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Ridgewood, New York, United States

Thursday, September 29, 2011


Today is first Today is first one time story with a fever I roam into the ether rock into my lover's arms The map is all confused...again money is all we lose...again taking what we choose...again one time story of the grand mind holy holy once find water to myself...again control it all abuse....again If misery you choose then baby.....guess...again guess... guess again......guess my fortune is set maybe, my glory formed how the eyes shine and grow Today is first We are all cold and crying dead and alive we fly in We are all left denying TodayToday To day.... (2x) We are all gold We are alien waves to sleep it in is ok

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

all made up

all made up
its hanging tirelessly like the smoke in your hair
those circulars around your eyes
pearled chomps, venomous teardrops
siren foaming at the mouth

I spit and it is all blood and bile I hear

what to take when the voices all harmonize to your ramblings?

I would eat all of your potatoes, gorge myself with your bowl of sustenance
were you to take my dear black hat away from me.
my wavering fingers draw a heart's scar that fill your emptiness

I spit and it is still dragon's blood I smell

but a spotlight in your chest
envious youth
push and pull on my dress

take hold young mistress, masters come in disguise as your motherly breasts

the two that sit in darkness know better, feel better bruise as easy as the apple

from the snake oh Eve you are not
from the lake, Lady you are not.

Hunger wolf, horny female
snarled darling sea cow
enough is enough but enough when you're dead

You will look for your head soon enough, inside my mirrored eye

Monday, September 19, 2011

death of a flower

the death of a flower is a path
crushed underfoot
leaves and grass
and crushing still packed fresh snow

I suppose the death of a flower would illumine,
outlast the darker anguish of living so close without its bloom.

Shaking leaves
and running waters
scorched earth
scarlet crimson

will within
when the poet walks amidst the fields of flower's dust
the death of a flower is a path to trace and wonder all at once
what gold gods we may become in slumber
what golden mermaids lie beneath the lust

So broken as to hide away from the light
so broken as to fall into a depth
to mine the word for shattered flowers
at once rebuild in tiny pieces what was fallen whole from the sky

Quick and dead are all that rest beyond pearled gates
behind the cross of choice we choose to follow
the tinman's grace without beet muscle
metal machines speaking in code

(I hide, I choke, I run)

I follow the tail of one too many mystic comets
imagining in them the sun

God's do welcome me in with gold dust wings
 I am bonded strength
enraptured light
forgotten traces of your wildness
delight in the flower
it will be erased
it will be devoured

Thursday, September 8, 2011