History

You never really knew me that well

i was always quiet

thinking of something better to say

Survivor

Let's steel ourselves to the pain and heartache 

of the world around

And then, under blankets on sofas

we'll watch hospital dramas and cry

to prove to ourselves that we can 

still feel.

Makes a Ghost

He lifts a hammer to her head, a wielding weight

to kill, or snuff out loud ghosts

But it's not murder, it's only fantasy

a dream 

He continues his painting,

an incredible collection

Murder

Murder on the streets

Murder makes a ghost

Wade Davis

When we climbed the ghost trees

and fell on our heads

it was a good year for panic

Yes it was

How did we get off the ground then?

Yes, I remember; we fell on our heads

It was a good year for unknowns

Really

So when the crow falls in the winter months

when the old spirits leave Tree Mother for

the next place

when tear drops and rain fall from the same sky

the old growth forest on your tongue will fall silent.

Then, a bitter sleep.

The Most Important

Am I a Circle or a Square

or a Line

am I a Wave

am I a Cone

or a Cloud

or a Dream or a Network

am I Quantum

am I a Function Of Time

am I Dimension

am I Space

am I a Sound, or maybe

a Frequency

a Vibration

am I?

Spun

I'd lick the sleep from your eyes

and roll out of our bed

say hello to the dog

piss and make you breakfast

and then I'd work for you

and I'd labour oh how I'd work

for you

Asleep at the button again

I wrote all night the melody 

of my heart when it talks to 

my eyes

I'd wakewalk through the days

for you finding myself dream speaking

to the grass or spinning in the car

in the driveway in the same

old shirt as yesterday...

This is an intoxicating thing...

I hope you don't mind

There's A Time And Place For Daemons

Do I need to write another neurotic poem?

Do I need to type, fevered fast

To exorcise this stuckness?

I heard a story recently,

My dear friend Mr. Waits,

Driving down the freeway

Looked up, up in the air,

To that nothingness where potential resides

And he told his Genius to beat it for a while.

I need to turn off for just a few hours rest.

I'd like the pressure to stop.

Passion Barfs A Few Words

It is

Hard to believe

Long moments hardly gone

But still I can't retrieve 

The smells the air the electricity

Of our hands touching and

Our tongues spelling out words

For ghosts

Ghosts of shed inhibition and

The phantom shyness

The sky is the limit to

Where we'll go when

Blood mingles with skin, the

Drawing in of breath and misty

'I love you's

In in in

We pull and spiral

And I know that in a moment

I'll be totally lost

Inside of you.

Mandelbrot's Ouroboros

I'm not alone in the universe

not a lone set of eyes 

in the uni

verse

I'm not alone with my hands

but I create with God himself

or rather, I am the creation

creating within my line 

of influence.

...

That Feeling

Writing is flying

and I don't

want to fall.

His Genius Is A Housepet

Allah, the great voice speaks

the listener like a vessel receives

words, his genius, everything he needs

to light up the world.

He who undressed from the quiet

who dances into the sounds of creation

whose body is a battery

he with delicate hands takes of the world

and gives light to the hungry and the blind.

....More later

Tu Me Manque

Oui, c'est vrai.