Thursday, November 30, 2006

3am ghosts

I'm thinking about what it must be like, at 8 years old,
fearful of 3 am ghosts in the glint of night, trying
to keep at sleep, then to wake with the sound
of a madman breaking windows
a couple of stories down, cursing -

"Damn you Walt Whitman! You let them do this!
You let these folks turn sulferous and let
this footpath lead me to the desert. I was standing
on your bridge as you burnt it down!

"I dreamt that you would hold my hand as we jumped
turnstiles. Damn you, Walt Whitman, you should
be locked up here instead of me, watchign the sun get
lower in the pale horizon every day. There's glass in
my teeth because you said it'd make me sparkle.

"Damn yer eyes, and damn mine too, as I waited for
you outside the city dead-house, praying on
the corpses that go by. Each one asked for their eulogy.
We all need a few songs sung, building on each other
like the bricks that ossify our city.

"I want you to know, Walt Whitman, the branches standing
naked offer a clear view through the park. Everyone
passing by sees you kneeling, crying, lit by strips of
sunlight. Dreams can be encased in poetry, but there they
choke. You should see how deep we can breathe."

The sound wind sweeping past city blocks. Streets steam
in release and I kick through a pile of leaves and let the air
currents take them.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006


and their children
covered in wax
drawing us into
their cartoons

when the big lights come out
I let my cigarette smoke blow upwards
and melt with the colors

Friday, November 24, 2006


You're here in me but outside you're lost
Desperation climbs me sitting in a window kissing frost
We're together in separation
Lost in spirit, out of rhyme
Prying at our desperation
Out of promise, out of time
I see you in fields and temples
I see you holding an empty urn
I see you crying out for shelter
from a love that you have burned
I hear poverty and hatred
You touch love and let it go
I can sense something sacred
You feel sorrow that I'll never know
I pray for your arrival
I pray to an empty sky
I pray for your survival
I pray that life is not a lie.

just a girl

exactly one year ago to the day....

the same house
same chair
same keys
same cat
same parents sleeping
and that same strung out feeling
sick broken overtired cold wet weak

every face I saw tonight was either new or re-newed
rode with good ol’ hats and hare flyin everywhere
the man dances all night and some mad glowin eyes behind a megaphone once told me to
just get in the car girl

so i did

and i will

and i do

and will continue to

exactly one year ago to the day....

i walked for the first time
heel toe to hop

so we write
for our reasons, causes, feelings
and about the change of seasons
....sometimes about groundhogs

and with all the love i have for all of you
your passion and madness

exactly one year ago to the day....

i am a causality

i just met you all in a bar
(or on a couch if you’re a cow...)

i don’t like bananas

i hate red wine

i am just a girl

and i’m going to vomit

I'm Losing Perspective

In the damp disguised darkness of the pieces we ignore.
Is the secret life of desperation of the soldiers we implore.
The private landscape isolated for those apt for viewing.
like so many mudholes set aside for those renewing.
There's hope in the sky tonight and every other
But the feeling is lost in the ignorance of each other.
I won't begin to pretend to know what love is or what it means
I'll only say that our feelings hold us together in the worst of scenes.
Maybe I'm wrong.


We live just for standing
We fall just just for landing
Life's illusions are enchanting
We branch philosophy from religeon
in hopes to be forgiven
from lethargic indesicion
An ugly submission to a cultures superstition
We give ourselves permission
with an incision of attrition
Invision inhibition as a gateway to perdition
The contradiction of the fiction is the restriction of your diction
Salvation in prediction but living in affliction
Where does that leave us?
Fresh out of your teens
With both parents in graves
Boozing and drugging ourselves off of reality
Not a bad idea
Just a bad lifestyle
Like communism
Wherever or whatever God is.
He makes more sense than the garbage we've come up with.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


I’ve been recklessly throwing shadows around
In my awkwardly lit room
In hopes to pick a fight
Or else find something to do
In regards to question 2
I don’t mind the loneliness
It’s the cold in my bed
I can’t stand

Sails a same

Pessimism runs freely and dualities conform with me
separated ideas bereave my only handle
Once a sparrow now an eagle soars majestic
Truth in serum soaks my blood cold an warm the same
Hate inspired suppressed in same and never the two shall cross
tawdry thoughts engross in conversations never uttered
Caught in the storm a forming opinion never to see the light of days
Almost becoming yet never believing two entwined at dusk
Thoughts provoking words invoking and not once grown in fruition
Twice the crossed met and once the two let but not to remember that truly
Compass turned moist and north not found the map has been lost at sea
coarsely was telling the tales of unveiling and not was the beckon of bequest
Untimely was spoken worse yet was the untaken of offers no pleads found
Crying the candle flickers quietly two bickers but others met in kind
Likesay yet we may con not for wot seems hold back a thought too long
Once a ships sails miss the sight of sails yet grieve not for wind takes all

Monday, November 20, 2006

I could look into yer eyes
while moments melt away
and I believe yer heart is pure
in a thousand different ways

i'de rather be
all the leaves vibrating madly
bowling balls
skid marks
planets turning
foam tops on beers
drank under lazy late night eyes
and the lazy late night eyes
the light rays rushin in em
the molecules burned in the fusion
that released that light
yer breath mixin with mine
and the infinite atmosphere
the updraft as it catches bird wings
and all those feathers
a train engine
the coal and the smoke

i'd rather be all that, all at once
than just this bag of tissues and organs
with thoughts and electricity

wine stains on the sweater sleeve
in the night
why can't i believe
in all the diamond stars
and the hopeless eyes
dotting just as many bars

lacking memories
of moments
that burn
through retinas
into brain cells
all the details
like the exact way
her skirt ruffled
or her lips glistened

cuz this is a vacuum
where magic and mysticism
and lip gloss glisten
don't exist

riggers, november

in the doorway
and 2 dollar
on the bar
and soul upon soul
stuck there
behind dreary
sets of eyes
all down the line
all down the line

the old man
steps out for a cigarette
tonguing his gums
behind his lower lip
and eyes the occassional
roll through a yellow light

pillow head

morning pressing slightly
arose and saddened to groove
believing change was a hot knowing
reflected for the silky mirror

the pains of moonrise
and eloquence of script
to be everything all at once
with the whole world shaking
all the vibrating particles,

Saturday, November 18, 2006

footprints on stone

Oh i love you...really....
that happened to me once

I appreciate your kindness, though you may be too generous
i would like to hear of your adventures.
should we meet?
No darlin, i’m just glad you’re in one piece
What you mean?
...language barrier sometimes catches on me
well two can play that game
Those terms are vague. I can’t chase shadows like I ues to.
Please be more specific, do you need rescue?
Just plead the 5th...then tell the jury how sexy I am.

We could have used your support. Why was your head so messy?
I feel dumb all over.
Maybe I should just cut my losses and not even bother.
For some reason that made me laugh
Any odd chance you’ve been possesed?
I’m ok with it just warn me if so thanks.

I’m in the woods now
your ride showed I take it?
I have an open passenger seat!
And we’re not going straight there...

So i’ve discovered

...the wind in my heart the wind in my heart the dust in my head the dust in my head the wind in my heart the wind in my heart....

So i’ve discovered

...come to drive them away....

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

you wanna throw me mind blowing
break my brain

cause all was selfish or selfless
or absorbed through spinal tissues
this skin, breath drawn thin
the paper under this pen

well we’ve all lost our damn shoes
whipping around like wind
slinking through these haunted streets
with Cheshire-like grins
aiming to break them all
roll around like mad gods
watch their shiny minds wobble
slip away only to fall back and follow

now in my panic I glimpsed your madness
your eyes were glass on fire
and have never burned brighter
your dreams spilt to the street
as I watched you tare at the seams
to unravel the last string of your fading sanity

well I have to admit
I enjoyed watching you twitch
as you scream about movement and flow
and star lit eye glow
at the top of your lungs
on top of this town
on top of the world
we all want to be heard
to live the dream
extend the peak
and break
because now is today
and tomorrow never starts
without a horizon
a line to guide it
and a sun intense enough
to lead us blinded

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

I first met the moon
In a cathedral ceiling-ed cedar swamp
Surprise made initial talk awkward

That time of night
I’d assumed the temple empty

“Does it smell like a library in here to you?”
I asked

And so
We soon
Were best of friends
And giggled like girls
In their prime-ist of years

We teased the old forest
Lecherous and vivid
By tossing our heads
And tried on eye shadows
In mirrored stream bends
We danced to the wolf howls, whip-poor-will’s
And owls
We drank Phlox nectar
In midnight gardens of hers
And Gossiped
Of wrens

Moon and I held hands to stroll
Or roll in inky sky
The stars mistake it Sapphic
But that
Only adds
To the secret friendship
I have made with the moon

pieces whole and otherwise

there's nothing but ghosts
in Durantze's voice
and in the rain drops

maybe Montana is an answer
maybe i'll see myself
in all that big sky

i've asked the drunk eyes
of every last soul
where they went wrong
i've chased forgotten holidays
across new continents
i've listened
to slow words
rock stars
and old women
i've been baptised
over and over and over

go ahead girl
but don't wish on just that one star
wish on the whole god damn
wine bottle
of heaven
for everything
for redemption, salvation, glory
and infinity

day dream quelude
all the perfections
of a television body

crazy fool
crazy for this life
barkin poems at the moon
cuz he knows
all the old prophets
did the same
and they like him
were born in stars
ago and away
dreams from the ether of primitive fog

the smoke hangs
in the car
like brimstone and afterlife

damaged by the wind
and empty bottles
the mind is an alleyway
newspaper blow
like godborn spirits
before birth
and the lighting
lets you know
what the next world
would be like

ricochet moonbeams
desert highway
growing old during sleep even

the gold
of the old
is the stories

matchbox romance
catches batting eyes unexpecting
cuz sometimes the serendipity
of random jukebox selection
leads to kisses and bed sheets

maybe this is just livin
the unearthed flavors of a
forgotten america

paul simon
about america
like it was his lost lover
or all of our lost lover
what is this somewhat life
ten thousand shapes
of a kaliedescope god breathing

i remember chicago
and the girl who
left me on the l train

candle wax
and an old man's whiskers
girl, just
candle wax
and an old man's whiskers

she's simply
and moonbeam
but you boy
you were the clouds
lazily drifting past
the full moon's
laughing face
all night long
all night long
and she told you
"those cats
in the alleyway
all about

Monday, November 13, 2006

no regrets!

in waiting
finally flipping the page
with the folded over corner
yellowed with age
with a face and
the shyness and light yours brings
to the one the mirror reflects
through my stagnant mornings
the road is elated
with the return of my feet to it’s pavement
and the movements we're making
day out and day in
and my face wont stop smiling
in this rain
I’m elated
higher than I’ve ever been
with the acid to my back
and the sting of the past
quickly faded away
I’m truly elated
with turning this page and
starting a new day
in your eyes

Mr. Dan from the Ark

I met
The most fantastic persona
In voice
Rodney Dangerfield
And the stories he told me
OH! The stories he told me
Of weed bags and Miami
And his daughters
Now grown
But the man
As he stood
In drizzle, out the bar
It would have been enough for me
With the voice
And the humor
And the regrets
And triumph
It would have been enough for me

Friday, November 10, 2006


The skeleton is out of the closet, dancing his bony feet all over my red alcohol soaked body
All I can do is stare at that number written on a little piece of paper hanging off my night table
I probably won't call it
Move over bones I gotta get up
Pink bicycles are for little girls and midget clowns
If the rides too short circle the clock a few times and get your monies worth
I don't have a dime old man so start begging for quarters
You sit under that awning with your coffee cup in your hand to keep you dry and warm
But if this rain picks up like its supposed to your gonna have to find some new shelter scruffs
The rain is a slanted rain and it will do what it needs to ruin your night
I'd take you in but there's a very pale man who lives in my closet
And I think he's keeping the neighbors awake
I wish I gave her my number instead
I would like to hear a sweet new voice tonight
So don't call me names, not tonight anyway
I'm not feeling it
The purple and blues got me running circles in my room tonight
I'm not calling
There's too much on the line with this girl I just met
I'd rather leave it at that
one good conversation
who knows what it would all mean twelve fights and three weeks later
Bones, get up, I gotta get to work
and stop drinking all my wine, your depleting the stock and its gonna be a cold winter
I'm settled in with everything I need so walk away
Anyway goodnight bones, Ill make you something to eat in the morning
I won't be hungry anyway

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

The Shower In The Upstairs Bathroom Inside "The Meaning of Life Mansion"

crippled prostitute.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006


Everyday I want to throw this goddamn book out and start fresh
I just keep writing more and more
Others feel bad when I say it
Not me
Not today
Or any of the other today's I've dated
They always dump me before I get what I want from them
Serves me right considering what I've done to them
They should be bitter
Probably talk amongst one another regularly
I'm gonna find where they meet and burn that motherfucker down
Fuck you I say when this is over

Johns and tricks

'Nother month and I'll be just as broke as I always dreamed I'd be.
Anybody wanna buy a story?
I'll sell it cheap.
After all you'll never get the meaning without me.

City lights were shining last night and I walked between the skyscrapers
On platforms made by the hand of my mind
Two things preceded my first step: A cold drink of harp lager and a small meal
Two things proceded my first step: A second step and a thought
Great as it was to be walking so tall I asked for more
Which is greater the need for more or lack of satisfaction?
I'd like to think my mind is hungry for new experience
It may very well be that it is just greedy for it
So which is lesser a greedy mind or a full appetite?
I'll stick to being a hungry greed monger
It may not look as good on my application
But i could not live iwth anything less

Sitting within the confines of a strangely lit room I see future-past events
Memories I hope to create
Memories that are now imaginative figures
Memories may not come true.

so what, we were lied to

Intentions don’t make up for style sweetheart
And there ain’t no Christ to guide you
And you can wait for ever
But it won’t end
You were lied to
Waiting is a choice you make
And it seems the only one, right?
The living wait for afterlife
Disco princess wait for nightlife

I know better then
But don't make up for it
Only worse
For “what I tried to do”
Or claiming
“I was lied to”
But I’ll do better when
And that’s waiting just the same

Micheal Watering the Glimmer of Bob

Your all alone in this world
is that so bad?
To realize dependencies are yours to keep or refuse
To understand that you can stand on top of this planet or let it crush you under the weight you'll allow
to be alone.
Its okay as long as you know it
At least you can stretch your legs in bed at night
when you sit alone at the green planet
Listening to pleadings of consider this
Have you considered what happenes to me
you realize he said to much
How heavy is that stone
you've not yet said enough
the chair sits alone in the middle of the room
I ask how does it feel
it smiles
so do I.

Just another worst day of your life

Deep sighs from being hard pressed
for "time"
Between a rock and a hard place
Exhaling moth-y breath
With no moth-ly magic in it

And for all its wistful future mountains
And water color sunrise potential
Its still a never-now dream
And pointless for every fiber that is non-brain
On this the worse day of your life

Monday, November 06, 2006

beauty is infinite
infinity is beautiful

the mess you sent

Don't patronize me
i'm more than just a pretty face
tonight I saw a fire fly, i named it after you
look at the moon, I painted it orange just like you asked
honey do me a favor
in the morning
make sure the door is locked on the truck
and call me later
In Russia car drives you
I'd appreciate some involvement next time
and tell him please he can't get a man pregnant no matter how hard he tries
you're pretty when you're fixing cigarettes
so please don't hold it against me, i have unavoidable feelings for you
but i promise i wont act on them, they're a byproduct of my life
i do love you but i can love you like a friend and nothing more
dear girl
as long as you don't feed into my disease
everything's gonna be fine, i promise
I want to give you some magick to practice.
Remind me of the middle pillar.
When you're ready to sleep....that's when they cry.
lost without me you say?
No you're not. You're lost with me. fun kisses music poetry wine pretty eyes muse laughter
well i like you babydoll
and I've changed my name to Jocque Ace
this is what i pay you for?
I am strong enough to punch a horse to sleep
and slap some cops!
ah yes the fire place
two boxes of wine = classy
if you want to dream, that's the key thing
the mice the people we know, everybody, i had a moment of grand concern
i just want my children to be happy and successful
I had to kneel on broomsticks to make it go away
I'll just wait in the middle
if that's indeed okay...