love is not a winter spent in warmth
nor the time spent alone on an island shore
love is finding no fault in what you have now
to see beauty in the black broken wings of the monarch
the swan gods that measure life in the ripples of a pond
there is no why or from where or how
no ‘when do we leave’ or care to cry for the lost ones
there is always time, but not now
there is emptiness, yes there is plenty of it
but there is beauty in silence and the vacant caress
love, is not lust but their values are similar
cut from the same yet only one is linear
love is the emerald eye in a statue of the fairest
a forest alone on a distant planet, but clear
love is why we walk the fields barefoot
and you are the reason why i choose to feel
any of it


You’re sitting at the table, again. On the left turn you’ve got familiarity. On the right we find a face you’ve seen one too many times. Alone, and unafraid to pick you apart. Along with a timid bass line, and a smile to turn all the pag=s. This face stares down into the blue water, deep down [where] into the primordial ooze that moves you. Energies unknown to the enemies that run the woe. You are used, you are innocent in the matter. This is hell. Despite all the amusement flowing about, you are bruised by the potential you once felt.

The world knows the answers [no]and yet it holds back the power. It holds the stick as you move closer to the dog, closer to the angry mob that stood by. They stood still, and why? Drums, cold wheezing, violins playing in your mind as the tide comes in///

Take two and the scene is won. Prematurity in the minds of the enlightened. Promiscuity found in the souls of the frightened. We move about aimlessly, they move about wastefully. So do you. Questions? Answers that rarely fit. Scalding rain -insert failure- All you feel when the world comes tumbling down. Your love in the arms of a stranger. Strange to you in our world. A strain on you as the syllables curl. What else is there.

There are words here somewhere, running about. But none of them fit, do they? Immature lyrics to round out the pitiful droning. The music, the moaning. Replacements don’t work in a world full of failures. Not this time though, not while i have breath. There are places one could go. [where] Do you know? Where, and how. We could find trees and all those ugly things. With dangerous synth and a trembling of happiness. Those places exist, somewhere in the upside down -culture- She’s been there you know, far down in the forest dark. His sweet words matter not when worlds collide in dull cosmic affliction/

This makes little sense to the unwilling. To the unfettered, unliving. And why would it. They are but the musings of a madman, in a world of sheep. Similar to kindness, and the music of the sandman, as it mourns us while we sleep. Subtle drops in the melody affect us, endorphin espionage if you will. [not] They whisper meanings to me and you. We fly without this cure, we were meant to. There is no fear in this god, no heaven either. There is only this here and now. Music has seen to it, music has been through it. All the horrors of the world, all the hollows, unfurled. Beauty remains, as we die of sickness and health -insert metaphor-


Leave it to chance and you are left with emptiness. Leave it to the professionals and you will be scarred with sickness, and wealth. Take the matters of the march into your own fragile hands and you’ll be left with nothing -wrong- you’ll be left with everything. Like white off your coffee cup, the regimes will fall. The earth will spin, with or without you, much to its chagrin. Oblivious to the ruin on the surface, the cosmos creep on through our screams, without drive. Without interruption. And the ash will fall, whether we are dreaming, or alive.

Sweet Severity

i live in the black dribbles of the inklet
i wade through the forests of your deepest thoughts
your mind is open
aware of all surroundings, you are
you search for the distant answers like i do
you wonder
as i do
like the treasures we bury in you
old ones empty themselves to the wind
we know this now
we found you, somehow
and as the music makes its mark on us
we find stillness in the world below
peace in time and energy
be quiet and know the way is forward
the way is walking beside you
there are no paths before us
only that which lies within
no walls of the castle we must scale
we find light and warmth in the knowledge of tomorrow
there we find the ladders up
the wooden walkways replaced with blood
life is the guide
all we need do is follow
all we need is light
there is nothing behind us but the hollow
forward and now
fight on and bring the battles down
bring the fury forward so that we may fall
subtlety knows no victory
only the green ones
different sounds to mark us
from where?
different grounds to lay our souls upon
a pyre to the heavens
rest not in flames of old
fight on
be the canvas that is your blood
be the world we need when the rivers flood
call forth your body
sing to the ink you know inside
speak with the fields that the animals hide
you are cold
but you must not linger here in darkness
fight on
be weary not in times of ash
listen to the voice of the clearest breath
you must not fold
the end comes softly to the door
it knocks but once
and never more