holy lonesomeness
let’s not make love tonight
i’m so tired and i want to
go to sleep
Mental Health Crisis
Gehenna
i lived another day in you to drown
and what is here before me drowns again
your buildings fall under my feet and birds
flock in this eve of raging guideless light
i love you in my bones to beg for luck
and mercy from a god or anyone
who finds my deadly skin on the edges
of confusion upon the deserts of the found
Jim Morrison moon
quiet is the street i
walk tonight
the lights are all at ease
Casa Blanca star lit sky
with Jim Morrison moon above me
i can’t feel my
presence
in your melancholy
leave
i can’t feel my pull
in your unfathomable rejection
the river tides are
crawling by
in this wilderness of roads
the boulevard is void of sparkle
in the mind a church bell booms
in the highest of
these jagged hills
the madness of my love sick dreams contours
slipping into the wicked ground
under the throbbing
quiet
Beaudry hosts a
saxophone
Bixel lies ahead in candle light
i’ve turned this corner every day
for many needs and wrongs
all to find nothing
without any cause
phi
fire
powder
soot blind
in city smog
machines west bound fast pace
in a slow sacrificial lane to an edge
where do my brothers stand and do my sisters still weep for
what?
i an old child raised on Hollywood schemes TV land and reruns
nursed on bitter milk of a fork tongued script
raised by bumper sticker testament as the spirit and the law
mingles between tithes and taxes Lord and Caesar bedfellows
of the host parking meter temples DMV vaticans bus bench
prayer ritual before dawn
re-issue of pedigree from the DSMV bible while marked on the
tender restless soul with the selective serotonin reuptake
inhibitor sigil
where do my sisters run and do my brothers still see what
for?
runway to the sunset where the wind rests
wings are made of gold
thoughts fly away
flicking grace
silent
ratios
wound
the layers disappear
on the pavement
of her soul
seconds go by and precious
life spills on leaving
opportunities and choices
there is little time in each quandary
before the bell rings and the
arrow picks a destination
sweet and bitter most of
all
through the soil
are the roots
and as they reach
the point of end
the layers are
healed
but she is not the same
bowing out
the electricity is shut
and gone forever.
the eyelid dried out;
no more light will filter.
and the laughter lost
in a cave far down from here.
time was not enough dowry
to change the unchangeable.
i must be content with
having failed.
i, with no wealth of any
particular blue bloodline
could not offer you
anything other than
what God saw fit.
in the chasm
of the voices, it does
not really matter.
don’t employ any foreboding
on dejected smiles.
Cain and the Trash Can
i think you are
wrong to stand in my
way. you seek to
destroy all that
is left in my brain.
i did kill a man
with blows from my hand.
fiercely to his bones
i ploughed.
i
ripped out his
soul and threw it away
in a tin not too much
unlike you. i own this
nirvana of concrete and pain.
i
watch all the sinners and i watch
all the saints on my
circadian treks. i am not lonely
in spite of my face for look
to my right there is my race.
unbeknown to them yet though
here i stand. they are nearing
the end of the bind.
soon
i will
usher them to this abysmal entry.
where your soul goes
and
the killing continues with the will
of their hand.
sermon
love analysis walk not today think no high loss death paleness cold worlds space out red rock left alone to live and go the cross road upside down fire take soul nourish climb to fall don’t go too field desert kill black thorny the rain dog to the river frustrated mouse to not turn around in blue the cheek has fallen blazing hades in the snow afar Tibet monkey fog tonight a kiss the fall into the mind around Saturn in the vision pantheon neon grey the gross frog lady bird dance in the buffalo crawl to the address in the summer soot the rot of hot music lung ruby in life around thorny ring to the kiss of the foot how the pod can canker the brain storm drain courage of stripe pink to stop not to yield asunder for flat and revolver to plead the clowns of agony of flower pause to burn the heart in line of love
her
the fat of the land has dried into grime
mere clots of spit and mire
under her instant foot in the vomit of the day
the sour milkiness of death’s redolence at night
grabbing at the air grabbing at the sights of
those who have always been there and those
who are to come
shifting in the seas of traffic lights
half-moon eyes bloody in the tides
of discarded discontent
the wind howls on the sills of justice
kissing painfully the wounds on her hand
as puckered resentful coins hiss at her disposition
the wheels of the gods grind on
and her island there waits
the laughing air and the scornful heat
injures her every pore; her pancaked gowns threadbare
smiling at the visions only seen by those who know
the devil and the angels roaming up and down the hill of somber perfection
host to condemnation of heavy hearted posts
vigilant to nothing
in the bell jars of our age
nothing ferments nothing grows
the heart in her breaks the barrier
knowing that she will see some light
the golden days have passed onto a future
waiting there like cats
old castles for her flowers and her stars
beauty melting unto asphalt
a stairway opens up with gems of cardboard
sprigs of wasted love litter her alcove
she lays her head to rest
a broadway revival
crawling, burnt with Holy Spirit at the foot
of the great Hall.
hot, no finger pointing
at the crossroad of the Elysian Dam
and that dusty quenchless sea.
fire, light unbearable
to those two brown eyes that hunger for voice.
an only champion
of beggar’s bowl and head lice cause.
circumstance only for
her lungs.
let the air flow in
as liberty swings too low to launch our mystic to truth.
He has told you,
now you listen.
inherit the earth underneath your nails,
and feed on recycled prayers,
while the horses gallop with broken hoof past the curfew of the silent night.
words less spoken 