Saturday, September 25, 2010

6AM

DUSTY TABLETS OF SCRIPTURES OF THOUGHTS LOCKED AWAY DEEP IN A

WAREHOUSE.
COVERED IN CAMOUFLAGE NEVER TO BE SEEN.

AN OLD ARCHAIC UNDERGROUND WAREHOUSE STOCK PILED WITH FILE STORAGE

BOXES FILLED WITH UNWRITTEN LIFE.

CART PUSHERS LOOKING FOR THEIR BOX HIDDEN AND TUCKED AWAY IN VINES.
THE OLD GROWTH VINES DRAPE FROM THE RAFTERS CLUTCHING FERMENTED

GRAPES

THE BOXES

EDGES ARE STAINED YELLOW AND MURKY BROWN FROM LEACHING
MOISTURE SUCKING DRY THE THOUGHTS.
PAGES WITHERING AND WRINKLING TO EACH OTHER MELDING INK FROM ONE PAGE
TO THE NEXT.

A SPIRALING OLD AND RUSTY IRON

STAIRCASE TRAVELING ONLY DOWNWARD
BELOW WHERE ONLY ONE BOX RESTS ALONE.

A MAN STANDS GUARD.
ROBED IN BLACK FADED FROM TIME.
HIS BEARD DARK AND KNOTTED NATURALLY INTO BRAIDS.
FORGED METAL BANDS BRAIDED CIRCLING HIS UPPER ARMS AND A BLACK

FOREST OAK STAFF STANDS PERFECTLY UPRIGHT UNTOUCHED BY HIM.

HE HOVERS JUST MILLIMETERS OFF THE DIRT AND PEBBLE COVERED GROUND

SUSPENDED BY ONLY HIS MIND AND A THICK FOG ENCOMPASSES HIM.

HIS HANDS GLOW A DARK GREEN, HIS EYES STARE BLACK.
HE HAS PRAYED FOR THIS MOMENT, DESPERATION LEFT HIM EONS AGO WAITING

FOR HIM TO ARRIVE.

ABLE TO SEE WHAT IS NOT FORESEEABLE.
TOUCH WHAT IS INTANGIBLE.
SMELL WHAT IS ODORLESS.

HE BECKONS TO COME CLOSER, TO OPEN THE BOX.
HE GLIDES TO THE SIDE EFFORTLESSLY JUST BY THE MINDS WILL THAT TOLD HIM

TO DO SO.
THE LID STRUGGLES TO LIFT OPEN AS ITS APPROACHED.
LOST LOOSE PAGES ARE SUCKED IN FROM THE VACUUM.
CART PUSHERS HOLD ON TO VINES, TO THE METAL RACKS, THE IRON STAIRCASE, TO
KEEP FROM BEING SUCKED INTO OBLIVION.
GRAPES PELTING THEM IN THEIR FACES LEAVING STAINED PURPLE SMEARS ACROSS
THEIR FACES AND CLOTHES BLINDING THEM WITH AGED POISON.

THE FLOATING MANS BLACK ROBE STARTS TO GIVE INTO THE VORTEX BUT HIS

METAL BANDS KEEP IT AFFIXED AND IN PLACE.
THE COLOR OF HIS SKIN IS SUCKED FROM HIM INTO THE BOX FIRST AS THE LID
OPENS FURTHER.

METAL CARTS FLY DOWN AND AROUND HIM SLAMMING INTO THE BOX, WARPING

AND CRUSHING INTO THE NARROW OPENING.

PURE BLACKNESS IS THE ONLY THING VISIBLE FROM WITHIN.
SUCKING ALL LIGHT, ALL SOUND, EVERYTHING INTO THIS BOX.

THE LID STRUGGLES TO MOVE ANY FARTHER AND HIS STAFF NOW IS EVIDENT OF ITS

PURPOSE.
IT FITS JUST RIGHT INTO THE OPENING WITH ITS GLOW WIDENING THE GAP
FURTHER.

HEARTBEATS NO LONGER EXIST
BREATHS HAVE NO PLACE
VISION IS NO MORE

DRAINED AND WEAK THE MAN THRUSTS INTO THE BOX ONE FINAL TIME AND THE

LID DISINTEGRATES AND LIGHT EXPLODES EVERYWHERE.
ELECTRONS AND NEUTRONS RETURN TO THEIR RIGHTFUL PLACE IN SPACE.

SIGHT IS RESTORED INSTANTLY ONLY TO SEE NOTHING ONCE AGAIN.
SOUND IS REINCARNATED CONCENTRATED ON A HEARTBEAT STRONG ENOUGH TO

WAKE AND THE CEILING FAN IS ONLY SET TO LOW.
BED OF WATER MADE FROM AIR RISING UP TO REALIZE ITS ONLY 6 AM.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Mo Lachín

I walk through my mind stepping on the memories that thrust me now and then
Sometimes forgetting what steps I've taken and what steps I am going to take

A plethora of imaginable thoughts rush and flood me but my myriad of bricks keep me atop of the dangers

My crown peeks above the fog and tree tops from which evil hurls their shit  at me trying to stunt me

Thunder storms pound me and soak me to the bone trying to weaken me
Lightening strikes all around me creating craters, fallen trees, trying to slow me from reaching my top but I know I will make it

I know what awaits me. I know what calls out to me
I claw and crawl making my way past boulders and cliffs no man is worthy of

Gloom and doom become hope and happiness
Dark and storms become day and sunshine brightening my faith in that which I lost

Sun enters my heart as I reach the crest, the pinnacle of what is to be my life
My happiness

Friday, September 17, 2010

Sheep



FINGERS STAINED WITH TAINTED BLOOD POISONED BUY DIRTY MONEY

HEARTS RIPPED OUT BUY RAZORS LASHED FROM STEEL WHIPS
WOVEN WITH WINE AND WHISKEY
LACED WITH SKINS OF RATS

STOMACHS DRAWN THROUGH THE NAVELS OF INSANITY
LEACHING TOXIC WORDS UNDIGESTED BY NUBBY SOFT INCISORS

BLEEDING GUMS INGESTED TO COAT THE THROAT FOR THE TONGUE TO FOLLOW DOWN

A DOWNWARD SPIRAL INTO THE DEPTHS OF AN EMPTY STOMACH

ORGAN DONOR CARD SIMPLY READS YES PLEASE

PROSTHETIC LEGS REPLACE PHANTOM PAINS FROM FIRE
MELTING FLESH, BURNING HAIR UNABLE TO CURB THE CHILL AIR THAT SHOOTS ICE

SUBCUTANEOUSLY INTO THE SOUL

GLASS EGG SHELLS TEARING FEET CEASING AMBULATORY PROGRESS
INFINITE FORKS LAY IN THE ROAD SPEARED WITH BRAIN MATTER OF SHEEP

TOPLESS THREE ARMED UNIX ENSLAVED DROOLING ACID
LIPLESS TOOTHLESS DECAYED WALKING MATTER
PRAYING FOR DEATH THEIR ONLY REAL HOPE

Monday, September 13, 2010

Infiltration

Before vision broken, before fingers working, discovery of light was the first wonder.

Calmly awaiting my turn in line to be printed onto a new page. Such a small book yet enormous imagination.

Lands of free and chaotic miseries yet to be experienced. Wheels to turn that break flat into sneakers amongst shattered glass and hated personal holidays.

They coped and dealt with the confusion, frustrations, fears, and joys to eventually receive another page.

Hungary for knowledge and thirsty for pain that which is brought on selfishly like the best friend that doesn't speak.

Clouding judgment with acid rain pouring down on relations burning their trust down only to extinguish the flames of hurt with sorrow and guilt.

The first came and went like bees in the Fall. Bird flew South shortly there after betraying the wind and traveling with another.

I couldn't help but sting myself to wake up and see farther and beyond a wrinkle.

Realizing that in pages to come, others of the same would be printed with me.  

Early on the pages got worn, torn, used beyond understanding. Fading past from a blinded future. Smells trigger old ones and new memories become blinded before they are even born.

Destruction and assembly in mechanics kept me busy until a new and exciting tool was gifted. An element to perceive thoughts onto the pages. Intrusive, rude, and loving strokes of lead formed and told ages of time.

I remember running freely through the fields that had no name with showering droplets of water that was freedom then. No cares or thoughts of hurt.

Then, without warning, all ceased to exist. Time sped up and fun became faded. Forgotten to life and pavement where lessons were learned in a most demanding and costly way.

 

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Discovery

Some would rather hide and some would rather be seen. Trees. Tree trunks hide and leaves are shown. Protecting and sheltering the trunk. The first time the leaves mature they are constantly bombarded by their environment. Its war since birth but frontlines at maturity. Only 14 rings and a trees leaves fight off many attacks but lose some as well. Learning life in the process.

The privileges were there but the choice to make prospects and trauma were the decision of stupidity.

Life is learned.

Black and Blue awards, ribbons of fear and hate were no challenge. As right as nature, random but sensible.

Understanding where to go and what it would take to get there is often misleading and uncertain. Streets never curve the same way and there is always construction. Bridges pass by, some are burnt down, and some will be rebuilt better than before. Some bridges will never coexist again. Tethered to time by hopes and dreams and not reality is what will be the downfall.

Greed.

Come into play, barter. Money. Big time.

A dream of flash and sparkles faded the twinkle of innocence into a dark sinful hater. Consequently, time speeds up again and all is lost through a white storm trampled by the horse that no one can ride. A black horse coming for one of you. Causing you to stare nothingness in the face with flashes of showering water droplets turning red. Holding the one you can say you love comfortably until erased from your page can only be overturned by turning the page. Deep, rigid lines protrude for pages and chapter to come but it gets a little faded as the book goes on.

The dream of seeing them at your wedding or Childs graduation instantly becomes a memory that will never happen.

Pain and tears run far with no direction or compass. Mind travels blindly through fog searching for reason but reason is not around yet. Patience though because reason will show her face and you will kiss her lovingly. Traumatically taken from you time to time, reason will resurface with new additions and chapters of life for the book but do not erase them for memories cannot be undone. Besides, the eraser has been nervously chewed away and now the lead is a quarter gone. Time becomes precious and more valuable than ever. Serenity becomes a battle cry and sight has no place in the real world.

 

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Far Away Boy

I spent my life building this road to find love

Foundations built, destroyed

 

rebuilt

 

Blasting holes in mountains for tunnels as big as the hole in my heart

Dying to live

Fighting to survive

 

My love I did lose again

 

She lays in my arms in dreams and touch

Her hair and her lips I did touch

But now its replaced with the faint smell that is to bee my pillow

 

I walk down my road, feet tired and worn

Dragging tumble weeds that have more life than me

Not even a photograph I can see

 

As such would replace the memory of thee

A

A

 

Walk softly

They carry big sticks

 

Grow under them

Grow from them

 

You are not you to them

You are a number, another dollar

 

Waiting to be cashed in

Deposited into their pocket

The same pocket which late night pocket pool addresses their familiar booth of love

 

Reaping on our pitfalls, our demise

Bury us in their old shoe box

 

Forever under their feet

Cleaning their dirt with our bitten tongues

 

Walk softly

They carry big sticks

The River Scars

My scars though invisible run deep like a river etching its fate into a canyon

Running water never to cease carving its way deeper and deeper

 

Cutting its way to the endless point which is my heart

Taking away bits of me slowly, taunting death daily

 

Snapshots fading down with the murky water flooding dreams never to be

Plowing down old growth, sweeping away landscape changing paths of chaos

 

Waters edge becomes cliffs edge higher and higher

Dangling roots, broken branches patiently waiting to fall never to grow again

 

A lifetime in an instant

A lifetime in an instant

I miss the sound of your voice and the feel of your touch
More than life itself.

I can’t help but feel lost as much
With the thought of being by myself.

Awakening in the fields of Spring in a dream with you
Takes me to a place unforeseen, a story untold

Beyond a lifetime in an instant.

I look up to the moon and wonder why
He can’t be with the sun and worry for the stars

So I dry my eyes with my sleeve
That moistens my heart, not to cry.

My words silenced by my lips tasting a dream never to waken from
To only live for your instant and my lifetime.

Friday, September 10, 2010

8am


I jump up and catch it to sniff it again.

The thoughts of my brain in sleep still lingers like the funk that grew in my mouth overnight.

I must write these down before I fully awake.

The smell of stale coffee and cigarettes waft throughout the house which is waking up my senses reordering the arrangement of operations causing it to be the best part of waking up 

But I need to get these thoughts down.

My dogs collar shakes off the morning dew and his dog tags clank in his forest of fir that
shines with tri color fancy.

The pool pump runs like I'm sitting in the baggage claim and the sound of the jumbo jets
sneak up through the carriage and out with the baggage that will not be claimed.

I need to get these ideas down but I wipe my eyes from the sleep to only see what is always there.

A blank keyboard dried with the flakes of crusty eye poo fallen from my lashes that
kept out the nights bed bugs.

I stare at my keyboard but nothing comes out, its 8 am.

Cleanse Me

The rain will come one day

To wash away the decay from my heart

Needing to break out of my chest

It claws, ripping and tearing through

Needing light, sight

Insight which manifests from my minds sight

Transforming

Energy evolved

Spreading away and thin fading into darkness

Never to forget my hearts memory stored on the backs of broken dreams

Desire not which thy seeks

But to desire that which thy reaps

Heart tires of weeping, tires from pain

Heavy and sinking that which I built to keep afloat