beers four...

four beers
and into the wind
whispers sang
to peer in my mind

We forbear to write them down
until the mention of them can be accomplished….

do you dare?
dare reap
on the con of sequence
on the art of pretense?

or do you care?
care to speak
on the part of what’s real…
it’s been a steel what fares
the fair have fallen their shield
and by whatever we call a god
I do care of the sequence!

it matters
we are held in the standing…
it’s time
and it’s demanding…
that we hear.


Moving to the sea...

and when I do
I’ll cast the ashes
to see you too ….
five peers
and into your soul
to see what sphere
appear as we go


between the ends...

between the ends
of broken books
pages see
invisible looks
in the silence
coming from cords
of spoken light
in the otherwords
 " evermore " 
becomes a door
and together
therefore and for
each others core
" hear came one more " 
said the raven
as it truly
quoth before...

" listen "


Q. well...

A fish with chips 
a dog with butterflies…


... meet the Lion with pride...



they built into stone
and they lived there
so they'd fly there too


demons dream


through my sleeping
a bit of napping
i kissed the tip
of a tapper
countless creations
of ever lasting
flips the flap
in tricks of timing
t’is only this
at pebbles shore
the hips and lips
of evermore
whispering mist
of wishes lore
could it be heaven
this raven soars
and to amazement
he said “once more..”
t’was the very quoth
as heard before
written upon
my chamber door
“the nameless…”
he is evermore
yet a heart of hope
no burden bores
as raven sights
“the chambers core”
and so upon
a starlight twinkling
lines of rhyme
by way of thinking
said the raven
linked and syncing
called a maddening
demons dream



hello? yes I’m hear
I’m just listening to you…

" the exchange "
familiar in his voice
" an arrangement "
makes way of choice


it’s the speed in light
" do you fly…?"
she’d ask of sight

math majors
a favored write
" a book of wheels "
make way of flight

yet what we don’t know…
is who said ‘O’

eyes of a storm

Tears from the Moon...

for a kinder place
the soul roams
a darkness of heart
alone in space

"...I wont hurt you ..."
echoes of mind
embrace within
arms of the blind

"... and I wont turn you
to the dark side
or return you
too soon..."

are these eyes
inside of me sign
of who I'd find
and is it true

"...  dust settles ..."
and trust peddles
a wares unknown

"... don't be afraid..."
to be in tune...

" the scream "
are the just
and just for you


the scream

A Poem ...

"... the paintings ..."

it's where we've been
and what remains
of those to be
are the seen

"... do you have the munchys ..."
for some reason I do.

walking along
there came the two
voices in my head
screaming true
sun sets to red
in skies of blue

"... are you sure we don't die ..."
for the seasons do
and surely there fore
the scream must too

yet another score
where there before
were fenced a door
to the other side
beyond a fjord
where voices hide

she can hear them...
and that's why

the path

“… where is it …”
in the eights

“… the gate …”
is a stride of prides

“… and the size …”
are not the eYes

" … are we late …"
knot with dates

" … are we bate …"
we revert

“… and do we brew …”
yes know…

we remember.

9:11 Friday AM, 13 April 2012

do you wonder why
some stride and why
some ride on back

do you wander by
and ponder why
some carved
in this way…
every measure
is a treasured day

“… well,
and that’s why …”

in the miles…
she smiles

" this way "

the brain

“.. what is it ..”

8:13 Friday AM, 2012, April 13th…

it was raining
and I was thinking
again it was me
but the brain
took over
and said
to see
it is


“… don’t push …”

Mr. E
heart of my art
could it be this
for this is to be

what it feels like
" … spikes up …"

are you tapping it?
the disorders order…

" … is a nervous system …"

a sort of sorts that parts
the start it reports

" … to be inverted…"

courted to count
a cord draws mount
of what certainty is

unknown yet
shown in sound

the cortex messages
" … are around …"

and the code is


the last sin...

A sign of the times we’re in
so advanced as forgotten begins…
when putting rocks on a mount
and salt on account meant to sum
things that are sound yet what
have we found in first come
to serve just one when
so many a round 
means plenty
hear share


seven lives
for eight
have nine


my age
will be forty four
and my skin
shall show no more
beyond this time
" I color my hairs too "
my years soar
so my mind explores
" as it's allowed "
to know a crowd
" beyond this door "
always out loud
the open ground
and not quite seen
yet certainly found
" to write it "
as it's just been
sound for words...

and so
by the other worlds
I keep my youth

as I've not quite been...

"... the only one "
of my kind...
yes I am.