Carpenters working by the beach,
Setting sail,
The wind tips the wide hat over,
The metal of the beam,
The wooden ladled deck,
Partition a wave just before ten,

Crowds did gather,
Another night,
And in the distance it took flight,
The shadows of the foul,
Monitor the gas light beaming,
It's a comfort to sit by and not sin.

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Not to be said,
Or to be heard,
But the guy that I spoke to in death, died.

That's not a sad story,
Fallen billows in stacks of Iron,
The marching of the streets in ice and snow.

Gather the arms,
Which remain,
Prescience in the way.

Other than the world,
That thing,
I deliberate another day that's mine.

Why?

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Between apples,
The pasture inside the everglades,
A picnic in shorts and tea-sweet lemonade,
A white teeth,
A crinkled smile,
A blue cast sky behind,
The days past by,
And never more than rain in season,
Growing from the cracks in pavement,
Holding hands of small children,
The coat thick and blue,
Drapped over shortly,
Drapped over you,
The hollow thing that beats between,
Red and m...

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Noxious gasses bleed the sun,
The gashes in arms feed the blossum,
Feathers fell and dug down deep,
Never more forgetting,
The cauldron falls in cornered lips,
The building bustle in the stream,
Castrated the cow and godless famine,
The death of the poor did bring a smile,
Another day and other shallow,
Wading in the depths of despair.

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Up in the air,

Streamwise goodness,

Playing the tune.

Flutes and sirens,

In symphony rising,

The midnight flies rest about.

Second winter,

I need remember,

The feeling of flute.

Sinking in the water hole,

I translate the mothers feelings,

Liquidate the notion of believing.

Cull the night army,

Frayed windows and nights astray,

Flutes be...

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Not a sound,
Not a peep,
Not the orchestra or symphony,
Dancing shadows against the track,
Gold in flecks amounts to the bright,
A sun beam streaming through feathers,
And in a cold ground risen,
The water from the depth above,
Zealous in the natured tepid,
Concrete walls between foundations.

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Didn't you hear?
The bells were ringing.
The hallways teeming with musty air.
Drying by the leaf in meadow,
Beneath the branch locked dead,
The sky chimes in with accolades,
Moose's dead in piles by the everglades,
The vroom vroom of motor cars down streets yet paved,
The sickly cell anemia of the dead to rights not paid,
In the corner of the darkness,
Gold spilled in dew of jello,
Into...

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Flourish the flower,

Hold it keep inside,

Cauldron of flame bathrobe,

Coloring the book in shadow,

The stars align in brimming night,

Cataracts opening eyes,

The blinded walk-in side of aisle,

She didn't know which way was right,

Yet holding to the arms in bellows,

A shimmering midnight flight.

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Identify the culdesac child,
The bells attached to carts,
Cars drive by in me.

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As though the net began and ended with the bang,

Things held between fingers,

Dead skin in leaves of fall dew meadow,

Meddling in the library walls,

Unwelcome abomination of dead wrath,

A hand held soft wide open,

Casting to the meadow scream,

The very tulip in the garden,

The dirt that cast a shadow,

Planting more leaves.

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Dumpster diving,

Seagulls beck and calling,

Not the heavy whistle once blown,

The crowds in eyes,

Feeling free,

The empty shadow of my life,

Betrayed not forgotten,

The bestowed upon the rocky thing,

Don't hold your breath,

In dust or daisey,

For the light is nor not thee.

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There is a hole in the world,
Deep but dark,
A blue hinge and twirl.

There is a hole in the world,
Filled with not what's due,
The flicker of you.

There is a hole in the world,
Channel it deep now darling,
Wouldn't want you to feel used.

There is a hole in the world,
Nothing like you,
Just me in basket mornings.

There is a hole in the world,
With or without you.

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not a sound,

not a peep,

eyes wide open,

mouth drenched like wheat,

the flowers bloomed,

the dead man swallowed,

the people screaming in the gallows,

not a sound,

not a peep.

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Full moon risen,

Deathly hollowed arms,

Held out for love,

They cascade the side,

Rocks and other things,

Nothing could be done,

I can't hold a candle to the screen,

In doors and hallway,

Dangling from the ceiling,

The remains of a half dead child,

Gust of air through walls,

Thin and bustled,

Curdled milk in mouth,

The blinding light.  

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Not another one, 

Not again, 

Not held in mouth, 

Not open again, 

Not becoming, 

Or unbecame, 

The sight of you, 

Day after day.

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Blue river, 

Sad bends, 

Moments in ocean. 

There is a small tulip, 

Head in dead hand, 

The memories fleeting. 

Stood beside the concave wall, 

Stood within two shells, 

The paper fall Briskly. 

Holding by the string on thread, 

The things with me, 

Yet still dead. 

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I wish I was a whale, 

Swimming in deep ocean, 

Breaths held deep did stay. 

I wish I was a frog, 

Hopping from each island, 

Water but a pleasant shower. 

I wish I was a cow, 

Holding in my dairy, 

Walking by hoping for some grass. 

I wish I was a human, 

Breathing in a world to behold, 

And all the bittersweet feelings. 

I wish I could reme...

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upon the yet forseen,

in motions of today,

the things between,

the moments fleeting,

day after day it comes to me,

the smoke of morning,

the dew of afternoon time,

the clock fell silent in daytime

there rests in shadow,

a thing to be,

that which never could be me.

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That which is and stands in two,
other than between,
because there is not,
once more not one thing,
just simply that,
which is a being

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Indeed, there is no way out from everland,
No free roaming sky,
No people walking by,
You wander,
You ponder,
Briskly in reprieve,
Wishing that you may leave,
Someday too,
It will be true,
The mellow drops of sunset heaven.

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You are not special,
Not loved,
Not painfully gifted,
You hang the leopard,
Of outstretched hand,
And spot on your breath,
Unheard of,
The manner in which it henceforth whrithes in decay,
The smell of the foul blood in vacant memories,
Vinear and salvation,
Hospital and surgeons,
We which left behind,
Have a look in the mirror,
A memory fleeting,
Like a child in the air,
Never danci...

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A great supply,
Of warmth and kittens,
Clothes and spoken words so kind.

For in the ornate halo,
That which sits alone,
It merely dies.

A glimor of hope,
No more forgotten,
Than the great now.

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Death,
I feel cold,
Sitting beside you.

An image of that man,
Yet unseen nor heard,
I speak it just out.

I am moon,
Which came way down,
The morning coffee.

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You think you know,
But you know nothing,
Nothing about me.

Or you,
It shouldn't couldn't matter,
You don't matter.

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I saw the morrow,
I see today,
For what it is.

I did too,
The child's eye,
The half wit mind.

I thought myself bright,
In reflected eye.

But today I realized,
I'd been planning,
This mind since just nine.

Pathetic

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Like lemons,
Drifting places,
Once done.

A swift breeze,
Fall in,
The last leaf.

Having blood,
Holds us open,
To painting walls.

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Brittle bones,
The scattered remain,
And rain that makes it mud.

When I was a child I played in mud,
I asked to see the world,
The secondary movement of a minute hand.

The reflections of meaningless begotten,
A sacrificial lamb,
That which perceives all but reality.

What a fucking disgrace

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Flourish in greenery,
The person sat beside me,
Pray thou holy vow.

Nested in the banquet,
Held just after,
Another sickly vow.

And in the casted shadow,
Tepid down not aisle,
Your arms held low to grab me.

The selfish hadn't bother.

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There exists in next of kin,
Ashes then found,
Grey sheep in herd along the wooden post.

Given in,
A red line in sand,
Which flow under watching man.

Ghosts make up the ocean,
The rocks of great mountains,
The sound of sea shells.

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A fleeting aura of the last ditch moment. A concrete thing of blood and bones feeling. Great not left unbroken. Unshackled to a doubted mind. A requirement has left you burning. Holes in books. The thing of warning. For grafting to the skin at night. Your life in venomous mourning.

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Tiss the season,
Of men that failed me,
Because morning blight.

Between me and I,
Two tales stand still,
Crooked in light of the moon.

The tread of water,
By too few,
Drowning in banquet galore.

Frequence to bathe,
And fingers sorting article,
White knuckled.

To keep them silent.

Let alone an emplied aphrodisiac,
Another sin to cure,
Another nail bored deeper.

Splinter ...

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Dandruff and heels,
Cracked not shattered,
Rough moments and glass.

Sprickets and friends,
Balloons held softly,
I hear a hand to hold.

Like mine,
Veracious adamant and sullen,
Swollen cracks matching in pavement dusk.

Neither is a side to mouth,
Air in cold clasped balming,
With palm and stricken dormly..

Not to mention.
A soft movement.
Yellow and side flicker.

Contagiou...

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Green indents,
Pattered soil,
A make believe undone for me.

The trampling boots,
Of boys in greens,
Another to ride you down upon.

Sparkling tea,
Loose leaf,
Caramel born from winter.

A slay red ridden,
To my door,
Without forever mourn.

And in a steep,
Gleam between,
My heart does truly sink.

Because I know,
Im damned to be,
No worth between my bracelet beads.

Candle...

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