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of what you once thought you could or couldn't do
but was never told to you
think for yourself,
nothing and no one else
can be so true.
Cold Pressed
listen
you were in a dream of mine
and we fell in love
are you listening to me
we fell in love
it all
fell apart
as we, woke up
listen
you were in this dream of mine
and we're in love
together from the start
doing anything and everything
that we're thinking of
listen to me
listen
it slipped away
as comes the day
my breath was caught in the last kiss
that was left in the fading memory
written across your face
in that dream
that dream
you came to me
only for me to
wake
where the sun
took you away
listen to me
listen
sleep away
call sick to the things that make you
go any other way
stay with me
stay in bed today.
swept
for those discernable factors
that create tangible matter
into what is held
beyond tear and laughter
sing
and i've swept away
those unreconcileable things
relics from years before-not anymore,
...they found their way into being
sweat and wept
forms the word: swept
upon my brow, as it has beaded
the source has dried;
tirelessly depleted
and i've climbed up
a coin-fed well
to a place where my true
wish is
come to rest,
the length of a lie
the truth
is ever
so viscous
and fold
and fold
and fold
as it may
there may ever be
so many sides
that this
unrecognizable piece
maybe the part
missing from your life
echelon
time does change everything
as clothes change every day with the man
the man changes himself in many ways
this man is as many as he can
for the things that he touches
he wishes for himself to come closer
to understanding the monumental
and possibly seeking
...seeking?
forgiveness.
closure.
life has exposed every crack in the cradle
how foolish it is, are those little things,
existing to govern themselves with...
and what lies...what lies...those lies
in the wake
but nonetheless, still persistent to a honest earning
for the chances that he takes
to most that do not know...
his opened mouth to swallow
the soft repetitious reports
that this,
is still ticking on,
the cold and less of comfort
success has pulled his collar high
but makes no regard to the breadth
the one that he holds close
is the one he cannot forget
time does change everything
as clothes change to this man
from jean, to slack, to suit,
he has done the very best to change himself
the very best that he can
End
end my
be that much of anything
~ suffering
couldn't be
~ sides insides
of agony
answer my wound
end my
~all too soon
be that much of anything
~ suffering
worth
wasted away
~ (n)either (or) nor nothing
full of
awful
to my eyes
they look past
end my hour
it rips past
(~all too soon)
the wound
Walk
i am the mother that tends the stillborn child
the knight that rides the ghost horse,
a gimp horse of denial
i do not stand
but i fall...
though, not through
adore,
a jar of flies
feasts upon the painted flower
a pale distance made crooked on the wall
i am the fool steeped
in the sky
but none to hear, of the talk, (of the lie), of the walk, through the eye
the chamber was empty
before the shell
made the sound
that took (me) away
from everyone
and it pulled under ground
this cavity of mine
the silver has thickened
formed into heavy lead
are my arms, my feet
(shifting) much like the gears
embedded in my bed
(she said)
the question, the answer
how long ago, has this been happening
why this much time,
sought after
to make it show
the rabbit in the snow
i am the brick that has wandered
through the dust
that it is
bludgeoned by wind
that will not shatter
haunted "hung" by those who love and live
the gift of damnation
i feel the missing rib
oh, that body of water
couldn't take away the father
anchored, and anchored
flesh of my flesh
bore the chain in the sorrow
tied to mother
there is nothing left
death of my death
breath of breathless
i live, i live, i live, i live
i live.
in nothing
there is my gift
Now
we can be thankful
for words on a page
but it is only a reference
to life and lives - lived by others
turn the page sideways, and the words disappear
but do this to a person
or if they turn themselves away
you can always observe and listen
to the what they do not show, what they do not speak
back to back
how beautiful is the silence as they might be thinking
maybe there is no thought of you
its a handshake, a breath... their pace, a moment of inner truth
it is not yours, even though you'd like to
think for yourself
even the level of one and the same,
they are not you
<
br /> break away or to meet again
this, you and them
when does -if not matter
reconnect,
leave, smile,
recollect,
wither in anguish
stay, or chase after
does and doesn't applies
in a flash in the span of time
you share a gift that is present,
and not the words that they have written, thus far
so elegant, so fine
they have never met you as you are
those words could not adapt
as they could be the mistakes and forgiven
still or stirred in the past
only words they've said
and not the words
they will or won't
tomorrow
we may change our tone
tomorrow
we may share a home
but it is not now...
to question how it could be
how it is somehow
and you may miss it,
as i have missed it so
a guest?
myself, with all due respect
i will accompany
and leave you alone
but i can stand corrected, too
as this is only as far to life i've known
so let me tell you the truth
so you can know which way to go
don't listen to the words i write
or even the words i've said
lets walk away
walk together
behind, ahead or beside
between
never, a time, or forever
it is now
not to begin again
with my deepest regards,
-enemy, lover or friend.
One
upon the day that is ever long
carry us swiftly to where
as it was promised, as it is:
the minute infraction, becoming unfold
you are now more than those that could have been
being removed, the way that it should
there
this is the way
will it always, forever more
never to return, nothing to remain
from mouth to eye to ear
close in cold
sustain life's breadth as it has measured indefinite
over and over and over and over, this is retold
nothing is ever away.
rise if you must
splintered in enough
knowing we can stride the expanse
when harmed by no man
that does not have permanence
temperance: to open our hands
receive that life is limited to be limitless
always never be the same
compelled by the world's wonders
you will answer
the question we keep under
the cornfield, the floorboard,
the wheat riddled plains
one will never be, because it always remains
A Son
would he forgive me
in a place beyond heaven
a place without steps
to ascension
lesions from conformed
to a life's deformed
lessons
would he heal the wounds
that do not shackle me
give blood to this face that is blind
and still continues to see
would this man
continue to allow
me?
if am a son
would he allow me to reap what i've sown
would he allow me to feast
upon the fields that ive grown
would he lay the sun
into my blistered hands
and would he let me wash away the words
weathered
and worn
and tailored
to what
other
men
demand?
as in chaos
and in order
through the darkness
and disorder
i remain
refraining
from reveling in the light i see
calling this imagination
for the lonely...
all it could be?
Instilled a Place
there's as
a place in my chest
whereas that
place you rest
lover and lower as slower
again
always somewhere
something
where as
the light has been
along as
has the begin
which as that
will never desire,
never nor or until
to defeat as
lonely or expire
patient and
instill
as back as ever
as will
as you're keeping still
be
this place
is just as
you and me
and as you
never mine
that as
we have
and no time
standing as
first as
placed in line
as
you'll
always
be with mine
David
little david
i wish you never stuck that needle in your arm
little david
i could have stopped you from harm
little david
how could I have made you listen to me so ( I could have told you), and you would have listened to me so)
little david
why did you ever have to go
we had a home, but i was only a part of me
in the same place, because we had to be
little david, how you haunt my dreams
with your smile
little david, its been longer than a while
little david,
a heroin addict
born a victim of the farm where (shallow)/only graves are dug
inside her belly she /had/ poisoned
(when) what should have grown
/she should have known/
was warmth and love
little david
how cold it is, i miss you so
a little brother always with me
you know, i'll never let you go
you sat in that chair, in the open doorway, (waiting til i got there)
your eyes glazed, half-closed, /old clothes/ there was only your blank stare
no one was looking anyway
how could i have walked in and past
how it breaks me like that empty glass
fallen to the floor, before ever being filled
that water
that life
that you deserved
they
were supposed to give
little david,
by now you found your way home
little david,
you'd be the man i'd would of liked to know (i would like to know)
live
little david
live
little david
live.
Swept
for those discernible factors
that create tangible matter
into what is held
beyond tear and laughter
sing
and sweep away
those irreconcilable things
relics from years before-not anymore,
that found their way into being
sweat and wept
forms the word: swept
upon the brow, as it has
beaded
the source has dried;
you cannot deny yourself
tirelessly depleted
and you’ve climbed up the well to a place where a true wish is
come to rest, the length of a lie
the truth is ever so vicious
and fold and fold and fold as it may
there may be
so many sides
that unrecognizable pieces
may be a part of your life
could you tell before kissing
those lips that quiver, that tremble in fear
anger, the danger is sudden
was this hidden before you got here
illusions can make deaf, mistakes of what’s left
but those are made up for eyes
you’ve said before I cannot believe them,
This is running, not something you can deny
the thread from the hem, not a concise reply
See for yourself, say
"Let me make the mistake"
take hold
"Who are you to tell me so?"
This is what you give and you take
and fold
press lips tightly
told,
as poisoned or as sweet as they may
against those lips as cold
as a shadow
against the limit and the line that we make
with smiles they become wide(r)
our mouths open in hope
we show an outside beauty
to grow
against the grins, against the know
life pulls in many ways
and so does the flow of effortless emotion
how tiring it is to lack intelligence
and bear of burden to know!
Last Tree of Ténéré
By way of the streets, alleyways, and roads
the land has given way to factories for car parts, bottles and cutlery
and alone in the multitude of cars, motorcycles, trucks and trains
a tree stands
in the midst and in the way of progression
its on the last leg of its life that has had been long over due for an extension
sundown to sundown the shade is the only thing that reaches this space
reflected light cannot even find this place
in the midst and in the way
a tree stands
the banks of the shore,
once half a mile away
have succeeded to pipes and their dreams of proper filtration
a lone acacia thats found its way without moving
(its way is to) but it sways in the wind
waiting for this to end, just to begin
again and again
over and over again
its a troubled time, where you have no time, lest to save yourself