Square One

Hangovers and Pancakes.

Trees and tall foreign birds.

I return
to capture past victories
only to realize the defeat
of me,

in me.

Brazilian babes shouting.
Robin
talking to me
about shoes,
or clothes….
I don’t remember…
because
it was was Robin fuckin’ Williams.

Best day of my fuckin’ life.

But.
I am here
now

Again.

Not my best day.
But a good day.
A damned
Good day.

Love
Lust
Life…
MEAT.

All fighting inside of me.

All
Losing.

But

I

Win,
when I submit.
to you.

sloughing sin

histories suffocate
under the
vibrancy of these lush
tropical nights, and
I scream
for release,
only to awaken here
naked,
next to you.



Knowing knows
and you don't
know
nothing.
but,
my love,
neither do I.



so,
we learn to creep,
penitent and
proud,
thrusting subtlety here,
and there.

we learn to cleave unto memory..

memories woven by old spiders
and old women,
woven to adorn the
stooped shoulders
of kings
fallen.

blossoming

screeching under august welcome,
night's mystery
grudgingly gives way to
the common wonder
of daybreak's song
of lights.


and in between dawn's shy muted shadow,
I wait
again. jilted,
again. But
I am
calm and fervent,
in anticipation of our rendezvous.



my fickle muse.




we may waltz
or wrestle,
wrangling like old fools.
we may slip soft into the other,
whispering affection
and planning doom.



we.



return

he used,
from time-to-rhyme,
to drift,
soft and
content among
dreams long quenched-
the future on auto-replay.




his throat,
whetted with love's
enthused whisperings,
bears the rasp
& scratch of
desperation
thirsting for truth's succor.





so, again
he dives
deep,
down
into cobwebbed mysteries laced
with doubt,
glittering
with golden promise.
he returns to the beginning,
so that the future may finally end.



a spark is found,
again.

Genesis

oh, sorry,


you wasn’t ready,
was you?

to see
this son
trade your sweet
comforts
for Truth’s slippery
appeal.


a truth haunted by dreams
and swagger;


a truth plagued by magic
and wonder,
and rhythms
that ring
with the razz matazz,
of his story

Finally,
I see me…..

free…

from all of you.


yeah,
its just about time to burn this mother down.


slumber

deep
dark
magic
flows
swift
between
words unspoken.


words
whispered
in
dreams of remembering.


words
sung
to
rhythms long lost.


words
buried
beneath
stone and river.



words claimed
by
souls damned.




the night screams
joy, as we awaken
to her call,
so
come and
dance
with us,
naked
& free.




come my children,
let us burn eternal,
fuck the world and
set our magic free