Morning Stream....

Overdrawn banks,

fed up accountants,

starving children

What’s for breakfast this evening...

crows fly overhead making sound like a reed on an oboe.

I prefer the clarinet,

only after some cognac from an aged bottle with the label faded.

Hop scotch four square ball made of rolled up socks,

in fourth grade I was far smarter than I am now.

Got caught up, laid up that was the problem, one lead to the other or was it the other that lead to one?

Grown man feeling sorrow would like to talk to Shakespeare about love and loss, might even take a swing if the bank vault weren’t locked and the pretty girl didn’t hold the key.

Saturday’s silence fostered new behavior for all except those with more than fifty years.

Put me into a trance song, my dying words, my dying words on a modulator echo effects.

Just don’t let them be in vain or fall on a broken microphone, please.

This is my roaming stream, not necessarily rolling downhill,

 sometimes uphill to a shopping cart full of ripened Plantain ready for the deep fryer.

Ahh, breakfast on the morning of my execution, never have I tasted juice so sweet or eggs so runny.

Disaster befalls us all at one point or another,

for me disaster was the point to fall for so I lept like a court jester to entertain those who cannot afford the theater.

Fell in the gutter like a vaudeville actor but harder and without a spotlight which I craved so deeply,

but I was the spotlight operator mainly on Tuesday and Nepday in betweem three and four.

On Nepday we all went down to the shore and wrote our darkest fears in the sand and watched them get washed out to sea by a container ship.

Languid lumbering beast,

laboring under expectation and waiting for some form of validation.

But that day would come under a never moon,

solitary sullen swollen nasal passages from too much use.

Everyday ride gets a diamond ring for Christmas, Christians riot in the street over the golden ox.

Saviors can be mutilated but everone likes some gold around their neck, in a Trance cannot dance but in outer space.

Lost momentum for a second my muse fills me like a pail of water,

Windsor knot my choice of apparel, colorful noose still holds weight, don’t be fooled.

Smelling salts could never wake me but the smell of Patchouli I can detect a mile away,

beach trip with strange girl who seems to like me, we lay on Venice’s beach and disapppear into each other through the eyes.

Sad day for my libido was 1998, on a wing not a prayer that I’d make it,

in a mental foxhole when the war was won by neither side I had dirt thrown on top of me.

Ta-dah! You missed me you missed me now you gotta diss me,

twice cause I’m kinda slow watching TV shows about stuff,

not violence just as lame, well, yes.

I only agree when I’m tired of the conversation, blue tooth, red tooth, no tooth, put down the phone already the show’s about to start.

Stay for the opening credits you just never know when your high school picture will be taken out of context and make sure you pause before you get on the plane, I hope the pilot has a pulse and is still warm because he is in charge.

He is in charge

He’s in

In charge.

She.

Never lose faith in your ceiling fan, to push the warm air down to your cranium.

Always check thrice before crossing me, just a warning, I’m a baby rattlesnake, I empty my venom on first strike,

cuss you out or stomp you out it’s anyone’s guess don’t even know myself.

This stream was written in a Trance with a beat like the heart of a skydiver,

opened a Cosmic Gate at age five or was I shown?

Saw things I cannot even describe properly,

dreams ceased before my teens.

Have much to show and tell.

and the stream reaches the ocean.

Tonight's embellishment

Eyes closed, mind open.

Muscles at rest, intellect wandering.

Punching through the atmosphere,

jetting past the moon, leaving a footprint.

Memories of Mars and what was,

Jupiter, the rings of Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, beyond our solar system headed for deep space.

Calculating Calculus on fingers and toes,

inside a world all my own.

Asleep but awake inside, seems to be the only place to hide.

Look back through plexiglass to find a soul in my room.

Thieves act with haste albeit I am like a rock,

laborious to stir but once on the edge...

No one can find me, no, not here,

a whole world unto me.

Another life I have on the other side of consciousness,

often I forget my connections, missing a night of sleep.

I return and find my seat vacant, undisturbed,

and loaded with gifts that I’ve never gotten before,

like a self-hug, the tools, tolerance and patience, the ability to stick my chest out. .

And keys to three hearts.

Asleep but awake inside, seems to be the best place to hide

A quadrant of quatrains quenches my thirst,

for when God puts her finger on my head.

You’ve ruined me by letting me feel it the first time,

Solid symbols contemplate their authority,

a muted bird can still fly.

Surreal days plague me

Donated organs come from the plates,

blood drop on microscope.

Brand name human, elitism flourishes,

you can still buy a coke, though.

Asleep but awake inside, seems to be my favorite place to hide.

Elephant footprint, bud of a dandelion,

both come from great ball of dirt.

Get me out of my head, Get me out of my head,

plant garden from seed,

Delicate glowing green grows ferociously,

scent of dank musk and fruit.

Seedling then stalky, sunrise reflection,

mature leaf big as Magic’s hand.

Asleep but awake inside, seems to be my last place to hide.

Don’t fly if you don’t trust the pilot,

Don’t put too much gas in the machine,

Last kiss is always the matriarch,

Blue temple rises in a meadow, follow the taurus,

Beat like a heartbeat, sounds I can’t describe,

lifts me by my earlobe, infected by mushrooms and star travelers.

Life is the best trip I’ve ever gone on.

 

The White Horse

The first time was a revelation,

where have you been all my life?

you put me on a level out of reach.

We play when work is done,

then thirst overpowers trust,

destructive companion consistant.

From the outside they frown,

oblivious to the magic that happens,

Believe that I am man,

regaining pride from abuser.

Satisfied two revolving stars,

Fixation grows like a virus hitting the cracks,

Possession, crave, satisfy, repeat.

Have no partners, sacrificed for you.

Currency flows like water through my hands for you

Salty captain wounded and continues.

Sacrificial body I am, beat me, tear me, make me bleed.

If is replaced, acquired takes the stand.

I’m a liar, deceptive,

you’re always hanging out with dangerous people.

I’ve spent time in the gutter behind my love for you.

I treat you with such care and you leave these marks on my arms,

showing everyone that we’re in love.

 Leaving you is worse than anything.

I can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t socialize with friends,

and spend many nights in a pool of sweat, shaking, aching.

wishing I were dead, questioning if I am in hell.

My body moans for you like a whale in the ocean,

frail and mentally broken I continue to live.

Met some of your ex’s. They had the same love for you,

and went through the same agony.

They tell me that it will pass with time,

I will stop vomiting, my muscles will stop aching and my bowels will

recover.

One of your exes’s told me he turned you out and you made a whole lot of money, all customers returned for more.

But then he fell in love with you.

Women fall for you too, such a tragedy to see a flower have it’s petals torn off. But you do it.

You love harder than anything I’ve ever known.

We do it to ourselves after all.

Oh, one kiss won’t hurt me. That kiss, that first experiment, opens you up to a new world.

 I float on clouds without a care in the world, unadulterated love flows through your veins, pure, warm, calming, when you near.

I close your eyes and lay back as you kiss me, completely overcome by your love.

Having her love is great but you must always know her hangouts,

at all times because one kiss can turn into a make out session that can last years.

I do not suggest anyone try her love, its strength kills many.

If you do, know this: It will be part of your life forever in one form or another. And it’s against the law, this love. Not so much the lovers but for those that turn her out. You will have to find one of these people to stay in contact with her. Otherwise you will be chasing her down while your nose runs and your puking.

Sweet red rose.

.