Passings

This book is dedicated to

Aleece I could not have been more blessed to have a daughter such as she.

This would not have been possible without some very special people in this world and in my life. I owe Francesca DeLeandro a debt I can never pay, without her this

book would not be. She brought this all to the place that it could be touched. Thank you for touching me You mean everything to me.

May thanks to all my family for the support.

Many thanks go out to Tony Thomas, best friend in life, Christal Dall, a great pho-tographer and has provided me with some of the best textures I could ever find plus

fantastic Photoshop brushes which I use almost exclusively (other then my own), many thanks also to Sophia Tsibikaki for many great textures and stock.

P E PL E

T o a l l t h e s e p e o p l e y o u a l l w i l l n e v e r k n o w h o w m u c h I c a r e

O

A L I E N

S o m a n y q u e s t i o n s w e h a d . . . n o a n s w e r s

p u s h t h e s a t u r a t i o n c o l o r t o p u s h y o u o f f a c l i f f

S P A C E S I N B E T W E E N

A L I E N Who what (huh) when there... Time has come... WriteWhat is this thing. Must I tell you

Chip marks... Triberadio... what is this who is thisBorn in the 50’s Joe Jackson said, or better yet sang

There was something about it, a certain tackA quality of futuristic dreaming that has been lost today

He looked at everything and watched everythingHe wanted everything ( he still does)

Never afraid to risk life limb and heartDiving in for a swim was never a fear

AlienFeeling of being totally different then the people around him.

I felt this growing upYes its me... In the first person

What am I doing here? I’m telling a little storyTossing fragments to winds and see if they carry to you

Wondering if these pieces fit into your puzzleThat we may find a common point. A place where we can start

I live in the middle of nothingI travel treeless highways looking for the lost

That sounds so poetic but in fact it is quite trueI’ve wondered about it

Why do I travel these roads looking for these lost placesAlmost like I’m looking for myself in the basements of these homes lost

I wrote this for youI wrote this and created and captured these images for you

From what I gathered on the ground. What you left meThese treasures you gave to me... all of you

You didn’t know it but I saved everything. Boxes full in my mindFrancesca De Leandro told me

Your work is the record of your lifeThat you existed... that you were

This is my record, scratched as it may seemMy love for the moment captured, for beauty and decay

For the moments standing at deaths door wondering why I wasn’t given a keyThough this record is only a glimpse I hope it is a view you find

Find inside you as something we hold together

I do not hold it back

I love words, I love typographyEvery photograph is value to me, there is no “bad” shot

They are moments of a heartbeatI love to mix these things into a subtle weave

I look there and I see you in the threadsI remembered I loved you as your smile smears to televised mistakes

I look to clouds summer daze, baby Jesus and a popsicles

It melts in the street, more shapes to destroy obsolete valuePoor white trailers fly by when I drive

I’m looking for you out hereI’m creating this record in hopes you will see

That all that exists is color and shapePools of liquid around knees that pray

S o m a n y q u e s t i o n s w e h a d . . . n o a n s w e r s

S P A C E S My work flows like rivers not mineI wonder sometimes if this work really is mine

p u s h t h e s a t u r a t i o n c o l o r t o p u s h y o u o f f a c l i f f

Chip Marks, aka Cary Vaughn Marks is my older brother, 5 and ¼ years to be exact. There is a picture of him at the beginning of this book with our mother at the hospital when she had given birth to me. The reader can see that even then he was a handsome fellow. I often wonder how it must have felt to be the youngest for all those years and then have this little girl come in and take over. I was only lucky or unlucky enough to be the youngest for 22 months, not enough to come to know what it was really like. Plus, I was prone to great tantrums so I don’t think anyone thought of me with great love and affection, and I escaped their desire to shape the oldest male heir to the Marks name. A tremendous and I imagine very heavy legacy in our family. A legacy that I am grateful I missed. If you have had a big brother you might appreciate how I felt about him. I loved Chip, and lived in awe of everything he did. I was also very afraid of him; he had a strength and power that I could never imagine having

for myself, especially since I was so little and alas a girl. In a recent conversation with my best friend from child-hood, she said how afraid she was to come to our home. Partly it was the amazing unstableness of our mother, the remoteness of our older sister, and our exquisite and at times paralyzing fear of Chip.

Because even then Chip pushed the edge, exploring the places that from our youthful place appeared (indeed were) forbidden and unacceptable. And I loved every thing he did, and hoped that I could one day approach his stan-dards. This took me down some very strange alleys as I looked for the roads to get there. I remember Chips childhood nightmare. He had to sleep with the closet door closed because sometimes he would see a skeleton in the closet. I would go into his bedroom, which was dark and teenage brother like, a place where mystery lived… There would be Mad magazines, shades that were always drawn, and a funny smell like incense or other things that weren’t really known or allowed. And his closet always held his nightmare for me. My closet was fine, but his closet was a dark and shadowy place. Once I dreamed I was sleeping in his room, or maybe I was sleeping in his room, and his fear came and sat at the end of my bed. We talked and it was very scary, so much power in this ghoulish figure. To this day I remember the strength of my feeling, it was a huge fear. I think our fears became friends back then, and maybe they still lurk in dark places together. I see a picture of us as a family when I was two. The local paper photographed our father serving us Lebanese food, our family heritage. There was a new baby in my mother’s arms, and our hair was not all in place like it should be for a public picture. This is a cue that the stress has been building. I have my knife in hand to attack the stuffed grape leaf before me. My mother and sister are looking at me with horror, like a wild animal is on the loose, and how will she wreck this moment? But not Chip. He is look-ing at me with such delight! He loved that I would screw everything up, and encouraged this child to take risks and express her wild nature. Perfect order wasn’t the highest goal. He liked breaking the rules, exploring and allowing chaos, and challenging authority that was not worth allegiance. As you will or have seen this continues in his art and his words. My mother told me that Chip’s nickname came from him being a "chip" off the old block. I never quite saw that connection. He looked like my fa-ther, the brown curly hair, blue eyes, and nose of a 100% Lebanese born and blooded man. (Yes, those Phoenicians sprinkled a lot of Aryan genes into the Lebanese gene pool, and these were manifest in my father while his parents looked truly Middle Eastern.) But their essential natures did not seem to honor this "chip" theory. Mostly I remember Chip and my father fighting, the pressure for him to conform and be the "successful" son was very high. Whether it was the swim team, school, or his friends, there were many expectations. The expectations were high and success was minimal. Even success was not seen for success but as a stepping stone toward a greater, more elusive version of the same story. So Chip went down the roads where his genius could flourish outside of the spheres that my parents measured as successful. He was a musician and an

artist, and they despaired. Although in secret I think my mother rejoiced. Because this was her essential nature, a musician and artist locked in the closet as a mother in the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s. On the outside she embraced order, structure, and image but inside she was eternally in rebellion. After a bet with friends she went on television when I was 5 to dance as a go-go girl, and later she was a booking agent for rock and roll bands. At the same time she wanted to belong to the best country clubs, and have showcase children. So our oldest sister adopted her outside story while Chip lived out her inside fantasies. The rest of us watched the drama unfolding. She loved his art. His pictures and sculptures were very special; they hung on the walls and perched on shelves long after he left home. I never thought of Chip as a failure in my mother’s eyes, she recognized and knew him in her soul. His areas of music and art seemed like miracles to me. To my father he was often someone who needed fixing, and my father could never do it. He loved but he could not provide the fixing that was the most desper-ately needed, which was to accept and support this incredible son they had produced. To see genius and allow it to unfold without judgment, something that I know my father had never received and did not have to give. Chip was always a big part of my life. His opinion meant a lot to me, and I tried very hard to be worthy of his notice. For many years he would not talk to me alone, yet it did not stop me from joining him and his friends as they continued to push the limits in their personal lifestyles, their music, and their lives. I knew I could go very far at pushing the envelope and still be in safe territory because his choices created so much space in our fam-ily. I would always look like the good kid, traveling the edges of acceptable lifestyles and even go over without notice. He was a lightening rod, and lightening passed me by to end up burning him. Chip likes learning. Every medium that he explored became his cre-ation tool. And he learned them well, taking them to their very limits without ever being taught. I imagine it continues to be his joy to challenge and push things beyond their perceived limits, to discover new territory, and then go even farther. And he does not let the opinions of others stop the expression of his self, in fact I believe opposition spurs him to explore deeper and more intensely himself and the medium that he is using to express the essence of this. He is basically self taught. While he likes learning, he is not one to immerse himself in other peoples’ structures and launch his creativity from there. His learning does not come from school or teachers in the traditional sense, but seems to evolve from inside himself as he immerses deeply into the medium that he is passionately attracted to at the moment. I imagine him following the road map of his soul as he engages inside and moves from there toward unfolding the images, thoughts and music that honor what is birthing at that moment. And this book Passings is one of those moments in which the muse has taken him down the road of the soul. Whose soul I will leave you to wonder…

QI passed to you one more time, the element of my heart.

H E A R TSlow ending to a stale dream broken and unrepairable.

I t w a s o n l y w o r t h a g l a n c e b e f o r e i t s i n e v i t a b l e d i s p o s a l , a n d I s t o o d t h e r e a n d w a t c h e d i t a l l .

u i e t p a s s i n g s o n c e a g a i n f r o m l e s s o n t a u g h t y o u n g .

I w i l l n o t w a l k t o n i g h t . Pa s s i n g s c a l l f ro m e m p t y h i d i n g p l a c e s .

H E A R TG L A N C E

a g l a n c e b e f o r e

I walk to the edge once again to smell the airs. What I long for. I sit for days on that edge, cold and tired it waits for me to slip once again. Calling me with steps toward darkness that stops time.

W A T C H E D

I t w a s o n l y w o r t h a g l a n c e b e f o r e i t s i n e v i t a b l e d i s p o s a l , a n d I s t o o d t h e r e a n d w a t c h e d i t a l l .

u i e t p a s s i n g s o n c e a g a i n f r o m l e s s o n t a u g h t y o u n g .

I w i l l n o t w a l k t o n i g h t . Pa s s i n g s c a l l f ro m e m p t y h i d i n g p l a c e s .

H E A R TG L A N C E

These forever moments Ever losing ground in a constant fight to remain real Wondering about the necessity of existing beyond the next breath Waiting on this last battleground for the smell of your essence The scent I will never hold except in my last breathing moment Hurry please as the last memories of you drain from me in crimson pools Only your fingers can hold back this final dream filling my eyes, warm red regrets These rooms grow darker in blessed moment’s goodbye Cold breath of my keeper’s debt coming for payment Blue hearts cut beyond patience depth Seconds languish for they have no final timetable Mine is gone in far flung lament, prayers lost green blue bow My penitence in eternal ruins, glass edges open hearts red morrow

You will not remember these words tomorrow. I wonder in the final moments if you even re-member my face? If you could not, how could I blame you when I do not remember myself.

The mirror tells me tales in every scar, skin and fabric lost in time. I have walked far behind your shadow wondering if you would ever

turn. You did... away. Far away. Some things are not meant . The patterns all around me. Spells and sentences that you would never

speak. Would I have listened even if you would have spoke the words? In a moments crystal blue goodbye. I saw your lips move in this

dream tumbling lost. Passings in the bat of an eye, elegant smells of burnt slumber engulf me to a bitter end. Would you even want to know

me if I gave you all the keys. Running from door to door these white hallways fade slowly in my mind. Sepia celluloid seconds chase an-cient time frames to your inevitable end. Blood

flowing sands these red tides caress. Your dreams of dark waters deep. You and I slip into unconsciousness, ice blue kisses. Minutes last

breath in a cold wet fade.

YOU WILL N

I send my sounds off to you I play them softly, sleeping time Tears on key simple melodic descent You know this sound well, it falls to your dreams We slip to these simple things in silent agreement Leaves gather in audience to this moment of divine sound Fingertip like a child’s, tender moments touch Swirling memories not of our making We watch from the side as they dance to this movement This is not ours but we inhale it like nourishing winds Salty and wet, lips touch in sounds of lost yesterdays

P L AY T H E M S O F T LY

P L AY T H E M S O F T LY

left for chances you never hadwe thought you should have benefit of the doubt

left for chances you never hadwe thought you should have benefit of the doubtthe

You felt my moves. This longing ghost in simple dementia. Yes it was me... my reflection in a dirty mirror. A distorted view of something I never wanted you to see, but desperately wanted you to

know. Soft aged cloth marked my trace in invisable breathes. I watch the im-portance of this existence be pulled into the clouds of distraction. I went willingly into silent phases of broken confidence. Your words would travel through me to destinations I could

never grant access. Your subtle breath took me farther then I would ever know. No return, No Chance. I fold at the edg-

es and show my hand through empty bluffs. The rags of our sentences we left

on dirty floors. Stains of truth, blood soaked heavens, Seas of red lingers in my pathetic nights. Losses turn green

with no prodding.

YOU FELT M

Wet windshield, slipping fast I drive aloneThought I was coming to a conclusion this last rideLone roads in a curtailed foreverAgain swirling thoughts frame your importanceIn this cascading fate of mineAmbient vibrations fill voids left incompleteThese things appear as the only realitySpheres of opportunity orbit chances declinedNo voices ring tonight, only the truth of sounds Eternal vibrations, no thought disturbsWords have run past there primeCups empty in the corners of my roomI do not worry this evening, endings come soft and wetEthereal rumbles tell me we all will reduceOne chance this time, before dervish beginningsWe smell this life but once, before the stars pull us back homeEternal voids our pious beginningsI kneel before your dream, my ascension slips byOminous effect in the toll of my life I will give you everything this timeOpen channels flow from the crimson flesh that feedsLast flowing moments on highways gone by

WET WINDSHIELDS, SLIPPING FAST AS I DRIVE ALONE

WET WINDSHIELDS, SLIPPING FAST AS I DRIVE ALONE

We smell this life but once, before the stars pull us back home

E

Chip Marks is someone I’ve never met, but the first time I saw his work, I felt as if I had known him forever.

F O R E V E RHe has a hotline straight to the collective subconscious, and that’s what makes his artwork and writing so universally appealing He touches uS in the placewhere we all are one.

This special talent makes him the most r e a l

w h e r w e a l l a r e o n e

E

Chip Marks is someone I’ve never met, but the first time I saw his work, I felt as if I had known him forever. VWHISPERING VOICE

F O R E V E RP L A C E Sstitched

p e r s o n I have ever known.

N I G H T M A R E S D R E A M SWhile the rest of us are hardly aware of our ingrained protective devices that slam air tight pressure lids tightly shut on any thought or emotion that dares to surface from the boiling cesspool of primal fears, pains and desires, he dives right in without reservation, and becomes an open channel for the whispering voice of the Universe. His artworks are wonders stitched to-gether of dreams you once had - or nightmares. And suddenly you become acutely aware that they are real. And he is real. And I don’t need to shake his hand to believe it.

He has a hotline straight to the collective subconscious, and that’s what makes his artwork and writing so universally appealing He touches uS in the placewhere we all are one.

This special talent makes him the most r e a l

w h e r w e a l l a r e o n e

Movements can not be felt anymore. Numbness is all that I smell. Cold skel-etons left for feeders from my momen-

tous failures. Never to nourish there hunger, beyond this frail human un-derstanding. Death fits humans. Lus-cious smells, warm funeral pyres. Let

me tell you of my plan. Let me give you all that is left. Show me your hands so I may know that you are real. Tender

fingers reach inside. Massive hands tear delicate flesh. You never knew what

would come. Lost in fantasy. Never rise again. Movements coming slowly now.

Crippling sensations. Consequences you craved. I can feel your gentle

screams from your insides out.

MOVEMENT

days stretch to milesi keep moving... no questionsdid i tell youyou are my reasonthe reason

CHANCES ARE

Penchant for evil, drastic measures drawn on thin lines. Seeing slow movements inside, I know love is all there is. Prayer on last chance knees, saints wash there hands. The sacred ones look away, disdain for the useless.

Nevertheless, we walk on, forest left for cold dreamers. Stalking the hell we long for, places in our hearts crucifixion. This is the final dream, warm veins flow. Pools of me look up to see your hunger. Manic seconds before our consuming greed.

This is how we love, no spaces between lines of fantasy. You enter this last room, white pasts, red stained beginnings.

Knelling to the inevitable sound of your silenced breath. Your eyes look past my pale lies, resting places, green goodbyes.

Fields of our losses, stains of our beautiful damnation. Glorious killing floors we inhabit, darker moons set before us. I stand this last time, over you in profuse flowing seas. Sinking below me, faces slip away in this crimson stain. Sacrificial bloodletting in our decimation sacrament. White planets above, tears fall on this dark world. Below this world of mundane inhabitations, grey sentences left to crowds. We pander to your empty worlds, bodies washed of dream. Prey you are, pray we will that you will pass this dark night. Cloud crossed moons hide these places our hearts do spill. Spinning insane, gentle feeding this part we play. Actors in this endless phantasm, I follow you to never in every breath I take.

Around the corner from darker moons is where we decayed in our perfect moments. We sat at opposite ends of green mornings. No more eyes to see. Quiet passing into endless night. Don’t wake me from this perfect nightmare. An absurd comedy of divine distraction. I know you don’t exist. I know I made you up. I see your pictures from the clay I smoothed. You were all I wanted though you never were. And neither was I. Today alone I see the past in the clouds before me. Cotton candy lies in a sugar soup of fear.

C O R N E R

A RO U N DT H E

Pathetic moments spent drowning in what I could never remember. Your kneeling promises, withering in my

prisons. Bars hold your passing breaths as your heart beats, to its inevitable

end. They break into shards of your si-lent screams. The chains on your floors.

Dirty cement, no traces of your tears. Blood spots mingle with deliriums sali-va. Cold filthy iron of dreams you crave. Hours of spinning. Hands inside tearing forth. Cries fall to lonely caverns. This is where we live. This is where we die. We

crawl through forests, hallowed dreams. I drink your passion straight from the

source. I feed you softly from veins we’ve found.

PATHETIC M

Convince me in these last seconds Let me fall to colder dreams of us These sounds never end, They toll for sanity lost Rings of boundless desolation Breezes from never in lasting blue I found myself on floors deathly goodbye Alone never seen in my dreams of you Casting doubts in chances only lent once It’s still my life you will never see In these last clouds of your love Poring over ashes of you and I Lasting impressions in clay red relics Hair and skin left to dusts blue breath Soaring dreams fall like crumbling towers Final seconds of our destiny gone by I found myself again, in love with you Endless hills of emptiness I stand in whispers not real Raining dreams in falls waning moment Half wounded from shattering realities Blood drained sentences, encounters scream Blinding minutes of my fantasies alone in rooms not mine Fists shatter in frustration siege Alone on freezing edges of my last inception Its mine alone, it never ends Dying cells will never leave this cold eternity I kneel again over now lost pyres Dirt clenched tightly, I will never release you I carry this dust to my last breath alone Tears fall to these endless desires It’s my life, don’t you forget it

If I could release you to nevermore, would I let it go? Beyond my cries for help hidden beneath a sadistic smile, a lost smile. Bravado of the dead in

a hell beyond this eternal coil. These jokes are my prison. Released from my breath to tumble beyond your

thoughts. You said you sat beneath trees of my worlds. My face hidden in

prisons of memory lost. I fade from view. Blacks and grey lost in sweet

sensibility. Moments of now tainted with amnesia always lost to me. When

I open up my mouth to speak. Liv-ing entities leave me. They take the last remnants of your fantasy of me.

Across seas teasing fast. Your sentient moment of confusion lost me like a

child in a park.

IF I COULD

I beg to lose Once again I smell the value Broken off in flesh borne dreams Never would I see these green blue senses in your vision Gone forever in this cry for another world The one I have knelt before many stars ago Moons gather in solemn mourning Prayer falls to deaf masters in this nightmare of blood and tear I touched your arm in your last passing

You looked for me, but dust settles fast in this spin of chance I moved through eternal train cars, conductors lost forever Tickets punched in this play full of endings I lose moments in every breath Two steps forward, one step left Last seat on the right, my doors locked for life Waiting for morsels of a dream ill never taste Every moment of everyday lost to this chalice of my blood You drank till eyes filled, crimson tears of goodbye

Faces smear to color congealed in time Your eyes were all I had left to remember Heavy nights in moist clamor I heard your calls, seas beyond this conscience Signs left in calligraphic bloodletting Oceans of emptiness wait for us on shores soft touch Places to start leave us, no more chance Your door the color of your tears Our movements make no progress across distances alone Toys left abandon on my floors I watch from dark corners of indignation Berths left for me alone, I wait in tepid rains Soft fogs, ships with no shore My overcoat drags sands of sadness Lighthouses left to die, heart fires burn to tragic end One gull dream on autumn’s last breath Dark waters I always feared pull you down Your eyes look past me in dark blue neglect

They mean very little anymore... time passes. I smell your scent in my dreams by day, your words

echo my losses once again. Tears will not come by night but only in useless meaningless moments of someone else pain. Night falls up on me... up to you? It always has been. Suns rise in seven planets. Blues of pasts never seen quench thirsty lovers. We ask them ques-tions but they never see us. Di-

mension we live. In between where questions float. When I turned you

were gone. It was just me all the time. Watching from my dark plan-

et. Lovers play and I turn away.

THEY MEAN

In darker quieter moments she would tell me these dreams.Fearful in these slipping seconds, strangle holds of loves lost breath

I knew the words before she spoke because I was the oneThe sender of dangerous edges that we both ventured to without trepidation

Now my face is not recognized, maybe it is that it is no longer meI am not the one that breathed life into that being that owned our souls

At least I am not the same man I was thenAnd she does not remember herself as we are both shadows now

Stories beyond who we are todayThe words pull at me, begging reunification

Its property out of reach, gone to paths of the mundane.Fading flesh destined to report in pathetic sentences what can not be told.

Skin goes grey from descriptions that fall beside roads of crucifixions dreamI turn from her words wishing only to knell before her in days goneTo look up to eyes on fire, passions property gone from this world.Simple creatures, broken of there lustful consumptive inhalations.

Bad habits for school children destined for much duller lives.Service to blind goals of decay.

I walk alone away from her last breathes. I know her moments are short and that I must recommit to my master.

Passion beyond words takes hold of its charge.But only through these open wounds

The ones I tear through myselfThese hallways drip with my love lost, quenched by eternal loses

Control leaves again as I rejoin the swirling passagesPale skin fills in silent screams, candlelit chambers in your deepest fantasy

Something to die for was all I want-ed. Just to give the final word at the

switch. An execution of purpose closer to the thoughts of the killer in my past. He would never allow

this. A more then perfect stain that only exists inside here. I would touch

a thousand dreams if I could just smell your passing. Come close one more time. A brush with my chance. Dreams filled for once. Lost in a high

waters that never recede, gentle rains that never come. Head down. Long halls of darker green. Over my shoulder an eye. Did you turn? Just for a classic ending, a movie never

seen.

SOMETHING

Memory like my breath falls to cold clouds in this darker night I could go forever this moment, lasting beyond what I know with you

Take me along, take my thoughts, take my dreams, take it all Keep it in safe places, places where I will never see, never remember

Flying kites of emptiness, fill my eyes, lost thoughts in soft pastel Rains sweep from far off valleys, never to be felt in this parched emotion

This is the end, end of times known all too well I will forget these sounds I loved, comforts only vibration

I exist in these seven seconds before midnight again Only in your eyes, only you see me these last breathes

The only question left under clouds of my eternal doubt Did you know, did you care, did you want

Did you take the gift I laid before you This path, winding walkways of leaf strewn sighs

I move in cold winds once more, collars pulled high, black scarves lost This is my world, this is what I choose, this is peace with no love

Silence in dark changes, shudders thrown open for one, invitations to the moon If you go I will stay in this garden, eternal ruins, home knows me at the stones of fountains past

Your voice lights these candles of living mind, quilts of love, feathers comfort in everlasting dream

R A G E I N M Y H E A D

do I know you? we go light the fires

we burn off the excess the superficial who are all of you people

do I know you

f l a m e s t h e f i e l d s b u r nANDA N DS U N S E T

why do you say what you saywhy do you ask what you ask

why do you bother

they go at sunset to light the fires. i stand near the edge of

my limit and watch in silence. all through the night they tend the

fires that rage in my head

CONTRA ST against the they burn you to a cinder because you

have no business here what right did you in the first place i am the likeness cut from your dark

and i will take what i want and i guarantee you i will destroy it

i will burn you at the stake of your own making

You will wish you had left when you had the chance| but now though you think you walk your path of

pathetic and mediocre righteousness your knees create pools of blood you forgot exsisted

if i were you, i would fear the crucible

there silhouettes

FLAMES AND

R A G E I N M Y H E A DS U N S E TFLAMES AND

In my ending, final moments of pure love. I took you to the last place I knew. The only thing that was

left. The only thing I knew in blind swirls of passion we could have only

dreamt of. I laid you down in the spring grasses, those smells you

painted in my soul. Evenings of aro-matic desires. I felt you run, those evening I prayed, knelling before you, blood of the moon. But this

day, final moments, sliding through my fingers. I touch the cool dirt you

could never feel. Only my hands could know this last sensation. Fin-

gertips touch cold skin. Passions teeth tear pale flesh. Dreams gone

but fulfilled. Taste of steel as I closed your eyes.

IN MY END

Imagining you there... in my clouds of fantasy. I drove you to my end in or-

ange burning dreams. My roads never did lead to you as I thought, only to the beginning of my new pastime. Retrospective fantasies broken off

from the repulsive collectives. I never did do community. I die in its joyous lies. Bend the blue arteries of my pa-

thetic channel. I flow in seven seconds. I die in your last three. We waited with clocks stopped. Never did I think eter-nity would release you to a moment in my dream, but there you are. Replen-ished by obsessive existences. Across

blue seas of nevermore.

IMAGINING

soft linen storiesLike an old movie

Coasting through colors of endless absenceYou live in me through blues and autumn burnt sentimentsWhen I see it come you are not far behindEverything that floats in pools face downReside in me without youLaying in d a r k r o o m s, soft linen storiesPicking memories like spring flowers lost to summer sunsYou hold them as they vaporize in my fading moments of consciousnessFace to face in grasses wet and golden.

down

d a r k r o o m sf r a m e s t u r n e d t o b r o w n

soft linen stories

f r a m e s t u r n e d t o b r o w n

o c e a n s o f l o n e l i n e s s

I dare not touch your face.My dreams pulled from me to many times

Like an old movie the frames turn to brownFlicker my dream jitter in coming blackness

Tapes burn in fields of deleted dreamsCensored fantasies sent to furnaces of the lost

You fall away from me once again across oceans of lonelinessOn quilts of a dead mans life I sit

Out of a sky of alien passings. You came softly whispering a language I would never know. My fingers tin-

gled at your sight lost sensations in extremities long since dormant. The

blood and skin under your nails, parts of me you will never give

back. Touching my eyes you laid me to rest. No more dreams in dried fields of never. The dirt pulls me in, what is left of a soul sold long ago. Skyward looks yield empty promis-es, band-aids on forever. I push the doors on chances long since aban-don. Again your photographs stares

back with eyes burned out. Never sinks in a grave of neglect.

OUT OF A SKY

Age takes me again through countless chapters without youHidden stories you will never read

Sentences written in the dirt of this swirling nightmareDust storms of forever release you to a freedom without me

Choking breath of skies gone grey that Ill never tasteYou look behind for me, crawling through my dark fantasy

Wretched moments fill me with solutions beyond my timeClamoring effects in vacuous dream world I know only through this last breath

Broken moments destroyed by committees of the lostThese endless sidewalks I move down lost in winters blue hold

This village emptied by my hand, quiets red splattered demandsThe essence stains my hands beyond the skin, cancerous black tastes

On scarred knees I crawl to this final eclipse of the seven sunsBlue moons fill my eyes in these final thoughts of you

Silence by you is my destruction, you move past me againI am the ghost of this dreary manner, never seen by day

I watch from the darkness to melodic drones of strings on swirling rueEndless regrets in the ruins of my planet

Kneeling again to your statue, pools of your reflection This place does not end, contrary hell in my last heavenly fantasy

No visit from powers beyond, no sacrifice left for smaller beingsI give these treasures I fondle in hopes I will smell your passings once more

This place is mine; no death haunts this never-ending dreamNo darkness, no lights, just grays and gold of my decaying dream

H I D D E N S T O R I E S

T H E S E D A N C E S

These dances performed once again, Soft sounds on wooden skin numb from abuse. In last days of these precious moments, Lives en mass, snuff in these seven seconds. Angels of death watch from pagan trees, Green with everlasting vengeance. We asked forgiveness from entities that no longer listen. The movements we perform before the finality of our existence. Candles blown past there last breath. Dying daily in this dance for your absolute love, Knelt on stained red cloth. I pray to seven once more, All my gifts gathered for disposal. Guidance gone, I float in this sea, rudders left to the mundane. Take me from this total hypnotic illusion, Lambs drink freely in hopes of silent agreements. Contracts with eternity bled of life in blindfolded justice. I have no answers for them today, only paths to point to, deadly slaughter. I sit at ancient crossroads once again, Facing your tears, Cheeks silken love. No words come to us, Only silent gasps, Screams in a vacuum of Never-ending despair. Blood filled eyes The only tears left Spill on grounds of the sacred. How we long for dirt and iron, Tastes burnt memories. This is where we wait.

T H E S E D A N C E S

Our last chance left on bloodied knees. We walk away through pools

of salted passing. Never touch, never feel, never kiss, never slap, never fall,

never know. Justify existence in a vacuum of our withering love. Yes... I want it like that. Forever martyred in the lasting smells of our burnt of-ferings. Pushed to your pavement.

Lacerated passions. Simple sentences past meaning. Speak gently your

pastel wealth as I go broke in mag-netic darkness. Staring into black

and white futures. Your photo fades in ultraviolet tears.

OUR LAST C

Days are floating through in the wondering. Broken stems on a brass clock wrench, you don’t remember do you? That is too bad, I was there and I felt everything. Your loss was the sting in my shoes. I surely won’t walk that way again. Ahh wasn’t I something to remember, not this life. So sorry, you were barely a blip on the screen. I look across the prairie today. I see them, they are there and they called you. But... too bad, you did not respond. Never will one know the void that exists. The need to fill the whole (hole). Weakness overtakes you. You feel the strength or them slam you against the wall. Your knees will never bleed this way again. Your throat will never moisten again, just crack to the urban waste of your own decadence. Sorry no cake for you today The frosting you get is stale from repetitious copies that bore me to death. Listen to them chirp, listen to there pander. You know it’s a lie but you feed at your own trough. Enjoy it if you can. I am out of time.

Love swims darker watersSeas of sadnessNo hopes to float away onI never wanted to get wet These things pull from underneathBreaths in blue panicImpossible momentsWords could never be saidI fade to not in your puddles of desireIt was never me between your tearsShameful passings as you walk awayWill you ever come back to neverCan I ever tell you the strands of my drowningYou never knew

S E A S O F S A D N E S S

Then when I asked the crucial question, I didn’t know you

anymore. I tried to be my best... but I just became less, pain runs deep but today is a good day, even when I feel the loss, when you move away I die, and the

river seems to go on forever. The old me wants to hurt you, wants

you to feel the pain, an act of divine chaos. I know you think of me as you run... another bad

ending in a movie devoid of film.

THEN I ASKED

Morning light for the last remnants of your attention. I

said those things from my pain, sealing a fate of never seeing your breath again. I could have walked

for the mile of my life by you. Some things will never be filled with blood. Dead and bloated, lifeless and pathetic. Dreams. I

wanted to hurt you for not feeling the things I felt. It did not matter. None of it matters. We all walk in the dark and smell the burning

flesh of our losses. My hands explode on the ground as I pound

them to bloody stumps.

MORNING

6 GROWING UP IN THE 60’s0

Growing up in the ‘60’s when everything including TV was black and white.It all seemed so simple... cut and dry. Then came JFK, Vietnam, Woodstock, and the peace love flower generation was in full bloom.It was around this time I first met Chip. We were all full of mischievous energy, looking with wonderment at a world full ofendless possibilities. As the world changed, we grew. We grew to understand things in a whole new way.Chip always amazed me with his relentless pursuit of knowledge, always experimenting testing, pushing the envelope, soaking in every bit of everything around him, excitedly sharing his new discoveries. We pushed the bounds of the universe in an

effort to make sense of it all, uncovering mysteries and stumbling on to painful truths. After thirty some odd years little has changed. Older and much wiser, Chip continually amazes with his insatiable thirst for new avenues of expression. His raw talent and deft skills combine to make the most prolific creative force I have ever seen.All of this talent, skill, experience and emotion is displayed with razor sharp clarity in his work. I still shake my head in amazement every time I see a new piece.Thank you for the inspiration, the knowledge and skills you have passed along, the incredible body of work of art that you have shared, but mostly for being my friend.

I find myself again in mirror cracked Reasons left for dusted shelves not in this house Cards thrown to bluffs left cold Following scents of you I fall Smells I only remember in these colder dreams Pictures fading into eleven stains of us I ask myself in darker sessions Do I see this clear vision of my total decimation? Uncontrolled falling on limbs gone weak Desperate looks to empty ranges I convince myself once again I am not here alone Doors close in slow motion to my darkest room Corners of my own in days passing me by Losing flight in this bloodletting of forever Bridges sigh over dark waters fear I saw your face in sinking moments lost I hold my hand up to dimming light Empty palm, visions dance in translucent fantasy What happened before these lost days How did I end up kneeling at this fountain of dead dreams Ancient ruins of a happier time Illusion for a fool in apocalyptic love Worlds crumble to the ends I will never see Prayer falls on ears of waning gods Powerless entities in vacuous swirls Answers never come in this chance at dark eternity Another sleepless night, frozen moments in death throes goodbye Broken records play moments of lost agony Blinding breathes in this cosmic joke Laying gifts at the foot of an unknown statue Bleeding moments in my last confusion

Exhaling the only thing I have left. Breathing the sounds, movements in chaos. Traveling through the empty

frames of these shadows. Cracked and aged, days stitched together with

pieces of you. Bone and wax in morbid splendor, odors of age and decay. This is my world, alone in pasts we shared. I smell you move miles off and remember you below me in delirious rages. It was all my dream, man on a wire. Balance

lost in strange ambience. The dream that never existed and never will be. There

was the last moment of your forgiveness and goodbye. A turning away. Cold

winds expose blistered tenderness. Dark water, depths bind our hearts. Clouds refuse sunlight, nourish our demise.

Love bound to darkness, our pending annihilation. Pain we long for, living for

moments of sacrifice, drowning black skies. We come to this in everlasting passings. The moment of unrealistic

grasping for one more caliginous instant in a dream that never existed.

EXHALING

Coldness blows sideways in the moments of my losses.|| Snow from dreams you and I shared. On colorless coasts of icy unknown seas. I watched you walk again from above. Lost to forests without me. I dream of you coming back to me. My days in these rooms, darkness crawls. Spiders of my descent, losses time seven. I go back to these cold beaches no souls but mine. The rain of your tears control me once more, divided by two. I care not to see tomorrow, the grass it must die. We will never touch with fingertips to clouds blue sighs. Only the winds of your final deliveries reach my hearts bleeding oceans. Ships sink as these faces goes blue, fingers releasing in final goodbye. I sink blue depths in titanic ending to stories never told. I will go now before the sand reaches the top of my boots. My prayers are lost in there gods last desperate attempts. Looking towards eastern pasts I wonder if you think of me as I write. If you smell the decay of my sentences, amber moments thrown to blood spattered walls. On shores of lost arcades, I see you standing. Tourists die in winters monstrous grip, dark days you love beyond words. I board ships in nameless ports, departures unknown.

I do not walk to close to people for there reality may stain. The pull my senses to endings of mundane mornings. Seeing out my windows gets more difficult by the day. Running fingers down dusted

panes only reminds me never to look out the glass I’ve cleared. Old house windows

closed off for time. Doors locked and stones left unturned. I haunt this house

and I walk its halls. Photos in frames never seen. Lighted pathways flames

gone cold. These windows painted shut, once white with our breath. The cold frost you loved, fallen leaves as you

scream our insanity. The glass filmed over from isolation I turn again. These views distorted with loss. No one lives

here anymore but me. I keep it dark I can see quite well the colors of blue, all my shades. One room I keep with a window to spring. The smell of spring and sweet green are only allowed there. A room I

don’t own but visit for a fee.

I DO NOT WALK

I have sat in barren suburban waiting rooms, wondering in prison green

sedation. Seems like a life of waiting to know lonely cold truths. Walking

through barren hallways in dark slanderous fantasies, enchanted indigo attacks. Dreaming again only moments ago. A cold wind violated my fantasies

again, and bolted awake like a dead toy with last a gasp of attention. I go

to my basement again and sit in a dark corner to experience the fragments of

lost times. Left over dreams abandon to shelves dusted over. You take me down

in moments you will never confess. Touching doll like memories between

hateful chants. Emotions sweep remnants of pathetic projects we never finished.

Gardens never weeded, wither beneath the words I never meant. Forgiveness beyond

the tasks of today. My words you said were forever. You said you forget but you never forgive. My sorrow today melting to crashing surf on lost castle. We died a day

worth living.

I HAVE SAT I

Do you remember the seven things we said? Promises on merry-go-rounds of dead dreamers Carnivals in our collective hallucination Abandon booths lonely vendors decay Cold winds down midways lost This steel we rode in the days we prayed No more light, bulbs burnt to inevitable descent We fell with them in autumnS disease Snow dusts my future in dark rooms censure I look out cracked windows for dreams never end This empty room I scream, lovers destroy Dumping grounds in eternity The lost with no way out Stroll there destiny in this circus of souls The live here, every one, two by two, minus one

Moments in passing don’t look much the same. Again I wondered if you had seen me out of the corner of your eye. Thoughts slide by as I ride lost attentions to there sad end. Sitting, I wonder if you recall a moment in our dementia. Insane affections bound for icy ends in forests of lost words. I come for you daily only to find remnants of your passing. Imaginary pools wait, where my reflection never visits. Your tracks in the sand tell me you were here. Leaves begin to fall another year. Ends we both lived for. This cool stillness pulls me towards paranoid fantasies. Out of the corners of my eye I think you watch. Driving another lost night with no future behind. I smell your heart just past the next curve.

Blessed are the broken ones, no thoughts tonight. I touch myself again, damage found in cold red losses. Wounds hidden deep under skin scarred so blue. I follow paths in forests lasting moments. I am lost again in endless days of dark green madness. Bones gone thin through bars caged dream. Feed him more, evil ones prey. On knees that bleed seven seconds before midnight. Never will suns swirl this orbiting menagerie. Planetary dreamlands missed at stations gone by. My plans so meticulous, followed blind eye bled. Falling to second sentences in conversations alone. I ramble on in pastures as if you were still by my side Ill never feel your breeze touching skin gone cold. I lay down here eternity, blue lips goodnight. Star in this night burnout in novas last breath I thought I knew this path in confidential punctuation. In momentary breathes from a darker night I drift off to not.

No hunger for sustenance still, since when has there ever been hunger for food. I feed in dreams, the tables go on forever, fresh with life, mists of

sweetness. The body knows no hunger for food, to eat is a task I do not relish

in isolation. Food is to be gently shared with her, only her eyes feed the hunger that exists. I glide through translucent

milling shoppers. They don’t exist and neither do I. Only she is there in peach clouds that I have made. The sacks lay on the floor to melt as I go

to my window to receive her attention across oceans of doubt. She wakes

this morning to my gentle someone here to see you, my stars call me in to dream again, her day begins as three, morning so free, afternoon darkness is coming, evening is numb from ashes of love. Only dream can we touch today.

I pick flowers alone for her under a starless sky. I have no doubts who she

is and where she came from.

NO HUNGER

A final dreamA dream in glassBlue crystal falling from heights of our passionThoughts of our lifeEmpty glasses of happinessI can not touch anymoreThere is no feeling in these fingers gone coldAll fears are gone in these last seven secondsLast kiss of never in these green moments I slip toI will not wake this morning out of my graspThey do not come around anymoreCommittees of my demisePlanning this desolate goodbyeFilled with crystal moments of farewellI do not see though these eyes of sadnessAlone in clouded rooms of passionCool waters wash down these last choking memoriesSun beyond these clouds of my last endless longingThis sleep takes me back to youThrough morning dreams in glass

Contagious moments of endless passings, born of fantasy smashed Like these wounds that never heal, I rip them again with every breath Every door lost in endless dreams of a day that will last forever Did you forget? It never ends, this loop if dream Rising from ruins in gardens crumbling love Only to fall again in this cruel joke far from a world I once knew I wait for word of a cure in a terminal disease my life gone awry These worlds only swirl in one direction, depths I know too well The back of my hands speak to me in languages only I can understand Moist airs I breathe on streets of putrid fog, green with my death These days I wonder if there will ever not be a turning away No allowances for something true to unfold, these cards hold no trump I still move through this quiet world, silences of my own making I say goodbye to her again, shadows of the past haunt these living rooms inside My name fades from her lips in these days blown forward Cold faces look down in mourning, stones gone cold I wait in dry riverbeds drowning, will you come, will you sit Will you say goodbye?

I do not hear the whispers anymore. The switch was never to be touched. But you couldn’t help your self. And when every reality rushed in. All innocence was gone. I remember I used to

compose your dreams. Now I slip to waste heaps of emotive mech. Let there be one minute

to last eternity. Even if it is a lie. I dream though I do not exist.

Its better then nothing, which is what I am. Pieces fall and so do I. You never knew. You thought

it was just me.

I DO NOT HE

These children slipping through time We never grow up to see these moments Dry and old, dead from boredoms slide Children living the lie of life They do not die nor ever is there age The gods do not look down on them to condemn Tables they wait on, devouring creatures to fed this day The dead lay filled, tepid fluid going cold Breath is all but gone as visions of children, spring worlds escape Mistakes can not be changed, only healings will save Not today as my life drains to this bitter end We played one last time as children on green knolls Seasons moment in eternity This moment I loved you beyond my understanding I gave you my blood in abandoned time No more moments tick by in this ending daze Only fading dream of a chance gone by Without you I lay here, last breathing scandal Crimes I am guilty of, words never disappear Forever they linger, she forgets but she never forgives

I will always play this tape of my chance I live here in dark rooms watching movies of what could have been I fall to the days last moments, tiny prayers, chants of lost children

Mistaken identity in passing once again this dream The gods look down in anger on this fading scion Child of time slipping into the last sleep Tumbling inward to eternal dwelling, ruins of home lost

Like a mother searching for child abandon, I never leave these rooms

Final resting place, for one that never sleeps Bones turn to dust, fireflies spring to glowing nights shine

Spinning galaxies she speaks I look up from dark pools to her constellation’s

Sparkling goodbyes

A history or moments Of this last moment A history of the last breathThe one you breathe with me The one I sigh, dreams I sigh throughWhen I see you alone Everything you are Completion in a breathIn this last soft time, a time of this never ending kiss These walls in my dreams pale cast in cloudy morningThe walls of your insides, crème goodbyes Two fingers from insideYour breath brings pastel skin rising A tear slips between your breast’s last dreamy requestA history of this second of my heart beat missed Of cheeks flushed in your shy moment shutterCould I live beyond this moment ever again Doubt exists in this blue sentient slumberNever do I wish to see the sun tearing forth my last dying moment of mourningNothing could fill the cavern of this history of moments

Do not listen to my words anymore. My sentences fade to a blur of living vibrations. They

mean nothing unless they are but mantras. Soothing communions.

Syllables of aural sensuality. Existing only as way to touch. Beyond intellect or meaning.

Healing sounds of love. Like your laughter speaks. A language only

I understand. Let me tell you stories. Tales of brave ignorance.

Recollections of light. Complicated dissertations. Reduced to the

simplicity of a tone. Eyes wide open from a frontal attack of

simplicity.

DO NOT LIST

Forty million seconds and I no longer exist. Breathe gone long ago, walking man on shaky floors. I’m sorry you saw this scene from paintings gone blue. Flesh in concert, lurk in corners of forever. My breath no longer lingers in the heart of loves last seconds. I don’t see today, eyes stitched shut in meticulous design.

I could never say no to you, transactions in ownerships end. I gave all in complete agreements, papers signed in dark meetings. I gave you all that existed and laid in boxes made for me.

Smells of grass and dirt, clouds blow by spring morning’s goodbye. Shovels lighten burdens of the disconnected existences.

They care not today, the grey skin they cover in hazy aftermaths . My eyes closed see through eyelids last hint. Your last breathe takes me in to places you covet. Rooms with no doors, the places I long to be inside you. No release on legs of broken chairs.

You feed my moments with morsels of precious poison. I consume last meals in cells of the damned

Some days I wonder, when I say your name in the quiet of my room alone. Do you hear these vibrations across cold cruel seas of my sadness? I raise my hands, fingers stretch towards empty visions of your face. Lost again in angles of blue and red, nothing makes sense in this broken silence. My room falls to quiet again, candles go dark in these last seven seconds.

I slip back to warm memories of your belief in me, passings once more in the darkness.

I sit on rags of my memories, tattered with use beyond there original intent.

Soft cloth touches your cheek. silken losses in natural progression.

This is what we expect, last chances in the pools of demise.

We never knew life would come to these moments of dementias longing.

Could love swallow these last semblances of sanity? I would do anything,

touching the last written moment of your cries. I reach again after last readings;

palms speak lines of sadness we felt this day. Imaginary hands of your existence touch my face,

smells of warm water oils.

I disappear to a world. Where no words are ever spoken. If they cannot speak to me a new way then we don’t come from the same world. But we know them this

way. There words fade to oscillating iterations. Lost utterances spilling on

listless children. Meaningless vibrations and polluted meanings Choke off living atmospheres. We go alone

because we choose. Today cotton goes in softly. Only your kiss would keep me from closing my mouth forever. I don’t need to say anymore. I speak

only to sing a lullaby sans melody. My eyes close, the dark is all I need. I see you clearly now. Across expanses no

mortals consider. They step back to the prescribed boundaries. The other move toward on sale couches. Telezines break

there concentrations. They dull me to unconscious celebration. Scientific logic

for a mass suicides one cell at a time

I DISAPPEAR

Sleep, Wake, Always. Everything I do is filled with her.I could never escape. I would never want to. I have given everything I am to her. I am her fire and she is my protection. She wraps me in her essence. She opens my eyes and I give her mine.Her tears fall and I die.

She is there every moment. Her laughter dances and I am born.

One life she tells me, Live it. This is all we have.

Love … Feel… and I do. Swirls of the ultimate configuration

together eternally. Until then I give her title totally,

all of who I am and who I ever will be.Life will never be the same.

I give it all to you As you have given to me.

I will never walk away andIt will never end.

Don’t forget the voice.

Stood at the bus stop today. In town that has no bus. Waiting to go, destination a dream. Too late

my friend you missed the bus. 20 years too early, a lifetime too

late. Saddled with a life of coping and getting through. 20 years of darkness and shame. Rooms of blood and good-byes. Now it is mine, master of my own. But too late. I fought a lifetime for this

moment. Freedom from bondage few will know. How far this road, yet I’m

here, miracle of miracles. Reasons beyond me, known only to one. And

now I stand at this stop lost to the past. I can’t change what I was, it’s done and gone. I see you drive by in my last dream. I became something

you didn’t expect... Real

STOOD AT TH

Sent through the grinder with no thought of peace.Will you ever see the face? Do you know what I’m thinking in seven other realities?Can you smell the scent of lost chances? Never the day goes by that it would not sting my eyes. The lullaby of lost soldiers. The burning clouds set high in the distance. You saw my face in the blackness. Wondering if I would ever live to tell. I will hide for now and wait to tell the secrets. I know where you live. Your street smelled of orchid. The scent comes to me on cold mornings of loneliness. Empty bottles, juices run down my sides. Someday I will reclaim what I lost. I take no hostages today. No ransom for your soul will be paid. My chances are gone. I squeezed them on bloody knees. On tainted thorns my walk is numb. We won’t see day. When the world swirls toward destiny. Say goodnight and remember.

Today I am only a movement and a dream. Only a dream that you truly exist. The dream of a child wishing for a summer friend. Will you stay through the fall? Winter is the eternity of demise, the

shedding of this shell so important in a world I never belonged. I wave from the

trees to the only soul that ever saw. A flock of distractions like birds before the storm. My little cottage lonely and dark, candles

left to die without a trace of existence. Cold dust in a fireplace forgotten. I light

twigs in the remnants of yesterday. Blazing signal fires across valleys of

doubt. It is me. I am here. I am real. All that I am is true. All that I dream is real.

Everything you are to me is true.

TODAY I AM O

Methodology of disaster. Conformed moments in glass across distances we imagine touch I never planned minutes beyond my grasp

Eyes shut I pull you down Cold steel chains, splintered killing floors You could never rise above the last link Your pathetic whimpers beg my sanguine attentions Vacuous eyes gaze up in two dimensional swirls

You flow never ending Laying you down eyes vacant Over quiet days you return

T o d a y I r e c o g n i z e y o u T o m o r r o w y o u w a l k a w a y

across distances we imagine touch I never planned minutes beyond my graspA ro m a f i l l s fa n ta s i e s w e c o u l d o n ly l o n g f o r T h e y s a t u r a t e y o u r B L U E D E M I S E

D A R K N E S S A N D B L O O D , W A L L S M E A R E D L I N ED a r k n e s s a n d b l o o d , w a l l s m e a r e d l i n e

C o l d s w e at d o w n i n n e r t h i g h s R e l e a s e wa s n o t a n o p t i o n I n r e s i g n at i o n wa s y o u r d e c l i n e P r i s o n s w e c r e at e d f o r t h e pa s s i o n o f d e m i s e S i l k t o u c h e s s k i n wa s h e d c l e a nY o u l o o k t o m e w i t h n o t h o u g h t E m p t i n e s s fa l l s t o s k i n a n d b o n e P u s h e s t o p o i n t s o f s p l e n d i d r u i n L o n g i n g s b l u e f r o m i m p r i s o n m e n t Wa r m f l u i d i n s i d e f i l l s w r o n g p l a c e s


Methodology of disaster. Conformed moments in glass across distances we imagine touch I never planned minutes beyond my grasp

Eyes shut I pull you down Cold steel chains, splintered killing floors You could never rise above the last link Your pathetic whimpers beg my sanguine attentions Vacuous eyes gaze up in two dimensional swirls


T o d a y I r e c o g n i z e y o u T o m o r r o w y o u w a l k a w a y

across distances we imagine touch I never planned minutes beyond my grasp

r o o mA ro m a f i l l s fa n ta s i e s w e c o u l d o n ly l o n g f o r T h e y s a t u r a t e y o u r B L U E D E M I S EOND A R K N E S S A N D B L O O D , W A L L S M E A R E D L I N E

D a r k n e s s a n d b l o o d , w a l l s m e a r e d l i n eEyes shut I pull you down Cold steel chains, splintered killing floorsYou could never rise above the last linkYour pathetic whimpers beg my sanguine attentionsVacuous eyes gaze up in two dimensional swirls

C o l d s w e at d o w n i n n e r t h i g h s R e l e a s e wa s n o t a n o p t i o n I n r e s i g n at i o n wa s y o u r d e c l i n e P r i s o n s w e c r e at e d f o r t h e pa s s i o n o f d e m i s e S i l k t o u c h e s s k i n wa s h e d c l e a nY o u l o o k t o m e w i t h n o t h o u g h t E m p t i n e s s fa l l s t o s k i n a n d b o n e P u s h e s t o p o i n t s o f s p l e n d i d r u i n L o n g i n g s b l u e f r o m i m p r i s o n m e n t Wa r m f l u i d i n s i d e f i l l s w r o n g p l a c e s


My path is littered with pieces. Shards of time and hope. I am real,

though you can not touch me, I exist. I think, I feel, I lose. I see you

slip away from me, and feel the rush of your return. I can only see the foundation I stand on, Yours exists in your words you whisper in the night, ebb and tide. Lines go dead and I fall again. Prey to despair, lost dreams that are not

my own. I will tell you my truth. It means nothing, empty of touch. No windows in this room. I die

daily in this room with no light. The light of your eyes. Truth in your touch. The bondage of your taste. In this dark room with only you’re

distant sighs. I give you all I am, no reservations, blindly. Ghosts laugh

at me from behind closed doors.

MY PATH IS

Winds of soothing blue.This is where we live.

Always near. We know how to speak over great distances.Our practice has been impeccable.

Communion with our shadows, meditations of our ghostly sprits.We have walked many a paths together.

I look at you and we know. Without eyes we know. Without ears we know.

Without mouths to speak we know. All these senses are just frosting on a cake in the window.

Children from down the way know our dreams, they speak our language for now. Doomed to a life of banality they are desperate for the secret.

You draw power from loving airs that flow around the tender areas of your soul. I watch from my chair as you gently touch the wings of new dreams.

They form in lush gardens of your heart. I am privy to this place by divine permission.I rise to the edge of my chair in anticipation.

You look to me with eyes that agree. For a moment I contemplate the depth of the oceans. The distance of eternity and the expanse of our love.

At the moment of my final calculation the room goes dark.You come to me and we leave again for cities not of this world.

For we are not inhabitants of this world, simply navigators on waves of eternity.

Spaces open with the touch of a hand never felt. Soft green breezes vacate stale airs of

the lost. Doves of bondage fly three time zero. Hidden virtues freed from hiding places in the heart. Freedoms shame colored

red from a life of disdain. Don’t make me happy today. I

wouldn’t know what to do. Why does beauty only spring from

my blood spilt? I hold my hand in air, angles of blue. How did I

become so alone?

SPACES OPEN

Dreaming

ADreaming

A dream for the dreamed. A gift for the gifted. A sign behind the clouds that I had walked thru fields such as this. In a dream so long ago, And then it came like a soft caress up my spine. A whisper from a creature not yet of form. The message: you are, I am, we will And it will never end. In a fever I awoke to find my world was no more, Neither did I wish to return. and you know... Home I was. Thank you for the dream of who you are. My life a debt. I heard the words that you said, The message received. My life begins with the sounds you make. The joyous sounds of life. Of every move you make, of every dream you dream. The breeze of everything you are washes Against me as I sit in my window, The one you know so well. In my quiet moments you are alive In swirls of purple and peach... Taste and smell is still alive from my dream. I carry it with me as I do your love. I petition the powers for rain, Sweet rain that washes me with everything you are. I lay in dry fields far away just for today.

I pull you down I suck you in I feed you my deathly sickness Nurse my child Nurse my love Let me pacify your every desire Let me lull you to sweet stupor Let me seize the moment of your perfect end Let me feed you the juices of the ages The milk of your death and my birth

i pull you down i suck you in i feed you my deathly sickness nurse my child nurse my love let me pacify your every desire let me lull you to sweet stupor let me seize the moment of your perfect end let me feed you the juices of the ages the milk of your death and my birth

So different a face, lost among fingered stares. Where has the time

gone, lost in the room so deep. I looked to dusty cracked skylights, never a star. Locks removed years ago by wounded keepers. I stay blue temples in my room mirror

free. Cheek to wall, the cold made me real. Resignation tendered, paintbrush gardens. Televised

mistakes. Instant Replay, Reruns of your soul. Tapes run off reels in piles as I stare like a child. Lives flash before at ninety miles four

hours. Steel collapses to concrete, I don’t look back. Desert highway, blue rain freeway. Cars pass by me in single file. Just walking, thank

you… Just walking.

SO DIFFEREN

Explanations falter in moist breezes of examination. I do not know these places or these words though they still come in dark reminiscences. Precious gifts slip through my fingers and break on cold cement. All I could do is stare, my eyes lost in your memory. Everything that was important tumbled back to you. Debts forever, I could never pay. Fields I cross alone to destination you only imagine. It knows nothing else, pasts erased in the glow of your existence. Sounds in my world are swirls, your dreams lost in seven moments. Piano drones left for placid candor. I spoke alone to melodic fog. You will never come, these things I know.

From shadows I watchedSoftly shining beyond the trappings of her own lifeIn almost divine levitation that pushes my observation To floating highs beyond chemical temptationsGolden strands lightly shrouding the green of her visionsFantasies I alone am privyShe knows I watch from my hiding place Deep within my last dream, breathing seconds She pulls back curtains satin pale skinFeathers soft face slid through me like passionate blades

Crimson release pressures fadeSomehow nothing matters as I spill blue strand floors

These lines that made me exist now fade under her intentReaching warm red visions, eyes strain to see

Standing above dying devotion, she know I will giveThis is my dream, lifelong devotion to a passion beyond thought

To a love beyond dream, she holds me between spaces of life and lossThese moments of phantasm and feeding, black iron caress

We know who we are, we know in the service of totality we endeavorI give everything for her moment of pure insanity,

Ancient moments of purity, flights of time above these final gaspsI give all that I was, all that I have become and to her

She will be all that I could have been from the shadows I watch

Today they open just for you… one I never thought could be.

Explore the rooms, Discover the spaces.

I give them to you, my gift I trust that you will not disturb the dead, shelves of the past, bones of the lost Caverns of

tears, caldrons of pain, gone cold with time. Records kept

in shoddy disarray, Butterflies released to die on a late

autumn day

TODAY THEY

I was thinking of you in floating moments of awake. Eyes with no need to see, yawn from lines next to me. Living instances without the vibrations of your voice. Fantasy of closed eyes before morning you lay. Smells I’ve never known come to me in blue green swirls. Time stopping in minutes that do not exist.

I’ve never created you, only my moments with you in silence. In grassy pastures your eyes wander to sky forms beyond mine.

If you knew what I will never tell you. Action is the vehicle today, vacation taxi on our lost continent.

Pictures speak to me, voices laugh on wires frayed. Losses come in rushes of brown and blue.

Past endings from books closed tight. We walk in seven passing, down hallways darker night.

Ghostly voices pull from shadows green. Desperate sounds beg hurry up ends.

Fingers release from promises momentary lapse. Your face in cloudy photographs escape me in dementias engulf.

From my dark empty room I see you on blue stream edges. Solitary tear closes doors, isolations unending design.

Suns fall on planets not mine. Moons look different in places I know.

Requests left qued in empty mailboxes. This morning my hands old lines disappear.

D U P E

Around the corner from the moon is where we decayed in

our perfect moments. We sat at opposite ends of green morn-

ings. No more eyes to see. Quiet passing into endless

night. Don’t wake me from this perfect nightmare.

An absurd comedy of divine distraction. I know you don’t exist. I know I made you up. I see your pictures from the

clay I smoothed. You were all I wanted though you never were. And neither was I. Today alone I see the past in the clouds before me. Cotton candy lies in a sugar

soup of fear.

AROUND THE C

D U P E

These woundsDeath come completeInching closer to edges you dreamt aboutSwirling destinations we long for in savage green passionsSuns of blood, falling planets decideFrom serene shores, minds abruptI wonder about you once two manyCorpses on my banks, deposits lost in the rivers of your flowI drink from the seas, parched losses you force insideThese places I visit in my sadder moments speak the language I understandThey move with me in unison through these waning moments of sleepI remember your face but do not recall your bodyPulse through channel of these tepid red dreamsSearching for the vein of blue chances beyond my capabilitiesIn this slow motion gasp for one more memory

I knell again, prayers gone dryGods turn in tearful goodbyeChildren lay in fading cribs, dream never knownWaking this last time to nurseries dark coldLovers fall from the skyBut in my eyes they are but streaks in a now star lost night

A translucent sound. Dried flowers wrapped in wax paper. An antique

French quill. Pictures at an exhibition. I keep you awake with

stories. I wonder if the gates will ever open. I move through you like a soft wind. Dreams light with the sound, But fade in the silence alone. Is this my fate? To be dreamed and then you awaken. I wonder if I am real.

Am I real to myself. Did I dream who I am I say I am here, I am real, and I exist! But will I ever. Will I ever be tangible? A real smell, a real taste, anything more then a shadow. A

memory in a box on a shelf. Only to be taken out on lost holidays that

no one celebrates. I fade in my own dream. I walk through my own ruins alone. Mourn losses that never were.

A TRANSLUC

This sound is you... Everything you are vibrates though my last visionThis day of blue I realize the road was not so longEternity of disgrace in sea of sadness Homecoming to nevermore, last breathes in a conscious farewell I see these things through glass distortions, crystal passions I move down roads of your efficacious dreamsExhaustion in vibrations swirling pressureCan you feel me near,insensate object that I have becomeYou breathe this mortality into me Animated puppetry in these last seven seconds.I could never speak these words again in your sight, I fall again

This sound is youEverything you are vibrates though my last visionThis day of blue I realize the road was not so long Eternity of disgrace in sea of sadness Homecoming to nevermore, last breathes in a conscious farewell I see these things through glass distortions, crystal passions I move down roads of your efficacious dreams

Ringing sounds in my ears make me think of you once again.

The smell that was not you but surrounded you. If you saw my

hands move near you, like a magnet you pulled them to heal the damage that was not mine. Around corner I tried to break

you. Running from black portraits of lost lovers. We could both

smell the smoke of our eventual cremation. We lay together in

forgiving fires, knowing the end. The soft music of your rising and my falling, echoes today as I turn to see your thought leave me from

miles away.

RINGING SO

No more of this now. No more. I would have drank for eternity. I would have fed you everything

that I was. I would have taken you, had you wanted me to. End all the questions that existed. Thoughts erased in a haze of shallow emp-tiness. You live in other rivers of time. Stagnant backwaters of my blue green existence fill me with despair. I look for you in passing moments of lucid dream, pass-ing phases, passing time, pass-ing out of consciousness. Places of dark waiting, where I lament

the losses of perpetual belonging. These things are no more. Mo-ments pushed to the curb when

the sweetness soured with a word. With a sounds from empty sources.

I evaporate into what is real, as truth rushes around my drowning moments. Truth I never wanted to hear. That you didn’t even care to

think about. Your dreams were never alive with me

NO MORE OF

Good morning love. I hope you are well this morning, I lay in bed with thoughts of you on my lips, Wondering how you looked asleep at this moment. How it would be having you lying next to me again… Everyday for my life, knowing what it is like to be loved by you totally, Something I have not experienced yet... I hoped you had not forgotten me this morning… That another day without me… Bugging you, calling you, asking you. To come with me anywhere had not made you forget the sound of my voice, My eyes pulling you in, asking you to come sit with me anywhere … On any planet, it would not matter as long as you were near me. I wet my dry lips this morning with the bottled water sitting near the bed. And dream for a moment of your wet lips, then I pull tight jeans over hard things, things I think you like Things I think you might dream of someday when you feel more comfortable. The fabric closes in tightly to places that make you wonder and I hope make you wet. A taste I wait for. I think of you all day everyday. I do what’s in front of me and shirk my responsibilities again. I do what I need to do. You though, are always there and I miss you… did you know that? I think about a life with you and wonder if it is a life you would want. A life in a beautiful home warm and clean. With views out the window that makes us sit and think. A life of simple things and creations of beauty. A life very alien and different then you have ever experienced. Where the cloths you were fit you perfectly. That you have chosen because it suited you and makes you happy. White linen dresses in summer holding you in ways that move me inside. Layers of warmth and color in the winter that make me want to cuddle close to you. Smells of perfumes and soaps from your warm baths still lingering with you. Sweet oils on your skin begging me to hold you down in a kiss that could go on forever. I just want to hold you in the window right now. Have you stare into my eyes and not look away. And know that you are where you were meant to be and you will never leave. Look at the window with me just for a moment and know that I will never leave you. Thank you for calling me that morning. I wondered if you ever would. Days after that meeting I waited and waited, I tried to find you. I don’t know why, something pulled me. I knew I needed to be with you. I wondered if you felt the same. Maybe I am crazy and I probably am. Can I see you everyday? Will you walk places with me hand in mine? Will you take ownership of who I am, make me yours, Will you let me worship you the way you were meant to be honored? Do you want me these ways? Do you want to be loved this way? Do you want to be mine this way? Could I ever touch you and take your breath away? Could I see you in front of me and fall to my knees before you and you grab my hair and pull me inside you. Would you consume who I am and let me nourish your soul? Would you let me pray to you and let YOU be my savior, my salvation…? My god… the one who created this love inside me… everlasting… heaven I know you probably think I am crazy… this is who I am today. Please accept me and do not forget me, ok?

So many things move dark nights sun But this will always move with your breath to and from I look between these shadows lasting swirl Windows cast me to darker thoughts Your skin pale grey in silver print moments I know you are looking for me, Past my decline rainy dreams decide Pulling me from hellish ruins in this lost dream Colors gone in my world one vision dying She finds me by sepia fountains inside I drink these poisons by choice In these moments of amber farewells Scratches on photos my dreams record Soft moments slip into lesser sentences my prisons declare This face soft knows me blue She leads me to waters, I knell pink flesh Flowing streams she gives me crimson life She swims inside changeling designs My hands become her as she pulls these things forth A hunger I feed melting in these final minutes, life’s last breath We have become one the ownership resigns Today we cross the bridges lost out of time Heights in this clouded moment, she can touch comforts down Grasses soft breeze she reads to me sounds Eyes colorful signs bring me in time In breathless night suns design

Good morning love. I hope you are well this morning, I lay in bed with thoughts of you on my lips, Wondering how you looked asleep at this moment. How it would be having you lying next to me again… Everyday for my life, knowing what it is like to be loved by you totally, Something I have not experienced yet... I hoped you had not forgotten me this morning… That another day without me… Bugging you, calling you, asking you. To come with me anywhere had not made you forget the sound of my voice, My eyes pulling you in, asking you to come sit with me anywhere … On any planet, it would not matter as long as you were near me. I wet my dry lips this morning with the bottled water sitting near the bed. And dream for a moment of your wet lips, then I pull tight jeans over hard things, things I think you like Things I think you might dream of someday when you feel more comfortable. The fabric closes in tightly to places that make you wonder and I hope make you wet. A taste I wait for. I think of you all day everyday. I do what’s in front of me and shirk my responsibilities again. I do what I need to do. You though, are always there and I miss you… did you know that? I think about a life with you and wonder if it is a life you would want. A life in a beautiful home warm and clean. With views out the window that makes us sit and think. A life of simple things and creations of beauty. A life very alien and different then you have ever experienced. Where the cloths you were fit you perfectly. That you have chosen because it suited you and makes you happy. White linen dresses in summer holding you in ways that move me inside. Layers of warmth and color in the winter that make me want to cuddle close to you. Smells of perfumes and soaps from your warm baths still lingering with you. Sweet oils on your skin begging me to hold you down in a kiss that could go on forever. I just want to hold you in the window right now. Have you stare into my eyes and not look away. And know that you are where you were meant to be and you will never leave. Look at the window with me just for a moment and know that I will never leave you. Thank you for calling me that morning. I wondered if you ever would. Days after that meeting I waited and waited, I tried to find you. I don’t know why, something pulled me. I knew I needed to be with you. I wondered if you felt the same. Maybe I am crazy and I probably am. Can I see you everyday? Will you walk places with me hand in mine? Will you take ownership of who I am, make me yours, Will you let me worship you the way you were meant to be honored? Do you want me these ways? Do you want to be loved this way? Do you want to be mine this way? Could I ever touch you and take your breath away? Could I see you in front of me and fall to my knees before you and you grab my hair and pull me inside you. Would you consume who I am and let me nourish your soul? Would you let me pray to you and let YOU be my savior, my salvation…? My god… the one who created this love inside me… everlasting… heaven I know you probably think I am crazy… this is who I am today. Please accept me and do not forget me, ok?

This is the end of the world. This is the end of you. This is where you

never wanted to die. But this is where you will lay, On this spot at this

moment in writing pain that you love so dearly. Your blood will mix with the dirt, Where you come from...

the dirt. The filth in your mouth you will taste and remember from your childhood, you cried and cried not to be forced to eat it and then one day you laid in bed and fantasized about it and came violently. Now you seek it. It is you, The filth and

degradation. The meaningless corners, The cesspools of the universe.

The places you lay chained to your fantasy destruction. This isn’t want

you planned, it went bad, and now you lay here and now you die

here... and here is where you will be reborn... The maggots and slime,

the ooze that flows from your orifices Alive alien cultures meant for a Petri dish... It’s all you ever were anyway

THIS IS THE

He looked for the next timeThe one that might change all his fortunesNot money that was never something of concernBut the currency of his soul, The coins he has paid with dearlySnow in tiny flakes do not melt this time On the dark worlds that swirl through her hairEyes of color cutting through everything he knows and needsHe sees her from distance too farSmells that travel distances long forgotten Those airs that give him life, Caressing flows meander through his memoriesHe will never know these things That make her move, turning blue nightsChange falls from his pockets; Tears hang in these final moments of twilightDays swirl in blurs of uselessness, nights forever last His pillows scent, her unconscious desire She knows something is there,

Shadows like this are not steeped in fear She may never know, dreams transport to places not known but familiar These places he exists, magnificent longing, forest blue goodnights Transient clouds too low for heaven, fogs final design She moves towards tombs green rest, calling from yards of stone miles Wrists crimson beaconing, fall grasses grow monumental repetitions Ahh this divine goodbye, she feels something is waiting after it all She thinks he waits, moist earth callings, in these final minutes of goodbye Griping seconds in his nightmare of loss Something is pulling, all his tomorrows flow out in burgundy sentences, Spoken to walls silent emptiness He looked for the next time, looking away in silent resignation This last sleep warm and wet, chances say goodbye in eternal dark ruins

A translucent sound. Dried flowers wrapped in wax paper

An antique French quillPictures at an exhibitionI keep you awake with

I wonder if the gates will ever open I move through you like a soft wind

S O U N D S

I keep you awake with storiesDreams light with the sound, But fade in the silence alone.

A translucent sound. Dried flowers wrapped in wax paper

I wonder if the gates will ever open I move through you like a soft wind

S O U N D S Is this my fate? To be dreamed and then you awaken I wonder if I am real, Am I real to myself Did I dream who I am I say I am here, I am real, and I exist! But will I ever, Will I ever be tangible? A real smell, a real taste, anything more then a shadow A memory in a box on a shelf Only to be taken out on lost holidays that no one celebrates, I fade in my own dream I walk through my own ruins alone Mourn losses that never were

Dreams light with the sound, But fade in the silence alone.

Grasp for another way to touch, a way to fill the gap of bad timing. In through the out door, I missed you

once more. Eternal circles of rebirth and death, Missed by

seconds, by hours, by months, years… generations. I saw you

through the glass, standing on the platform waiting. I missed my stop again. 20

years to late… one moment to early. My sister, my brother, my lover, my mother. Eternal

mistress of undulating creation. Broken rooms await drunken carpenters. I crawl on hands and knees, Fists slamming against glass tables again.

GRASP FOR ANO

Seven seconds before midnight, hands stop in grey blue night I see no moment worth keeping, bodies drained, flesh gone cold I look in directions, darker flights, columns of useless calculation Moon slivers call from your indigo skies Spirits abduction, red mornings wait These days go by without you in sentimental degradation My world I live in, touching sand Grains of you slip through me again Gleaning that last remnants of who I once was The days I taste air, days of pain, doors turn black Color gone in this world, black and white scraps, stains of mine This day I ask for nothing, I give only exhalations Cold breath devoid of living passion, blood races only in you Bones fall dry to killing floors abandon in time Rushes of white, hanging tree I walk this night to destination s lost Cancelled memories in rooms closed off from signs Directions lost in swirls of bleeding darkness, chambers of mine Moon moments rise, I stalk your shadow another night

Can I exist any less? Can I fade any quicker? Can it get darker then black? Real I am not today. Can I nail myself any harder? Can I set myself up any better? Amputation

seems mild under this cloud. Sounds and vibrations don’t exist in real time and neither

do I. I move in boxes on low rez screens. Lost touch and sensation of the flesh. Contrived entity beyond your reach. I could easily

become a memory as I am at this moment. A music box on your shelf, library entry

in history of desire. Box opens to broken tines and

discordant synchronizations. Broken loops and misplaced

endings.

CAN I EXIST

Words fell from my lips today The last words I will ever speak Amber menaces invade my thoughts You spin in last chance dances I saw a glimpse on the last merry go round Your face in painted smears of time Your eyes fixed unwavering on me Standing far from the clamor I pause in valleys of lost words Books left in piles, clutters of ivory Lost wisdom left for me on empty tables Cups left empty from days of neglect Saucers and secrets, stains out of time I open our drawers, lace blue tears Linen losses on blood stained hands

These words float away in meaningless sentiment Things you will never know Warm breathe on soft shoulders You turn green eyes to vanishing dreams In dust I fade in last days of insane

S M E A R S O F T I M E

These fences where I hide I see from the edge things I will never revealYour dark secret who you are, midnight glows lights slip between your thighs Places not known, dark blue basements, crawling night, pine needle floorsSafeness in me, I will protect beyond this thought Slipping deeper into spells, bizarre stains on ever green placesNight stalks with possessions beyond your sanity I come for you, ownership takes form falling to me kneesI will rise to consumeWinter cottage, midnight sunWe live our days, snowbound walksBlood soaked lips, feeding man.We stalk our insanity together in the forests of our hearts

These fences where I hide

I look across oceans of painted emerald glass. Sirens of my mind. Wooden ships

beached on social revulsion. Narrow minds controlling wild horses. Dreams

cast into music boxes. Children forced of age by dead patrons of obsolete etiquette.

Come to your senses and die with us. Walk the line of emptiness with the dust of your ancestors. A swirling eddy in a

lost corner of the universe. A place time forgot. Entities dance in the energies of the ages. Songs are sung in forests of

lavender planets. Swirling lights honor life’s explosion. Navigators move through worlds of fiery desire. They ride on strands of light to places not yet seen. Yet bones of dust rise from cases of copper to walk a dead moment, one always a step out of sync. The universe stops for a moment to observe the curiosity of ancient children

in a loop of death. Only to dart away like fireflies on summer night. We live,

this moment is our. We steal it from jaws of fate. Cast into our enevitable ending we take what is ours in last moments of

breathe. My love will swirl in the ashes of another day, another time eternal.

I LOOK ACRO

I tried... I tried like hell to teach you, but no, you would not listen.Why should you. You never listened before. The stains under your finger nails tell the truth you so pathetically hide. I heard you last night. I smelled the blood on your knees. I hungered for your Christian sleaze. You fall I stand, you break, I laugh, you give, I take.I asked over and over, why didn’t you just do the deed and get it over with. No, you love to torture, your chambers are full and now mine is too.One in the chamber waiting, waiting for your pathetic pleas. Don’t worry its not for you. its for me, are you happy now? Breath in... smell the anime still wet on the page.Feel the fairy dust as it pollutes your nostrils. You are not worthy of an elfin visit. Burn in the hell of your mommy’s god cause I’m a gunna live forever. End of time, end of days, end over end.

C R I M S O N M O M E N T S

C R I M S O N M O M E N T Scrimson moments to feed your hunger

you asked for every drop

I fed you in my sleep

I could not look

to see your eyes in my waking moments

no human life borne so evil

only hunger

I fed you freely

I knew your life... it was mine

we went there together

those dreary morning

the one we craved

the worlds we made

I unchained you just for a moment

to let you run free

Looking through boarded up windows. We peer though only for dark moments, no sunlight

sting. Homes where we lived not in this configuration. Eternal

circles we spin in dervish silence. I sit in corners watching

parade of pasts. You pass over and over, broken record

moments in a pastel lie. Broken children waving flags of our

last apocalyptic moment. From sidelines they fall like posies in our pockets. Ashes ashes I pray you saw me just once. I prayed

you remembered my child dream. Swirling in prophetic demise, medieval caress of shining steel conclusions. I

called to you once more, empty screams in vacuums of time.

Staring at the wall in my bed at night. Blood filled eyes, tears mixed in perfect proportions.

You tasted just once.

LOOKING THR

Final phases in operations never seen. Extractions in clouded dreams of you.

Releasing elements never meant for consumption. I fell for days thinking it would finally come.

Turning quickly in a moment too weak. Green noise fills visions I cherish.

Golden demise in penny moments. I could never dream in colors so blue.

clouded dreams

clouded dreams

W i l l y o u s o m e d a y s e e ?

I know you never meant it as a gift. I know you don’t even remember my face. But gifts I take, desperate children hiding treasures. Slipping away I dreamt of your smell.

I know you don’t even remember my face.

d e s p e r a t e c h i l d r e n

Now the bruises of light are all I see. No release, simple questions, amber tears These fragments of me caught in soft eddies of time. Touch broken semblances of love.

Winds come carrying the leaves from your home. Autumn slumbers held in passing airs just for me. I know you never meant it as a gift.

I know you don’t even remember my face. But gifts I take, desperate children hiding treasures. Slipping away I dreamt of your smell. A fragment you had touched.

I am here, I am real, I exist, I am not an age, I am not this shell, I

am not a substance, and I am not a drug except to myself. Distant

images of a dream. Vacations spots in eternity. Someone thought

they saw me at work yesterday. A phantom moving down a dark hallway. Like a spec of dust on the eyelid, never try to focus on it as it disappears. A resignation

to only exist as a word, an image, a movement or a sound in your memory. A momentary tear in a swirl of distraction and logic. I

move down this dark hallway as pieces fall away. I never asked to

be seen in spite of my actions. Beautiful children offer flowers as they steal toys that were abandon

long ago.

I AM HERE

We move through still waters, soft animations Moons accept us easily, planets meow I think of everything you are Twirling flight in dervish goodbyes Slipping to fantasy, I live these days with you A sound you give in times precious gift Slow descent to you I can pray Pages open on this book, gently writing You I dream of today as I walk through these abandon arcades Beaches left empty last summers die I ask simple question during white silk moments” Dreams spin off to your answers last sigh Leaving in colder quiet days Alone I thought of winter’s candled surprise You were gone, senseless dreaming Another day in my swirling psychosis Something that never was, blue fantasies turn brown I held my fingers up to freezing twilight Moons last fly by I kneel in sands where you once stood This was a day I should have died

In the mirror, the shell seems old but not of much concern. Make it somewhat presentable to the

public so they won’t be aghast. Not that they ever mattered anyway, just a silly habit from my youth. I guess a silly American Dream

remnant. I walk in empty rooms. Devices lay dormant from lack of use. They seemed so important once. An excuse... A sales job on non saleable goods. How many times have I felt compelled to sell the goods? Like a child in a broken home I look up and

wonder. Desperate acts of treason by a child of stain. My tools were

always weapons. Howitzers of esteem. Convincing bullets in a in a hopeless war. There is no future

just the symbol that I type.

IN THE MIRR

Riding through moments in this lost life Rushing trees, skeletons of my dreams Magnificent disasters in clouds of cold prayer I saw your spirit on the platform, my fantasy lost for now No wave to a goodbye in dying colors of my heart Tracks rattle my songs sensuous movements toward final internment Around soft bends in human landscape my entity disappears behind passes of your love Chants in last moments of these cold hours, consciousness falters Perception of this life beyond what exists, errors in tears gone grey I long for this organic decay, rest for wicked souls, non believers demise These old cars I ride alone, trains to nowhere, destinations all mine Invitations fall to floors in lonely station, RSVPs to nevermore I open this book in my seat, tickets punched, dream slips to my cascading sleep Do not wake me this time; I ride for the last days of these porcelain planets Fragile lives balance on broken structures, bridges sigh from across the gorge My translucent thoughts crystallize in shifting sands beneath you It is my dreams you feel moving up your thighs, your knees abide in these last seven seconds

Try to be very quiet please. Do not disturb the crawling things. They will lurk and slither between vulnerable places of your wet tendencies.If awakened there rage is quite enjoyable.If you are so inclined your implantations will be augmented.Vacationing here can be a hazardous proposition.But since you have ventured here at all,you have placed your self in grave danger.That sweet indefinable scent traveling into your lobes.There viral intensity will now begin its devious work.They mutate what is left of your control and initiate reduction of your sanity hormone.We regret the loss of reception during the process of your incorporation. You will be returned to your regular program once our agenda is completed You are on bloody knees in front of your TV we know.Waiting for instructions, waiting for the next episode of your life.

THIS ISN’TThis isn’t the first time a man has gone this way.

What make us move towards flames when we know the pain of the burn? How many times can I watch it go down? How many times do

I hear the promises and know that it’s empty. But I play along... of course I want to believe. I stand today on my own... no help, no need

for another. But if you come around I will give you special pieces of me for your collection. Consumables that may taste sweet now but too much of anything can go sour... I am

simply here. Very little stops me. The flow, the accelration rarely stops. I drive off cliffs of my own making and I do it gladly. I push my self off the end of the earth to find the next level...

one step above your base level. Come to the dirt where you belong. Crawl and slither in the mud from where you came. Sanctioned wickedness

in the dream you had the other night. Falling to the ground in fits and tantrums, we scream for what welled up so divinely between the sheets. Another handful of my hair and you fall from

grace. Fallen pedestal perches you crawl up like phalluses to your gods. I found mine in you.

Then you fell to the dirt with me.

Passings

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Transcript of Passings