I love like a Titan

For you I would break the sky in two.

I'd leave the first half hanging there like a shattered egg

bleeding orange sunsets and dead stars.

the other half I would fold down until it was small

and give it to you with my heart

rent from my chest and still drumming .

I will crumple and discard the face of time 

so were never burdened by the gravity of age.

If that isn't enough I'll raise mountains

breath hurricanes and tornadoes whispering your name

create a million beautiful flowers just for you.

Until you say you love me

until it is true

I will paint Chaos Across the earth

each act a loving portrait of you.

Woe my Country

                                             
Woe to the sunset and it's withering flame
To the cloaked sky and the yellow grass pleading,"rain."
Woe to rusty cars with busted out headlights 

stalking the road like pirate panthers. 
To the lonely dreamers idled by a cool breeze 

in this forsaken summer.

To the madmen who lose themselves in empty towns 

listening to the far off bark of a hound someone didn't feed today. 
Woe to the defunct American dream that deflated 

like a hot air balloon and fell here 

next to a Chevy that hasn't started since 82. 

To the broken down truck drivers 

who chanced leaving the interstate for a warm meal 

but ended up behind the circle k buying meth. 

Woe to the wishes that are blown by the wind to my doorstep 

to the poor souls who think I can help them.

Facilis Descensus Averno (the way to hell is easy)

I contemplated Responsibility

when the drunken sophomores pushed

the play structure into the bonfire

in the back field.

It was like being only a witness

to a siege, watching and wondering when

the walls would break.

Now the broken tower slumps sideways,

one foot in, with the swings resting

over the rising flames.

Rubber-black smoke drifts up

Stings the sky, and a senior shouts,

“pull it out,

                turn it the other way,

                                You idiots!”
He turns to me and points. Unhinged

by sobriety and displacement,

I am a virtuous goon in a field of delinquents.

I push through the bystanders and skunk

smog toward the defunct flames.

I grab for a still cold cedar beam,

root my feet into the ground

and pull, remember the origins

of my blood, sinew, and bone.

Titans and siege breakers together

We twist and push, tossing away the chains

of the singed and toxic swings.

I stand back to breath and think

out loud to no one, There is a right way

 to burn a city. I walk toward the dark

back porch of the house when I hear the sirens.

Nothing is left behind but a smoldering ruin

and hurriedly discarded bottles near the shed

on the neighbors side of the fence.

I think it was maybe the devil in me

that placed such an idea into the flock,

and I contemplate responsibility.

Cerulean Thoughts

My Tongue remembers
the taste of Blue glass
sipped in spring shadows.

In that Neighborhood,
the fourth move of seven,
we made swords out of sticks.

My friends and I got lost in the greenbelt
looking for newts
and maybe dragons.

Our parents worried red
when we return –after dusk
to shadowed cul-de-sacs.

In our fort near the creek,
we talked about girls,
and what we knew of being men.
           
In summer by meager flames,
I would tell spine-tingling ghost stories
that we were young enough to believe.

Tectonics shifted when I moved.
At ten, miles feel like light-years,too far.
Now, I wonder what kind of men they are.

I look away from the spirit bottle 
turned lapis lazuli by dust and time,
murmuring memories into my dark attic.

Breaking 101

Don’t tell me that I haven’t been where you are

Boo-hoo broken heart babble

We have all been there jackass

                                                Most of us

Stop complaining and do what We do

Go out

            Get drunk

                        Sleep around

No, fuck everything

                        Be a jackrabbit

Disappoint your friends

Your parents

Debase that last good part of you

Move twice

Wreck your car

            Yourself

Burn something (because it feels good)

Burn herbs and inhale them

When you’re up there

Tinkering in your head

Remember to tip toe

Be an exhibitionist

                        Scare people

 Scare yourself

Join the military

Deny when they ask if you inhaled (every time)

            Then keep lying

                        Make your friends lie

                        Remind them how truth hurts

Hurts you like when she didn’t love you back

Drink more; deny more (you don’t have a problem)

Turn out your guts in a bowl

            Drink until your face is numb

                        Until everything spins

                        Until you almost forget

Quit smoking

                    Pack your shit up

Pile what you can’t take somewhere dark

Hide your pain

                        Keep drinking

Fake smiles when you say goodbye

Pretend you’re happy to be leaving

            Train yourself to not care

Come back to me

                        Look me in the eyes

Tell me again I don’t know how it feels

            Like a good friend

I bear your bullshit

                        And love you more

                        When you hate yourself

           

Where the cliff ends

The waves rush forward in wide blooms Kicking upward white pollen.
The cold dark blue hurtling against the grainy flesh of earth.
How could such an aggressive presence look so inviting.
Even the more resistant of stones find themselves broken here.
At the shore. Two worlds meet.
Fate is speechless at the inevitability of it all.
We are all stuck here, now we decide-
To sink or swim

Untitled

It's running in mud
Talking like Elmer Fudd
brain is putty
in a rut and keep slipping
And tripping on the drip drops
The small tears of bullshit
Barriers that keep us under bullet
Sitting in fear at red light stops
In the dark untying knots and ripping
Scars from the knife cutts
Silenced by blood
It's being the last bullet, but being a dud.

E Pluribus Unum

E pluribus unum

Taxes piled up
Grateful patriots grinning
An illusion made solid in blind faith
The war doesn't touch our beaches
That storm is elsewhere but the blue angels still roar in our skies.
The news stations gleam freedom and happiness for all, but the streets tell a different story.
The unclothed, unfed, unworked masses stand in the street and cry out at injustice.
Their echo's silenced by the ever turning cog of industry.
Our boys retuned from the desert surcomb to a insatiable thirst and wake from tremorsus nightmares  in the sole comfort and silent regret that they defended freedom.
They are victims too.

Out of many one

What does it really mean ?
Are the wonders of the world not drenched with the blood of slaves ?
The staircases of kings are the backs of poupers.

Out of many people one may live happy
Out of many families one should be strong.
Out of many  colors one is found better
Out of many nations one remains guiltless
Out of many masses one will survive

We can make a better world
Out of many efforts
One creation
One thought
One dream

little thought

Sitting in the bliss of an endless smile
I exhale the untainted morning air
Listening to calm ballads from a black box glued to the table
Around me on all walls the framed images of my life,
the last two decades
and the sun of summer on a golden beaches.
 In this moment I'm just happy to be here, alive.
And love that what happens next is still a mystery.

A tale of Two travelers, and the storm they brought.

Disgraced swine of pure reason,
hast thou fallen downward into the slippery pit of doubt?
O dearest friend, let me recount for thee then
the tale of two travelers seeking shelter in the night.
Thousand doors knocked, thousand doors locked and lightning bolted
Yet one , though meager one hut  had received, lock-less and poor.
A feast fit for paupers and for kings presented therein,
bowl of endless wine ignored, small miracles unnoticed not long.
The travelers take truest form with blinding conviction
from mountaintop they cast the ocean, and the fair valley blooms into a swamp.
The generous couple, broken down by time, is granted a single wish,
and like that--
the wrath of one hand is calmed by the kindness of the other.
Where a simple shack of matted grass and sticks once stood
rooted pale marble column sprouts into  gilded temple.
This I remember clear when you seem to have forgot what you hold dear.
The joints of two trees  together entwined their stiffened fingers
given grace beyond death, a reward for simple hospitality.
Last words breathed between souls transfigured
"goodbye my. . ."
Indeed the Gods wrath is only equaled by their kindness.

College apartment

This place is that kind of old

Your parents think is new.

And like them it has wrinkles and scars.

It has that amount of wear and tear

Some realtors call charm

“Lived in”

The carpet is almost shag length

Pumpkin pie orange

Or baby puke green.

The walls are stained in weird places.

There are picture frame shadows on the stairs.

Sink kind of works

And shower kind of dribbles.

Every cupboard, window, and door

SQUEEEEKS, Grinds, or Slams

From the tiptoe of a breeze.

This place has the stagnant Oder

That reminds you of your great grandma’s house,

After she passed.

What you might not notice is,

You are not new or special to this place.

You are a parasite,

A temporary barnacle.

You might not stay long at all,

But you will add to its truth,

Your mess will be its cosmetic disaster.

You will spill your Coolade all over the linoleum.

Leave furniture dents in the carpet

And bed post scars on the walls.

Overtime it will forget you,

Remodel or maybe burn down to nothingness and rock.

But you won’t forget this small smelly sarcophagus of a rental place.

You will study in it, fight your roommate about it, and cry over an x in it.

Change your major 1-2-3-4 times here.

Sit thinking how grateful you are for the shitty roof that creaks

Laugh and wrestle and dance at 3 Am between the thin walls.

For a moment at least you will appreciate the spongy warmth

Of that disgusting shag carpet between your toes.

It’s your college apartment,

Your post dorm sanctuary.

You might hate your roommate for various reasons,

But they are only a footnote, a subtext, an afterthought

To this wondrous black mold- asbestos filled palace-

That at least a short amount of time you can call home.

And that’s something at least.

Sharpie on her door

Love you because it hurts
Everything you tear from me
the way you break me down
hate you because you give me hope
feel like I'm going to drown
Dragged me to the bottom
Babe I'v stuck around
I love you because I'm leaving you
and I'v never been so proud.

Oceans away

In remembrance of good things
I reflect in the tiny waves
That crash between us
Washing us closer and further
The dust and silent song
It's a cold breeze I welcome
Rushing through my door
Sometimes pain eclipses joy
New beginning in mulch
I oaken myself and draw you in
Rooted in the flourish of mistakes
I seek solace with the catalysts
That drew us apart
And welcome the cold wind
The brutal atmosphere that ebbs
A path for us both
Disregard for the unlikelihood
Of crossing you again
I'll drop pebbles in
Hoping a ripple finds you

communing with crow near beach

The crow dropped a sea shell-
Normal in complexion,
Upon the wooden railing.
A trade of sorts-
Bread for unbroken beauty.
From it's perch,
High in the leafless Cliffdiving tree,
It gazes out into the frothy blue.
If it would have let me closer
I might have traded Words for silence
And for a time consoled in wiser wings
Than ever before.

where you going?

Around you film bends
Light on glass slipper
Golden lab scrambles
Chip bag crinkles
You're bubble boy forever
But it only kinda tickles

Walking turns to stumbling
Light begins its fade
Groggy morning coming
The game needs played

Still shot your ugly
A moment too funny
Angels roll the dice
But Demons get payed

Down here everyone flouts
You don't need to hide
Walrus got his oysters
Better enjoy the ride

Regret

It's that thing in your stomach
that makes you turn around
throw your head back and wince
bite your nails or grind your teeth
its a snake uncoiling within you
tastes like blood and bile at the back of your throat
poison in your blood
you would give anything for a second try
but that is always to much to ask for

Rebuilding eachother

Bare handed
I will pull up
All those fallen onto stone
Tables, blank and bare
Are souls never who touched
There. Laying foundation alone,
Brick by brick buildings
Be thrown, but not alone.
Forsake not thy low broken
Kin, nor the drop of a fell foe.
Recall a gruesome time when light
Prevailed between stoic rivals-
Salidin's aid to the lionheart
An echo in time of chivalry.
Keep the thought close friends.
Seek out hope,
Meditate on peace,
Realize the vision.
Together- brothers and sisters
We will build it
Brick by brick.

The smallest spark can

Take the smoke in
Because there is little thought left
When all air is toxic.
Swallow defiance because
What strength do you retain to struggle?
Do not holler behind your bars
Nor rattle your chains at your captors-
Because your annoyance
Will only ignite their brutality.
Hide your bruises with shame
Turn the other cheek
Again, and again, and again.
By all means-
Do not stand up
Do not speak out
Do not let injustice fill you with rage.
I dare you to beg for a freedom
You wont even fight for.


Its time to start something yourself
begin your revolution.

Pages before the Void

I pay for this in blood

Faust didn't get as good a deal
To be less than evil
And spin silver webs
Between innocent eardrums
Whilst I whisper of dreams
To the children counting sheep.
drive them forth with bedtime stories

Encouraging them to live tomorrow better

I pay for each word
In rich thick black blood
Scatterbrain scribbled page to page
Is the truth of me
The drift of a storm
The shaking reality
A spool of unwinding thread.

At the end of the day I pray
You will see the scars
 the bags under my eyes
And forgive me

for the truths I told

and lies I could no longer hold

Because I refuse to live in a world without dreamers

without Wonderland walking wishers

Without those brave enough to face the darkness-

to call in the dawn.

In my blood I will write

what is right-

Hope shall not die this night.

On the Throne

What a perfect place to die
In this ancient stoic seat
The world itself spinning out of control
Falling down on me
A fallen hero
Grace rid shepherd of the lost
What lyre could I pluck
To wind a song of worse luck
Where else would my journey end
 but here ?
This really stinks
It makes me feel sick
I'm too old and fat and meak
To carry the shield
And defend the weak
Maybe I'll find that land I once sought
And the grace I knew it would give to me
What a place to fall
This lonely cold chair
If I'm gonna die anywhere
It might as well be here.
Cheers.

This cant be my world

This cannot be my world
a fishbowl upturned onto the flat of a table
the water slowly seeping out
all the fish broken into panic
no
   no
       again no
not my world

I feel like a toddler on a trike who just ran into a wall
that he had never known existed ever before
that kind of realization
                                  crushes
I cant go on here
                         I need a way out
                       no
a way in
            to my world
a place where everyone is different
and barriers don't break my path
                                                  every time daylight breaks
someday I will get there
                                    until then I suppose
I'll just pace the cage.

growupt

My hands are stained with the ash I sweeped from your brow
Smelling the sulfur bloom on the horizon
The Shadow clouds sprinkling a black-pepper rain
I try to make my hands into an umbrella over your head
And rush you inside, to watch the mountain break.

6 word short 1

full of pain
Find a rock

Watching penguins

What were you thinking
When you wrote "This is not your wall"
On the side of that old bridge 
Where we first thought of flying
Why we  never tried, I don't know
Origami birds that never found a home

The road we are warned about

"Do not  follow"
Written in sidewalk chalk
Next to a crude arrow and another
stretching out of sight
"well I am goin to follow them
anyway probably a treasure at
the end"
"yeah a fucking pot of gold
 with a leprechaun sitting on top"
"well?"
"lets go"
And the adventure began
In crawling steps.