This and That

This is here.

No and where there is.

I just want my tongue on your teeth.
I fly to the moon and swim it's lakes,
I circle the sun on wax wings
I just want to lay beside you.

Here is under there.

The push of forward motion.

I just want to touch your face.
I race across the yellow prairies,
I climb the mountain's tallest ridge
I just want to see your smile.

Take me one step closer
to that.

16

The days pass
-Under bridges
Hidden from sight
Tunnels of sound

I am running
-I can't catch up
The wind is much too fast

Let me just say this,
I am a selfish creature
-You were a selfish mistake

How do you fix love when there was none?

Counting Change

So I go.

Ten steps away from freedom,
A breath towards insanity

Light playing out upon the street
The sound of touching leaves

Wind through strands of hair
The doubtful summer sun

Is it wrong to know?

"You Can't Take it With You"

There is a truth
Deep inside the act of wanting you
Some grain of lust
Well soiled, into flower grows
De-flowered and sucked of pollen
We are the dying bees
In a crowd of amphibians

Oh, I want you
Or some image of you
Petal to petal and skin to skin
A rush of blood to the loins
Spring rains eternal
Flood of body heat and sweat
Sitting on an airplane.

Twelve Thirty

The light flickers

There is hesitation between the forefinger
and the thumb

Just a slight tension

Day Five

The rough rocky taste of salt
and pounding waves
I peer into darkness
Find tiny caps of white
Inhale and Exhale and Inhale

Sin/Sacrifice/Loneliness

We wash and worship
Cleaner, closer to God

Wipe the souls of our shoes
Before we enter the House of the Lord

We fast and forget
Healing, hungry for God

Drink the blood of the Lamb
Bruised and eager knees

We sin and sacrifice
Following, feeling God

Head against the wooden pew
We are only human.

I Took a Train to Get There

This city is filled with walls
Sound barriers
and loneliness.

Bricks upon bricks
Cement sidewalks
the estrangement of lovers.

Blades of grass
Flooding rivers
and tear soaked pillows.

This city is filled with cars
Highways and crosswalks
Attempts at companionship.

Wheels on the pavement
Yellow lines
Stolen, guarded smiles.

Tangerine mornings
Masked by blinds
The search for humanity.

Saturn-day

I unwrap you

Inside you are warm and wet
and you taste like movie theatre popcorn

You are naked, now undress

Let me find the smile behind your eyes
You are only a moment away from being beautiful
But you hesitate

We have pleasured and moaned
Drank of each other
But it's never enough, I'm still thirsty

Now undress,
I want you to trust me

Candy

Thoughts are layers
Like giant gobstoppers
or peeling off the back of a new sticker
I feel one thing and think another

Women are strange creatures
Too many contradictory layers
Blue and red and yellow
I just want companionship

Creating Affection

We don't make love,
we make tiny beads of sweat
Between breasts,
Under knees,
in a low lying forehead crown

We don't make love,
we make time
Days to minutes,
Seconds to hours,
Trapped in the continuum

We don't make love,
we make trouble,
Late night phone calls,
Tears in the shower,
The suffocation of too many blankets

Monologue

I am the most jealous man alive.

I love your mouth.
That pearl upon pearl, pink forest of fog
Dreamland of lollipops and other sugar candies
How I envy your tongue for unrestricted access to your teeth
How I envy your teeth for the freedom to touch your lips
How I envy your lips for the touch of breath they receive

Watching you eat is torture for me
Every crumb a stolen moment
The motion of your tongue from side to side

I refuse to even think about chewing gum
I'll go in to a jealous rage.

I would glue your mouth to mine if it wouldn't kill you.
I've thought about that while masturbating
Not glue, but the permanence of your mouth on mine.

I am the most jealous man alive.

(To be continued...)

Birth and Being Born

Lead me not into gyration
Dancing wildly at the altar
I pray for my soul in masturbation
The setting sun is a setting star

The taste of my self is sacred
Like the moons numbered phases
Bathe me in oil and baptise me naked
Sending Jesus penetrating praises

Running Clouds

What is dependancy?

I think about you constantly.

The air is dry and I'm walking home, drunk, alone.
Reaching for the meaning in the clouds
-They run on duck feet

My crotch is wet from wanting you.

"She just smiled at me."

And I'm walking home with only half a shoe left.

The Line

My sister would be a great spoken word poet
She flutters like a butterfly
From one flower of thought to the next
Sucking the juice like a hummingbird

She paces and raises her voice
Makes connections between Einstein and my mother
Finds them somewhere between the grey cells
Leaves the shower running

Is it right to fear the obvious?
I am frightened by her jumping frog brain
Lilypad to lilypad and her voice gets louder
Silence, then a laugh.

Nobody Even Likes Poetry

I'm tucking my balls in and signing up for the open mic on April 16th at the Oolong Tea House in Kensington.

I Have to Stop Biting Wolves

Mouthfuls of fur
Generally unpleasant
Picking hairs out
From between teeth
Reminds me of you

All that remains is some shattered idea of beauty
A temporary moustache, some dried up tears, the gag reflex

And the knowledge that biting a wolf, while erotic
Will just leave you with dried mouth frustration

Frustration is an Empty Fridge

Anger is a cold trickle
Down the spine
It hurts like tiny needles
The act of wanting

If only honesty wasn't so bold


I want you to kiss me

Summer Prelude

Watermelon seeds tiny canoes
In the stream of juice connecting
My mouth to my white T-shirt

I love you like the straw grass loves rain
I love you like the pink inside the rind

Ce Soir

I want to write
Until my fingers burn off
And the urge to love disappears

But what if motion and light are not the only lovers?

Sitting alone and pondering the depth of the ocean
Does it end or is there a sandy bottom?
Please, I don't want discomfort
Just thick smoke
And candy canes on Christmas morning

Six Pack of Pilsner

I wish you could read me
As a young girl reads Jane Austen

Hope filled. L-
ife is one big quest for the penis
to meet the vagina.

Maybe true love
is large dextrous hands
Coupling with nimble minds

Scotch : Mouth to Mouth

The late night mulled wine mouth speak
Youth is composed of tender moments
Tough as alligator skin
Fitted together like tooth paste ads

If you can understand this
Then the smoke isn't thick enough
The love isn't deep enough
The whiskey isn't strong genoug

Language is testy if you are a lover
Spoken words are hand testimonies
Kisses the expression of subconscious desires
Such as, Let's have sex and scream

I want to write about breakfast
But I hate pancakes and bacon
Too much flour and the whiteness between taste
Leaves coffee on my tongue
Urine in the porcelain toilet basin
Unresolved sexual exploits

Cash, Vanity

This frigid wind of dependancy.

This single-minded self indulgence.

So I become - three headed suicidal monster
Light a match to light a cigarette
Take a breath to take a step

Square zero and counting downwards
Into the non-existence of negative numbers.

A Ripe Shrug of Shoulders

Isn't there just something
About people
Their faults

And giant craters in the moon
Known as lakes

My soul is swiss cheese
Truth a melon baller.

Dead Skin on Skin

Connect the dots
Between the moles and scars
Between the dust, the light
The Earth and Mars

Between the thighs, the moon
The apple breasts
Cool morning, night-time, noon

I Am Too Often Ashamed at My Own Honesty

I'm driving a wheelbarrow
Into a narrow crevasse
And the red paint is chipping
The wheel is loose

Honesty pains me more than silence
The wisdom of severed tongues
Uphill towards the landfill
I am struggling to empty feelings

This shielded cage protects lies
Feeds on my inability to be unloved
Must we all through the mud struggle?
I cry for the day that dancing died.

Driving

This is the silent moment
When all others become puzzle pieces
Snug together underneath pancake blankets

We just stare at each other
Smile a little and dip our fingers into pondering
Is it right to want something wrong?

You hide under night sky and single stars
Hands over steering wheels, breasts, back
The sun is a tiny light in my imagination

Selfish start to honest relations
Do I love the moment or the forearms?
Slender deer leads hawk to water

When I Die, the Angels May.

In nakedness I find a penny
And, shinning, pick it up.

The leaves begin to bud and dangle
Tempting to touch the cotton ball sky
Reaching.

So this is the miracle of morning,
the day's own re-birth, night's
Mourning.

Bare to the world, do I not belong?

The Color of Beer in Snow

(You are not magical)

Not in this moment
In others, yes,
painstakingly.

Perhaps I just feel alone,
Working the world to tender palms
Clasping at textured straws

You are heart-wrenchingly undefineable

... not magical.

A Study in Nature and Man

I'm finding self-doubt and dust
Cluttered somewhere close to the left ventrical.

Among the dry grasses and high mountains
Among the growing leaves and rushing wind

Lust is a funny thing, isn't it?
Denial an ulcer

Among the singing trees and bold sun
Among the water droplets and heaven's face

Oreo Church

The reverent prayer
is useless to masturbators and pedophiles

Someone always seems to quote
"Can we deny our baser instincts?"

But what if the bottom is the barrel
and quarreling dulls to nonchalance?

So, I touch...my...self?
In some sort of pleasure that transcends description
Some sort of ice cream sandwich in August.

Lost Poem

Loosing Love
A window in you Heart
They can see you're
Blown Apart

They can see
the Wind blow.

Ice Cream

Flash to memory of hands on face
and knees tucked under yours
Groove of stomach to groove of back
Breath on neck and fluttering hair

S shaped happiness.

Sunday February 17th, 2008

A plastic semi-automatic
Is about to change my life
And I stand, unaware, inside.

Funny how violence touches you.
Hair matted with blood,
Hand fractured and blue.

Sitting next to the injured
Means I'm only two degrees
From the devil himself.

I can feel his presence
In the air, the shaking fingers
Peace be with you, life also.

Cold Winters lead to Small Children

There is some sort of meteor shower
Originating from the central point
Of my lower bowels and upper groin.

It seems to be the event of the season
Astronomers and celebrities alike
Have conviened on the lawn to bear witness.

Unfortunately, I am in extreme discomfort
With the exception of my clitoris
My entire body seems to be alight.

A hush falls over the assembled crowd
As the sparks begin to thin and stop
My panting is extraordinarily loud

(Like the "Thank you!" to a bus driver while wearing headphones)

This has been an unexpectedly nice day.

Air on Air

Can we just be lovers?
Touch of skin on velvet

I will swim with you
If you promise to float

That's all I really need
A boyant comrade

Maybe a kiss or two
Maybe a hand through hair

I just want to fly on water with you.

The Inner Eye

The refracting Light
and,
Echoes


Fill the darkness behind my
Pupils

Pandora and the Incident of the Naked Gun Range

Ahem,
Couch reminitions
Loaded amunitons and
Green tinged sunrises
Clouds driven by Heracles
Charioteer of the human soul
And where is the fire?

Remind me to wake Promitheus
From his Vicadin stupor
It's getting a might chilly
On this floating continent.

Oops, I spilled some wine
All over your crotch
Looks like me or Aphrodite
Should slurp it up.
The judgement of drunkards
Don't miss the opening performance!

It's about time you woke up
With blood on your hands
Or, I guess, could be red wine.
Cardboard boxes contain hope
Until they are unceremoniously opened.

Fertility in Action

Oh, the burden of being a sexual creature of the opposite sex.
Mostly just HB pencils, the end with the eraser.
Read somewhere about a lady's first masurbatory encounter.
Eating peanuts at the circus, bag in her lap.
Digging deeper until she isn't hungry anymore.
Only trouble is salty hands, unless the peanuts were beer nuts.
We can only hope the elephant distracted her neighbours.
Peanuts don't sound very erotic, but I guess they can be.
Just like HB pencils in first grade and exploratory hands.

Stranger's Comments

I could make three kinds
of beautiful woman outta you.

First, the smile.

Then we deconstruct the lower eyelashes
Glue em on paper into stick lashes
She is an eye lash, stick babe.

Lastly, in your embrace.
This is all kinds of sensual
and makes my heart a pitter-patter.
Makes me aware of my groin, also.

Or, you know, I could just keep you
as three beautiful ladies rolled up
Like a sausage in a pancake smothered in maple syrup.
Breakfast delight.

Attempted Sonnet for the Halo-Bearer

How are we seperated from darkness?
It is a dart thrust towards the centre?
The line dividing my selves is a thread
of the lies and half, poorly woven, truths

To hide the darkness we find God inside
Ourselves and creatures of greater value
That we then liken to those of lesser
The great abyss that is man's arrogance

A jester may not find fault in his king
Such is the mirror to my reflection
Honestly is narrow and close to fear
Whomever is the fairness of them all

Does lack of light necessitate darkness?
As the fatal dart continues to spin

Dude, Being Alone...

So, I don't know shit.
I just want to smoke weed
and have sex.
Maybe read some cool books,
drink tea, smoke cigarettes.

Fuck this whole pretending thing.
Pleasing people machst mich Krank.

A Passing Thought of Insignificance

True Love is Culpability dipped in Loneliness

Mechanics and Motion

Inside your mind a slideshow of thought
and I lay right next to you
My hand across your chest

Sleeping and dreaming of frozen waterfalls
Lilies and apes without fur
Hand over hands and mouth over lips

Black and white and colour motion
Is my face the third person?
and into the waves the eagle tumbles

Leaping naked from the precipice
Eyes red and three in number
I catch the sleeve of the wind with one arm

Ride a little before the cold catches me
Imprisons me in selfish stillness
The motion of the third eye Saturn encircling the earth

The wheels that spin in counter clockwise motion
Glance at each other for fear
Of that great improbability of interlacing

Du(ck)plicity

The Mallard
Stands on orange feet and waits
Silence in the midday
Shallow waters
Father of all domestication

Are you Proud of where you came from?

Solitary brown female
Is pecked at and herded
Raped on a rocky slope
By every male in the paddling
Left to waddle away

Before the Lions

Stand inside the fire
Wait for the coming
of the Man named Inspiration
Beside is too hot and faithless
Inside it is warm and orange

Can you wait?

For the dove to return
There must be land
and soil
and roots
and branches

Twenty seconds plus or minus two
and the world is drowning

Give er dat religion here, old timer!

Some o' da best shit comes to ya when
Ya be freely expressin' yer and yerself, gotcha?
It's likened to a storm, or one o' dem word puzzlers
Taste-tastically, tinglin' senses and
Ouch - That's touch for ya babe
Some o' da times it hurts
Some o' da times it's a good feelin'
Lot o' da time, come to say , ya?

The best beat makin'
Is in body touchin'- did ya say rubbin'?
Some o' da bestest rhymes out der comma from da bedroom.
Most o' dem, I gonna bet.

Some o' dat ol' time religion
Lost but not forgotten, ya can on dat bet!
Bible done tell ya to praise yer Lord,
and where be he if not in yer bed-?
I ask ya dis!

Ouch, some o' da most bestest beats
From da thumpin' in the sheets

Ain't no G in in'

I'm in one of those
Can't-do-nothin'
Sitin'-is-agony
Watchin'-for-nothin'
Pacin'-to-fro
Chocolate-eatin'
Toe-scratchin'
Moods

Comes with the territory.

More like a
belly-achin'
Stomach-churnin'
Acordian-playin'
Baby-makin'
No-good
Down-beat
Dirty-sweatin'
Dog

Slick Velvet Tunnel of Ecstacy

we ride the night train
to avoid prying eyes
the tunnels are dimly lit

we travel through space
sleep a blanket of time
hiding from honest sun

Bodies, Cages, Birds, Souls

The Body is just a Cage
for the Soul

Colorful Parrots in rusted iron enclosures
Half whole Pigeons behind bars of gold

Captor and captive dangling from one string of many
Thread perilously close to being broken
Frayed with age, time
Dangling next to razor blades
Slaves to the ever changing wind

Young Duckling taken by the breeze (Oh, and we are right to retain some hope)

Thin yarn supporting Pelicans
Choices are weighed with beating hearts
Steel chains bearing Nightingales
Song is the gift of dreams to inadequate vocal cords
Canaries held by Goliath's braided hair
Light can only be seen in darkness

The Soul is just a Bird
trapped in the Body

Allmande

Ich weiss nicht
Und jetzt Angsthaben bin ich
Ich weiss nicht alles, nur ein Bisschen

Könne ich der Welt ist fast unmöglich
Leben auch
Keine Schönheit, keine Gnade, kein Herz

Immer noch schwierig, immer noch traurig,
Immer noch ohne Lieben,
ohne dich

Franzosisch

J'ai aucune sentiment
Puis c'est la pire chose
qui ce passe
entre moi
et le monde
extérieur

C'est la manque de
liberté
qui me touche dans ces
moments
Il me manque, voit-tu?

Je tombe loin de toi
et en même temps
de moi

Alors, c'est ça...

Tu me manque.

Casey

I remember you told me
We could make our own sound
And my innocence was born

Right there on the rusted park bench
The city lights our blanket

Night in summer is made for youth
and we stole our moment there
We made our own sound

Seeing You, Alone, Tonight

In an abrupt flare
I wanted you
The image of you naked
Flashed in front of me

It came like lightning
and the thunder followed
That incessant urging

A pulsing of blood
and flesh against flesh

Just in that moment
all I though of, you

Making images in my mind
as you draw in the sand
Something new and then
the wash of waves against bare feet

To be young is to yearn
and feel longing
That tenderness below
That haunting breath

I thought I was alone

Lost beneath the jasmine tree
In the orchard, I stand
Memories of lips, hands
Upwards into blossoms
Pieces of perfection
Detach and float gently
Aimless wanderers in the ocean
Formed of air, togetherness

Young Bodies

Does no one even realize?

I lay in bed
Night time
Afternoon
Mid day
Morning

Thinking of young bodies
Tightness of skin, muscles
Pinkness of flesh, lips
Roundness of hips, breasts

In the Days Following the Incident

I stopped dreaming -
and the mold grew there.

Thick and viscous,
More fluid than plant

Tough to fight off
That protective layer
Of age, warmth, greyness.

Before Her Tattoo

I thought it was a good picture of
You
So I put it up on the
Wall
Started to peel at the edges after
Years of my roving eyes finding it

Tiny acid holes from dirty fingers
and the curl of heat and time
Faded colors now, blurred lines
But it is still a picture of
You
Still on my
Wall

That Photo from that Nirvana Album

When I wanted to be a poet
I wrote everyday
Until in the Beauty of Life,
I began to drown

How cold are the waters of Truth
Like a baby you search hands first
Gasping only the void