| March 10th, 2006

Obtuse – a word depicting
ignorance, possibly feigned

rough as paper dolls
sharp edged to the touch
coarse feeling(s)
preliminary thought unwinds
muddled brain
my head turns in circles
solid underneath my feet
ground rising to my steps
thoughts of you in this distant
what am i to do

the air finds nothing within me
disconnected ideas of a better day
thoughts of home
and a place in your arms

worlds played out on paper
well lit cigarettes
humble beginnings of a man

another time perhaps
a century even
away from fueled machines
and choking sparrows
words as stepping stones
to my escape

my business is that of
not being seen
if performed well
i am invisible

somewhere in the middle
something good will come


| January 3rd, 2006

all these sobering thoughts
and the pen feels so distant
the beauty of nature
   snow upon these leaves
all nothing . . . fading
   it dies

a lifetime of waiting
   for a start
of working toward a moment
   where I can begin
letting all this go
   fresh chances and a new name
a way to see myself
   again with innocence
not shrouded by deeds
   and passing thoughts
   of uncertainty

all this too familiar
   an old friend
   or enemy
come to haunt the
   black hour of
   this verbal dissention
a mockery of wasted

thoughts from the kitchen

| November 13th, 2004

Will scream what must be still
said all the mad drunken
blackness needs
elaborate dreams of lazy death
in whispers sings over frantic blood
eternity in languid moon
I am the vision
the mist

a moment alone

| June 26th, 2004

earth rises true to root
forgiving mother strips down barriers
ego driven unity permits a
feeling of no feeling
loss of self in mind
belong to what we are
and not what we believe –
lies of games and mold undone
the pieces fall
like leaves in wind of change
the rustling of lack of thought
flows in to fill that
which we had forgotten

feast of virgins

| April 1st, 2004

orgiastic feast of virgins
see the hollowness inside
flex the tired, broken sermon
selling solid peace of mind

wither while the free-will falters
harbor heartless majesties
hypocrites bring forth these alters
sacrifice so all can see


| March 8th, 2003

piece by piece
I bring it home
in these cold hours
with thoughts alone
construct a life
fill in the holes
with trinkets
(memories to hold)

I rebuild the process
without your hand
make these things mine
in hopes to stand
not to fall)

random thoughts

| March 8th, 2003

i’ve stripped myself of my art
the tools discarded
to collect so many
emotional voids

if i tell myself it doesn’t hurt
it shouldn’t

hearing your voice on tape
recorded so far back
when things were happy
brings me closer to the farther away
shows me everywhere i went wrong
and how you must have hated me
for needing you SO much
and how now you don’t know what to
when i look past my tears into your
saying, “everything can change…
all i want
is for things to be
the same”

So long ago i became Me of Me & You
that now i cannot find myself
while you never really lost yourself in Us
and just existed as You accompanied by Me

my thought wheels spin beyond reason
i ache to have your arms around me
you lie next to me, indifferent in sleep
i keep the watch of the rising sun
hoping soon to find peace
to stop these electric pulses
which hold me from sleep
to stay this fear
which racks my body

scared by ghosts of thoughts
would wake you
but would feel ashamed
grown men should not be haunted
by words
should not be kept awake
by anxiety and loneliness

never having had choice before
what was made may not be wise
a simple utterance of instinct
an attempt to relive these things
to find myself within you again
but at what cost?
at whose expense?


sleeping beside me
goddess of night unfolds her thoughts
in complacent sighs she whispers eternities
i lay beside her and wait ’til day
brings her about again to talk to
to laugh with

but for now she has regained her innocence

words from a box

| March 8th, 2003

your beauty strikes me, slowly

as the silence lays between us
like a stillborn child
we created in our
twisted copulation
we both regret our actions
not yet committed

hide inside,
try not to wonder
slide on by,
world torn asunder
hold the ground
to keep from drifting
kill the sound
now souls are shifting

pressure changes
vision strays from focus
fluctuation, blur and bend
floating soul, can’t touch
the ground
internal waves pixelate
towards edges
where they dissipate

i swear, it feels like
the end of the world

without hope of
withered words
waiting while

folding things back
upon themselves
we find a shorter path of travel
a way to connect
without the cause of effect
the Kronal Ojeckal demon slain
we walk through the invisible gates
of eternal light to come out
– indeterminate spacial
occupation, half in the
pool of flesh . . . remainder
still floating on thoughts
of greater nothing, still
burning in ‘void of form’,
blissful slow burn

america the beautiful

| March 8th, 2003

buildings spread like cancer
across the horizon line
strip mall temples
monetary sacrifice to the gods
materialism as diety
bow down before unnecessity
before retched excess


| March 8th, 2003

when trust has blown away
like so many fractured moments
leaving me fragmented and stillborn
in my ignorance
i tremble at your thoughts
and dream of placid certainty
of my place in your life
i long for days when i will be much more
than this bright and sparkling nothing
which fades when overcome by darkened
tortures hidden deep within my mind
how i wish for vibrant stillness in the
knowledge that i will never hurt you

at night i lay awake in fear that
i have broken this precious gift,
your trust, into pieces too small
to reassemble