coming out from the
wilderness to witness sky
pewters and silvers God’s
reaching to me i
hear a broken whisper
sliding down the rays
of blessed light night
waiting to spread her
wings over the trees
that will house His
knowledge gifted to us
DTLA Skid Row
dying between closing arguments
luck
smitten
with few steps
happy with the
choices i have made they belong to me
unpopular turns delinquent alike
options were mine
judgmental
endings
are
just
that my
conviction
is steady all
ready to go come the wave of infernal
positioned to strike with white hot venom
for mercy and
dripping with
bloody
hand
dissecting the Geneva Convention
the summer is what it is here
the humidity clinging to my tired skin
like a crazy 50’s t.v. wife mockery
on Wall there’s the law and then there’s us
each side with glaring mutual understanding
that nothing is being done
no longer angels no longer devils
Gods gone fishing and they won’t be coming back
the species of Adam failed to keep their end of the
Covenant with Noah and Jesus holy shit what have we done
in life there is reason and there’s law
inside the soul there is right and there is wrong
inside the ego all is mine and nothing yours
on Koehler there is a man who doesn’t know he suffers
the fear he knows not himself prisoner of
the bio-hazardous ecosystem freedom gone awry
the filth the human shit the rage the insanity disease
the pain addiction poverty starvation piss trash
tears the waste of modern time
no longer get through the stains of a life
poorly lived or sorely wasted no logic
no feelings no rhyming no Kingdom will come
betwixt the cardboard and the shelter
the damage has been done
wage on me wage your wars
indifference is your nuclear weapon
not…alone
the pineapple stand is gone and three more tents sprouted last night she she she with two elders coughing i float above the tar but every now and again there in the crack on the corner near where the ancient fault line is grows a dandelion an astronomical seven inches tall i know he answers little girl you got a quarter you like the flower the rain gutter waters it see drip drip i see sir here is a bottle of water and a gift card to Quiznos all i can spare oh no i need money oh God bless you child anyway you too sir then the dream turns harsh cloudy i can’t get to my car and the wheelchair i’m trapped in gets hit by a truck the spine snaps i wake screaming my neck gets caught on a ring of Saturn i’ve grown accustomed to my good fortunes heart thumping i look at my hands in the dark no one’s there so i hug on tightly to the blessing in my dream
SoCS badge by Pamela, at https://achronicalofhope.com/
middle c
when the dirt on my shoes
starts to click the pavement
i go to the park
pray to the squirrels
bow to the trashcan
gambling that at the bottom
will be a half eaten idea
that i can sell
when the anger in my soul
starts to pound out my heart
i go to that tent
beg to the man
bow to the pipe
give away the music in my bones
for a hope that i will stop the pain
when there is a nowhere and no rainbow
and my shadow trades places with me
i go in my head
get lost in the wave
of no way out symphonies
so i turn in for the day
to welcome in the tepid night
and wait for that clicking to begin
seventhirteen
and then the YHWH said I told
you so the vampires suck my mind clean but there is nothing that
the blue cannot repair when i get
the itch beyond repair the bones of rapture sidewalk dirty o hosanna mercy
my unto you split tongued brother me
thinks that behind all the churches Eve was framed pass the roller holy
shit i now see the world is
beautiful float float float among the brick the sign the pain the red
rider gives me a lift brother what
you say John it is i who is ugly pardon me sir i
am your mirror antiseptic dirty test don’t
beg in front of my cathedral go next door boy next door boy
next door the Buddhala idols clash with
the golden walls of mirage purpose Vegas you say i guess let’s get
away oh yes brothers yes the young
of evermore fodder for the dirty lust i must i trust i shall
be cleansed the flock will not be
taken Satan must not win but he would go play poker what you
say yes he can 7:13 ok roller
square dice baby pierce the bribes of common let the goat go to
the edge don’t let the innocent crumble
sonata for Tom Waits
no breeze only lights
blinking to a sad tempo
heads bowed its morning
silent warm sun up
notes are sober something’s up
maturity creeps
dawn’s hour moon comes
wisdom tied us together
passion made us one
number 48
scorched concrete broken bottles
bus fare not enough rain comes
huddle in the mass of 300 cots cries for help
a man is lost behind himself he now sees
in front of him are wading genteel lakes
his hands metaphorically cut off at the wrist
closing his eyes he dreams of hills
opening them again he seeks to seal a reality
that comes in colors mainly blues and blacks
his mind aloof with a potion of castles in a foreign land
where the weather is gentle and his feet kiss the sand
in the banks of a river holding the dusking sky
number 48 is called to sit at the chair
we don’t have room for you try back next week
he looks down and looks up again
out of the building to sidewalks of pain
three blocks from Wall street
the birds start to sing the river is placid
the hills are rolling skies are all yawning
the fire she roars inside of the castle a new king explores
Ma Joad’s great grand daughter
mud
coolness
green cricket
calls to the soul
primordial waste
spirit shredded woven
in the skin of the leper
i’ve become night hangs loosely poor
lacking luster my lady shoes not
good enough to walk the sidewalks of the
chosen fools who speed holiness away
my gown humble with the dirt of work
hands clasped in riot darkly hid
elbows turned upright gaping
for fluids of defeat
social sunshine glares
upon my lips
without a
tragic
face
try
mighty
sinner smile
at least look to
the west of Hope street
and the pillars under
the court house of the fake lights
at the steps of public health signs
and with divine encrusted begging
bowl nee five dollar coffee paper cup
we ask again tonight and through the day
for gentle rain across my face gone
away with sorrow full with blown
out stars gazing through the soul
of infant time and sin
seeped through secret holes
in skies hazy
with sanguine
guilty
stain
HAMP, unplugged
last night hope shone once
her dreams of home laid to waste
unlucky salt dash
*HAMP= The Home Affordable Modification Program (HAMP) is a government program introduced in 2009 to respond to the subprime mortgage crisis. (Wikipedia)
words less spoken 