A bright bird sings in a soundproof cage,

it looks around and sees its own reflected splendor,

his feathers are peppered red and blue,

a light tinge of black leaks from its chest

and just an oval of white surrounds the eyes.

It knows that every sound it makes its not heard,

yet it only sings to the sound of its own voice,

because its birdsong never quite intermingled with the others.

It flew unchallenged in days that past,

it settled lightly on the overhanging trees,

but it lost its sense of direction, 

and fell headlong into the leaf litter.

Captured it was, by its own delusion,

trapped it became, its feathers changed.

Now the bird sings to its own song.

It doesn’t care, its the only voice with which he can get along.

  • 5 months ago
  • 1

Your bird can sing

Seven wonders,

they stand beautifully in defiance.

Prize possessions are only markedly meaningful,

when the prize outweighs the value.

When you hear every sound there is,

there is only one thing not heard,

and that is me.

  • 5 months ago

Peach Naked Lady

Finding one’s self,

In a high pitched room,

The speakers hang on the wall,

And they move with my ears,

The boombox resonates powerful waves,

They cascade, they tear into my ear and my senses dim,

I dance around the carpet, my being in absolute euphoria,

I hug the air, because no one cared to notice an old cracked out kid,

Who sought comfort in a tab of ecstasy,

Who swallowed only what the eye could see,

The stuff was potent,

Cut with speed,

To give me that good jolt that I’d surely need.

I found myself in absolute bliss,

My skin rippled with the fury of a thousand tickles,

I rubbed my skin thoroughly with my own two hands,

Feeling the love of my own self,

 I didn’t feel it for anyone else.

I dived into the bubbles in the middle of the club,

They were filthy with other’s just like me,

But it didn’t matter, they were all on ecstasy,

And we rejoice the night and the music,

And the euphoria of ten million hand massages.

I saw a girl, who was thick, and her expression full of lust,

I stopped and smiled,

And realized that she too was alone,

But my sanity drove me away,

I walked back into the bubbles,

It felt so good,

And then I got my head shaken,

By some random dude,

It felt good,

Then I shook a couple of heads,

And I tried to shake one more and he told me no,

He told me to back off,

And I became depressed, terribly depressed,

I’ve never felt such sadness,

The thousand tickles left out the door,

And I followed them out,

To a comfortable chair,

With a pack of cigarettes,

And a thousand dealers offering me their fix,

I sat out there and stared,

I was so sad that he wouldn’t let me rub his head,

I was so depressed,

I puffed the smoke,

I puffed more,

2, 3, 4 stokes,

My friend travis,

He was my dear friend of childhood,

He found me sitting alone,

Dying of thirst and chocking on smoke,

That bloody bloke saved my night,

We sat down and talked,

I told him how I loved everyone,

And that everything felt so over abundantly good,

How the euphoria just seeped out of my skin,

And my teeth mashed,

Leaving me with a shaky smile,

And fucked up gums,

I was FUCKED UP,

Then I told him how I didn’t want to go inside,

I was sad that he wouldn’t let me give him a head rub,

He tried and tried to pry me off the chair,

And I just didn’t want to move,

He almost gave up,

Then skrillex came on,

And the bass dropped and my sadness dropped with it,

I felt my skin glide through the cool air,

As I dived back into the hellish pit of euphoria,

Inside I was back in the warmth,

With all the tweaked out faces,

And all the lights,

I got plunged back into it,

I watched light shows in awe,

I was mesmerized,

Hypnotized,

I did rebirths till I almost passed out,

And then I sat there,

 In awe,

Rolling hard,

Rolling rolling rolling rolling.

  • 6 months ago

The Fool, his transformation, The Fool and his daughter

On the spur,

falling through the motions of the air,

dissipating is the lackluster fool,

a lady pale as snow, hair so fair,

down on the path,

he hath no remembrance of night’s past,

the fool in his stupor, stumbles into her.

Cast from his mind is any doubt,

twinkle in her eye,

beautiful locks of rye,

the fool no longer wonders,

his mind clicking into place,

forgetting ideas from over yonder.

Down from Reno,

the wise man goes,

hand in hand with the fair lady,

going anywhere the wind blows,

catching the scintillating waves,

the smell of music, and the taste of sound,

here and there, everywhere,

melted in reality, is their face, their smile, their fire.

The apex of the moment,

is no longer wastefully spent,

the wise man and his fair maiden,

find their hole, I should say den,

one with the kindred,

they lay in bed,

the green refracted through glass,

a white rocket they pass,

contemplating the sound of a tree,

perfectly in harmony they begin to see,

that life isn’t unfair once you catch whiff of the fine air.

The day’s carry on,

meanwhile the chatter rambles on,

the Plant is wailing,

as the maiden is flaying,

her arms left and right,

locked in a vice,

her hand on his, exceptionally tight.

Breathe the middle one said,

the rumble of the womb,

late to arrival, the angel wails,

tears are ever present,

slowly and steady they make their descent.

Down the silken skin they drip,

tracing a line till they see fit,

the Wise man knows well,

and with joyous merriment wipes it dry.

With a soft motion the locks of rye turn,

to the Wise man planted next to the fern,

the fronds dangle overhead with much delight,

with a glimmering smile and no sign of fright,

the young couple share their creation,

with a love so strong, much drawn to affection,

the young angel is cusped to her arm,

and the wise man ensures no harm.

Dedicated to my brother and his beautiful daughter.

  • 8 months ago

The streets sing the song of victory.

Papers fly everywhere,

people sing and chant, “it’s all over”,

shamrocks and clover’s line the streets all-over.

The crowd stands proud in defiance, they took a stand,

against the black veil of corruption, they took a chance, 

with love in their hearts and flowers in their hands.

They may once again dance and see the light of day,

without obstruction of the fetid smog that once was in the way.

The black veil of exhausted soot,

no longer blackened the tall tree’s root.

"Hey mom, look at all the people!",

the young child said,

no longer were they lonely,

praying to the god forsaken pretty people on the steeple.

Once born in a generation so dead,

dead to the fact that there existed,

undulating subliminal attacks,

pounding subtle images into your mind and senses,

breaking the stalwart path and finding you in an early sentence.

A life sentence of misery and lack of truth,

of searching without instead of within,

flying through life on each emotional whim,

hoping to catch a sensation of pleasure,

each and every time,

each and every fucking time,

they sought pleasure to quickly measure,

they’re self-righteous desires to be pompous,

looking down on what they considered drones,

till they fell sway to their own disease, down to their very bones.

Attack man,

such a heavy word,

love is all you need, they’ve played the lines before,

in the days of generation’s past,

their efforts left an imprint for us to grasp,

as they clasped their hands and sang of peace,

and a rolled up medicine was gently passed,

the gooks in the jungle were mortally gassed.

You see, it’s not so different where we are at,

except its television that alienates us from the past,

if we don’t stop to see that the evil is back,

the subliminal messages will continue to attack.

  • 8 months ago
  • 8 months ago
  • 319

Falling star

Sweet love,

love towering above,

above the silken skies,

above all the lies,

peering down over life’s demise,

your masterful gaze is ever so complacent,

taking a dark and long descent,

down the path of regret which you are forging.

Bricks laid sideways and mortar yet to dry,

the very pace of this feeling is not going to die,

may the progression of events seem like molasses,

that I must wait patiently, peering past my glasses,

at your beautiful self, and you know what else?

I can’t help myself,

your ever so alluring,

and I know you find it endearing,

for me to serenade you with poetry,

from the bowels and depths of what’s inside of me,

but darling just listen,

listen for a little bit,

I can’t quit,

I have this feeling that won’t remiss,

and I know now here something is amiss,

like a missing piece of the puzzle,

like a lost gear in clockwork,

its as if everything is hanging in the balance to make this work.

I don’t mind counting my days till oblivion,

but one thing is for sure,

that while I am still breathing,

you are to know of my affection.

  • 8 months ago
  • 5

Pure joy

I find pure joy,

when I hear your words, I dare not toy,

with the thought of an imminent interruption,

into your the softness of your voice, the sweetness of your gaze,

I may loose my mind in space,

but I don’t care,

space, ceasing to be a place,

where everything I see, I fall to, and stay amazed,

I’m not lost in the windows of my soul,

quite the opposite I’m treading willfully,

into the recesses of this dark checkered paradise,

where demons of thought wrangle with my synapses,

and the thoughts they loop, incessant lapses,

of highs and lows,

of the ego’s blows,

I throw myself into the ether, and return,

with a smile, that you may in turn,

hear these beautiful tales of valor,

and not be lost in the world’s squalor,

so we may sit like children in the rain,

and share the fiery needles of life’s pain,

I know you struggle, and I know I smuggle,

the truth amidst the lies,

 the beauty that lies in disguise,

its not all dark and gritty in this painful city,

a weeks work and wait, makes it all the worth,

just to see you for one fleeting moment,

so that I may be spent,

with all the words I’ve been holding,

all the thoughts that are unfolding,

because I know that you’ll listen without diluting,

to these words of mine, without intruding,

I see it in your eyes, you genuinely care,

I hope your not scared darling,

because the world is a big place,

but I’ll say it a thousand times and definitely keep it in this mind of mine,

I find comfort in just looking,

looking closely,

at that beautiful face.

  • 8 months ago
  • 4

Here, there, and everywhere

If there was an inkling of laughter,

of tall affection amidst the rapture,

id tell you I’ll watch the moonlight glare,

amidst the towering rafters of the castle of my mind,

and know that my sanity has been left behind,

knowing that that beautiful light has given its share,

to my puny little soul,

I know that it’s goal,

is not to impress me or undress me,

the beautiful moonlight is there to caress thee,

under its starlit haze,

that the rampant thoughts in your head cease to be a maze.

I am amazed by you, I do wish to tell you,

that I’m just dying and trying,

confiding and chiding,

my very own self,

soldered and steeled,

from the earth, the stars, the sun, and the moon,

and knowing that we all share this creation,

I find genuine elation, knowing we are all the same,

you don’t roundabout and step around in a pointless game,

never caught up in someone else’s fame,

I guess that’s one of the many things attractive,

about your porcelain frame,

but let’s not digress to the physical,

for many lovers past have treaded that familiar ground,

I tell you what I see is not tangible,

what I hear is much more ample,

from those sweet lips, great words carry,

and when the days and nights might leave me weary,

I find solace in the simple pleasure of your voice and logic,

I don’t know what it is, but darling your so magnetic.

  • 8 months ago
  • 2

Wild thing

Sweet thing,

thing from over yonder,

thing with gazing eyes of wonder,

I dare not associate you longer,

with the deprecating meaning of a mere “thing”.

For you to me are beautiful,

eyes full of luster,

eyes to behold,

with courage I can barely muster.

Tall and blazing like the sun,

firm on your feet, lacking the jump,

of a wild revolver, a target-less gun,

your powerful words stream in waves,

and I must say, I’m a fool for you,

but of that I’m not too concerned,

what is it that bides my time?

It’s these words that cascade and rhyme.

So that soon one day,

they might make you smile,

and when your teeth glimmer in the light,

my heart may soar, it’s love taking flight,

that dreams as they seem might break their seam,

of the perpetual reality that I’m in.

That the veil of my thoughts master my arms,

to enfold your refined waist,

and to think this poetry will not go to waste,

because what once seemed to me so illusory,

will most certainly fight it’s contrary nature,

of falsification, and know now,

without a sliver of a doubt,

that together, we might have a future.

  • 8 months ago
  • 9