Disintegrate September 28, 2007 I, a thin line That cannot travel straight The mistakes, mine That cannot abdicate This corruption between two points Breaking gears and joints Making me fake I, a shallow heart That cannot set things right The work of art That cannot bring to light This disintegrating legend on the map Shedding shadow on the coils of the trap Taking my happiness Her own executioner.. December 16, 2007 The executioner knocks At your bloody, splintered door The hangman comes and knocks Asking for more The gallows beckon I'm holding out my hand With a nine-tailed whip So when death comes to hand You'll be punished at my grip The gallows beckon Your life will finally stop You'll finally get your mercy Your heart will finally stop And I'll cast you out to sea The gallows beckon Poppies January 22, 2008 how can the rainbow be so candid after years of misuse by toxic clouds toxic clouds of dreaming drifting in skies that held possibility in golden rays of opportunity that now hold strains of responsibility and the lightning of justice how can rivers see through windows into words and shades on a colour palette colour of a painting that puts together meaning where there is chaos in entropic orchestrated agony which left behind the truth and the weight of deception a lamb meant to become a shepherd and thought to dive through the tiles of a court where black and green and white illustrated tunes of life and death and melodies of choice that broke hearts and mended homes with words that ought to change a world copper and amber fill the veins of an angel and a golemn that are searching for a haven where love can prosper and dreaming can transpire without the hanging of the horsethief the executioner put down his mask and became a poet and the earth shattered into tears of red and snowflakes and dust and scars on the faces of mountains and temples drifting in space past the whorl of a galaxy unknown to the innocence of mankind hope passes in poppies and fossilized secrets like codes in tombs and blueprints in codexes and mysteries in tomes little bits of wisdom escaping a grasping hand no iron grip can hold what is to come no conqueror can deny the truth no king can climb the rainbow Wartime Flashbacks February 10, 2008 Anger pooling into eyes that see no light, forsaken steps walk the tangled reverie. Little boys with their finger guns play at death, and you can hear their lying screams. Machine gun dreams in the toys of children as they stalk a game even when they're men. I hate to hear cardboard explode into shrapnel ready to break limbs and lives, like wartime flashbacks, adorning newly drunken splendor, glamour that is really lies and fire. As black powder and silken smoke adorn the curves of burlesque dancing, fishnets catch the lot of the day and the harlot's pay. But none of it compares to golden ether beauty, my drug. Sunshine touches forgotten places and skips across wavelets. Ripple over the echoes of anguish and scars on riverbanks. Paint a balm of acceptance for the ones they left behind to camp in torture as chaos danced in their sleep. Broken fingernails cling to dust and blistered feet tread onward against the current. Bloodied hands reach back to lift up the clean ones, not questioning why the blind should lead the perfect, nor why the stainless consort with the wounded. Like a saint or an angel an offkey voice tramples into the silence in dappled shadows and golden rays through forests. Rage is always fleeting and never satisfies. What the heart really wants is mercy Riddle of the Crow March 13, 2008 All empathy mine, though my heart is split Perception of soul, unreaching the end Cyan dreams and clouds and chiseled faces of wrath Shells of white scattered all across the path Azure grey sulfuric mountains touch the skies Wander south of the equator to walk the river Burrow into foothills to reach the moon Never let the singing touch your ears Never forget that no matter what, you are a fool Uncertainty mine, burden the undead Longing remaining, heart now heavy like lead Madness grows in mind, to which is swift fed The nightmares of all the crows left unsaid Scurry over arrowheads in the beds of streams Struggle into dunes of sand and leave the sun behind Speak the truth and step blindly or you will fall Remember the empty space of deliberate silence or you will lose all reason Phosphorous velvet daydreams touch the skies Agony raven knot around my neck Violet pomegranate fire, mistakes, and smoke lies Haunt, dance, leap, lance, and await blackbird's beck Bones give up stories freely Dandy March 20, 2008 I am fascinated by dandies So unlike dandiflowers, so poor a metaphor Each ensemble an array of glitter and candies I favour the act of adorning the self, defying nature Defiance is power you cannot deny Beauty is a lie Like the crane with its long legs, posing in the muddy water Women will crowd around a camera, eager for a picture Some celebration of self worth and narcissism Shameless indulgence pouring out of the pitcher I am enlightened by flowers So much like people, so apt analogy Each straining to reach for stars and powers I favour the lie of pleasing the self, defying nature We are dying from the moment of birth The grave is the earth Like the crane with its long legs, posing in the muddy water Women will crowd around a camera, eager for a picture Some celebration of self worth and narcissism Shameless indulgence pouring out of the pitcher I, too, am like the others Pleasing myself with trinkets and jewels I strive to tempt and tease my brothers These pretty skirts break all the rules We are a race that seeks more faces to lie with Code Duello April 3, 2008 I want to fly, and stay Summer high We'll duel away all reason in an unending Bacchinal season Blood rains down from the skies to hide the shadows beneath my eyes Code Duello carries the day I can't even kneel to pray So I'll lose my disguise, ten paces and the next trick buys Redeeming love is so far away, and these demon dreams are here to stay I wanted to live, and I had my heart to give We'll fire away in seconds as the lying Devil beckons Valentines pierce the breast unlocking the treasure chest Code Duello parries the blow Stand back and watch the show So I'll take bullets without a vest, fire a few rounds, you'll be the best I was never alive, never had a place to go-there's no room in God's heart for a ho' Tiresias June 30, 2008 Titans walk the mind, as specters play the piano for whom giants destoy insects and asteroids floating on your tongue Your actions cannot speak louder than words of freedom But not every sound of the trumpet opens the gates for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky and in such shallow madness I find a symphony of lingering sanity against the backdrop of crazy city streets and now, I must wonder Is God in the silence? Like Tiresias, I am blind and it is a certain kind of justice that brings me the truth to search through a dark room and away from ionized brilliance of neon and ignited gasoline deserts traversed with a certainty that each sentence has a risk of unfairness like all reality because although beauty I have beheld is wondrous I chafe beneath earthly bonds for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky and in such shallow madness I find a symphony of lingering sanity against the backdrop of crazy city streets and now, I must wonder Is God in the silence? My bed is made, and I must lay with laurel and wolfsbane, and cage that everchanging impulse that pulsates with the tides and the cycles of the sky the quiet of the night is like the hushed prayer of the morning as it kisses my face one side, and then the other which is why I turn my cheek together we call the myth to life and I find ambrosia in your gaze for I would sell all my fidelity to have you look upon me because though in sin I have lain, I am still that rampant wolf stalking through the night looking for the blood of the lamb and finding the hearth of home the mixed summons that you are singing is full of contradiction Watching you has closed my eyes forever, so I can listen and I know now that half is childish play but the rest brings fire, like Prometheus It is a miracle Zeus has not come with wrath but it is not a surprise for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky and in such shallow madness I find a symphony of lingering sanity against the backdrop of crazy city streets and now, I must wonder Is God in the silence? Bring me your gift of ferocity and your unbridled curiosity as you spin tale after tale of the conscience of the king so I can turn away from my devices of technology and find the space without time, and the loss of all our yesterdays, for only then can I give you one day in paradise where angels understand and I retreat into shadow for the world is hollow and I have touched the sky and in such shallow madness I find a symphony of lingering sanity against the backdrop of crazy city streets and now, I must wonder Is God in the silence? Tartarus June 30, 2008 Angel, in those golden years in time and space where you float I wonder if you remember me or if you knew my almost-humanity and dismissed my marks and the rope around my neck I remember best that you were a goddess of fertility and light, glowing always with a fierce passion waiting to be taken Heaven threw me out, and I can't see you anymore I have forgotten that laughter of love and war that was quintessentially you the ether of you, no longer accustomed to my chilling season touch or the frosty kiss of my lips, the lies and truths of my tongue in your ear I am the devil in the dark lurking where I remember you best and miss you most because always, always, a ghost wants to go back to life and a demon back to the heavens but flames rest in my right hand, and winter in my left missing the starry gold of your face and the precious innocence of your flesh because you, my beauty, are my truth and my desire Truebard, on those frothy shores in green and grain where you drink honeyed mead to remember my song I wonder if you linger in fingertips on beaded skin wishing that you could grasp the poet that is simply a better liar and less of a storyteller I never had the same power to inspire that came naturally to every line in your face and resonance of your instrument as you spoke the old words with authority you are too young to understand You, my stablegroom queen, were born to inbetween times and holes in hills and standing stones that mark your future grave I wonder if you wanted to join me in the hunt, hellhounds on the left and falcons on the right or if you knew I would fall from grace I am the devil in the dark lurking where I remember you best and miss you most because always, always, a ghost wants to go back to life and a demon back to the heavens but flames rest in my right hand, and winter in my left missing the starry gold of your face and the precious innocence of your flesh because you, my beauty, are my truth and my desire Violet, in your darkened hoard where you sit with your shining brood I wonder if you remember my transgressions and weep for me with tears I would have called gems You and I have scars together, if only we weren't a world apart I didn't question, ever, when I held you in my arms by what malice you had pierced my dragon heart You are the mortal maiden and immortal nirvana which has driven me to quest for powers so deep and secret that Wisdom only has written them I wonder if you regret all the times you sneered and called me a fool or if you hold some pity still for a broken child that would make me burn Do you know, you shining beacon, that burning I am already? Intense as always, with a heartbeat I can smell, I long to taste you again with my forked tongue in hell How grim my thoughts are of late I am the devil in the dark lurking where I remember you best and miss you most because always, always, a ghost wants to go back to life and a demon back to the heavens but flames rest in my right hand, and winter in my left missing the starry gold of your face and the precious innocence of your flesh because you, my beauty, are my truth and my desire Eleutherios June 30, 2008 I long to tangle around her like so much blue and purple not knowing what the reply would be or whether it is she or I that is Psyche I have heard that a dog cannot serve two masters I cannot serve desire and love for they are not the same regardless of my desire to paint her several colours shades of decadence She surrenders herself to many tools, has already been several textures that testify to where she has been who she was with what she felt The pain of the artist is in her smile and the pleasure of her flesh is in her pain Bound more by herself than these ropes wound like webs on her torso She doesn't have a name and neither do I Unless my name is Lust Give us liberty or give us death, give up love or give up lust If I take what I want I'll give it to her in shackle-covered giftwrap and she'll want it But I am afraid of the precision in my open palm and the ferocity of my arm married to a whip and more afraid, still, of being bound again no relief for so much desire and regret where there was sacrifice