Saturday, December 28, 2013


The valley that lay before me 
Is tapestries of life
A curtain of forgiveness 
To silence memory

Its bells are hollow tokens
Its stones are walls of thought
Its hyacinth is cherry 
Its waterfalls are troughs
Flamingo rosebud oceans
Lakes with no return 
Fish that never follow
Currents never learn
Love that knows no city
Trees that bear no seed
Sunlight in its chambers
Hidden in its seas

Seas of healthy walrus
Seas of swelling truth
The ocean with no fiction
Or no long forgotten youth

The valley here before me 
Is paralyzed with trees
An adleberry grove to touch
And skin your homeless needs
An adleberry grove with fruit that grows without
An armor or a leaf
It's shade is white and always
It's honeydew is sweet
It's muffins are forgiveness for 
The sins that never weap
The shadow of your fabric 
Will put me right to sleep
The dream I have is wonderful
And holier than deep
Do not lay here if you find me 
Or resist this ageless sea. 
Do no pay for vagrant nightfall
To disarm this when its free
Do not pull a pulverizor
Do not kiss the blatant dusk
Do not call a yellow misfit
Or preserve a thing that must

You must recognize the silence
Of a world that doesn't see
With eyes that have no pupils
Or with nights that do not sleep

For its eyes are planted somewhere
Deep within the golden grove
In an alabaster chamber
Growing seeds you haven't sewn.  

Wednesday, December 25, 2013


Stones throws away aren't as short as they seem
They're almost as far and as long and as wide,
As a fragrance you've rested in love with at nite 
You've really been saying as much with your life

So time tested lesser known saints come together
Bring everyone with you who's silence is mother
Lets letter write whole towns of species of youth 
With cavities found in their heart not their tooth

Not until now let's quietly bring
The trophy just once
To lessen the aging 
For presence of darkness hangs heavy and craving.

You'll never look into strawberry eyes
Your Gargemel trust fund forbodes in the light
Your cinnamon sawdust rephrases your pain
While Beatrix Potter salutes a refrain-
      A note played so loudly
    It follows us down
      Past small glacier fountains
    & fastenal gowns

Your eyes are like temples
Your face is a throne
A wide octave flashbulb
A voice that is known

Your sound is a rythym of charioteers
A moss covered engine
To filter your years
A piston triumphant
In lunacy cares.

Monday, December 23, 2013


devilish wizkid carouses
white snownail
on the cusp of the antonym chamber

the vestiges of root cellars
in your mascara box
pollute the Rescuer

grassy knolls of winfield mt. union
bleed heavily with morning frost
and dew produces sleeves for a new spring coat

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

the acid soaked stain of Crawlberry hill
was never quite lucid in science of Trill
it vibrated silently soaked in the strain
the mushmellon soup of an everyman's brain

Lucinda and Granule had license to speak
they met with their mother to wood glue her beak
they processed her feathers and sequenced her wings
a thing of true beauty, alert when she sings.

A bird white and snowy
 A bird of a drain
   coloed in the shadowy scent of a Crain
The Crain was not wisdom or mercy or Just
The Crain was a fury of outlandish dusk.
Like Space in the Winter
  Or Vines in the Breeze
    Like Outlying Continents trying to Breathe.

You mask all your treasure
You hide all your spies
You'll never look into strawberry eyes

Your thighs are like railroads
Your teeth are like thieves
the thieves of A goat colored winter Reprieve.