this skin I'm in
home within myself
through both thick and thin
I've tattooed all my losses
implanted all my wins
this desperate phase
I'm hearing voices
my bones want to speak
tell me how crazed
how wrong I've been
about love and life
my blood seems to boil
cooking me into a scurrilous stew
few of us never spoil
between breaths
we all seek renewal
but these bleak dreams
that torment me
thoughts about sick and sin
I'll never regrow
replace missing parts and limbs
I'll never swim or survive
this soup that I'm in
I have to ask myself
whether purgatory
has an exit point
I have to ask myself
if life is just a reflection
of inspired time and space
if each respite and breath
just another correction
between life and death
this dangerous skin I'm in
crawls with trepidation
stretching existence
into some ethereal resistance
if only my bones would speak
if only my blood wouldn't curdle and boil
all this trouble I'm in
stumbling through days and nights
of muddle and turmoil
befuddled I'm not sure
if I should ask myself
mask myself with all these brazen tattoos
seemingly places and statements
just where I've been
all my wins and losses
this daily grind
if only I new the real cost
of all these things I live and find
all these tracks
I've left drawn on my skin
all these dreams and nightmares
I've been living in
those daunting night terrors
haunting me
those feral demons
existing to want
devouring bits of my soul
I have to fitfully wonder
if I am something
good or even whole
complete under this wretched skin
I'm crawling in
truly me here
living life through
both thick and thin
when the hand of God
touched this spiritual skin I'm in
it seemed that hope lived
when the ethereal sky
opened my third eye
it seemed wishes might come true
it truly seemed the sky was clear blue
no foolish matter
if my skin is thick or thin
so a ghoulish matter
how hard or soft
I live and try
so is this
skin I'm in
is it truth
or is it lies
all these creeps and quivers
this shivering divine I'm in
there is another tattoo
I must soon refine and get
ink another dream in blue
that one true love drew
that one which seems
a daring dream
honest too
that one caring dream
I just can't forget
that one daring dream
when we first met

              * * *

 

some of you
struggle through life
bearing all its wounds and scars
a few of you
pray God will always be near
and faith never far
there are those of you
who hope that love will come
to fix and heal your broken heart
at least one of you
is lost in far off dreams
of fairy tales and fantastic art

                   * * *

 

as i
drift
into
madness
as i
leave
myself
alone
as i
see
everything
clearly
as i
constructively must atone
my intentional creation
alone with formulation
as i
pass through
 a chill mist  
recognize connection
as i
envision this tryst
beyond that thin veil
revealing another dim reflection
as i
must be there
realize myself
a cyclic fabrication
as i
go it alone
retentive with invention
furthermore i moan
as i
engage these notions
cauterize my feelings
transfixed in this zone
as i
connote
emotionally
as i
denote
invocation
i
invoke
transmogrification
as madness
reveals
that me and i
passing through
the next
conflagration

         * * *

there must be
those moments
in people's lives
if you are separated
or still living together
be honest
you look deeply
into each other's eyes
in those precious moments
you suddenly realize
that person you are seeing
is where your true love lies
that person you are holding
is where your soul laughs and cries

                  * * *

 

here we are
hurtling through space
trying to exact
the speed of light
extract where time is
lost in all relevance
light becomes a norm
beyond visionary firmament
and insightful light
eternal creation
here we are
at this maternal station
spacemen connected to light beings
spinning through this sacred place
existing in this human vortex
basically a reference to earthly life
black strife and colourful space things
reflecting where time dictates
painting everything with strokes of divinity
time divinely invoking sign language
silent poems evoking fruiting vines
violent seconds into mindful minutes
one strident breath following
hallowed perfect time
alternative creation
beyond spirit and revelation
those regulated stars and galaxies
each place where relevance is born
somewhere between dark and light
a holy twilight place
neither left nor right
perhaps worn and torn
existing between worlds
still some dimensional space
resistance between each spatial fold
relevance into plain existence
where time counts down
soundly each dilemma
accounting days into weeks
reciting prayers into months
so here we are prostrate
resembling vibrating light creatures
spanning assembled universe
expanding into delightful cognizance
though grim commands God's dreams at times
still we somehow got here
or so it seems
beyond beloved relevance
simply truth and nature's evidence
apart from intelligent soulful creation
this is a soothful place
so soul must be
illumined with transcendence
this human light journey
revolving around a doomsday sun
such contrite providence
through spritely time and fitful space
still there is some peace and joy
a measured predilection
treasured sanctity somehow
sanctified with a beating drum
did you ever see or hear
lowing from a holy cow
hymns sung to sacred white buffalo
still somehow
we invite godly wisdom
just like that
creation displaying universalism
so what if God doesn't universally care
so what about this waking controversy
we are truly only here
traveling through fixed time
sometimes we feel forsaken
hurtling through delegated space together
forever hoping we cross the River Styx alongside God
accepting our dissection of sect and ineffectual faith
respectfully praying that effectual God comes and stays
accepts sectarian introspection and our sinful human ways
 

                               * * *

 

on beautiful
Koh Samui
where all
those tourists
flock to lay about
repose and snooze
to walk and talk about
sandy beaches
walking down
up through
resort and town
some are up to
bikini and thong
partially clad
showing off
human pride
artful parts
hairy chests
boobs and bums
thank goodness
still the sun
on one side
they chill
hold their phones
staring still
wired to iphone
dancing screens
while palm trees
sway and wave above
those artful branches
Koh Samui
reflecting surf and hills
coming and going
large and small
shallow and tall
hearken to nature's thrills
those phones
hike up roaming bills
scrolling websites
untangling views
so much long blonde hair
tattoos everywhere
smiling taking selfies
a piercing parade
nose and ears
shapely figures
twist and wriggle
bare feet in warm ocean sand
captured on video and photograph
those blinking screens
watching live streams
like an ocean dream
they hold media so near
so dear social people
all that magic potion
exactly what it means
novel portraits
clearly tourist statements
zombies and robots
hooked to screens
lost without it
so it seems

             * * *

 

March first
it snowed again
this time
but that's not
the real issue here
it's some other
slant and mark
some queer
rhythm and rhyme
next year
this same date
this same time
will be February twenty-nine
by some strange
celestial twist
or is it just
another human crime
leap year
it will arrive
it will certainly
be here
on this same date
this same overt time
in another pert year
maybe the earth
should slow down
spinning and revolving
around that
far off sun
or maybe earth
should hurry up
try that out
just for some odd
some cantankerous fun
what ever the course
what ever the equation
leap year comes and goes
on what is usually
a March first occasion
now maybe
there shouldn't be
any issues
but what about
those things
which do occur
on February twenty-nine
should March object
to some incorrigible misuse
some misplaced
historic sense
or mysterious vine
what about
those finial lines
what about
those finicky times
like divining and dying
should February twenty-nine
reap all the benefits
get steeped
by successful bits
shouldn't March first
be just as renowned
though March first
comes once a year
shouldn't that day
be as eminent
as February twenty-nine
oh that infamous
leap year
who counts that day
March first
as important or dear
as that last day of February
when leap year is here

                * * *