like a million pieces

I have to prepare your bed
for your late arrival
in a thousand years I will feel your light
will let it pass my way
not stopping to chat
just walking away
towards the sun to say goodbye
and the air inside is chilly
so clap your hands silly till they fall off
like ships off cliffs and and noisy crick-ets with paper rimmed glasses
and ants crawl on molasses
safely tickle my back and you can't take it back
an apology makes no thing right
justify your fears in the face of my almighty being

I feel like I'm talking to myself
with a bowl of Chinese
and a head like balloons
a couple of squares on my pants
like peanut, jelly, there goes France
go play some tag or capture Flags
stomp the shores and tell me jokes
some boys like girls
some girls like honey
rivers, steam and lots of money
I losing sleep
embedded teeth
lots of lollis make me weepy

tin hats love to melt on the surface of the sun

I'd never experienced rejection like this. For years I had simply loved the person I was with to the fullest extent of my capabilities, years of fidelity and rejection of my ego, my desires. Where childhood daydreams kept me locked away day after day, isolated, rejecting those around me for lacking everything I needed. As an adult it is painfully clear that my love will never be equally exchanged and loneliness seems to be the one constant. However, I still wake up with an intense need to give; time, care, food, warmth, touch, conversation.

So yes I love all the people that love me. But most of all I love all the people and things that hurt me and make me question and change me and shake me out of my occasional stupors.

Rejection, not a reverse ejection, a non-erection, going in the wrong direction, with perfect diction I was told that there was no love for me inside of him for him to share meant to use up the last drops of emotion at the bottom of his heart's well. He could possibly die if he loved me. He could wither away into dust from past sorrows and hate that had dried up all of his tears.

perfection like a soft palm on my face and a walk through the land that cradles me.
time spent together laughing and holding your hand baking you a pie. caressing my hair and the natural stares in my direction.

Yes, its deep out there, deep enough to get us through, to satisfy our thirst and cleanse our souls and wash away our fears. But you quenched me when I cried out, the only way you could. Selfishly though, for both of us our meeting hearts don't beat like they used to anymore.

a trip of peanut brit

Mr. wonder make me drowsy enough to sleep and dance, then walk away so fancy pants
heard that eye full of glass and voices like light beam tractor seams
retractable seats stacked high in mass with lonely hearts and lungs
Mr. Non-baby you wonder to seem lonely
wandering through those steamy scenes behind fake trees
you start to feel creamy and sometimes deliriously cry
out for the horses, cows, mask avenger knights. fairly fairy furry worms
yet again its non of my concern to fight
to like flutes on stereo
or fools who ask for special plain jane anything
and nothing somewhere now is leading to almost a quarter mile out to anywhere, then
my half
my whole
my taste, a waste full of teardrops
full of joy
full of lightning bugs
in case you hear my voice let it land next to you
let it stand beside you
and let it find its way back slowly
towards equal steps away from you, let it walk back into me.

Sunny breeze dun took me away.

Landing back in Brooklyn feels lonely and very much like a family reunion smooshed all in one. I hugged my bike, breathed in the air, saw the sunrise from my apt and don't want to ever neglect my home as much as I have done so far this summer. However, I did get to see some amazing music much of which i would not have done had I not taken this crazy tour/job. Google the concert lists for ALLGOOD and ROTHBURY FESTS after you finish reading.

Back to what I want and need to say about all my life scenarios. I can make around 400 plans that might or might not become actual events in the course of the day.

1. New Band = [Carl Sagan and the Spacehsip of the Imagination] this is happening as we speak. As research I have spent the last week listening to Coast to Coast radio, where people dial in to explain their supernatural and extra terrestrial encounters over the radio. The mind is swirling and I think I have to re-read my golden ratio book, the bible, book of the dead, tarot, and watch some Jodorowsky. I will attempt to add up years of sponging and drip it all over a couple of music and visual canvases. Sooner than soon.

2. Shows and writing sessions with Teta before she leaves for Italy :-( She has been an amazing friend in only a short span of time. thank god for psychic Pisces in my life. Her and I will soon be ruling a world near you.

3. Bard sneak peek this Sunday. I am very excited to check out my friend's hard work and really check out what all the fuss is about AND yes, I will possibly commit myself to applying there for the MFA program next summer. Me gets tingly feeling in my feet.

4. August looks promising for the music recording. I am rounding up the troops and will fling myself into some serious work hours and churn out something artistically cohesive.

5. John cage recordings also happening in august.

6. Finish my t-shirt line for YBBS!

7. Frame my small drawings, which will go on sale shortly.

8. Eat brightly colored cereal with The Wild Yaks a homoerotosapien testosteroni mash of brilliance http://www.myspace.com/boyhoodforever