This is work that spans approximately a seven year period in my life. I went through a lot of changes, internal and external. I was in and out of a relationship that hurt us both more than it helped, I think.


| January 6th, 2000

it seems that i have come to this
accompanied alone
out of my depth
the end draws nigh
i hear the echoes of my past
in haunted dreams
i see your faces fall

what for have i been given then
unto you
to hold my head between your hands
and weep these tears for you
which you do not understand
will not believe
foregone conclusion
carved in the stone of will
as weak as infant struggles
these things not yet made

foregone conclusion
you have yet to make
i cry for you
i weep to no one

twisting light

| March 8th, 1999

twisting light which intersects the heart
pierces cold as angel’s kisses
makes one find a feeling (needed)
for the void of certainty
cherish what we cannot hold
we stiffle (suffocate) the sun
give name to unreal blissfulness
to shock of weight of hope – will fall
beneath methodolgies curse

D is for a lot of things

| March 8th, 1999

dreaming distant dreams
destiny dawdles
dwindling darkness
draws depth down
draining death
determined doer’s don’t die . . .
drift down doorways, dour
dancing demons delight

drab, downcast, darkness drips
drink daylight dreamily

dreary death-hand draws,
doodling doom
downright despicable (doh! dippy drama)

dressed down, darling?
don’t drop diction
dreamed depth denies deception
doesn’t die

desolation dreams
death simply dies

all astral arsenic
arises around
antichrist’s and angel’s

bleak boys breathlessly
build bombs
bringing blessed burning
before beelzebub bites


| March 8th, 1999

calm waters hide interior
churning spells of butterflies
find nests in soul and flutter
with uncertainty
doubt erects sanctuary of
adverse desires
celebrate loss of way
to harbor dreams

thoughts drift to remnants
shaded smiles elude
unspoken questions
silence blinks a tear

we know that motion means decision,
know the motion means a change
know destruction waits on doorsteps
hope our trust won’t turn to blame

return without receipt

| March 8th, 1999

I wish I knew a better way
to make all this easier
without having to make it
stop . . .

they say it is
too precious a gift to return
all I need to do though
is find the damn receipt
and hope they take back
damaged goods . . .

it’s only fair
even when new
this had so many troubles,
it was never prepared
or even made
to handle all this
wear and tear
(what they call ordinary use)

maybe I’ll get lucky
and they’ll recall
my defective life
before I’m forced
to ask to see the manager
of this two-bit, nowhere joint
and forcibly return a gift
I don’t think I ever asked for
(or even wanted)


| March 8th, 1999

dripping slowly seething brain
will try to hide a single hope
keep safe from gremlins
dismantle pain
to single driving thought
push inside
beyond a shadow
into deadly dreams
where death will haunt
and wait
a sliver will allow a passage
burn down to the ground
in silent mockery
will steal the sun
and all of everything
implodes without remorse
into what once was night
but now is void


| March 8th, 1999

I wonder, wander
losing voice and grip
on what I once had held
in unsure truths
and watch this temple
of my failure
be erected by these hands
I’ve known but now just watch
they twitch in ghostly utterance
just the fractured impulses
of a mind that’s laid down
and now awaits
the coming of the end
with mask of smile
feigning innocence
for lack of understanding
hope is just a word
for taunting mistress
who holds my life
just out of reach
the key of logic
hidden in her secret places
I must kill this beast
to gain the knowledge
to truly be a man –
with no remorse –
I must try to find
what I have already become
and never breathe again