running from time outside
chased by ruin and stain
deep a vault secrets
tell of themselves
two lights we are
far apart unexplained
Horus sees his eyes
in our face looking
inward by the outward pull
in our face looking
Spirituality
a hora da voz
eu ouço minha voz e me ajude a ouvir as vozes de toda a humanidade
broken sailor
Leonard sang of Him a broken sailor.
a sheppard in a foreign land long lost.
me a foreigner in my own iced soul.
always stomping on black soften thin ice.
wondering if He and me have thin soles.
and if we were Him would we get thorny crowns.
or would the thorns on our sides be our heads.
He stands there watching for eternity.
the state of my people eternal too?
for bread is not enough we need love too.
will You come to us on earthly matters.
at some point we’ve become judges all here.
the court of man is densely packed with noise.
Leonard sang of Him a broken sailor.
the therapy tray
you have now become
my comfort fire and scent
watching prayers float
the sun and the crucifixes
full of promise
sun falls upon hard city street
downtown day full of promise
and to think that we live
between final numbers
and fleeting tantric dreams
enochian LA
through my fingers they speak
flutter swiftly laughing
translucent and sometimes wicked dark
nonsense to me or you
yet in my dreams
the tomes of history explored
poured out the morning after
through my crooked fingers scrawled
closed door haiku
a soft sorrow falls
doors closed as dying eyes would
no wreath or flower
words less spoken 