dying leaf shivers
catching twilight’s frosty breath
dawn ushers promise
Inner Strength
lucky
your kiss makes me wait
then forever you vanish
the flowers will bloom
spread the WLS
f 34.1
she’s here again
my breath she
takes by force
fear her grip
my mind bending
soul hanging on
pulse pounding hard
tears all dry
moist hands shaking
thoughts race away
pupils open black
what is wrong
i silently ask
rituals mantras dissipate
falling into fog
again the silence
of spirit prevails
spread the WLS
into consideration
i write this to myself
because i don’t know about forgiveness
it hurts too much
to still have to bend that far back
in my secret life
i am the hatchet undertaker
bury hatchets under buried bodies Beth and Devereaux say
but for how much longer
life has passed me like birds
silently looking nowhere
only forward
wings rigid
pushing away
from the skies above my head
that bird super highway
and when i can tear my eyes from the smokey heavens
my feet tired as they are like lead can sense the cool soft caressing clover down beneath the holy patch of Earth
regret from my hatchet burial pulley
begs me to take into consideration that some hatchets transform into boomerangs too
spread the WLS
footnote beneath the tarpits
insomnia hello
i see you brought thoughts to me
gush into the head
fear primordial
followed me from Eden’s cast
with children untamed
the screaming screens light
canopy of lies oozing
sullying frail life
as you turn away
subtle twilight engulfs me
rebirth awaits there
spread the WLS
the state don’t
night-time the city groans the street she’s made of skin and bones metaphorical of course the trashcan luminaries glow come closer girl witness the yellow flames doing the mambo
the eye fixates on chewing gum chips greens reds blues and whites tanned by side walk bacteria to look like leather lockets
a lonely saxophone sticks out at 7th he sways low and high traffic its ventriloquist serious things do cross my mind not just my trivial troubles
electric gadget old time store shows moving pictures all day long but i think the state the state don’t own my color divisions revisions im fed 24/7 of multimillion dollar fist and knee hustling heroes of the people
the moon flipping me off the feet trudge through the tunnel’s mouth a dollar here a water box there three cups of coffee a Jesus pamphlet a drug lord stare the woman bleeding a call for help an argument here a stare down there and the toothless guys use purple flags to wipe their asses
the state the state you don’t own my color my truth is mine and we the we don’t really clash the state don’t own their color either
i earn my bread i pay my share to keep the oval circus going but so do they of every hue and be aware that shadiness comes in every tone from every corner of the globe machine don’t use those kids as fodder
i want to be who i was born to let the children go so state the state i feel your scorn but fuck you you’ll never own my color if polished sand ceilings or jealous sisters end my ascendance here at least i’ll die knowing i fought my way with opened eyes and steady brush to take the hands of everyone and paint the tinge of human love inside me
spread the WLS
the Son’s sepulchre i dreamt of
blizzard
of
thoughts
tapeworm
of
my
soul
what
now
take
steps
the
cave
awaits
spread the WLS
Magdalen
spread the WLS
all is possible
love knows no color
trees more tender than man’s heart
let’s open our minds
spread the WLS
available but not to you
your expectations wants demands tactics tricks and commands are just a mirage
i too can do unto others but i choose not to i am at the disposal of my mind heart and soul exclusively
i break barriers and ceilings with the ultra sonic boom of my love quietly in the middle of time and my shed tears turn into diamonds
from my breast i nourish innocents the army of all
with a turn of my fingers i knit the cloth to shield innocents from the darkness of your claws
words less spoken 