Wait for the Hook

In mere moments or seconds of rhymin'
You can spread the thighs of her eyes
and put your mind in.

Signin'
Language of words in action.
Lacked the physical attraction
but crave the interaction.

And so be passive magic.
From rigid to flacid.
Destined for tragedy
With visions of majesty.

And nothing else.

A pause.


"...staring at my hands, waiting for the slickness to surface on the palms. And peer out the window again..."

Feeling burning glances,
Crossed arm stances.

Once enchantress,
now she's danceless.
No kisses or hips to barter
For temporary exchanges

with tentative partners.

What Measure?

The Orpheus of the evening.
In truth, all songs in my head.

Feverish in many minutes, but cooled in the hereafter.

My burden is to burden those that burden the burdened.

Under what measure? What measure is most accurate?

Atop the sidewalk.
You will dwell with regulars, irregulars, incontinence, fear and loathing.
Delve away from rationale and deal with emotion.

I moonwalked aloft the many tragedies that at first were self-concocted.
The shovel was not handed to me to dig a grave.

In my glide,
my slide,
I happened upon it, picked it up and started digging.

When I bottomed out, I decided to dig to my side.

There I found you.
Like a rope you hoisted me from my pit to the wind.

Self-resurrected?

Hardly, I created you to have you save me and create the empirical methodology for such, only to give it all to the rest of the world.

By what measure will you succeed?

Well...by the same measure that possessed me to qualify and quantify the other-worldly decisions I made and continue to make.

Measure.

Measure it all.

Not by the metric of the world.

But your own, where you are in your day.


This day is mine. I am bruised, battered and ever prouder for my wounds...


and of course, this awakening.

...if only Atlantis

Splayed about the open waters
Truant boats afloat
Thought about his long lost daughter
Damsel, distress, castle, moat

Rainfall had been years abound
Within the sun's rays he drowned

Driven by only tides and currents
Wayward direction in hand's of the divine
The swells and rocking, nauseous motion
Late night, early morning, too much wine

Thirsty skin, like a desert town
Salt licked lips, his sweat trickles down

Hallucinations beg for an oasis,
Yet no birds to validate the truth
The mind plays films of heart's desires
Sandwiched by the sky and ocean, blue

Eyes glued upon the horizon,
Waiting for hints of distant islands


and silence


Be it golden,
for what the earth covets lest beholden

Paths in water, lead to woe
For paths in water will sooner close.

"If only boats could never sink
If only brine could be the drink

If only waves rocked to sleep
If only in happiness, could one weep

If only they vanquish darkness and sadness
If only it were you
...if only Atlantis"

Be it the Legend or Be it the Name

The deconstruction of the hero

Magnificence denuded.

Threads of costume

to

Threads of DNA

Leave all to be.

Whence peace was of man...

And burdens were left to beast.

Triumph was myth

And Valhalla reserved for only epic.

This despondent warrior

Shanghai'd on ship unknown.

Await horizon

Wake upon landfall.

23^rd hour, 31^st night.

Whittle down beneath the facet.

Forever there will be challenge

Forever misconstrued

Delve not for those that seek light,

But for those that need it.

Paradise is for the lonely.

For posthumous notoriety is never what it is.

To be studied,

To be dissected.

Washed ashore.

Feet tangled amidst thorns, seaweed

And malevolent odds that volunteer...

Waves with whispers 

and 

Winds with shudders

The mind, akin with the heart and the clothing that encases all from skin, inward...

Feel strewn across beachheads, reef ridges and seabeds.

It is the composition.

The assemblage of all.

To reconstruct

Find spades and axes to till the soil and chop down obstruction.

Make for land.

Sponsor the enemy with affordances

and 

Then guide them like lemmings to cliffs unknown.

When it is the dark night

And all battles have been fought.

remember

Be it the Legend

or

Be it the Name

It is the same light from whence we came.

Civil Savage

Civil Savage

Born into a wilderness of sin.
Stressed not by derelicts.

Parapets.
Pharaoh's fits.
Brazen wits

or

Dirty hits.


Contemplating upon the cob of corn.

A colonel of Kernels
All reflections...

Eternal

both

Diurnal

and

Nocturnal.



"Am I...

parody?"


Answer:

"Perhaps, if you are not your own."



From imaginist to tempest
King to Pauper

One's own is not in perception of self, but action of being.

With every reflection there is an image, but only in mirrors

and broad hallucinations.

These machinations...

of mind, self and story.

Are the burdens of pride, strength and glory.

When staring deep into your computer screen.

Monitor what is monitored

and let the rest come clean

What is your jungle but a city street,

And endless plains, when walking the beat.

Path born, path trodden.

Civil is what you are,

but the savage is not forgotten.

Evaporate

And the world has now changed.

Things that were lived for in the past are now no longer.
And there is more rhyme to reason.
Call it majesty.
Call it science.

Perhaps the inner functions of being are to procreate and invest every waking breath and every rational element towards the promotion of this life and its progress through time.

The torch is far from passed.

but

it has begun.


In each lullabye.
In each calm-induced moment.
In every sleeping breath
And every waking cry.
There are pieces that will be shared and then given.

For their is no eclipse, without a moon.
And no tide, without the waters.
No prince, without a kingdom.

And no me, without him.

What is whole, translates and permutes into another.

When I evaporate,
He will be the cloud that collects my waters.

The bark

The bark.

Dog beat.

Log seat.

Rotted beneath.

Knotted pines, like wreaths.

The heat.

The shade.

The leaves falling, like a parachute brigade.

Unsaved.

Land on carpets of moss.

Layers and layers on top of the rocks.

They say the snakes sleep to the song of the frogs.

Seated upon the logs.

Percussive noise from the barks of the dogs.

The bark.