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

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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

Colonel Kurtz

One song
Separate song
Year of the eclipse
I don’t really care
Until it happens –
Look, meet me halfway
One song on rock to winded
Sailors
Dreaming of farmer girls
And lonely seabirds –
A man
With grenade launcher in Vietnam,
Stands numb,
Can show you to Captain
In land with no captain
Talks plainly
Just stares
And the land where my
Grandfather’s ashes
Is worth millions
Future settlers of
America —
Admire the bridges
And small rooms, quiet homes
Tear down every building you can
See and start in the mud
It is hard to sing in the face
Of any face
A song of happiness
But it shows the best of our
Being
Don’t give the wicked too much
Power – surely do not give
Your time away to Evil
Do not write of what should not be
Fulfilled
Never stare the nighttime
Howl.

California Eugene [fragment]

The skull wears a crown, He is king
A horse pushes curious nose
Into the eyes of a creature
That adores him.
In reflections of a still pool
Or, slightly running stream, You
can see, in reflections, the water
Ripples and waves, a
Human hand reaches toward an interested doe
and the moment is Frozen in time.
Footsteps of a small kitten dipped
into the pure white snow and
Carefully rescued, with a soft cry,
from the cold.
And then the Cat himself, sitting on top
of a mailbox with Man.
Red

Whispers to Sea: IV

Must be given full expression wealth but were kept in misery in Italy babbles, let my eyes not see. Greek poet Tractatus Logico-Philosophius. Mom left us at the train station and even at the small stench of the bathrooms can be fixed, complaining about the space in, perhaps, a spot moved from your familiar shoulder causes his strenuous lights. Her chest heaving with chasing me with their long teeth. The road under all the stars. As soon as one may rest his head we weave around the bases of Joyce, Huxley, D.H. Lawrence, where small canyon walls would, somewhere in northern California masculine thing but seen, take flight. She holds his shirt the moon taketh away. We stop for a minute and so there were, “Who is the man behind with yellow?” Her strong steady fingers. Everything sit like stone behind me to the left. Destination – but it is the final minutes are home ready to receive her and white on top sitting in the bay. Kisses and groping you flowers. It has quiet streets harmonizes as their Goethe, “Stirb und werde.” Knowing the future. But as I open my eyes, strange prize pierced between two call comes from a woodpecker; opening your eyes to the fog. The bell tolls for red desert hills beautiful tree in the rain. Giants Smoker, Plato, King’s Range of a little rock. The beach, small sandy hills and the shore. Small birds danced in, find no familiar entrance or roaming herds of cows and horse. Small opening in the part quiet horses stand in the pasture a game I became, upstairs without a friend. Simple, the fire is personal timekeeper so old and slow, fluffy are still – at noon. The last stop. Current situation; hill softly lit by sun, low branch whose plant is side once can see a different picking fresh zucchini. The full pond behind the apple tree. Nonsense to be flooding through the compassion we are able to bring strange with a fire not emitting heat, black pebbles on the beach, that lets out song exclaim it is worth more than gold. Train before home – Addicted. Hills to the coast of Shelter where ‘Free Prime Rib Mondays’. My hands just, I saw them, bellowing from their nostrils. Enjoy the ride song as the toads in before this it road. Eyes half open, patient. The mountain is mightier confessions of an American opium only to observable by myself. Thy hand? Windowsill wooden flute tossed. Conquered territories like the stove. Then we could use it for human brain scramble at dawn with the fuzz plate sitting on the middle of thicker forest through plains of muddy marshes where the disguised charity and you only get one life long. All the beauty being shared behind the small cabin whose new shell reflecting a flame in dark lit apartments autumn desert. The jar in the mood when we witness a Richard II, Vilette. With a flame and as the constant words are silly people barbarous and election central place in the city and also a coffee shop in our neighborhood. The jasmine unites and intertwines new detail so they stare and slowly that require and estimated distance. Staring into the warm abode and causes Ursa’s seven stars to roll over my right shoulder. Water one of the multitudes. Within it’s fields I shall laugh silently. My soul is to murmur tender secrets in her ear. Anxiety Syrian air strikes on Aleppo amid intense Chile’s socialists take a beating. Sit aside on a rock and ponder when he whines it sounds like it burned and, “Up there against the wall.” The Champion rose to leave his spouse’s shut naked lunch to the sun’s lip, to the skirt. Half of it’s number, one of your sidewalks but to roar with my chin placed at the very edge of the world. Thoughts are clouds in the sky.