The Bus

 

Found, Through Translation

 

Nocturne For The Mountain

 

Reflections

 

Starry Night

 

Back to the Pen—

The Weapon—

The Friend—

Out Here on Road—

We Depend

And Rely—

To Never Defend—

But Imply—

The Hedgehog

I've backed myself into this Corner—

  There's no one Here, but Me—

I am not Weak enough to Leave—

  But Strong enough to Be—

Poke me now, I might bite back—

  Forgive a Spine of this—

For as of Now, my bags are Full—

  Carrying, hard-earned Bliss—

The Therapist

The Air I hold is Heavy Today—

  The Light, too Bright for Eyes—

The World Outside is much too Loud—

  And I haven't the Strength to Sigh—

I cannot Find what I was looking for—

  I can't Remember either—

Sleep is now, the only Guest

  To Call, and I would Answer—

But is it This?—these Silly Words—

  That I Lost back at the Start?

No, no,—no they are not—

  But they Always Play the Part.

What shall I do with this Heavy Air?

  Breathe it out again?—

Is it for sure, the Cycle Repeats?—

  If so, when does it End?—

Now let's start over, Here & Now—

  Forget the Weight of Air—

Place your Hand upon your chest—

  There's still a Heart in there—

Your Dog, now find the Leash—

No one ever knows

What another life is like—

So put your Finger away

And hide it, like a Knife.

Home

A Secret Frequency of Mind

  Is where I call my Home—

No single Place, nor any Time—

  But Waves, I call by Name—

A certain Distance must Remain

  To not Feel so Alone—

And what is Near too often Bears

  Weight, that is not its Own—

Time & Distance, if in Balance

  Keep Gravity in Motion

So that we're never Burdened by

  Static Locomotion—

A Walk Outside

Between each Second, there Hides an Hour

  Behind each Thought—a Dimension of Feeling

Between Dream and Reality—an Abeyant World

  The Artist must Conjure and attempt to Persuade.

It's Beyond the extremes of Silences and Noise—

  Outside of the Interstate's Midnight Howl—

Just Before the Fury of that Lucky shooting Star—

  Tangled in the Harmonics of an Oceanic Signal—

Where Instruments are Waiting to be set into Motion—

  And Songs sit Idle, awaiting their Choir—

Where the Arches of Cathedrals are built to withstand

  The extraordinary Light of a Butterfly's Wing—

Where Melodies inaudible to Earthly ears—

  And Ideas too Majestic for any one Mind—

And Rain not keeping a familiar Rhythm—

  But that of a Signature, still yet defined—

All wait for the One—if any—Brave,

  Enough To Venture, Outside of Time.

Survival

Blank-faced, I drive North

Into the Heart of Winter—

This winterized Creature, steady,

Clutching the Shaky Wheel—

I could have been Everything.

But from the day we're Born,

We humans Love to Refuse

The World, the way it is.

Like Stone, it rolls Shut—

Like a Switch, it turns Off—

And we always know the Potential

While relying on the Kinetic—

We dig ourselves into our Holes

And write our silly Songs,

Hoping to Escape to the Place

Beyond, Words and Time—

Warmer than any Embrace—

Beyond the Paradigm of false believers—

Deeper, than any Conversation

Could ever be, without collapsing in on itself.

Oh how Sick we are!—

But Winter drops the Purest Whites—

Lethargic Ice freezing our Sickness

Into a thick, heavy, limp Sleep.

Soon, it will be Spring—

We Sink into the Dream,

Of Rising—

With The Sun, Once again.

Broken, Not Beaten

You Fool!—

Look how Stupid you've Become!—

You used to not know what would Happen—

And didn't Care!—

But now—now, you know!

And Care too much!—

Pathetic!—

Look at you!—

Spending all your Time

Going on and on about Everything—

When Nothing, 

Is what you Forgot to Remember!—

You will Learn, you will Learn—

And it will be the Last thing you do

That Counts—

Toward a Sum too Large to Measure!

        ...Idiot!—

Those who want More

are doomed to boredom—

to disappointment—

that Second Helping

is never a surprise—

Those who want Depth?—

Crippled in the Shallows!—

where the Plenty flourish & frolic

freely, without Injury—

Now, forbidden their Danger,

Seekers are Exiled!—

closely scrutinized—

by fearful eyes

behind veils of worry—

Forever—

Allowed only Crumbs & Puddles—

the incidental stains

on mandatory uniforms

reluctantly worn

are the only signs of Originality—

Humiliation!—

but they call it Humility—

those who want More,

are Doomed.

Orbital Possibilities

The Thoughts from Night

Try to Darken the Day

As Closed-Eyed Comfort

Wakes its Way

Into the Sea of Memory—

While Sunkissed Thoughts

Habour the Night's—

Combining and Binding

Orbital Possibilities—

Beyond The Crystal Lake (part one)

A Parasitic Attack of Pink Balloons!—

 Marching—Stoic, to the drums of Death!—

  the Stomper's swollen, bleeding feet

   shred and bruise as Carcasses Spoil—

    then shovel themselves up

     off the Sagging, Filthy Pavement—

The Stench is swiftly Swept away

 by Unreasonably freezing Winds—

  Collected into thundering, Seething clouds

   Anxious to spill sulfuric acid

    upon all those Brave enough to still be Alive

     with Exposed and Broken Skin.

But we have our Doubts, lots of Doubts—

 they say crouch Low, be Invisible & Silent—

  as we're Guided with Intricate Devices

   into Arenas—the Fights are about to begin!—

    and the Fights both Excite and Tame.

And the Rain is so Numbingly Cold, 

 even substantially mixed with Tears—

  but still not as intolerable

   as being eaten alive by maggots,

    Alone,

     in some dark, muddy Corner—again—

And many, are still in the Prisons—

 trapped, afraid, and burning alive—

  the fires of Hell still raging beneath—

   no—Earth will never be depleted of Misery—

    it has Proven itself to be quite Complete.

And they say Heaven is beyond the Crystal Lake,

 beyond the moonlight's gentle Reach,

  beyond even, the dimmest Star, oh—

    but I have my doubts, lots of doubts...

     in anyone's Ability to Surrender Peacefully—

With Hearts all mangled and tangled—

 constricted to irregular and tiring

  intervals of beating and non-beating—

   and the Gods of Poetry have already called 

    the winner's name to habitually accept

     the ham-fisted Knot of Love—

      and Look! a signature is already there!—

       under the unbroken wax seal—

        and it is ours!...

They say Heaven is Beyond the Crystal Lake,

 beyond the Wake of our own Reflection—

  beyond the Drop and its Circular Ripple—

   beyond every Swimmer's ability to breathe—

    but they've never once mentioned

     what's Asleep at the Bottom—

      waiting for the Chosen—to Fatefully Enter,

       the Storied, Crystal lake...

Kisses Linger—

Smiles—Laughter—

Oh these Hands!—

How they Remember!—

The Heartbeat Hurts,

The Brain's in Pain—

Welcome!—

To Existence!—

Words are Said—

And Promises Kept—

At the Expense

Of an Innocent's Sanity!—

What Matters Most?—

Is Superior of Words—

Still Hiding—Inside Me—

Only Everything (pt.1)

I went for a Walk some years ago

   And never have I stopped

Even once to take a breath

   For fear that what is not

                    ~

Immediate, may soon remove

   Itself from Journey's Path

Which somehow found a Way for me

   Even though I forgot to Ask.

Forever, is a Series

    of Moments—

Collect them All—

  Invest in Time—

Cherish, each Expense—

  Then Eternity

   Will Pay a Visit—

When You least Expect it—

The Dance of Shadows

Behind Closed Eyes

The Shadows Dance

To the Music of Eternal Sadness

The Organ Reaches

For the Sound of Life

As it Echoes across the Valley

The People—Flat—

Ageless and Blank—

Their Stories not yet Written

And then the Scene—

Remote—Serene—

Vanishes, like it never Happened

But the Music Wades

And I hear Her Drown—

Beyond the Present Dimension

And what She Knows

Belongs to Shadows

Dancing, in Perfect Unison—

The Lake is Glass

The Sky a Mirror

The Moon, Silent, Reflecting

All that Is

And ever Was

Dancing, slowly, Dancing—

A Conversation With The Forgotten Recluse (translated from ______)

...Sir, I have come very far, for I have heard that You are the One

whom Nobody Understands.

I heard you were once a great Musician, composing Songs

Nobody could Understand; sung in a Key Nobody could hear.

...Sir, I too wish to compose Music, but not sound that generates Outward,

no—rather, sound Gathered from All things and directed Inward,—

I wish to Live in this Song, but have not been able to build it—

Most seek Houses for Shelter. I seek Music. Can you help me sir?

"Love is the Fuel of the Universe–

without it, we become weak–

we lose our balance and Fall, 

for we are Upright Creatures.—

Love is a Forest.—

One need only look Through the Trees

for both proof and Inspiration—

The forest does not look outward

for strength or fuel—it Is everything—

everything it needs to conquer,

succeed, expand, and prosper.

It does not question the Fire

But allows and forgives

while standing proud and sure, 

of its regenerative Power.

"Life is suffering" say the weak—

they have lost their balance

and crawl, seeking Pity while

forgetting their past laughter.

"Yes" say the Upright 

"for without suffering,

there can be no Love"—

we all draw water from the same Well

and water weighs the same

no matter our Strength.

We are Vulnerable, just as the Forest—

As All Life—as Love.—

Accept, Allow and Love also This.

The Barren Land Loves the Forest

For it knows it is coming—

The Forest does not Pity the Desert

but sees Opportunity.

The Forest does not curse the Fire,

the Tornado, the Deluge, nor Draught—

but understands, accepts, and adapts.

The Forest never loses sight of its Goal

for its essence is 'Goal'—

Attention and Intention—

This is Love.

Let it Bloom.

Let it Die.

Let it Transcend....

We All Embody Love

for by it, we are Born.—

It is nothing we must seek out, 

but realize, wait for, and accept. 

Nothing else has ours.

Nobody else has ours.

Every life-form has Purpose—

It is Universal Law—

Even momentum has purpose—

crawling slows our momentum

accelerating Decline.

Weakness then, makes room

for fear and isolated suffering

to form clouds and cast shadows—

when we, as the Forest—

Love the Sun but do not expect it.

The Forest is Memory

it is a scavenger

that squanders nothing—

the forest has many long arms.

We are not the only Forces in the World

Thus we understand and accept

Life's Challenges—

reluctance is weakness,

Doubt is Ignorant

And Fear is unharnessed Potential.

Fire, Clouds, Hunger, parasites—

to understand all is to Love,

and Love is the Net

to all Condition's Pitfalls."

Bedtime Story #27

The Night takes Flight Inside The Mind

  Above these Starry Shores—

Look!—Up there!—are All The Thoughts—

  Just Waiting, to be Yours!—

And there's The Dream You Were Last Night—

  Still Soaring,—all along—

As Sleep lies Waiting, with Curious Eyes—

  Hoping, to Write Your Song—

And the Day is Done,—what You've Become

  Lies Here, right on this Bed—

And All you Were, or Ever Will Be

  Is There, Above Your Head—

And Darkness Hides the Full Potential

  Of even the Brightest Mind—

And that is Why, we Close our Eyes—

  To Seek, is not, to Find—

The Human Brain can Feel no Pain—

  Much Smarter than The Heart—

As it does its best to keep us Sane

  When Living's, done its Part

To Crush the Heart with Gravity

  Too Heavy to be Measured—

While the Ceaseless Beating keeps us Breathing

  And The Murmur, Slyly Stifled. 

On a Central Plane

Lies Imagination—

Direction has no Place

And the Dream last night

Quietly Escaped—

Leaving only a Partial Trace

For Where it's Born

It must Return—

And There, it All Remains

For in the Sky

Lies Everything

Consciousness, Contains.

Entrance

Always Finds Time

To Lead

The Exit Away

From the Forward Motion

Of Desire.

That Light we See

And Distance Felt

Is How we Place

Ourselves.

The Possession

Demon!—Rid me of this Burden!

Rid me of all Desire!—

Of all Thought!—

It is of no Use! I am of no use!—

I am not Here any longer!—

I cannot go on waiting for Nothing

To Happen, or not!—

This Slow Death called Life.....

—It's Dead!—

I now Live and Thrive

Behind the Impenetrable Walls

Of Death itself!—

Where All is Born and Re-born!

—Yes!—

I've accepted my Decline!—

Into this repulsive decadence!—

This Controversy!—

This ridiculousness!—

I indulge in excesses of every kind!—

Addiction!—Obsession!—

Infatuation!—

Yes! Yes! Yes!—

More!—MORE!!!—

The Ocean Overhead!?!—

The Abyss Below!—

Both have become too Loud!—

I have gone Deaf and now,

Somehow I've grown New ears!—

My Dreams are Disturbed, stressful!—

I lay half awake all night,

Floating in and out of some other Hell

Besides this one!—

I have no Desire—other than to sleep!—

But I'm unable to do even that completely!—

I've been pacing anxiously,

Behind black curtains—waiting,

—Waiting for what?!—

Oh Leave me alone!—

Please!—

Why me?!—I am not the one!—

...I need a hobby...

Oh, but hobbies bore me to death!—

I would rather die from confusion than boredom!—

I would rather Suffer! why?!—

Leisure without purpose—

It's Death!—

Inexcusable death! Irresponsible death!—

NO!—something is Important and it has ME!—

It is not important the why......Focus!—

Have I gone Mad?!?—

I've already done everything I know to do—

Everything that I can think to have in Place, 

Is in place!—

AH! I am missing something!—

That's it!—

But What?!?—

I am climbing, yes—did I forget my Shoes?

Was I Trying to get to a point high enough

So That I may bolt on my wings and Fly!?—

AH! where are my wings?!—

They are stored away—

Why did I take them off?—

I was tired, yes!—I'm beginning to remember

Singing rearranged folk songs in Flight

Upsetting my stomach...

Ah!—my perception of the Present

is tainted by my assumptions of the Future!—

Where is Ground Zero?

What world is real anymore?!—

What I thought I knew has been 

Replaced!—

By Memories!—

Oh!—how can I trust the Past?!—

Is it not tainted by the Present?!—

Only when we are Invisible

Is anything able to be Seen

For what it really is!—

Can anyone see me?!—

—No?!

—Excellent!—

Oh Alcohol!—bring me Words!—

A sign of the New World!—

A revolution!—Fuel for the tired Engines

An epiphany! A revelation!—

A new obsession!—a new infatuation!

New eyes!—A new mind!—

New Blood!—Put the Beast in front of me

And let me at it! Give me something!—

Something to, Fear!!!—

Yes! I have become fearless! careless!—

There is no danger here in this Garden!

Show me the Devil himself!—

Or Herself!...ah!—I have seen them!—

But they are not really Devils!—

No!—Men like to fear what they cannot 

possess!—

Oh I digress!!!—

Oh but they do fear God yes!—but look!—

They worship God!—For they have created Him!

As a pet I tell you!—and thus many men

Prefer pets as wives!—

But no!—Women are Angels!

Angels I tell You!

Ah!—but how quickly they can turn!

—Like a Switch!!!—

Moody Demons!—

But you cannot blame them!

You Demon!—

Leave me be!—

I am not Mad!—

And this is why!—

This is why we put ourselves through Hell!—

We could never be above the heavens,

And we refuse to be equal!

So we choose to be below!—

And beg for mercy! for forgiveness!

We beg to be saved!—

Ah! no!—I am not talking about Christ!—

This is too much!—Too Much I tell you!—

Show me what awaits for me 

Should I stay Here!—Here,

In comfortable, incomplete, vague Hell!...

...You taunt me, you tease me with a task

Then leave it for me to figure out what!?—

How cruel!!—yes!—Aha!—

Anger!—

I can use my anger!!!—

I'll get out of this, you Demon!!!—

Ha! I have tricked you!!!—See?

Do you see Demon?!?!—

I am in Control!!!—

I am in Charge!!!!....

...the Demon, smiles to himself, 

  and turns calmly away—

    content with his work,

      and patiently waits

        for yet another Artist

          to transcend their own Art—

...to lose themselves....

           and be resurrected

into the eternal purgatory of Existence...

..."Antennas of the Earth!—

          Give Birth!—

     To Empyreal Signals!—

            Dying Eternally

                         while Waiting

           For their Receivers!"...

A Thought is Worth a Lifetime—

  A Feeling, yet Another—

The Secret to Eternity,

  Is Intensity's Endeavour—

Leave no Thought Abandoned—

  Leave no Feeling Alone—

They will Show you, if you Allow

  Yourself into Their Unknown—

How to Forbid your Present Fears

  From Drowning out Latent Love—

To Forever Think & Feel Intensely—

  What Lies Beneath, can Rise Above.

And Listen Closely to the Silence—

  Feel the Beat of The Hidden Heart—

Remember the Music not yet Made,

  And Watch all Ends, Become a Start.

  

Availability is Kin to Ability—

  In order to Express, we Must

Be There for, the Thing that Wants—

  Regardless of Time or Place.

To be Busy, is Kin to Inability—

  We'll miss what could've been Known—

While Ignorance is Bliss to some,

  Others, it will Never Own.

Count the Years—

Not the Months—

For Weeks are Lost

Each Day we Stop—

To Clock the Hours—

Or Calendar a Box—

A Minute is Wasted

Every Second We Stop.

A Portrait of Two Nights

Angels are Asleep Tonight:

There is no Moon,

And the Tide is Low.

A Town shuts Down,

All gets Quiet—

Windows grow Dim with Exhaustion.

                ~

Demons are Awake Tonight:

Stars are Hidden,

And the Water reeks of Sulfur.

A City Becomes Busy,

Sirens Wail—

Flashing Lights, Seize the Streets.

A Haiku Experiment/Distraction—

Women Are In Charge

Follow the Current to Death

Do not Wonder Why

                ~

If You are Lucky

A Precious Gem will Find You

Keep it in the Light

                ~

Autumn's Love Fell Slow

Its Dying Leaves Mimic Snow

Bold enough to Freeze

                ~

Art Can Save A Life

If its Intent is as Pure

As its Origin—

                ~

Love—is not Human—

We are the Result of It—

Look!—at that Sun—Shine!—

The Trick (is to keep moving)

Take your Heaven in Measured Doses

  Spread Adequately—Apart—

Lest we Forget, Enduring Hell,

  Be the Greatest Performance Art.

And Distance, Now—Measured in Miles

  From the Heart's Refined Extremes

Grants us Breath we'd never Have

  Confined in a Room of Needs—

So Let It Be—that Place—Above—

  Within our Minds, we'll Always Have

A Shore to Crash those Waves of Love

  And a Place to Store what's come to Pass.

With Eyes to See—and Arms to Reach—

  The Horizon—is Ours to Own—

Lest we're Blinded and Crippled by

  That Concept Known as Home—

To Be Both Shore, and Stormy Sea—

  To Be Both Sky and Dark Abyss—

Take Her* Hand—no Matter Where—

  Before The Chance is Missed.

                                            *The

  

Shadow Of Death

Give me a Cloud

Under the Afternoon Sun

That I may Lose

This Mocking Shadow—

Anything I Choose

It Faithfully Follows—

Each Step as Sudden

As the Release of the Gallows

    untitled/unfinished

Drain the Well of Tears—

Bleed the Beating Heart—

See the Sun go Down

& Your Light, go Slowly, Dark—

Watch Her Flowers Drown

In Your Pool of Blood—

Yes—All we Know is Owned

By the Rushing Flood of Love.—

From the Well Of Life—Drink!

To the Tombs of Death—Sink!—

From the Womb of Dust—Rise!

But don't Forget to Blink!—

And Remember Her Forever—

Her Laughter—Echoes—Deep—

And Every Moment—Savour!—

For the next, you'll surely Weep!

Forever In The Fire

Forever in the Fire of Life

We Burn—

We Gain, to Lose—

We Learn, to Forget—

We Love, to Hurt—

Over, and Over Again—

For What is Fire?—

But The Divine Light—

Of The Cycle—

That Lives—

Despite our Own—

You—

The Sight of You

Defines my Vision,

And the Drive to You

Refines my Mission—

            ~

When I am Away,

I am Never Lost—

Lonely?—Yes—

But Sure, of Us.

Time For Sleep

When Thoughts are Deeper

   Than the Fathomed Sea

Go to Sleep, & Let them Be—

For in the Morning,

   The Sun will Shed

Its Light upon that Cryptic Depth.

Innumerous Complexities

...The Innumerous Complexities

   Relentlessly Swarm & Attack—

   From Where can any Focus come

   When we know not front from back?

...Electrically, we are Inclined

   To Perceive, to Will, or not—

   But how can "We" ever be Defined

   Knowing not Where we start nor stop?

...I saw it once, or Thought I did—

   A Direction for the Plot—

   But who exactly, wrote the Story,

   When we know not How,

      We start, nor stop?

    

Letters in the Mail—

 Teach Patience—

    And Trust—

We're Allowed to Hope—

     To Let Go—

Putting Something,

 In Another's Hands—

        For a Change—

Faith, in Reciprocity—

Poker Face Pt.1

The Odds have already been Defied by You—

The Stakes so High, there were no Bets—

   For who dare sit at such a Table,

So haphazardly Placed, and never Set?—

But Here I Bask, both Then, and Now—

I listen to the rhythm of this northern town—

   Its streets so Busy in the middle of Day,

Then becoming so Empty, when the Sun goes down—

These Imploding Emotions both Dance & Swoon

Then Run, and Cry, and Rage away—

   So different are these Moods at Noon—

Than toward the End of a Tortured Day—

And like the Streets and Waves Within—

We're Given a Sky, then Robbed of it—

   Depending on the way the Shifting Wind,

Blows or Goes, as it sees Fit—

...Could we Persuade, or even Pray—

The Wind, the Bets, the Stars that can—

   Direct the Course of a Given Day,

Would we not have Exposed the Winner's Hand?—

Atop A Wire

Atop a Wire—

A Small Bird Sings

In the Golden Rays of Time—

Against a Sky

Of Spotless Blue—

Those Notes, Become my Mind.

And as I Close

My Eyes to See

The World that Faces Me

That Song Becomes

So Intertwined

With the Present Reality—

That when I Open

My Eyes Again

And Look Out toward the Day

I've Found I Now,

Have so Much More,

Left to Do, and Say—

The Sun

In the Abyss that Was,

  A Star has Landed—

And what was Dead,

  New Life's been Granted—

And For the Star,

  I Give my Ore—

For Her to Burn

  Forever More—

And Before She Was,

  There was Nothing—

And Now She Is,

  Only,—Everything—

What more could anyone

  Ever want or need—

Than to be Smothered by Fire

  And Hung, by its Heat?

The Revelatory Heart

Coincidence?—Our Ignorance!—

Expressed—thru' Inferior Language—

To that of Celestial Organizations

Over Current Fallacious Perceptions—

For Order Is,—Our Human Excuse

And Ultimately too,—Divine—

And Unknown Is, to us, an Abysmal

Tangle to Quickly Rewind—

For In The Beginning, All was Set

Into Perpetual Locomotion—

And so our Brains, too fast React

To the Phantasmagorian Ocean—

But Thankfully, the Heart is True—

For Dust we Are,—It Must—

Beat to the Muses' Hidden Rhythms—

Its Pulse, we must learn to Trust—

For the Paroxysmal Assumptions of

A Brain with Poor Reception

Lead only to Doubts turned inside-out

And our slow, but sure, Deception—

& Look!—the Heart—it knows it well—

Listen!—and Dance along!—

And through all the Static,

You'll soon pick up

On the Notes of Perpetual Song—

Finding Forever

When Love is Felt

  Like Nothing Prior

Believe it True—

  The Heart's no Liar.

                ~

And when Love is Found

  Without Pursuit

Stay right There—

  For That, is Truth.

                ~

And when Love is the Source

  Of all your Power—

When Love Inspires,

  When Love can Conquer

Anything at all,

  No matter the Weather—

Stay right There—

  It is, Forever.

And when Love is the World

  Be The Sun—

When Love is the Night,

  Be The Light—

And when Love is the Muse

  Guiding The Way,

Remember to Draw

  Your Swords, to Say:

You Are My World—

  You're Everything to me,

I Love You, and will,

  For Eternity.

Spilled Secrets

Tip the Glass and make it Last—

  Form will Follow Function—

For Liquid cares not Where it's Put—

  But Swayed, by Void's Seduction—

It Matters not, the Vessel nor—

  The Place where It may Rest—

What Matters is the Force that Moves—

  One Subject, to the Next—

Waiting

Waiting—

Is Time's Authority—

Exercised—

Tested,

Through Patience—

To Prove Yourself Equal

Defeats Purpose,

And The Stream

Cuts Through Land

Regardless.

Vous Et Nul Autre 00.108

You Are The Sun.

I—Only Shadow—

At Night We Are One,

At Noon, I Follow.

While You Were Sleeping

 

While You Were Sleeping—

  I Drove Through the Night,

Twelve Hundred Miles Away—

  The Full Super Moon

Threw Brilliant Blue Light

  Making Night about as Bright as Day.

                    ~

My Deep-rooted Darkness

  And Inward-most Thoughts

Travelled with me on the Road—

  But the Blue Super Moon,

It Lightened my Mood—

  And the Past no longer was Known.

                    ~

For While You Were Sleeping—

  I was Handed a Vision—

So Clearly, Directly from Heaven!

  And I Saw right in Front of me—

Instead of a Passing—

  Something not Taking, but Given.

                    ~

For between the White Lines

  Was much More than Time—

Now I saw, not only The Motion—

  But in Each blinking Moment  

A Waiting Destination

  Wading in the Waves of an Ocean.

                    ~

And Though You Are Sleeping—

  Soon will come Morning—

The Day, shall Finally Begin—

  And in all of its Glory,

With all of Our Stories—

  The Night we can Finally Transcend!—

                    ~

And Light once Reflected—

  Now Rising,—Directed—

The Transition—a powerful Tonic—

  Bringing Forward these Words

I've never once Heard—

  So Accurate and still, Euphonic—

                    ~

Thank God You Are Sleeping!—

  I don't want to wake You!—

It's Early still—oh!—but I do!—

  Two Worlds are Colliding—

All this Time Hiding

  Within Me, and Obviously, You—

                    ~

The Old World is Gone!—

   We've Waited so Long!— 

Oh how many Tears and Hours?!—

  Now Open Your Eyes!

And Reflect the Skies!—

  See—Darkness, by Diamonds, Devoured!

Unfinished—

Time, Is a Slow-Moving Creature—

But He is Determined—

He has already Won the Race—

Without any Effort at all—

And Knows it—

We Run along-side—we Hide—

Trying not to Fall Behind—

We Scheme, we Devise—

We already Know we've Lost—

And our Aging Faces Show It.

To/For/About Emily Dickinson

 ....While Sitting on the Porch across the street,

   at 257 Main. 1st visit to Amherst. August, 2023

A Morning—I've Refined—

Coffee—and Possibility—

Yours and Mine Combined—

Divinest Company—

Exponential Gains—

Musings all too Similar—

Transpondence not Contained

In anything Familiar—

Feelings—You are Here—

Admiring these Homes—

Impaled!—the Inner Ear—

Electrifies the Lobes—

Eyes too Wide to Maul—

Focus, or Affix—

A Thought to any Wall—

But Fly—On Light Emit—

Your Lamp—Faint Rays—Adorn—

On top your Tiny Desk—

Where Galaxies Were Born—

And Given Place to Rest—

Through All the Modern Chatter—

A Hybrid Symphony—

Notes too Much for Paper—

Ringing Out Eternally.

The Well (or, The Meaning of Life)

The Deepest Well

Has the Purest Water—

Far too Deep to Draw—

With a Single Bucket

We can only Hope

To Maintain the Strength to Grip

And as We Look

Up to the Sky

For Strength we rightly Need

We Pray our Bucket

Does not Break

And that our Hands not Slip

The Sweetest Voice 

I've Ever Heard—

Makes Novels from

A Single Word—

And In the Pauses

In-Between—

Lie Silences—

Too Long for Me.

Vous Et Nul Autre

 Vous Et Nul Autre

       —Two—

An Angel was Called

  Back up to Heaven—

Then Flown Back Down

  For a Reason—

            ~

Her Soul-Mate still

  Had yet to Find

His Angel, Here

  To Ease his Mind—

            ~

And Now They Walk

  An Immortal Shore—

Their Eyes to Skies

  Beyond Death's Door—

            ~

Their Future, Now

  Looks Calm, & Loved

By All the Angels

  Still Up, Above—

            ~

And the Simple Thing

  Shall Never Go—

For as One, They Bring

  Light, into Shadow—

            ~

New Worlds Discovered!—

  Two Hearts as One!—

They Now, Together

  Pure Legend Become!—

            ~

And Their Beautiful Bond

  Will Never Grow Old—

Their Perennial Song

  Passed down and Told

            ~

By All who Knew

  And who Wish to Know

About These Two—

  The Sun, & The Shadow.

Vous Et Nul Autre

 Vous Et Nul Autre

       —Three—

A Heart in Chains

Is the Greatest Pain

That Any Living Thing can Feel

            ~

And once it's Felt

There is Nothing else

That matters or is even Real—

            ~

For All Other Things

Fade Quickly Away

From the Attention of the Mind

            ~

And Now We See—

Like the very First Time—

Ahead, instead of Behind—

            ~

For Before these Walls

There were no Chambers

Locked, or even Closed—

            ~

And Now the Sky

Falls in Through Light

Passing Through Their Windows—

            ~

It Wakes Our Soul

To a Morning, New—

To Body, and to Mind—

            ~

And Now the Day

Is Tortured by

A Night, that would Define

            ~

The Meaning of 

All We Know

Or Thought we ever Knew—

            ~

The Beginning of,

Or Ending of

The World—

for It,   is You.

The New Bedford Harbor

 

Seagulls and their Ancient Song—
Waves too Old to Remember—

Ships at Rest—Immortal Sway—

As Cobblestones Surrender.

The Oldest Structures now Belong

To History—and their Fate—

As Architecture of the Past

Necessitates—

And in the Night—an Evening Shimmers

Upon the Whaler's Harbor—

Distance still Defining Measure

One Century, from Another—

A Ship Sails In—with its Prize—

The City Builds Applause—

A Day Embossed—Onto Time—

Subject, to Harbor's Cause

The Mansion

 

What will come of these Precious Hours?—

And Thoughts too Fast to Stop?—

The afternoon Slips Back—and Away—

Toward the ringing of the Tower Clock—

The Moments much too Large to Handle

With a Simple, single Line—

But could a Verse, attempt Untangle

The Importance of this Time?—

It's Balled up in a Rap of Knots—

Emotions—Out of Line—

What could Decipher Destined Endeavour

And Distill it into Rhyme?—

What sort of Angel need Descend

Upon this Heart Inspired?—

So that a Mind can Comprehend

Exactly what it Admires?—

—Her Ghost—is Here—in these Shadows

Slanting across the Lawn—

But will this Dream last past the Hours

Of Tomorrow's Sober Dawn?—

—A Smile—Erupts—a Chill—Descends—

Down this crouching Spine—

Words Spill out—the Top is Gone

From this Head of mine.*

*From this Disk of Time.

 An Angel & a Hero take a Walk on a Beach

                             (Vous Et Nul Autre)

I waited so long,

  I forgot what for—

My Heartbeat slowed by the Weight of Time—

Then one Summer Day,

  An Angel passed—

She stopped & turned Her Heart to Mine—

Empathetic and Wise,

  She Held my Soul

In Her delicate, Careful Hands—

And now my Heart,

  Beats as it should—

Perhaps the Encounter was Planned...

For I had Wandered,

  Far off the Course—

Not even wondering Why!—

And Now, it seems,

  I was not Lost—

Only Called, to an Angel's Side—

For what She Wanted,

  I had Plenty—

A Resource long Forgotten—

And Our Exchange,

  Became The Gain:

Our Beach, now had its Ocean.

Whiskey & Gold

 ...from:
        Bedtime Rhymes & Nursery Songs

     Legends & Myths, Dreams gone Wrong

                     "Whiskey & Gold"

There once was a guy who lived on a couch

  He hadn't a Job, and was always a grouch!

He'd start each day by downing a beer

  And once it kicked in, everything was Clear.

He'd put on his shoes and walk out the Door

  Every day about noon,—no idea what for

But he'd have a few shots at the Pelican Pub

  Then pawn a guitar for a bottle and grub.

A Dreamer by night, a drinker by day

  He never really ever had anything to say

It was all written down in his unpublished book

  Which he never showed anyone cuz everyone's a crook!

But then one day he fancied a Dollar

  He still had a number, so he gave 'em a holler

A publisher he knew,—an absolute idiot!

  But they had a contract, he grimaced & signed it.

His words went to press and many did try

  To enjoy them but instead would break down and cry

For the words were a mirror into everyone's Heart

  And this was the drunkard's most notable art.

To understand the maniacal composition of Word

  The reader themselves, reluctantly endured

Many became angry, unfurled, and fierce

  For an arrow so blunt their world to pierce!

And he went to the City and bathed in its lights

  His Picture was taken and he got lots of likes

He practiced his Signature at the opening and signing

  He worked on his Posture while wining and dining.

With the Kings of Society he practiced his dignity

  And in all of the glory, he saw Infinity

He saw the End, with Beginning still happening

  And he saw fulfillment with each glass's emptying. 

But as the train of Potential depleted its steam

  Sales began to dwindle, and reviews grew mean

His Crown was removed and not given back

  See you can't really gain what you didn't really lack.

And back at the Pub, everyone was glad

  For he Tried though he failed, like so many had

He was back with the Rats, on his throne of old

  Still without a Dollar, but a Heart of Gold.

The Divine Transaction

           The Divine Transaction

To Catch the Attention of an Eye

   Is to Live Within the Hidden Mind

Of Universal Form—Defined

   By that which Is—Beyond Design.

                            ~

And those of Us with whom the Eye

   Belongs, can Choose how to Proceed—

Fundamental Desire can Never Die—

   But Can We Fulfill a Righteous Need?—

                            ~

To Convey, Express, or Perfect Make—

   To Grant Ourselves our Secret Wish—

The Art is there for Us to Take

   And Give Back, More than was Made.

Automatic Destruction (we are the Star of our own Show)

Lay down the rails of iron

   Gut the land for coal

Pray the Locomotion

   Does not run past the Goal—

Collect the latent ions

   From the atmosphere

Hope the Monster relies on

   Intentions in the clear—

Arrange the zero, & the one

   Into intricate patterns

Watch these figure out the Gun

   And Drown us in our taverns—

Automation made the current Way

   Producing entertainment—

Asleep, we go about our day

   Oblivious to our Confinement—

If only we had a little more time

   We could Sew up our mistakes

And See Beyond this little rhyme

   The future, & the stakes—

The Fire we started—probably too soon—

   Still Smoulders far Below—

Prometheus's Grave has been Consumed—

   To the Movies!—

          Off!—

                    we Go!—

The Mad Dream

 

            The Mad Dream

We are Building an Empire of Rest—

Deep, Dark, Peaceful & Sweet—

                      ...Sleep—

We've Lived—

through the Torrential Torments of Rimaud—

We've Seen the Divine Revelations of Blake—

We Have the Perception of Dickinson,

with the Patience of Death itself.

We Grieve, Bathe, and Take

from the Disgusting & Depraved world of Baudelaire—

Through the Disappointment & Anger 

of Bukowski,—we have Risen—

as what flows through our Veins

is no longer Blood,

but Acid.

We have Materialized Ephemeral Eternities—

into the Ethereal Spectrum of Dream.

Every Night we Live, and Live Again—

and every Morning we Desire—

More.—

Thus we Embody Nietzsche's Word—

The Eternal Recurrence is our Reality—

Chaotic and Beautiful, where there is no Pressure

to Perform nor Give—

but are Allowed to Observe—Freely—

without Judgement—

to Take, without Guilt—

to Forget, without Regret—

and to Remember, by Choice—

To not be in Control—but Allow—

That is the Highest Power...

So Pleasurable is this Acceptance—

our eyes stay closed in Ecstasy—

our minds Tuned only, to The Cosmic Soul—

now Singing loudly, in the Choir 

of the Underlying Matrix

of Everything.

The Cosmic Beast backs down—

its tail between its legs

at the Sound of our Song.

And as we pick only the Richest Fruit—

from the Forest of Everlasting Love—

from the Temporal Dying Tree—

and from the Transtemporal Temple—

they Thank us

     for our Desire

          to Overcome—

  

Castle In The Sky (epitaph for physical presence)

I'm building myself a Castle in the Sky

  Away from the Noise, closer to The Mind—

Above Grey Land, up in Harlequin Cloud

  Where Thoughts are Free to scream out loud—

Where a Haunted Mind, and a Hunted Heart

  Can Safely Indulge in their Boundless Art—

Where Leisure Releases Beauty from Chain

  And with every new Moon, it happens Again!—

A Cathedral of Words built in Hurricane Winds

  Where the largest of Birds will become our Friends

A Funeral for the World—we'll host and invite

  Absolutely no one, purely out of Spite!

And Words will Spill out, Consuming the Dance Floor

  The Pen never stopping,—always asking for More!

The Wings of our Friends spread wide and gliding—

  Eyes fully Open, and Dreams out of Hiding—

At the close of each evening, we'll cheers "once more!"

  From this, we shall never, tire nor bore!

Every Day—Renewed, and every Night—Imbued

  With the Magical Tactics of Stratospheric Hues.

  

                  Snapshot

An Image Holds one thousand Words

  Behind its Paper Fiction—

Within its Walls, one hundred Worlds

  Hide, from Gross Depiction.

A Glimpse of these, one may be Gifted

  Should one be Chosen to snap

A Shot at Seizing—All—at Once—

  A Chasm, Reduced to Crack—

If Layers Waiting, in Silent Suspension

  And Galaxies—Dimensions—Behind

Are Briefly Seen, & Given Attention—

  Attacked!—by an Enemy of Time.

  

The Perversion of Poetry is a Punishable Crime

  Its Abnormalities rather Disturbing

As we Converse throughout our Lives—

  Saying, Essentially, Nothing—

Through Internal fits of Anger—Tired—

  We Scorn—our Inabilities

To Communicate our Soul—Desires

  Into the Void—Infinity—

It Stares us Down and Mocks our Frown—

  It Laughs when we are Crying—

And All along—The Poet's Silence

  Makes All Aware—It's Trying—

Diplomacy,—too Ordinary—

  And Peripheral Conversation—

Small-talk in the Smallest Town

  Is the Poet's Fornication—

As Buried Words from Underneath

  Surface—Without Dictation—

These—that Speak—as we—Cannot—

  Arrest—and Demand Attention—

In Silent Prison—we can Finally See—

  Ourselves—In the Broken Glass—

We Torch ourselves in our own Hell—

  Praying—it doesn't Last—

And in the Intervals—In-between—

  We Learn to Love—Ourselves—

And All the things—we Never Say—

  Ring Loud—as Morning Bells.

  

From the Page to the Grave the Poet goes—

  Through Hidden Doors & Sketchbook Windows.

We See them in Words, we know them?—No!—

  They've Built the World, may we be Shadow.

As Celestial things, have Given Before,

  Now Earthly things, must Endure

The Tragic Job, of Cultivating

  A Seed, Resisting, its Placement.

How It Will End/How It's Ending

    How It Will End/How It's Ending

The amber lights of our tired factories

  Still dimly aglow out of foggy Habit

As society fades away into reclusive silence

  Out of sheer boredom and Loss of direction,

There's a slow simmer of discontent

  Bubbling up from the Underground—

The vapours waft in our general direction

  As we obliviously, breathe, and Sigh—

Hopelessly shapeless, blindingly transparent

  And motionless without Location—

It transforms, slowly, slyly sneaking

  Into everyone's homes and minds—

Uninvited, it enters our conversations

  Distorting our Natural expressions—

It is everything that came before us, Here

  It's the Nothing, we see, for miles—

It's everything failing, gradually, in Secret—

  With no evident, definitive cause—

No explosions, no crash, no obvious drama

  To fuel some chaotic frenzy—

No!—Just wind—blank stares—evasions—

  Smoke, with nothing to say—

Yes This is how the world is ending

  With none of the Doomsday Prophecies—

No Armageddon, no famine, no world war three

  Just This, and these insipid words—

The Clocks do not keep Time for Us—

  The Clocks, tick to wind down...

No roving mobs, no violent Revolutions—

  We've Lost the desire to fight or dream—

Religion is dead and the shrinks out of work

  For Sanity has lost its appeal.

Warehouses bulge with our Broken hopes

  Our futile inventions sputter and quit

Nuclear reactors Squat safely in silence

  And Zombies have nothing to eat—

The Ending is an Abyss we freefall into—

  It's a thief in the night while everyone Sleeps—

It's the thoughts that you Had,

  When She sat down beside you—

But were Lost in the Moment's Excited Escape—

          

Happy Hour

One dollar off your Inherited Misery!

  Two dollar shots of Instant Happiness!

City-wide specials offering everyone Hope

  For Society's Sobriety and loss of Faith!

                            ~

So call in Sick!—Invite your friends!

  Open a tab and Close the Past!

Turn down the Clock as it All Begins!

  Believe, believe!—the Hour will Last!

                            ~

Choose a favourite Song, and hit repeat!

  Convince, persuade all those who Doubt!

Let Confidence in the Economy Inspire All

  To get a fifth! a sixth!—a seventh round!

                            ~

A mini-Vacation of Intoxication!—

  Is waiting for You every day of the week!

Right Here is where your Failures can Dance

  Right off the Plank of Heaven's Cloud!

                            ~

And Lose yourself in Shameless Laughter!

  Dizzy yourself in Conversation!—

Tell it All!—like it Never, ever was!—

  And You, will Become, a God!

                            ~

And Fall back into the Softer Light—

  The Sun will soon be Down—

Alcohol!—Darkness!—has lifted the Weight

  Out of your Sunburnt Frown!

                            ~

Chaos holds the Controls Tonight!—

  Torrential Pours of Golden Beer!—

All is Beauty through an Emptied Glass!—

  In this Rythm Lies Finite Perfection!

                            ~

Yes!—let the Angels pour you More!—

  But remember to Never Gaze Within!

For Behind the Eyes of any one of us

  The Devil is Dancing in Another's Skin!

                            ~

And watch the Magic Fall from the Taps—

  Only with Poison are we Born Again!—

And there is no Shame nor anyone to Blame

  For Here, we've Drowned out Sin!

                            ~

And the Night is Young!—so let it Ride!—

  Last Call Waits for us like a Fever—

From Time-Drawn Sicknesses we naturally Hide

  But in the Hour, Lies, Forever—