His Majesty

There is somewhere
God is hiding, cowardly.
Left ghosts to dirt
smothering their filthy souls.
Guilty from the Earth the maker had grown.
Temptation planted,
left hungry hearts to feed on poison.
Eat, children.
Taste the guilt.
Consume damned toxin,
inhale the spill.

His majesty has fled,
leaving his children

so ill.

Society's Taunting

Lost inside these tall buildings,
wept with despair;
"Oh, you poor soul."
Nowhere to turn, no place to go.

They are laughing, laughing at the insecurity.
With their big mouths and evil eyes
making that poor soul cry.

Cry until tears become words no one reads.

Until the body fades beneath the dirty paths,
Sinking.

Until, one day when none of it will matter.

When the tears have been claimed by Earth,
as well as the body that spilled them.

And all that is left is the laughter,

and the filthy mouths that made a poor soul cry.

Slam: A Vision

Faith. It's what you believe but what no one lets you see.
Not the ministers, the re-writers, the gardens of Adam or Eve.
This, no, these
are what we come from.
Where our city let our bounty lay;
In hands of orphans.
Orphans given to us from clouds and heavens
where people fell but no one truly lived.
Where a Buddah be cast up to a spirits walk
and roll over in his grave because you call him God.
A righteousness lost.
For, all men seek to have, grab, bury in gold.
But all people see not what they live for.
Holding onto a world that never loved it, because they never loved anything
more than their:
side table, television, green trees made to green wealth;
Green filth.
Take this recognition and make it into not a religion;
a word so filthy it burns the mouths of saints.
Take this vision, and turn it into the wishes,
the ambitions, the soul decision,
to live life, to be right, to let go of all that is vicious.

Hello

Hello.

Had you known I loved you?

Had you known, you would have said

"Hello." right back to me.

You would have turned your head up

and mocked me with a smile.

Because you knew, I loved you.

I taught it to my brain

held it in my palms

& rolled it across my tongue.

& all along,

every breath I took

every part of speech I stuttered

was all an attempt

to say

"Hello. I love you."

Lost; There's No Place Like Home

It is still ugly in my head:

I write the word over again.

It curls all messy, like a dirty mop

cleaning up poodle hair.

Staring straight at me,

I knew this was a mistake...

But my head too stubborn to admit

I need to go home.

Where is this place?

Lost.

I was just stopping by.

Love is:

Love is a window

dirty with leaves.

Left to chip paint;

Found it, no breeze.

Beneath its seal,

grimy from trees;

Mold of the Earth,

swallow overgrown dreams.

Beautifully ugly--

Eyes like amber

gleam beneath glass waves:

shooting through

the window's pane.

& Love 

is a highway

passing through lanes

drowning in silence

this vibrating stage.

Define: LOVE

Feed it all it really wants

kiss it on its head.

Keep it 'til the light burns out;

Until we deem the world dead.

Give it all our flesh can bare,

kick until its numb,

nourish it with colored lines,

scrape it to the crumb.

Hold it 'til it feels no worry,

skip until it coos;

Let it own the futures word,

reciting all we knew.

Love is more than a playwright

a kiss, hello, ado;

Love is beyond the meaning of life;

A human, a me, a you...

More complicated and dramatic

than the writings of solid proof.

Love is not to be foretold

until the world comes unglued.

New Love (for Jessie)

This man

so covered in moss and dirty growth;

He has harbored my heart,

opened my soul.

And I am binding the branches,

cleaning the crevices,

drinking all the muck and mud

to make a new life;

Climb inside.

The hollows are warm and gentle,

sweet and clean.

He is the most remarkable making

I have ever seen.

A shining something

covered in silk

kissing on branches of butterfly milk.

I lie in the grass at his roots just below,

staring to the marvel that stand high above.

And I shout to the treetops,

I am in love.

Sailor's Siren

In the distance I hear you dreaming
of a siren's song, I feel her singing.
Glass, her eyes; They fixate, gleaming.

Waves of winter bring you now
closer to the witch's house.
Curling fingers, slimy mouth;

Your mind screaming, "someone let me out".

Drowning quick, she's fast! She'll take you
when no one else is here to save you.
Taking life, a subtle race
to that of the smile upon her face.

She licks her lips, a reddish goo;
which once was the subtle hue of you.

Theory And The Big Bang

There is no one.
There never has been.

The aisles dark, roads set to gloom.

A face buried in itself

crying

"wolf, wolf!"

...

but no one came.

For no one was there to come.

Until from the shadows slithered a tongue,

& once upon a time

a creature arrived.

Not a simple someone, but a whole something.

Bursting through the moth's dust

bringing light to this place;

You were blinding -

My eyes!

Never had a pain felt so sweet.

You came
to end all ends
and begin here,

with something new, called 'us'

For, we sit among the gloom

yet, it not feel so dark 

now that I share this place with you.

Something Like A Dream

Something like a dream about you.

Wishing upon stars.

Wading in moonshine's lake - 

Silk attire across sandbars.

It is the very act of drowning

in a sweetness, rich and dark.

On this journey, call it love

Come, let us embark.

Step-Monster

How can a woman be so cold?
As if a demon swept up her soul -
Took it away to the hollows beneath,
kept it in stomach, held as a feast.

This wicked, she stands,
a mosquitoed mouth
burrowed in victims
swallowing shouts.

Holds no mercy
to the truest believer,
crushing their will
as they stand just beneath her.

Will no morning come? Will no victim rise?
To cast her down through photographer's eyes?
To gaze then, upon her
to show her what's what!
May no glory save us
from this feminine smut?
May no warmth become her?

A bottle, a pen
this ink will destroy her
killing her, then.
Taking her reign to a solid end.

My Reaper, such a humble friend by comparison.

The Mystic Runaway

Beyond the seventh tower

across the raven's grasp

lie a tiny wire comb

atop this iron path.

Underneath such tower

live a liar, there.

Finely combing every thread

of her wire hair.

Asking

"Can you save me?

Will you meet me, where?"

Yet her pleas stand,
a siren's song,
floating in the air.

For the path has gone,

the wire, sod,

& just a liar there.

Ugly

I wish I was so ugly

like the stars

in their gaseous bursts

so ugly

like the moon

divots, holes in its skull.

Ugly

like the discolored leaves

dropping to

such beautiful human's feet.

If I could be

so lucky

to become

So ugly.

Relativity

How may I categorize the hatred in you

when there is so much in everyone else?

& how may I find you so evil

when I find no saint within myself?

My Planet Gave Me A Name

Help.

The line is breaking,

shattering bones -

tendrils shaking.

Help.

Discarded blood.

Holding ashes in her hood...

Fists to fight

for what's good.

...What's good?

Help.

The ground is gone -

floating here now, far too long.

Eating nice

from dirty palms.

Help.

We need you now.

You!

Yet you not know how

to do...

become the vow

that helps

the line that's breaking

saves the Earth from scattering, shaking.

Help.

Our bodies to become what's good.

What is good?