlet, something more than reading groups. I hope anyone that comes will either leave comforted, enlightened or pissed. I'll take all three in the same sitting, I got you, YOU!! Going to enjoy this, Much Love!