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  into this room that lives through the wire

  marble stone against metal rail

  that weaves through the pillars, and those that try to keep their heads still 

  still 

  this is the spiral

  touch it now, hold it now, 

  wait...

  it never fails

  this energy....there's a sudden sensory, that makes sense to be 

  that everything is possible like it was meant 

  be in the concussions that we deliver in each other's arms

  be in the absurd bewilderment that makes us so drawn

  be the effort of the illusion

  be that we are more than what we are made to 

  be

  just another red ruby sequin

  on a blood filled sea 

  can't you tell the difference, even though the color is the same

  like water melting from ice

  down the sink

  down the drain

  can you feel it slipping

  because you can't understand its path

  over the ridges and ripples of your fingers

  what you thought was a grasp

  may that drop of water turn into rain

  that makes muddy pools out of the droughted plain

  when it travels through the kitchen and 

  down into the sewers and 

  past the school filled with children

  may it be cleansed like it was!

  invisible as it once was!

  so it can again, 

  join life with the living.  

  like butterfly wings

  like seesaws

  swinging

  water, air and earth how badly do they need you so

  and fire i wish you could just stay away 

  from burning both ends of the rope

  but even if, even if

  the sheep's is in the meadow, the cows in the corn

  god, not you God, but god...

  don't give up now

  you've still given us,  the rest of us

  as blind or as meek or as weak and withered, as tyrannical or cynical 

  how badly bruised and injured 

  you can count on us to deliver

  there's still hope, 

  Gabriel, and not the angel... 

  don't blow your horn.  

  you don't need to give earthquakes, or plagues, 

  death, die and decay, 

  another day of ignoring and withering and disease and sickness away, anymore

  we're still coming home...

  until then

  its your work, that's my work

  that must be done by you

  through me.

   

  and although there is pain and there is hurt

  enough to consume

  may you make death quick

  when it is time for blades to turn

   

   

  Eviscerator

  as

  soon

  as

  i'm

  open

  i'm clo

  sing,

  again

  as soon

  as i'm turning

  i'm learn

  ing

  my friend

  (to) pull me back now

  but be

  yond where i've been

   

  the sun and the center

  blood shining

  creator

  but blinding

  i am, now

  thee

   

  eviscerator

   

  fighting and incinerating

  my will

  beyond (my) nature

   

  claws sharpened

  and turned aching by

  frowning children's web's lax

  and with {this} twisted anger

  i cant hold my back handed prayer hand back

   

  to tear and swear that rare prayer of my peers, be queer

  the gears, sifted, seared by my fears, shifted once sealed, lifted by my tears

  dropping gifts

  rotted, bored, on boards on pier

  transform, not stare

  beyond despair

  reflection not spared, in mirr-r

   

  through time of muddy sand

  invoking what i haven't known

  focus

  into what i know now

  this time for my claw hand

  to reap what i've sown.  

   

  Untitled

  there was once a man who played in puddles

  talked in rhyme 

  talked in riddle 

  the only puzzle he didn't unfizzle 

  was when he was in downpour 

  among all this drizzle

  in due time the rain did stop

  but alas, he was drenched 

  from his toe to his top

  in due shine the sun came out

  and alas he had opened his mouth...

  and he was me that i had composed 

  cold-pressed

  walking through rows of rose

  face-less,

  soaking from head to toe,

  wearing sheets of paper clothes...

  i was once the sun,

  the son,

  from the father

  i had come from,

  become

  and he was me that hides that shine inside

  i was once a man from a distant time

  To the years have passed

  to the years have passed, with each daylight, daybreak, sun shattering life and death, passing each day

  to think we've made it this far.

  this far apart

  i'd just like to say, you never know What

        the worst of things

            could do to you

  or the things that you could do about it.

  dont get me wrong,

  im not writing like this is over, 

  over baked, 

  over the dozen, thrown in, or thrown over your shoulder

  its this part i want to share. this one thing i keep so close to me, this thing that no one knows.

  but to tell the truth as truthfully so... this custom turned ethic; i am so burdened with.

  one person does know, 

  but they have sworn to infinitely keep this secret so much

  and as i have sworn to keep this true.

  it seems that secrets sometimes supersedes what we are trying to accomplish.

  in 7 hours, i did realize that this was a gift. although things took shape into a wolf.

  and like star shaped cuts, whipped on my back, it definitely did matter as much as that

  ...hungry wolf

   

  but i'm not saying the name, to use it in vain - or to attest to the manifest of my shame

  no, no... i do take for granted

  but that is then, and remember 

  i'm telling you how

   

  not to remember, is worse than to forget

  for that festers, that secret that supersedes...

   

  but for everything that reminds me

  it reminds me, of the me that is the sunshine on your back

  that is the heart in hand

  fool

   

  to think that i could ever forget, 

  me

   

  how you made me make myself steal

  every piece until it was all set aside for you

  and how that made me feel

  because lie was living the truth

   

  and it pushed me so, over every place i could go

  over the mountain, carried through undertow

  to get to you

   

  and to think, i can't even thank you

  In Passing

&nb
sp; How can someone make you forget with a smile? The one that stops you in your tracks like the last second before an oncoming crash - the instant of grinding metal crushing its way into the space that occupies your body. With that body contains the thought that circles with worries and the devices and interpretations that help us make it to the end of the day. The quotes and phrases that stand ready like green toy soldiers – they stand ready to defend the silence that helps us stay warm and fall asleep at night.

  Those eyes lock into you. Solid enough to touch your soul as soft as the rolling fog. A hand that eases the stiffness in your back and is now made as comfortable as a favorite chair. Little did you know that your arms have found their place without the constant weight of gravity or the soreness that dedicated hands take.

   

  It is said that eyes do not lie and maybe our own deceive us. But what is that feeling that compels us beyond our bodies? It is not made through time in the places where we fill in the gaps when we wonder, “What happened?”

   

  In there, that solemn moment - there is no one else but our eyes, as people blur by behind, by our sides and in between. Lungs compress the oxygen that once filled this space. 

   

  Those eyes may be in passing. The view into which is the essence- so plainly presented. makes no difference because by now, you’ve already changed and they have affected your life forever

   

  There is something between us. From any distance, we are embraced in each other’s arms.

   In the most grand and minute of disguises – we’ve seen each other.  

  He-Him She-her

  welcome, come in it's warm

  mutilate decapitate

  grow thin begin

  inhale in verse

  go skin running

  ask a mass

  true things it clings

  a driver inside her

  go away stay

  stay far we are

  go stars memoirs

  if i know where i was going... i'm sowing

  oh no so

  it's dark embark

  exhale ever

  smoke trickles from my fingertips.. so soft

  this is my second eleven, eleven, eleven

  go ahead she said

  let him let her

  come in she sings

  it's final it's right

  go sin ending

  come back relax

  and ask sharp tacks

  i'll answer i'll ask

  it's fine okay

  you're worth it's dirt

  the time a mine

  i know a rut

  it's time a line

  lets go. a blow. 

  Arrow

  in the morning wake

  she wiped her eyes 

  the haze that consumed: (door's closed, someone's home) denied

   

  she walked up those icy stairs

  to a place where no one would've cared to look after

  the windows closed, *they* howl of winded disaster

   

  the metal spoke as heaven opened 

  how cold is your hand on the rail

  with hail, mary was an archer - but without her aim she had failed

   

  dear mother sing the song that you could follow

  a place that would bring the breach to the shallow

  with it comes in the speak of tomorrow

  lingering *shall* give the quiver to the sorrowed

   

  the secret suddenly releases upon blunted words

  once so frail-unopened the tiny red ribbon disturbed

   

  the toil that we till, until the mouth is filled full of the flowers that we grew,

  truth they've said to never say again, 

  broken arrow,

  subdued

   

  the flicker of the match, the light of the haste

   

  she wounded that throat- thread wrapped 'round ever so tightly

  that a fool could never step through the net

  a barrier that run ground of he might be

   

  bury her, ground off, a long lost taste

   

  he might be a mighty maybe,

  may he?

   

  mother may i sing the song that you could follow

  the day the son would bring the speak of today, tomorrow  

  within brings the depth to the hollow

   

  if i didn't, if i should

  if i could of, if i would

   

  if i can, if i stand

  if i've been misunderstood

   

  if i correct at all

  if i reflect, collect it all

   

  i am just like you

   

  and i accept that you are not like me

  the root that grows upon the tree

  in the woods without a sound the light has found its way

  blindly to me

   

  by wind winding through each feather of birds wings

  and when that beauty flew until it died

  it placed me there to grow beyond impair

  with or without being heard

  with or without being near

   

  don't use your eyes,

  don't listen,

   

  the weight of the fall

  is always there

  One way

  look for me

  in the morning air

  would you even

  find me there

   

  in the room

  when i painted blue

  would you know,

  i've left for you

   

  in my heart

  i've walked away

  would i find you there

  some way

   

  along the distant line

  check your wrist

  do you have the time?

   

  look for me

  in the morning air

  would you even

  find me there

   

  speak what has

  encrypted me

  folded

  nothing to see

   

  here we are as nevermore

  long ago we were before

  in the spaces

  where the wind whistles through

  speak untrue 

  as it were 

  we've hurt each other

  we both did it for you

  n.Either

  make it so

  so much 

  that you are never without me

  make it so

  so much

  that you are always with me

  make it so 

  that you are never with me

  make it so

  that you are always without me

  to us 

  this is both

  the knot 

  and the rope

  which is stronger

  it will or will it 

  let us go

  Rifle

  from the front

  war has waged

  eager to spill 

  onto the next page

  many passages like atoms

  colliding, and vaporizing - 

  creating

  moments of nothing

  for none to read 

  those blind eyes, 

  that do not span 

  that wingspan 

  of spanning time

  saying, 

  "I am unfortunate 

  as could I be 

  the only one that could see

  ...here


  right here

  through the light...

  through your door, I will find me."

  and, 

  "Darkness my only friend

  have I rest to die again

  I've put my hands into your care

  to watch things I've built

  not be there"

  "How little do I know

  with as much as I have followed

  the depths of morbid

  through the depths of the shallow."

  with this so much 

  is such 

  that naught

  is there

  in that once burning field,

  turned to gray

  that soldier's

  clipping wing 

  is empty today

  with a step forward

  that dust will recollect

  to no such memory

  he has not given up yet

  not the war to continue, but the man

  to walk out of the burning sand

  who will tell time to listen

  to what time will tell

  who will shape the wisdom

  he doesn't know so well

  he is the one that lays his down his hands

  to be cut in half from where other men stand

  even in the heart 

  where none shall pass

  he has embraced that broken glass

   

  as it is all that is now

  i've started to notice a change.

   

  in my eye - a burning field

  and i've been there 

  to reveal

  with a right to wander

  always due to be

  as sudden as tragedy 

  where, there i contested my palm

  "left hand, disarm"

   

  the toil of again

  purposeless when wrought  

  to be the name

  what it is, it is what to be, 

  it is, not

  as each moment is skewed by perspective

   

  step left, steady, 

  misery

  has become

  the enemy

  as that choice chosen by fault

  for all

  that is worthless

  we fall, 

  into what's recognizably

  redeemed to be the best of us

   

  and its enough to fire at will, fire at your enemy 

  if you can face one, you face them all

  You

  take my wrists

  take my arms

  but do not take my word

  as my word can disarm

   

  the way of the unknown 

  the feeling that shows

  of what is hidden inside

  the place never to go

   

  and how the howling wind did matter

  as it filled the space with noise

  ripping the rope to climb

  opening doors once closed

   

  but as soon as spoken

  it was shared and observed

  and it changed the will of the wise

  as it was brought into the world and stirred

   

  let it be heard

  and i will show you

  the wind's song

  as it shatters the veil