Anarchy of the Colors
A periwinkle madness is what we live upon:
A beige confining moment,
Forwhich the blackness spawns.
The colors seize the moment
Whirling alland loud,
Superficial and mistreated
Like children on a cloud.
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Carry Me Home
Take me to where city lights are no longer found
And we find ourselveslistening to twilight's whispering song
Take me back to where weeping willowshang their sorrow to the ground
Carry me home to a dwelling where Ibelong.
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Fresh-Squeezed
I love the little dawn hours
That climb from the sky to nestle in yourlap
Painting bands of red and gold
Across the walls
Sometimes when Itouch those colors so
Liberally splashed upon sheetrock
I wish I couldgather them to me
And weave my own golden quilt
To spread ...
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Insomnia
Silence has a sound of its own:
the ticking of the second hand, the scratch ofa weary pencil,
the buzz and hum of appliances.
Across the seas people arewalking under a flood of sunlight.
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Ode to Shopping
I hear thevoices calling me...
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She
She bounds upon the mist at night
Before the hidden dagger fight.
Sheeyes her victims with loving care
Before driving them to complete despair.
Her sword is held by her forked tongue
And with a kiss she tastes theyoung.
Beware to all who come to her to play.
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Solitary Confinement of the Mind
The darkness is as blinding
as it is binding
my soul into
its corruptbowl
The sweet sensation
of mastication
on my sanity
isdeafening
The dreary evil
is believable
when all the demons
areout to play
Alone in purgatory
my own ...
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Stacey Bleeds
High school society's rusty blade
Has somehow stabbed your strength and
Cutinto your once-thick skin.
Now your heart is leaking and
The depth of yoursoul has
Suddenly become shallower than
The kiddy pool we used to
Splasharound in when we were
Confident and carefree .
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The Ballad of the Independent Soldier
Everything that I have fought for
has fallen into the sea
I will suck upall the water
and make a new society
Anarchy?
Impurity?
yes,maybe
I will have to decide when I reach the end of my journey
and fall tothe floor
and pray for life eternally yours
and stitch ...
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To My Mother
She races out the door
And gets into her car.
All she feels is anger
Andthat life has been too hard.
All she sees is blackness
And the lightning inthe sky.
And though her heart is breaking
In her mind she wants todie.
All joy is long forgotten.
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Turning My Life Into a 4x4 Cube
I turn my Rubik's Cube,
confused, baffled, wanting all the red squares on thesame side.
My thumb and index fingers are tired of twisting this
box in myright palm.
I'd like to splatter the small cubes
on top of each other
inrandom directions.
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Untitled
Dandelion seed
Dancing feather on the breeze
Promise to come back
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Untitled
The casual corduroyism of
counter-culture Calvinism,
strolling along in theshoes of
low-budget economy,
carrying all the complexity of
hubristicdidacticism,
all that trademark know-allism,
fallen right off
thetwentieth century's politics shelf,
the avenging ...
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War (A poem for two voices)
THE BOMBS
soar.
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You
Because
You've made me happy,
Because
You've made mecry,
Because
You've made me angry,
Because You're ignorant.
And Yousmile,
And You cry,
And You're destructive.
Your character is yourflaw.
I want to pinch it off your skin to make You perfect.
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