Silence is the sky’s

Still pond water,

The taut plastic bauble

Keeping you from

Breathing truly fresh air,

And echoes are the parts of you

That refuse to die in me,

A resonance along soul-twining gossamer,

Whispering sweet forevers

And shoring up the ramparts,

In preparation for the never.

Take a lesson from the Soviets

No guns, no religion,

No escape.

Look into London,

The streets are red

With hashish blood,

Silently sliced from the arteries

Of civilians and weaklings alike,

Only in a world of submission

Does public civic execution occur,

Now dream American,

And call the suburbs a comfortable nightmare,

But criticize the blade of grass

Evil it is,

For the gun hiding behind it,

For the right

To defend yourself indiscriminately,

Live free,

Die free,

Rather on my own two feet

Than on my knees.

There’s a place

Where people hold God

In their hands

And pass him off

For new suits

And higher demand.

The streets are paved

In the simple man’s blood,

Skies scraped clean

By industrial revolution,

There’s a place

Where folks don’t even live

On the greener grass they cull,

Instead the dream ends with

A time card punch.

Spoken word like snake tongue,

Where the only truth is wasteland law;

To trust only the knife in your back

For you were both forged in devastation.

We are the antithesis

Squabbling in the ruins

Self-dubbed “luxurious”

Like a hotel you can’t

Find the checkout desk for,

A prison without any cells.

Think about it,

No spoon, no keys,

Just simple musings

Bordering insanity.

You can break the chains

By merely walking away,

Destroy yourself in the wilderness,

Lost in nature’s centrifuge,

To separate from self,

Find freedom without refuge.

I can go to bed sober

Wake up hung-over

As though

I couldn’t find you in my dreams

So I slept walked to the bar,

Or maybe I’m just withdrawing

Without you.

She told me

Smoking hasn’t been sexy

Since the Marlboro man

Died of cancer,

I laughed,

A rusty, croaking sound

As though the valves

Refused to open,

And flicked the cowboy killer

Onto the damp morning grass,

Letting the smolder

Wash away last night’s doubts.

After all, evening imperfections

Taste coffee bitter with the dawn,

We can’t let the kettle boil over

'Lest the fire go out.

sick of the bullshit

i’m burning the air

faster than it aspirates,

i hope your lungs

thank me

you put the sin

in incinerate

like a solar embrace

threw myself

back into this

pit full of hate.

I feel like falling out

Isn’t too far from

Slipping through the cracks,

I want to walk where

Cloudy sky meets blue lake

Illuminated in reflected

Mountain crags.

There isn’t a star

That hasn’t fell in love

With their nebulaic counterpart,

Yet the galaxies between them

Cannot dull their glow.

I consider myself lucky

To witness such as eternal,

For I know how fleeting

The years can be.

Love was the wasteland

Of my teenage years,

Wandering apocalypse of

Mal-adjusted abdication,

I found only her ghost;

For it was merely the idea

That sold me on

The angel’s wings.

Hatred was my shadow,

Hidden in the crevices

Gnawing away at the pathways

To the heralded land

We all seek at heart.

Finding her was

Acid etched blood poisoning,

Sending it’s darkened fingers


Artery to capillary to

Collapsing corollaries

Slowly maddening,

Nuclear sunset

To a tragedy

Still happening.

I like to believe

You’re behind every tinted window,

Riding off on every far away ship

To far away places I’ll never see you again.

I like to believe

Fate will bring us together again,

But I refuse to hope

That stranger will turn around

And be you,

Every time I do,

I never recognize your face.

Do you remember

When we dreamed like starlight?

Reached out across

The universe,

Found intimacy in distance,

And it seems to be

Just to decay.

I remember

Describing you as the flame

Wicking away at the candle,

Giving me light

So I could see,

But I still haven’t found you.

   I’m addicted to the free fall, the new horizon, and the unknown night. Fear’s not a cage—But the best damn drug on the planet.  Going fast in the slow lane, blowing red lights, all to tempt fate on the freeway of life.  There’s a moment when it all fades to nothing, you can be drunk, high, or sober.. And it’s a blender on high speed juice setting.

It’ll twist you up, shred you to pieces, and dilute anything worth having inside you back to where you came from: liquid goop.

I sincerely pray, that when that moment finds you, you’re not ready, so it can be as sincere and as real for you as it was meant to be.  So you can take away from it the simplest meaning, walk away with the most graceful footsteps.  You never know which time you won’t leave footprints.

Reflections on a mirror are man-made;

Therefore liable to calculated faults

Due to our propensity for perceptual perfection.

Nay, I prefer the near-still water of a pond,

The ripples betray the fights in our lives,

Evidence of the demons chasing us

Testament to our trials and triumphs.

But if everything is what we make of it,

Then everyone is what we see of ourselves in them,

No one is anyone,

Except those who are nowhere

Where I seek my escape.

Her absence is like

The starlight in winter;

Seemingly more distant

For the frost that nips

At your lonely breath.

Autumn carries with it sin;

As does all natural beauty.

The reminder that looking back

Simply isn’t worth what’s already coming.

Something is pulling me 

Towards the compass corners,

Like wind through my hair,

Or your fingers down my back.

Something is calling me west

To the mountains,

And south to the sea.

Judge the vagabond

Not by the shoes

Tattered to his feet,

But instead get to know me

By the dust clinging on

As though for dear life,

For is a journey

For us all,

So long as you fill each footstep

With the love you carry with you,

No feather will ever

Be a burden to you.