Water Waka

Draw closer to the
Water's clear fulmination.

Dread not its passage.
Though the moon glares greedily.

Instead make love to
The calm beauty of the lake.

She rises, she stands
Only when her father turns,
For he, the moon, is jealous.

Epiphany in Blue

There are many destinies,
Some are manifest,
Some, though born, we detest.
And the ones we seek,
Or label ‘best.’
Are rarely the ones we attain.

So when I slipped in the fast lane,
Everything turned slow,
And I saw,
When you peel back the snow,
From the gash, ice will flow
And equanimity becomes impossible to maintain.

Fire

Slow,
Fluid,
Attacking with great power.

Forcefully effervescent,
It consumes.

A gaze into it's depths
Is a carnivorous glimpse of hell.

You will the swill into being,
But it only glares at you,
Forced into non-servitude,
For it serves none but its own.

I Walk

Where my feet wander
I feel compelled to follow.
Like the subconscious ramblings of my inner mind
Are a road that leads from roughed trail to clouded sky.

So my unconscious and conscious become one,
As my eyes follow
The delicate leopard-skin of shadow and light
Splayed across the grass
Like a giant throw-rug
With all the comforts and atrocities that are attributed
Both thereof, and
To one less majestic.

Fear was farther than I wanted to travel,
So I stayed home and watched television.

A hovel is still home,
And is safe.

The mind is psychotic enough,
To slake the need for psychadelia.

Liquid Dropping Sun Up

Cold, damp air
Wanting to leave
Strength in the rain
Repetitive motion

Reflected through a droplet
A single light
Unused, not needed
Repetitive motions

Stiff, controlled,
Many
Forlorn glance within
Repetitive motions

Red and white shutters
Gold turned to hay yellow
Black to distorted gray
Repetitive motions

Cold, damp air
A single light
Forlorn glance within
Repetitive motions.

Burn Through the Witches

Don't be led by,
Frankenstein's bride,
Amalgam of estrogen and chocolate.

She rides a corvette,
Sans collapsible roof,
And feasts on the souls of the dead.

When she dances fast,
She'll set you on fire,
To chip a hole in the ceiling of hell.

But when she slows it down,
Better run for your life,
'Cause hell will freeze cold,
So scared'll it be,
When she,
Attacks.

So get back on track,
Stick with the easily fed,
If you want to hold the leash,
And not be choked by the collar.

Because autoerotic asphyxiation only goes so far.
Specifically, until you die.

Desert Ends

Trailing in the desert,
Tail tucked 'neath my feet,
I wander alone,
In the dust, in the heat
The cacti my footstools,
A shadow, a treat.

No rest for my body,
Won't rescind, won't retreat,
Create for me sudden,
A woman entreats,
"Lend hands to my burden,
And you may suckle my teat"

I don't stop for any,
My mind is at ease,
I go where I wished,
I'll do what I please.

Righteous In Loneliness

Morals were a cautious dam,
When released the land caught fire,
But who can know when the dam will go,
And free hedonistic desire?

If just one man,
Or woman stands,
Before the dam's untapped flow,
Then would not the fire,
Be forced into place,
That, molded, it would glow,
And shed the light,
That, calm this night,
Our innocence dissuaded.

And silently the townsfolk sleep,
Protected in illumination,
For all it took,
Was a worried look,
To enforce what we created.

My emotions

Feed through a nozzle,
A silver faucet.

off

and On

off

and On

All it takes is a little twist,
Friction
And they are choked

off

Swimming

Dream of bubbles,
Unsettling troubles,
Coalesce into a predefined space,
While zombies beat upon your windows,
And cry out in agony.
Do you feed them?

Sweat

Dripping,
Like the very blood in your veins has seeped through your skin,

Wiping,
Vainly try to vivify the deathly drying demons,

Frothing,
Do the unexpected out of fear,

Smearing,
Still so unkempt,

Wading,
Something is pulling at my tendons so I tromp,

Hating,
The fire burns but there is no chimney,

Claustrophobia,
Everyone is upon me.

How We Do What We Think

Fluidity is the silver stream of cognizance,
Aptly named for its application,
It gives answers to our anger,
For what but the tears of the sea,
Can make the rain?

An Imagism for the Morose

Soft round droplets, clear like a prism,
Clouded like your soul,
Deep into the abyss they hurry,
Slowed only by the rush of cool, damp air,
Like wandering businessmen,
They collect on fragrant greens,
Reds and yellows amalgam with the cliff face,
The deep blue creating stark contrast,
And so that rain,
That soul rain,
Falls, never ending, into the pit.

Rain is a masseuse,
Water pelting body and soul,
Great chiropractor.

Water poured down over his head, hands, and feet. It filled his lungs with joy, his mind with clarity. He threw back his head, the water sealing him in the cavern. His coffin. There would be no escape for him. He would not need escape, simply rest. Still, how can he rest without relieving himself of life.

Run my good friend, run until your lungs burst, until your head explodes, until your legs disintegrate. All that waits for you in the cave is life. Forever.

What greater curse?

Fanciful delights,
Popsicles in moonlit nights,
Icebergs floating down the stream,
Of soda pop and gasoline,
And here I stand to stop the tide,
Of things that are good,
And things that are bad,
Things that are trash,
That destroy all your hopes,
Your dreams catalyzed,
By poison-tipped knives.

I love you, now go.

Before you hurt yourself.

Aqua Vitae

Aqua is Vitae

Incredible salve of healing water. A slow balm, covering and consuming the bodies of the living and of the dead. Working its magic. A quintessential quaff, in what way is the dove above the rest of us? All must come to ground and partake in the drink we take for granted.

Life runs through our veins, a vertical vehicle impairing our deathliness. Liquid serenity, worth naught but a penny, it cleanses us. Makes us full. Filled.

Delicious.

On and on the water spills,
Judgment, fury, from a pail,
On and on it showers down,
Raining grief upon the crown,

Raining grief upon the crown . . .

What is your trouble?
To whom do I confess?
Does your heart bubble,
With acidic stress?

Does it flow like a melody sweet,
Like friends you meet,
Like friends you greet,
Like friends who's heads will roll at your feet,
Like friends you meet,
Like friends you greet.

Unwashed hands are your greatest sin,
An adulterous mouth I can live with,
If only for the barest sip,
Before I drown,
Before I care,
I pray the Lord,
My soul to spare.

Drown and swim, swim and drown,
Turn that grin into a frown,
Swim and drown, drown and swim,
Slowly heaven's light glows dim,
When I drown,
And when I swim.

Wax me purple,
Truss me up in green,
Feeding on the colors of white,
Dissasembling those that might,
Injure me.

Wading in rain is wrong,
Should never be done,
Or thought, or sung.

But wading in rain,
Washes your soul,
Brightens your ears,
But for a lull;

And lightning,
Sears your mind,
Bringing peace.