volumes upon volumes
of sacred dreams
estranged, drowning admirals
waiting to rise
through the surface
to submerge into
a tainted sky
and greet the starlit day
the crimson shells -
like blood, spread upon
the sands of
my remembrance -
color outside the lines of
reality fading on the shore
live life free of all these
staggering sighs
hide beneath these hard white tiles
layered with words
covered with false hopes and dreams
(the cellophane breathes)
the viridian layers descend
drowning what we hoped to achieve
left stringing out antiquity
until the ghosts of time
find the lock
and break the key
pin-hole moon
energy shifting
gaiaian biorhythms flux
darkness pierces light
scenic blending
worlds apart from anywhere
turns this moment
this piece of something inseparable
all encompassing
reality
into a matinée show
of the latest B-movie
cheap theatric lighting
and the rumble of a fog machine
rustling the paper leaves
poor drunks type-cast
recycle trash into shattered diamonds
digging for some peace of mind
a piece of history
laid amongst the cheap, fast
hard-up style
of modern life
rising above the decay
both moral and stone
to meet the expectations
of the searching
millions
finding some identity
within the lucid
images, it projects
copulating with the
shadows
forcing dream-children to
rise and be born
into this desperate longing
for an ancient unity
hidden in their
minds
will they ever find
will we ever find
whiskey tainted hours spent at bars . . . literally spent i wait like so much spare change for someone to pick me up . . . hoping they won’t drag me around the world….
divinity in a nutshell – god’s spine is snapped and he shouts out, “Christ” – but he has fled . . . he runs down all the back alleys of your mind and hides within the sanctuary of the broken down dreams and lack of direction . . . he haunts and hunts you down like a vicious wolf he hunts and tries to kill but knows he cannot . . . for he is not isis and only she can be the one . . . i hide from her and wait for Death . . . she is more my type you see . . . she would look at me with her infinite eyes and say, “it’s time to go, no . . . don’t worry . . . i’ll take you there” and she would hold my hand and i would truly know the sanctity of dreams and of holding the hand of a goddess who is leading you to her realm where she will put you away into the pastures to roam free . . .
the dull tainted hours pass me like a lover . . . i watch her go and see her trailing my life behind her on a chain. i try to kill her in infinite sadness i strike at her and hate her . . . i show her the way to the room with the interrogators - they’ll get her to talk. to entertain me once again. to let me out from under these bricks that seem to be pulling me down . . . allowing me to drown. will you let them? close your eyes and look at me for the first time and answer me – will you let me fall from where you have put me? down to the lions and the fiery pits of hell . . . down to where everything real is plastic and crimson – shining in this dimly lit room. down to where we hide the bottles and all the memories that flow from us like butterflies . . . down to where hurt is true, pain – we know it is real, but nothing else . . . nothing more . . .
drifting amongst the clouds i see you fall before me into the dying empires . . . the roman coliseum and you burn into what was once a childhood trip a memory back to where you once were . . . where you used to be . . . where it all made perfect sense . . .
baked, spent . . . 7 hrs ago it seems or maybe a week . . . you and me ran quietly in the sand as the sunlight shone smooth on our faces. we ran from all the dogs that live in the buildings who try to control you who know just “what” i am. they stab at us with their slick words and horn rimmed dreams but evasion prevails in our favor . . .
the trees rise to meet us as we travel through the forest of nirvana . . . the place where it all IS . . . and we look at each other, and cry to the gods “what now, we are here and have achieved nothing” and somewhere someone laughs and cries a bitter tear for mankind
images graft themselves together into so many streams of consciousness . . . i drift – floating down within you . . . sun and moon aligning with my heart . . . astronomy is all a lie . . . .
middle of the night . . . cafe’s empty . . . smokin’ a cig no one realizes that the heart within is golden painted – chipping shards into so many leaves and leaflets – invitations to balls with gowns and glass slippers, but the slipper shatters for you my dear. . . no more games or fairy tales . . . just me and my luckies and a lost broken down hearted american dream . . .
the american dream has died and along with it go all the houses and the walls all fall in upon me my eyes smoke but the fire is way to hot for you . . . you back away and watch me burn into all the beings of what they all think we once were – they don’t realize they make us this way . . . unintentional – but enough to shed a tear over?
whiskey laced and barely breathing
lost in time without a guide
thoughts of you are far from fleeting
wondering why we ever tried
to sail beyond into this madness
torn apart by foolish pride
left to float on tears and sadness
never speak, never confide
when you say those words you never say i think i love you
every time i hear you speak of things you’ve never said
why be sure when passions wind blows strongest in denial
this hunger for uncertainty will never bow it’s head
we dance alone when near each other
struggling for some peace of mind
these thousand things, never uncovered . . .
distance lingers, never find
an inner peace we hold before us
set upon the coals of time
embers burn out, turn from our trust
to a tainted dying shrine
lifeless, severed hand cannot grasp the hope it once could find in
completeness with the body in the knowledge of a need cannot enjoy
simply living without a deeper drive
i feel like a mirror would be a great place to hide
i ache
i feel
i alone