Tuesday, June 12, 2018


You Are

The clash between beasts is utterly complete.
She speaks to me through her words.
Time is like a transcending void.
I am utterly whole.
The foreign land glares in the distance,
we go by boat, not by shore.
In the rising sun we find different ways
to keep us from floating out to sea,
from the rising sun to the horrid moon,
to the day that breaks and bends,
I am here waiting for you, my love,
as the tide fades away.
You are the river that waits for me.
I am the course of the action in the void,
I am the darkness that seeks out darkness,
I am the wading of the tide.
Night hides from me. It is broken.
The seeds of the grapes have been bitter and weep;
I weep along with it.
Nothing comes short of darkness,
bitterness fades to gray.
I am the wholeness and the light,
the darkness does not take me,
nor will take me in the night.
You are whole with me.
You are the grape to my strawberry.

Tuesday, June 05, 2018

Today, This Morning.

Today is the day I am going
To better myself for the people around me.
Today the day is nice and calm,
And a breeze is blowing.
I sit outside on my patio, watching
The birds go from tree branch to tree
Branch, their song filling the quiet
Morning air.

It is morning, have I mentioned that?
The sun shines above me like a pinched
Nerve, always glowing, like a big star.
The air is glowing, too.

I feel like I can conquer anything,
Including the depths of my own heart,
The heart that beats regularly inside my chest,
And there is a parade because it is summer,
And the night will be vast,
And I am vast with it.

The air is still, stiller than my heart,
And the rhythm of the wind is rhythmical.
Something is not in the way of us,
Not in the way, we go forward, always
Moving, stiller than breath.

Sunday, June 03, 2018


The Dreams Will Take Me

As fast as the dreams will take
I am defiant.
I am defiant in my waking.
The river is vast as my heart.
The tempest is dim as my ears.
I hear nothing.
I speak nothing.
I am nothing.
Nothing garners all wisdom.
Nothing speaks in the void.
The void is darkness.
I feel around me the night,
And it is dimming.
Facts are as small as I am.
I have not hoped things will
Die down,
But I am beginning to.
I am beginning to see the light
Ahead of me,
So deep and sensual,
And I can swim in it.

Sunday, May 27, 2018


For all time, I will wander, lost,
in the sea of the world.
For all time, I will dream of what
I can't have and what I didn't do.
My love has been lost in an
endless sea filled with rage.
I am lost with the endlessness of time.
Time is a ragged thing, long and winded.

It tears at you with its claws and you try
to break free and can't, something holds
you back, your memories and the faces of
the ones you love.
Memories are strange, forgetful things
that have no thoughts or feelings but still hide
deep inside of you and try to make you forget
the greatness that is you, that is the world,
that you are not lost or unloved.
I still wander lost and afraid, unknown to
the battle field, and my heart yearns
for freedom.


The Fearful Sun

The thunder crashes against the
Live-long day.
Nothing will sustain it, not even death.
Thunder is everlasting.

It is quick and omnipotent.
It can shake and shiver at the ground.
It can move and wither like a snake.
Branches move in the wind.
Lightning strikes like a gourd.

How hard the sound makes, as the thunder
Rumbles, and lightning flashes,

And the whole sky is lit up because the
Sun has gone.
The sun will not return for several hours,
Because it is afraid.


The Sea and the Night

My heart is blacker than the night.
It seethes and burns like a sea.
I am the night that is darker than this,
I am the sea that is born of nothing.
Nothing resides within myself.

Nothing is everywhere that I am not.
Lucky is the darkness that is the night;
Luck is the turning of the tide as the ship
Comes in, water crashing against its sides,
Water rushing over the wooden floors
That bend and move and wave because
A storm is coming and it will last forever.

The sea is going on forever until it evolves
Into a calming thing that we like to see,
To move in and feel against our faces.

The clock is ticking.  The night is bitter
And the moon’s round face is hidden
In shadow, and the water is dark,
And everything is dark in it.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018



My heart weeps for you in the daytime,
As well as at night.
I thought I could get over it by talking to someone
But it hasn’t helped me yet.
My heart is yearning for the turning of the tides,
When things will go my way and I will be happy.
But sometimes the hunger gnaws at my stomach
And I have to go away and make little green paper.
The little green paper helps me buy food.
It is a treat to my stomach.
I wish it wasn’t so, but it is in the minds of the government
To make it so and I cannot stand up to the masses.
I’m sorry, my love, but my love for you is not so great
That I am willing to risk the goodness of food in my
My heart yearns for the yeast bread, the doughnuts,
The veggies and greens.  I am aching, my love,
To hold you in my heart and in my heart you will
Remain, because I am too scared to give up this
Thing called food.  I must go.


The Night

The calm is like the night.
My eyes are bitter as a storm.
This dream seems to be neverending.
Nothing is caught in the web.
I have not heard or seen it in a dream,
This web I have made myself.
I am caught in it, help!  I have made
Myself appear bitter in the eyes of others.
I do not see bliss as a mode of myself.
I do not see time as a way to heal things.
Once something is broken it is broken.
You cannot heal it now or then.
When you miss something you miss it forever.
Sometimes hearts and minds cannot be shaped
To be what you wish.
I hear the echo in the wind.  Sometimes it makes me
Think of you.
There’s a void in my heart that you left,
A long time ago when I had dreams,
But now I have none and I don’t care.
The lesson is not in the dreaming.
I don’t care what others perceive of me.
Sometimes you just have to let things go.
I have not awakened to the time of things.
Dreams are broken now, they are like yesterday.

Wednesday, May 09, 2018



The robin was throwing leaves
Out of the water
As if he were picking up trash
On the side of a highway
Some people like to pick up
Trash and I hail those kinds
Of people
As if they were the only
People living on this faithless
This planet that throws animals
And people away like they
Are nothing and
I can see why most people
Act like they are nothing
And will be nothing
Until the day they
Are buried in a cemetery
With its hard tombstones
And flowers strewn
About like radishes
Animals making nests
In bushes put in by
The caretaker
And family members leaving
Flowers by their graves
When I die I want someone
To pick up trash in my memory
As if I hadn’t done it at all
During my lifetime
Maybe I should start doing it now.
Just like the robin.

Saturday, May 05, 2018



He is thirsty in a way that other people
Are not thirsty and have no desire for thirst

Once he was on an island in the middle
Of a vast ocean that had no name

But someone had named it a long time ago
And someone else thought that was pretty special

Do you know what I think is pretty special?
Finding out something is better than you expected,

Like folding laundry.
He is thirsty.  His nerves are shattered.

He takes things and holds them in his arms
Maybe a puppy or some kind of pillow

That holds his head at night.
But I wouldn’t wonder at self-sacrifice.

That seems almost like a sacrifice.


As We Know It

Life as we know it is strangely misshapen into a pair
Of oxymorons that cannot be escaped or obtained.
Destruction has a mind of its own and creates craters
Where there are none.
Everything is simply solidified into broken parts,
Strewn onto the highways of doubt.
It’s something I don’t know the answer to.
I don’t know the answer to anything,
About the green grass growing or the time of day.
I don’t know who created the sundial or why it
Was created.
I don’t understand the simplicity of anything.
In the dreams of our kind, we strive to be better
Than yesterday, but some people are already there
And I envy them the way a crocodile envies an ice
Cream cone on a long hot day at work.
Strewn about the highway of self-doubt.
Strewn about the occurrences of yesterday.
I am beginning to think about the tides of things
And how light bends and waves.
Destruction is self-annihilation. 
Learn to better yourself in the process.