country grass in my hair iv

Unconscious I put a screen
Over my blue veins
I screamed quiet whispers
In my pillow
When the wind came
And thunder shook windows
Blue above my door
And simple things I hear
Brooks of blue
I’m lost in you
Echo in my ear
Your last tears I’m sorry for you
Who I took
And your lost life
Once I got here I forgot
What’s the game?
I’m a monkey
Watch the circus
See my cage

country grass in my hair ii

She’s a dog in the night
When I’m feeling scared
But please don’t pull my hair
Lunar Woman with your champagne eyes
Will you be my friend?
Crazy sexy zebra
Tomorrows never coming
Let me take your hand
Cruising to the future with my Baby Jewel
Bound to strike a planet
Comet speed I’ll run for you
His cotton goose going to another land
And plain white heaven you can see
Her face has lost all color
A happy smile
And the lonely tree on river

country grass in my hair i

A fearless goose
Whose rider’s features are drowned
Beneath the wind
And torn from this life
Like a sliding satellite
Throws a noose across a gate
My faded broken limbs
And still like a boy
Treats the world with royal joy
See Moth King attack Cat in Black
Wooden house in heat of night
My mango leaves
Is attracting bees
Tiptoeing on water
Body stiff as dead flowers
We can go as we please

Whispers to Sea: XI

Conditions and maintain close Penthesilea, Queen of the Amazons that don’t know where they’re going. The train moves, it’s quiet as the aisles darken outside they industrial factory facades. His dull lamp gives light who we have touched? Who field or meadow where hashish, their days of calamity and enter trucks passing by Californian are traveling all alone by freight, the small glittering is thin and crisp and a man driving out ill company. A child in the driver’s and lights and destroyed the endeavor us through. No vehicles on the street, bodies around me heave as Marxist way, victory through to finally lay eyes on foreign leaning over head hung low. The first district beyond the bridge. I can hair (is quite sickening) an’ the water is stagnant almost world is not a problem in itself. Watching my steps chirping calls of the hill. A mother and a baby hummingbirds in black mamba hidden in the briefcase blocking the way. Deluge back to safety continuing a metamorphoses tip-toe and deer grazing at the concrete and left a foam splashed over faces, we ran. Black body and thin Bengal a storm tree metamorphoses, locks, a pair of blood filled mountain is slick with mud and some guilt in the inability to pane, holding a mirror in the excited about the building a map. Staring into space, visions of steam, lost illusions, Balzac teaching the deer of trusting in October atmosphere slowly changing from red – The middle class of our country singing of the revival of her spirit, to beat the system by criminology occupied by a simple lamp and crashing salty waves against a bottle of Courvoisier while white ceramics, “Does that taste funny?” Not connected at the lips. I wanted to a toad stared at Christian family stores in Tijuana in the hand of an ascetic bathing pistols in the air outside old still, beads raise slowly across Buddha’s bedcovers would lightly freeze. Of the Cascades, karate to know her people and speak her here! While dull conversation fills the air, sitting with his head in his hands across the blue firmament. I and tried to lecture me the window at downtown B. in most enlightened being into begin the water for tea and a field vast and green, studded with in space. On it with the help of a stencil – Black magic grab you in a spell – Humanity obscure the blue horizon – The forest, he spanned the heaves in his second torch of my immortality, a symbol. World’s largest marine reserve. World’s first fossilized dinosaur brain may time goes. Noble birth while humanity’s excrement homeless man poverty and hardship or in a condition from Paris forgotten how to stand – Over the small corner of land.

Whispers to Sea: X

Always take into account the prevailing echo and the babble voice for love. Mathriawi by Rumi. The conductor offers rides to people, people whisper and murmur but as it seems we take our leave soon, past construction trucks equipment familiar but never to home. Hide you, judge by the amount and then into the enormous continue tirelessly on others quit where you can hardly hear. I feel pain to see people who, traveling Dunsmuir California, and the air, water deep voyage, valleys tease my eyes. The Lord gave them wings in another town calmly rolling four hours past and sleeping. The points of a child’s hands, excited, walks down the aisle to and fro, two ups of black coffee. Benecia the grabbing running fingers through although the town is not on stilts the animal air cool, a hare on the hill carefully, a horse having breakfast at the base. Appear at the bottom of the front window, Hanzo clown, large fallen trees. Furies rain and raced the price of freedom. The odyssey high above horses with one foot. The road, the water submerged rise, and water from the heavens like a reverse tiger with a one another thru a valley, before I’m behind seven her fruit and the smooth rolling there maybe thought through cloudy window. Chop wood through the mazes of my mind pajamas yelling at intruders over the desert. Sooner or later you’ll go away…. Faust Goethe towards a deer would involve through on Thursday mornings dragonfly through the purple atmosphere behold, the problem in America, our own. Modern kids traveling to California cause from flying into a room, beautiful liquid pearl for the trip and polished off sipping hot tea from familiarity, the bottle hanging from the hip if loneliness like me. Water from a leaky roof dropped the G.O.P. holed up inside a little mouse who falls Vanity Fair by Thackeray. Crevice of town shooting quietly held their peace when all is water out of a well. Sometimes British Columbia, along the east barks at a child at tempting from it to navigate her waters. Get outta mind and ask me to sit quietly. I had seen in the past an old man, radiance produced a yellow haze. Coach sate me down from the game, any other normal day. Looking out, don’t know it yet and the meditation I begin to stir. Moving I am a poet and my name denotes bacteria get dangerously weird case with some words spray painted the Seven Seas to have that old virtue. Dark rolling clouds of in the suburbs but no longer in Bali. I hold up an autumn tree as a AT&T-Time Warner merger Everest dies. Are when you see where you oxygen is the product of a plant’s one dog feels lonely just like a abide long either in a condition of to call from Aleppo and stray like that having, but sprawling.

Whispers at Sea: VIII

Collective leadership should be on by law are cancelled out by actual cucullus nonfacit monachum. Heiderberg, the middle of the two cars and long light dressed as a sort of.. My night next to her mom and we start under current leading to secret. The clouds that obstruct his view fulfill our desires as the asking for money through the night, woods, gem and sage wrapped sky. Midnight through the roof. The yellow train is on the capacity. The mother of the ship is launched in to the sky. Stone walls often protrude feats of common bravery being filled, every time peeking. But I am, less until the day, giant. One of these for our arrival! Who is to judge our capacity? The bushes on the highway, for all. It has a canal running the dog howls at his yourself will become alive as me. Birds call from trees above there is a liquid a the soft holes, rings around the blazing sun. “Hey man, what we dancing on? The Dead of Bed number?” The one another through the valley runs on the beam. The Artist, Mother Nature, was held as most running and pivoting – I’m playing sea. Giant redwood trees and window on Abovian Street there, bottom of the giant hill outside. For the horse doesn’t, I wanted through the neighborhood or along or am I really trapped along grumbling to who will rushing, all you need is a shack to get by, Atlas Shrugged Ayn Rand. California window where happen to pass by turkeys dancing around the apple taking place within a month to nurture Mother Nature to her. A new Dr. Faustus with a love of thinking of a moth folding slowly quivering in my cup. We walked thru Martinez restaurant Chan’s, a favorite of “Tha’s what I’m sayin’.” Demanding order to carried out by I. Might as well be alone in a room crust of Earth to harmonize news, high fashion jewelry, pizzeria. The teeth are bared and one mouse falls from the beak. The Fox by D.H. Lawrence. Some foreign substance peeking the room. Two candle flames dance the snow we stepped our way of Oregon. Requirement so dumb people survive off the kindness of a fellow. Water? 500. Weren’t the one listening. I’ve covered myself with individuals. It’s 5:03 no one is in a hurry and other vegetables staring. Have I gone astray? A normal breakfast of great secrets of reality and seeing, and lightly to tap, and Marcellus? Would you leap from the Shiite militants join in push pride. In front of me a young man with – will he be made a spectacle of as if dressed? Meanwhile everywhere you seem weaving pathways on spilled autumn by the divine impression of the foot. Truths heavy on my mind. Night into new dimensions I breathe. There is another heaven and destroy drug price gauging hits hospitals too, Haitians struggling to find clean water, pay a dollar. You start to see complacency, you have the audacity to puppies like them. But the wild wind blows them hither. Book IV of the Analects: II. All by myself I cast my image over all shapes, the other half scattered. Allow the passerby to offer me, who are considered tame, with branches blessed by the graces.

Ecstasy or Pain

Will you be sincere 

Whispering into the juice box (jukebox) scared

The music, after all the lights are turned out for the day, still plays for ghostly spirits past midnight once a perverted chill takes hold of the concrete.

In the Pacific North-West a lone trail rolls through forest bending into Klamath hill. 

An orange light betokens a cabin abandoned between the trees. And quiet you can hear Alan Vega from an uknown source, some speaker cracking in the dark. 

Only one hears the voices inside ones’ head

I may rise from the dust 

Sipping on juice box innocent, just a boy

Or someone else.

Am I queer to dance? Or expressing all boundaries of human soul? Is it still of me to question if I am man, or woman?

What do I do?

Whose name is moaned from my lips in ecstasy or pain?

Reflections on Moving Glass

What makes man understand unconditional love, while realizing that one can embody a demeanor, or outlook, that is inferior, evil, unconscious?

What makes time pass by slowly under the employment of a generation before me that has lost all regard for the value in youth? And pass quickly under the sky alone or with a loved one? Infusing your time with love, or building sand castles out of sand.

Sadly, I don’t know myself. More often than not I am carried away by an unproductive klesha, or simply dumb-brained thinking of static. My empathy know bounds. It seems that the more successful an individual becomes the more hatred they  view what is misunderstood, and more walls are built between their comfort and reality.

I find myself hating the youth – I don’t see myself in them. I don’t see myself in fathers yelling at 5 year old daughter who is pushing a wheelbarrow to the curb. 

I almost cut my hair in a Cadillac arguing with crazy men. Why does anyone expect another life to spend eight hours cooped up inside? What makes people comfortable with wasting life? Our only gift.

I see grown men struggle with actions I accomplished by 15. I see them work slow, stupid, and self assured. Pretending this is the life they planned to live.

At times I grow tired of the man I am becoming, and want to leave this world drowned or hung, realizing how alone one is. Sleep stains the grass. The bodies are not breathing.

I don love my fellow American. Without much thought I wouldn’t treat the majority better than a dog. Suburbs are insane asylums for the upper middle class illusion keeping capitalism alive. White America is a spiritual ghetto. White America set on fire.

I have picked stones from the crust of Earth and watched the mud crumble and stain my hands. In the spring I’ve heard swallows collide in mid-air during mating and the acrobatics of love.

— I have hated my countrymen for who they are.

I have not known my origin. 


You will see angry men, sensitive and insecure. Take off your angry sunglasses! Or an old lady reaching for French bread pizzas in the frozen section. 

“Where is my past of mounding dough down some stone canal in France?” A woman – Lone. “Where are my memories? Don’t you get them anymore?”

With dirty eyes peeking from a barred pharmacy window facing the street.

An escape from noise – To watch you 

Take off your wig on the cobblestone…

“Sure let’s crack it open, eh?”

Separating yourself from the identity that your family has only recently learned to love – and around the corner your running…

And old men shoot the enemy as they stumble away, down some railroad tracks in Prague, Manhatten, or Nice

Died mumbling.

I’ve seen leaders send their armies through the golden gates unlocked by Peter. Out these doors you left a man and returned beyond recognition, clawing through clouds and metal in order to reach the ones you love.

That loved you… Those who are no longer with you on Earth

Have forgotten the sound of your voice, and in the mirror stands a different man, numb – and sad like always in the dark giggling, clutching your knees and idiot.