Old Memories Become New
Category: Writing and Poetry

the idiot bird dances
disrupting the wind
formations lost to chaotic fractals
marching orders become free-form jazz
in smoky blue clubs
where only children look on
in unabashed wonder
while pass by its open windows
eyes fixed on the sidewalk cracks

the idiot bird twist and turns
cartwheeling
flipping
a strange trapeze artist with no partner
content to trace sacred geometry
on its shared canvas
a circus of one
floating lions tamed
tightropes skimmed across
without a net
clown cars packed with empty surprises

and the tickets are free
as long as we can laugh like children
in the cotton embrace of clouds.

2:50 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

By it’s real name
Category: Writing and Poetry

sleep
a little longer before the day starts
it's still purple outside
bruised from a long night
wrap those blankets around yourself
tuck your chin to your chest
the rush is for other people
ones content making the wheels spin
we don't hurry
just stay in bed staring at the ceiling
seeing mountain ranges and canyons
in faded paint

the sun still shines when the clouds are out,
and what we see is real
even when our eyes are closed.

6:44 PM - 16 Comments - 30 Kudos - Add Comment

An Evening of Sunshine
Category: Writing and Poetry

a prize promised
a smile hiding a clenched jaw
eyes with no emotion
a child being led into the woods
a bride left at the altar
a cold meal straight from the oven
a blues progression with no resolution
a war without end
a world without pity
cancer digging in its claws
a mother with a stillborn child
a father with a still heart
gods without power
myths for the wrong culture

a prize promised
a door held open for a date
playing catch in the backyard
a bowl left out for the stray
a handshake for a stranger
a grandchild in old arms
a gun with a flower in its barrel
a jacket over a puddle
an acceptance with a wave of the hand
an ice cream to replace the one dropped
a balloon grabbed just in time
before it floats off
into the sky.

8:07 PM - 11 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

What’s stopping us from breathing easy.
Category: Writing and Poetry

my friend had a box that could talk to angels
but I could never get it to work,
only able to hear faint whispers through the leaves
and every night I would walk through the park,
just before the sun came up and the world came alive,
listening to these hollow voices carried by winds that
came from the high deserts, the tall mountains
and laugh with their jokes and cry at their poignance

our little secret
the light brush of a greeting across
the shoulders of the wandering insomniacs,
walking through parks,
deserted streets, dark alleys,
barefoot through the dirt paths of a tiny village,
our angels, breathing in our ears
stories of beauty and love and misadventure

who needs a box when the angels speak to us
through the creaking of trees
and the broken designs of their limbs against the moonlit sky?

6:51 PM - 15 Comments - 25 Kudos - Add Comment

The trouble with the straight and narrow
Category: Writing and Poetry

the world is still spinning but it's harder to feel it move
but I can see its turning at busy city crossroads
and in the long wall of dryers at the laundromat
spinning psychedelic fig leaves in time
with the passing hum of buses and hiss of air brakes

and my nose doesn't hide the scent of hot bagel mornings
and oily underground train tunnels

some say they can find Central Park with their eyes closed,
a bouquet of singing trees and calm Lennon waters

I will turn into Superman and fly above your heads
and eventually will never come back down
because true beauty is always having your head in the clouds. 

10:45 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Don’t be afraid of all that you are made of
Category: Writing and Poetry

in love with a halfway house
a ghost note bent through octaves
a little heart that flutters across galaxies
in love with the soft flow of dark hair
curves of canyons and peaks and
waves the never break but hold their sly smiles
in love with distorted bird solos
a voice from a dark alley passing a blessing
your shy, freckled eyes peeking out through blankets
in love with a world through smoke-tinted sunglasses
the rush of anonymity across killer streets
tranquil pigeon rooftops above chaos
in love with dark nights in front of campfires
clear skies pierced with needles of light
the final murmur of a baby before sleep starts whispering
in love with olive skin on white beaches
your brash laughter that refuses to be ignored
candles defiant against the wind
in love with the hope that lonliness brings
a soft bed that is always welcoming
a pipe organ being tickled in the distance
in love with your sweet golden arpeggio
the inifinity of hesitant, interlocking fingers
the god within ourselves
in love with caffiene driven insanity
the harshest of words that will always fade out
death that brings life
in love with everything that touches with sincerity
the hope of purity that comes through excess
the thoughts of a rambling old man
in love with the possiblities that a smile can bring
the constant reminder that we are all children
our broken dreams that come together like puzzle pieces
in love with the golden mean
the downward spiral of our beautiful words
the kiss of thunder on a silent night
in love with the rainbow above us all.

5:09 PM - 19 Comments - 37 Kudos - Add Comment

The only barriers are our insecurities
Category: Writing and Poetry

I had a dream I was alone
ina field of dead grass
the sun was soft and warm
a windmill creaked in the distance
and from far away I also heard
your voice
a drop of water echoing
in a cavernouse room

hope

and you were lying next to me
breathing against my neck
while the blue breeze
ran over our bodies
like hundreds of fingers
from archaic orgies
and we laughed like children
hidden under night blankets
sharing stories about monsters

and your said, "There is
no hope.  There is
only sunshine and laughter
and who needs hope when we have both?"

6:23 PM - 16 Comments - 27 Kudos - Add Comment

A step is a landslide
Category: Writing and Poetry

a dark thrill ride
and you sit next to me
your hair pulled back
the emerald waters reflecting
off your eyes,
wide and waiting,
trying to see around the next turn
the muscles in your neck tighten
and even though your arms are skinny
they wrap around me like snakes
and I realize that this
is the best way to go
and no one would fear death again
if they were crushed
by your skinny arms.

7:47 PM - 34 Comments - 43 Kudos - Add Comment

The moment before a smile
Category: Writing and Poetry

silence,
like a dark angel finding light for the first time,
penetrates my soul.
but silence is a like hum,
a vibration that only resonates
with the ones who have finally clawed
their way back up
and found not only sunlight
and the soft caress of a new god
but the ocean flowing into eternity
and waves breaking on diamond beaches
like a gift given up to a newborn
like liquid gold

then like the waves, the silence breaks
and life fills every inch of me
and distant seagulls sing in beautiful keys
that have yet to be discovered
and everywhere I turn
there are lighthouses waiting to guide me home.

6:46 PM - 31 Comments - 42 Kudos - Add Comment

Signs of life
Category: Writing and Poetry

casual
standing by a bench
a tree
some daisies
doozies
casual and collected
watching people float by.
something pops
a screech
flightless birds
cups everywhere
too many conversations to follow.
alone
blending in
they look at me
and I disappear
inside myself.
I am a prairie dog
alert at danger
then
WHOOSH
I'm gone.
winter will last longer this year
because I have no shadow.

10:34 PM - 24 Comments - 36 Kudos - Add Comment

Tiptoes in silence
Category: Writing and Poetry

this is where the train stops
a windswept landscape where the light doesn't hurt my eyes
a beautiful lawn with dying grass
I can wake up with my smile beside me
I can hear a symphony whispering through the keyhole
an empty platform is all I need
where nothing shifts under my feet
and the most beautiful sound doesn't come from inside my head
where I can wake up

but now I'm just scales, shed
skin slithered out of
and exiting right is always an option
because it's not the train that moves
but the platformeither way I'd have to jump
and I'd rather be caught by brush
than brushed by

here comes the swell of music during purple sunsets
and maybe sleep will come in the arms of the lost.

10:47 PM - 21 Comments - 31 Kudos - Add Comment

My eclipse comes through
Category: Writing and Poetry

the rose hasn't quite opened
it balances as if in a snapshot
almost willing to give away its secret
like the parted lips of a first kiss
not ready yet to birth its petals
but content to remain in repose
maybe slyly smiling
winking
teasing
knowing we're waiting for its full bloom
for its blood red blistering
but it will not give in completely yet
all we get from that slightly open mouth
is the hint of a tongue
probing
curious
not ready to let go
to explode with fierce crimson kisses
for now we get a shy smile
and the lingering tips of warm fingers.

7:56 PM - 16 Comments - 24 Kudos - Add Comment

The revolution within
Category: Writing and Poetry

we breathe together
rhythmic
holding each other
in quiet sympathy
our blue progress developing
under the stars
we capture our dreams
and dry them on lost loves
we handle our pain
in our own ways
past shadows

we fill in the holes
we spend time digging
under a rocks
near close friends

we cant believe that
we even think this way
traveling thought
capturing our great
Consciousness, our
Universal
Mind
and we get tangled
in our own desire to
fit into these burning suits
these dagger ties
we wonder about our
own destinies
and continue crippling ourselves
during this sand war

we carry love
on our souls, hoping
to recover what we lost
we light candles in
ode to everything that
we can possibly think of
we grasp empty air
and cry out
when we miss
we walk through beautiful thorn bushes
with budding flowers
to an unknown destination
enlightening
the ground under our feet

we observe our soft defeat
holding it dear to us
under the thunderclouds
we raise our voices,
clap to break the silence,
to try to make a stand

and now we have decided
to bind our thoughts down
and try to handle our
own problems before
we comprehend everlasting,
hopeless quarrel
counting down to
our last breathe

eyes closed

trying to hard to not try

we wander through quiet nights
taking in the dimmed
car lights
shading our eyes
from campfires
our fears like burning firewood
searching for liquor
when everything is shut down
and dead

we love the friends we have
brought together
we love the lasting hope
of a dying man
we love to hear
the sounds of angry wind
we watch the leaves fall
all around our feet

we compare nothing
because we hate nothing
and everything

we want to go to Nowhere
inhale the intellect breeze
blowing out of a packed void
we want to sit down somewhere
drinking tea and exploring
the deepest chambers of the heart
we want to bring people together
in one huge joyous hip party
listening to the empty gossip
about how the sun is so bright
hollow words
contrasting and comparing

about nonsense

but we never seem
to allow ourselves the time
to break down like a shattered glass
without the sharp edges
without the lethal touch
rubbed smooth from years
of mental rivers
we can't understand
the impossible possibilities
we grab greed and strife
and cant let go

we need a new guide
a new counselor
a promise forgotten

we try to leap at every
instance of a new beginning
hoping that we won't miss
but instead we fall
we think we are invincible
when in actuality
we are no Supermen
just electrical
negations in Nietzsche's mind

we don't understand . . .
that's okay neither do we

we want to stare into our
blankets until our eyes lose control
and try to kill themselves

our watches say something
different than our minds
but that's okay
we're used to it by now
even though we don't
know what it is

we need to hear the
sounds of nature around us
we need to feel your
arms around us
we want to touch
your angelic skin

we wonder how people feel
about lightning hitting a ball
or candles eating at a bar
we don't give a damn
but of course we do
we just try to deny it
even if we know that
there is no point in
bringing anything else
closer to the truth

somehow we have to save
our Junk from being
taken away by some Nothing
that stalks the hidden campgrounds
of deceit and innocence

but then again why hide anything?
why not throw our nude
secrets into the streets of
Venice Paris Dublin Rome Athens?

we're trapped inside our
own tiny desire minds
and we can't or do not
wish to get out

there's not much we can
talk about in the space of eternity
but we don't talk anyway
we just grimace at the taste
of straight espresso

who wants to light up our lives?

didn't think so but
oh well we survive
(kind of)
that's a whole new
issue which hasn't
reached the hot iron hole
in the ground we call

Society, my friend

we wonder how long is left
until we finally get
Some peace and quiet

the foundation to our
empty lives lies near the
boundary of our secrets

we dont want to
hear about this anymore
except maybe in the reruns

but other than that you're history!

wait. . .
you already are,
sorry

we get confused from
time to time
but don't worry about us
soon we'll be up and around
in a compulsive hurry
floating to our manic-depressive
understandings
of how nothing equals eternity

we wander through empty
buildings at night and
try to search for some
unknown body
having a lot
to say about whatever
there is to talk about
but we don't accept
the inevitability that
nothing can possibly
exist in a world that
doesn't care about it

it can just sink into the mud

but these empty shells
still stand
forgotten

we invite different worlds
to come join us in
a great party of apathy
bringing our supreme
kindness to cater to
our guests in a rude manner

into our dusk lake we
dive for a special purpose
which we wish to find out
because its been pulling at us
since we were born
we try to control our own
destiny and reason but we know
that we don't want to
and that we shouldn't anyway
but what can we do?

probably enough to make a change

of course we're gonna
blow the whole thing up anyway
and we'll eat our radioactive
superiority for dinner

a side of burnt smugness

Jesus walks down the road
with a cigar in his mouth
and jacket over back
watching the trees catch fire
and the pavement melt
into cooling lava of hatred

whats going on?
be damned if we know

we live in obtuse times
growing with every second
of our strange lives
having fun watching
our time tick down
to an empty void of hope
giving small cancer growths of clouds
to annihilating little babies
who have no idea what
is going on anyway so
they can't really object
now can they?

we travel through the overgrown
forest of Zen confusion
admiring the small amounts
of life spurting here and there
in a frantic attempt
to destroy all that is known

we climb up summits to
gaze at the view of
the city from a desolate peak
thinking of old memories
and longing for more
to experience and to
learn about all this confusion
that we call enjoyment
novelty
but really we just want to leave
and go somewhere where
no one will expect
and live out the rest
of our lives in quiet solitude

we can't remember the last time
we sat down and collected
our hallucinated thoughts
to look back on how everything
went in our daily life
carefree about everything but
so careful not to do anything
wrong just in case

we happened to fall over
with a bag on my head
and started yelling for no reason

we wonder why anyone
decides to start complaining
about whatever they have
on their minds at the time
but it is none of our business
what people do in their lives
unless we go peeping into
their mind's eye
which is virtually impossible
considering we can't locate
our own

it's just one of those things
that keep reoccurring at
certain intervals of
everyone's meager existence
so we really have no control
over what we do
but doesn't that mean
we don't exist?
it's too confusing
to think about right now
hopefully it will go away
at some point

actually, we hope not

conscious of our own ideas
we relocate to our other self
to take a break from living
and watch the waves
roll by at night while
forming our fantasies
under a violently waxing moon

we imagine we touch
the sky and breathe on our own
because we want to be like
ourselves but we are
too afraid to find out
who we are
why is that?
don't
ask
us
you wont get
a coherent answer

we hold small grains
of sand in our palms
hoping one day to
be free from all want
and just wander around
gathering dust for some
odd reason
and believing that
we are hitchhiking through
some great canyon of death
while puffing on a smoke
toke bloke woke coke joke

camping out at some
far region of reason
we realize that we are
the hunted not the hunters
losing that ethnocentric
feeling,
its all crap anyway
we are no more superior
than an ant pushing
its last grain of sugar
down a garden path
while some depressed soul
comes and steps on it
without a thought or
knowledge of casual murder

come sit by us
and hold our hand
and just watch as
we drift farther and farther
away from this world
trying to find some escape
even if it means bringing
the whole roadhouse down with us
on our rampage

we would never do that though
we  care about people too much

do you dream that you
have something better
than a strip tease to
look forward to?
how about a walk
a talk with coffee
a jump from a high place
to end it all
of course not,
do you think we're that way?

we don't know what we think
anymore

how's your head?
is it feeling better?
we knew you shouldn't
have drank so much

we wonder what else
we can find out in one day

why dont you go shoot up
in some dark alleyway
not giving a damn
about anything except
some other way to get out,
light a match in their names
and pray to your divine
messenger of guilt and betrayal
with a smile on your face

we can't be trapped
inside this mind any longer
we don't like the taste

oh well no point in arguing
no one will listen anyway
so we'll just sit here
and spend the time staring
at the wall

we try to blow our cover
by giving up our possessions
in one big war of fear
of rejection and not
accepting anyone we don't know
if this isn't stupid
we don't know what is
we cant accept our own
morals without first
checking to see if
we have made any
mistakes along the way
and until then we
live for everything
but we don't really
care one way or
the other what happens

troubles troubles
why is that all we think about?
why can't we just
accept them and move on
to some sullen communion
of thanks and welcome
to our mirrors of light

we hope to blind you
with our sun in some
sort of deceptive, comma
of a small plan tonight

we leave you with nothing
but dismay to ponder while
you sleep in your nocturnal
moods and your hazy
recollections of what
to forget for now

we take a lot more stones
then we'll ever put back in
we throw a lot more
water then we will
even stand up to admit
we hold our thoughts
in locked cabinets of
amnesia while we live
fake lives and go home
to fake families just
to find out we are
even falsifying that
so we sulk for some
pity but receive none
because we are lepers
for no reason
we fly into the pink horizon
to vanish in a point of light
and reappear in a global
mystery and wonder
we dry out our pockets
and hate ourselves for it
we forget to shut off our
lights and curse the
day we were born

how normal is this?

we converse with devils
in our own minds
bleeding the fact that
in all ways possible
we reject our goals
to build a future
that is just as empty
as our zombie minds
want us to believe

we can give everything
that we have got if
there is some way
we can find out how
to release this flow
of mystical energy
that keeps emanating
from every pore in
our frail justified bodies
to keep us alive
in the cold winter air
of blue existence

we can't explain our
reasons for thinking this way
because we
do not know the reasons
anybody out there who does
just nod if you understand

we feel for you, for all of you
but we can't keep on
destroying our lives
with every brick we throw
at the windows of our glass houses

we combine our faiths
to form one monster
of a time in dealing
with the good ol' philosophy
of what is what
and who is who
we can't expel it from
our thoughts because
we don't even know it is there

questions?
no, thoughts

no thoughts to think of
in a time like this
we don't know who we are
because we don't breathe in Sadhana????

we don't know who we are
we don't know were alive
we don't know about heartache
we go on in endless
empty searches for something
to explain everything

we are tired but
don't even realize it
we are hurting but
don't even care

what you are searching for
you have already found.

12:03 PM - 15 Comments - 26 Kudos - Add Comment

Life in repose
Category: Writing and Poetry

silent and sullen
just hanging

                  suspended

some strange
abortive
piece left over from violent storms
that brings a rainbow
and a promise.

stomach tight
fists beyond clenching
waiting
for its final plummet
its last freefall
its final vibration.

and then it lets goand there is no gasp
there is no
SCREAM
there is no
protest
just a willing
and complete
surrender
to the next light of dawn

solidity to vapor
back to touch the face of god.

6:07 PM - 25 Comments - 29 Kudos - Add Comment

For Gram
Category: Writing and Poetry

I wonder if you felt it coming
like those strange peripheral lights
out on the desert while you were
wandering the night high on mushrooms
I wonder if you stared up at that ceiling fan
out by Joshua Tree
and smiled as the tunnel vision crept in
because we all knew you were looking for a way back home
you grevious angel
and I wonder whose arms embraced you
when you finally returned.

5:50 PM - 19 Comments - 31 Kudos - Add Comment