a new days morn

Golden white light

of a new days morn

pours through glass

another day reborn

In the ashes of night

there lies but a thorn

plucked from the side

no flesh had been torn

White sheets toss n tangle

cold toes on the floor

unfathomable visions

eyes closed I see more

Her inflow of breath

his outflow explores

the depths of her hair

do please stay the course

There’s reason in knowing

what comes from the source

in the golden white light

of a new days morn.

Heaven here on earth.

How curious it is that I

no longer beg or question why

but rather like the naked eye

accepts the sky is blue—

with honesty and strength that I’ve

been granted through these tales of time

woven as one as you are I

accepts the ancient truth,

for like the moon and sun decide

to shed or shield eternal light

with arms spread thin wide opened eye

keep mine closed now to see,

what beauty lies beyond the pine

is neither up to you nor I

it’s always been like time gone by

regardless of the proof—

in truth it’s curious that I

could feel so pure estranged from life

whose meadow in the golden light

is heaven here on earth.

all prose burn in heaven

I get the soul’s impression

that all prose burn in heaven.

Each homeward bound confession

chased tales back and forth.

Bipolar dreams depression

that yearn for common ground,

a fingers length extension

too tame to make a sound.

If all dogs go to heaven

who’s there left to be found?

A mother’s womb that’s kickin

an unborn Ezra Pound.

It’s with this last expression

your love comes to me now.

Released to death’s progression

a compass pointing north.

skull and crossbones

At the end of the race

make em say:

to hell with these eyes they’ve seen too much

this tongue is all rotten with tasteless buds

what ears are these they’ve heard enough

and liver? What gall you, it’s all washed up!

His sole’s so worn, all callus and rough

even nail beds torn up from climbing so much

lips like a canyon, dried, cracked and his blood

it’s cheaper than whiskey, diluted with love!

To hell with his soul, heaven’s full and what?

His brain, are you mad? It’s pondered enough.

What use is this flesh, it’s ancient as stone

he’s breathed his last breath, he’s skull and crossbones!

A view from 3614 W. Magnolia Blvd.

While someone’s tightening the belt

strapped firmly around the throat

and another’s sporting her crown of thorns

trailing hoots and hollers towards hell

there’s a man dressed casual

waiting for the bus, and it’s cold

and he’s dancing with himself

and he’s smiling, sadly so am I.

Dancing with the Devil

Dancing with the Devil

I coax his fire

whispering he tells me

I’m a no good liar

stepping on his toe

once than the another

throwing up his hands

as if time has expired

Go says the Devil

be gone come the morn

for I have no use

for you anymore

just promise me this

you’ll never return

fool me thrice said the Devil

and it’s there you shall burn

All right said I

understanding his plight

for giving me up

and back to the night

for even the Devil

must do what is right

as do I now crawling

back to the light.