*opus in seven years
long ago has saved me
this discovery has worked well
at the time of my premature death
the smallest number of words
breathed and pulled
but showed no intention of
rememberance
no amount of time seemed to edit
these passages
the shape and sound of my unclear
god yet elephantine
but in spirit very personal
one brave and single moment
awakes a darwinian evolution
i am...i am...i am...
not a trilobite anymore
not a door bell chimes
no bloated corpses set aside by the quay
i am layered by how true life is layered
vast and arcane
piled onto that which has not been discarded
wrong or trivial
seems to give way to equilibrium
ideas, living creatures and muses firing off
phrases , rhythms
deep visions
saintly flow
the tombstone , the tempest
the shift, the morphology
something changed between
digressing and rambling
a crazed asthetic
a child's false perceptions
hopeless illusions
from the ground up addictive substance
moments of paranoia
everything on the wrong side of the river
somewhere between
grand catastrophes of invention
ordinariness and martyrdom
pinned down to the uncommon
the randomness of traffic
the aquired dispair
time drained away and beneath the swell
the bloody cause of a kingdom dream
killed the past
and suffered me clean
the genocide of idealistic
little girls spinning down with
their throats cut
dining on mercy
and mercy prevailed
and the slaughter ceased
and the shadows recognized
the birthmark of my joy
and did not leave me without hope.....
and threaded me with meaning
and the enormous risk of failing
had no logic anymore
and a grenade was tossed
into the midst of fear
and fragmented the world
into transformation
resurrection and rediscovery
my private pompeii
occupied by anonymous bus loads of onlookers
were gone for good
a buried illness
madness transformed
obscurity appeared no more to be a handsome tourist in my path
the hour of rain
parting the reflective drops
breaking through
a critical desertion of years
chilly and cerebral
ugly on the inside
like debris catches you uneasy
now illuminated rich and full
a constellation of moments in bloom
the border between exile
and re opened wounds are faint
touched by the currents
of sooner or later
the delicate notes
of arrival.
* she's a killer
restored nearly enough
chaos passed away
a plan to awaken
under the driven concept
like a black leather outfit
fueling the other hand to act
children thus werewolves
on a revenge mission
vague little breakdowns
the night, hunting
whatsoever
an invincible new species
an ancient feud
to conquer the whole picture
and the weakness
incredibly cool
she's a killer.
*so thick like august
dark light dancing
mute girl
screams in a sewer
scratches at the dirt
darkness
to the last detail
breathtaking
like an angel banging its crimson head.
terrorfied of the night
a brutal dose of reality
swallowed
hot, stormy eyes in hell
a crawling train ride
in an evening of fog
so thick like august
roaming, a bad stranger
a head yelling damn fool!
my name is stranger
no telling
i'll show you the daybreak
on a straw bed sleep
a swamp of sure sunshine
honest and ruined. *honey and blue
honey and blue
black and white
atmosphere in a house of chains
a crackle of fluorescent lights
leaving behind the ghosts
burning roughness
but shed no tears
a murmur of falling apart
i found some silence
standing on its head
the curve fall to explosion
the veins in a concrete forehead
cutting lips, a forgotten moment
i can hear the sweat
in a temple greased
and beat in life
a held fist
i pull it back
tearing apart the day
bare nerves and blunt ferocity
we feed our fires...air
*the eyes of gravity
the final nail in the dream
grounded
born in the ashes
to dream in other words
over and over again
the assination of solice
a fatal affair with a starlett
and humanity forced god to discovery
conjuring a fractured space
a season of angst
and painful the road might be
happy to bring you ascension
spill your imperative all over me.
push uncertainties bitter plate
across the table
nothing happened, but
spread its wings in the guts
emerged in flight
then shrank and was eaten
unfound white castles
in a jungle of shacks
dug into the ground
their heads in shame
to pierce the sky in lines
suggesting the weather
in chains and softer colors.
like the eyes of gravity
from side to side
spread like turquoise
brick walls
that have been painted silent
like an empty billboard.
*there goes a myriad
life creates desire
thrown at all of us
life forgives death
but can't forgive god
god's grown too senile to care
and mother slips away
in habits
passing days in the garden
and the greed of design that kills action
soon to be swept out of focus
habitually anesthetized, numb
minutes swarm so marvelous
in the spotlight of stupidity
there goes a myriad end to irony
the moreness of everything
climbs to the threshold of change
and melts into the kisses of finitude.
*a handful of short-fuses
a spell of delirium.
between blood and fire
through blood and breath
pumping courage like propane
into gear, ground into candy
cranked the beloved torch
a fire blanket to keep players and
children alive.
a stream of gas
wearing a hood of protective urges.
a nerve wrecking siege and a handful of
short fuses.
a space walled in, bullet proof
the stars have broadened their hide out
the temperature of imagination
hauling the monsters off to hell.
bound for hunger
a live buriel stacked with pins
silence of the accused impressions
beaten lame and driven up the ladder
once again.
shut in the machine
the dream life of concrete.
crossing the border
that simmers with sugar
to a furious boil.
a spell of delirium
darkens our colors back into blood
the last charge of helium
smoldering ,only anchored by time
defiant for change
what's passed between us
between blood and fire
concealed in blood and breath
an androgynous panic
to fend of the greedy brothel of
unapologetic silver-toothed smoke.
the end to a long night of flash backs
and her needy bitch...memory
and the submissive kisses
laced in between
blood and fire.
*juliet in hell or the safe house
deliver me from the many faces
left in the weather of this house.
and isolate the noise in the walls.
the sound of juliet in hell.
bring me a world between heart
and senses.
the space smokeing quickly
the current of fire and flame.
rehearsing the flesh
with unforgettable rhythms.
going down singing
captured by the audience of night's opportunity.
unveil me human.
a moon in the street
and darkly loved for a misbegotten obsession.
badly drawn like a failed dream.
like the physics of an atomic bomb
in a small black box,
like a love story.
undergo me from the songs of
the season of this house
and drive the mystery to
the identity of fable
* intolerable ambiguity
my shroud, disappearing witness
low frequencies failed speech
throat mud.
i walked on top of the rubble
i'm done
an unbearable face, a dismal emotion
a terrible bleeding saint
a nausea for sympathy, an accidental angel.
a sort of gruesome world. exalted by agonies and self-forgetfulness.
the thing that's judged by study.
me, half ashamed, criminal, indecent.
the mind that eats its great load of guilt.
to butter my bread with wise cracks and insult.
i am no bride of heaven.
i am likable, and sometimes cruel.
i am a great deal perfect in my intolerable ambiguity.
*the screaming body
naked and cruel
all the hopeless bland cowerdice of virtue. fumbling like the rats on the tracks in the darkness of penn station.
stirred by their honesty. you ought to be ashamed.
done you no harm.
sick smile. reflex courtesy, mock courtesy.
the language of freedom
quieted into the sulleness, into plagiarisms of pleasure
self-disgust and greed of self-consciousness.
a ghostly veil you wear on the devil's highway.
"breathe"
into your lungs
confess
it bestows the sweet syrup of life to feed the screaming body.
i need this steep oxygen
the sounds of choking
reasonably quiet
invisible
sputtering, haunting, chiming.
touch me now...
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