Winter's Eve

Lost along the spidery cracks
in the sidewalk,
Pacing along the icy boulevards,
Crunching half-frozen
Lakes, or puddles to the
grizzled journeyman
Stumbling down the sidestreets
in muddy boots, broken
by the still night air
like ancient clay pots
As the silver stars beam
down from the ink black
heavens,
and the cool moon smiles
down at the fate of the
long-limbed angels
The traveller takes heart -
somewhere a warm fire,
strong drought, and soft lips wait for his return
If only in the dreams of a
Winter's Eve
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Dec. 30th

I am not interested in reflecting over this last year. I am only interested in focusing on the new year. I sincerely believe that there will be good things happening for me, and for all of my friends - good karma will abound! If you don't truly believe in what is possible, then it will never happen. I will go overseas, I will be published, and I will be a better person than I was in the last year.  Setting goals will be a challenge, because I have always procrastinated - this will be a character flaw that I will work on and overcome.  Thats it for now....

In the end

In the end,
it is only me
resting in the
laurels of my own
making

In the end,
here, sitting on a toadstool
spending time, like money
on pursuits I cannot
afford

In the end,
I will be a lonely poet
but not sad
melting into the
minds of the many

In the end,
I will die alone
Peacefully
No deathbed over
the ocean mist
with no regrets
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Black Hole Son

Irrelevant and lost,
souls daintily floating about
like so many insects
just tiny ink blots on the
glass canvas

The minds of men,
interlaced with the blood
of the innocents!
Wanting control, where 
there is no method to the madness
Penetrating the supple figure
of the Old Mother
violently, unyielding, beyond repair

The minds of women,
sensuously splashed against the
golden tapestry of the morning sky,
even as the starlight fades,
the moon and the sun still reside
safely in the center of her heart

How is it, so beautiful?
The emerald and the sapphire
on the tip of the blade
gliding, like a bird of prey
as we pray
along such pale skin,
to a trinity of colors
now crimson

Such accursed thoughts,
drowned in the blue river
taken by the nape of the neck
dragged into our hearts
willingly, anew, eternally
yours

On the Razor's Edge

Wary faces, wrinkled and rough, like good leather
worried and restless no one to care for
Silently mourning, openly weeping, for the death
of her empty eyes
In wide-open spaces, there underneath the green grass, you can find the remnants
of my former addictions,
Contempt, my sweet love!
She was always with me, until I drove that jagged blade into her heart, the same day the sunshine crept into view
Hatred, my other drug of choice, cast aside, like a cigarette, shimmering in the summer night, dying slowly
but so surely,
Fear, my sultry mistress of the
Dark, never have fully escaped her black wings, nor will I ever,
But my love! O', my toothless whore!
You will forever remain a jilted woman, a shallow memory, like a dusty desert creek,
the seasons will measure your
Strength
Measured breaths, on a razors edge, on the tip of the tongue,
a certain lust for life...

spaces
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Liquid

Lovely dripping treasures
wrapped in silver pain,
subtleness of hot skin
pressed against flesh
friction makes sparkling
flames
Causing a firestorm of lips,
legs, bruises, and fame
at the end of the day,
we spent our minds
then dawn spent our souls
Eyes interlocked in heavenly
pursuits
bodies in tune with the ocean
Tides
a constant rhythm of teeth
and tongues
Uninterrupted
songs, flowing from her
Deep dark places
Fluidly gaping
sweetly facing
the curves of her body
Against the moonlight
Grasping, scratching along
the walls of her flesh
Wait, I must be dreaming!
That was the dream of the full moon
Lost in the haze
Of the solar winds
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Dec.23rd

I can't think of anything beautiful to write today. I guess some days are just like that. It feels a little cloudier inside the old mind, and it's just one of those challenges we all must overcome. I am thankful for all of the friends and family that I still have after all these years. I suppose I should just suck it up, and think positive, right? Yes, it's Christmas after all - and I do wish those that I know a merry Christmas and all that stuff - so I will press on, through all of the bullshit, doubts, and dark places that keep flooding into my being. It's all good, so they say - although I'd like to give "them" a swift beat-down from time-to-time. One of these fine days, it will all seem quite worth it - that's one thing I'm sure of. 2011 will be a great year, at least that's what I will keep telling myself until I truly believe it. Let's just say it will be!

Merry Christmas, ho ho ho... :-D

What we lost

Gone is the sweet echo of her
soft heart, unburdened by the
cracks in the sidewalk,
and cheap humanity, unchained to the anchors of this world,
taken away from my arms, at
the dawn of youth
her tender little smile, ever
curling slightly upwards,
humoring my bad jokes, and
sarcastic nature, unfit for general consumption
With a mind as clear as the skies over a wind-swept mountain peak, a will stronger than blue tempered steel, a graceful figure, dancing over the still water, smooth as glass, a refection of true beauty, of body and soul,
she overcame this meager existence
Taken away from my life, to care for lost souls, like a shepard, she calms the flock
and warms the heart
I will always remember her at her finest, but I can never forget the worst
Taken from my arms, away from me
This is what we lost
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Four Eyes Girl

How did you come into my life,
Sweet Four Eyes Girl?
Like a weary traveller to a far-flung land, along the slanted pathways, to the center of thought
Along the tips of words, and curves of letters,
There she is, standing over
the ruins of a broken soul
O' woman, queen of hearts,
Queen of eternal sunshine -
No muse!
Likewise almost shattered,
now a piece of my puzzle
not jagged, no torn fabric of the mind!
As the gentle clouds drift along, wispy tears of forlorn poets
I watch them in the reflection of your four eyes...
Rain drops, give way to moonbeams, give way to the mercurial sun
fly away to the ends of the earth,
My little four eyes
Go forth to protect your dreams
and I, no broken foundation!
Here to heed your call,
When the hourglsass needs...

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Dec. 19th

I think I'm having doing well during these depressing holidays...I've got dreams again, I've got goals, and I am going to travel somewhere...just not sure where yet...I'd love to go back to Scotland again...writing while sitting on King Arthur's hill, overlooking the city of Edinburgh would be epic. I know how to travel cheaply and still have fun. I know I need that, something just for me - sounds selfish, but I really don't care.

Through the Fire

Surrounded by wispy tendrils of black smoke,
whispering echoes of the bloody battle, distant crackle of musket balls, gently carressing the ears,
Through the fire she struck him - touching the aching heart, a great hole in the back, exposed now, felled by lightning in a bottle

Ah! the fortunes of wartime celebrations, the clatter of horses, prancing on the whims of the ancient gods, with sword and shield cracked, swaying lustfully to martial tunes unaware the love he missed was by his side

He mused upon this, waiting for the sweet embrace of Death, fists clenched against the blood-stained ground, each moment, another breath, life flowing from his wounds
Chest heaving, and the ground shaking
O', but the angel knelt beside him, touching his bruised face, with shining blue eyes, taking his soul into her soft hands
On another journey, a reunion of love in the heavens, as the clouds fade from vision one last time
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Dec 12th

It appears as if our ghost hunting session was a great success! We believe that a spirits do in fact exist on the premises, and that they are intelligent instead of residual haunts.

Two investigators, a guest, and myself completed a 3 hour investigation that included some unexplained thuds, shadow play, and most impressively K2 meter hits that directly responded to our questions. A K2 meter picks up fluctuations created by an Electromagnetic Field - these types of fluctuations are thought to be indicitive of paranormal activity.

We asked the entity to approach us and try to make the K2 meter go off...it did...so awesome...convincing evidence...more to come :)
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Dreaming in Stone

Remembering the place I first saw you
Like I've been dreaming in stone
Etched into fragile memory
tracing the lines of every curve
the pain in every laugh
a glow in the soul, to overcome
In her eyes,
the hopes and dreams of generations gone by
like a heaven from the
backseat window
My hands wracked with pain
passing by the graveyard
of indiscretions
reaching out for where I belong
somewhere in her eyes
waiting for the fire to burn out
but it is meant to be
just as the sun shall rise
A certainty,
as if I was dreaming in stone
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Below the Surface

Many years have gone by
since the ashen moon came to to me
cradled in Raven's feathers, dark brown eyes seething
like a newborn, unready
for enchantment, and I, willingly ardent
to dispatch the shadows from her world
Then in the night, a great storm raged
pounding the sides of our chosen vessel,
O' the masts did
splinter in two!
Yes, the lighting once struck me like rapture!
Briny ocean grasping me, as she did pull me under
I remember the ceiling of the night sky drifting away
her once gentle features turned to hollow gaze
The tempest was no more

Floating on the great blue, for many a breezy day
head coming to rest on a sunny shore
an island, safe from the jagged spiny rocks
and the wail of the maiden below
now ahead of me in the flame sun
deep blue eyes, and a smile that could melt ice
reflecting an end to the lonely journey
a kindred soul, fortuitous, not left to chance
O, pale moon, set down your heart in another sky!
Mine belongs to another

Dec. 11th

I am really excited about the prospect of catching some good paranormal evidence at my apartment tonight! Amado with Portland Paranormal will be there along with his investigators to check the place out after we have had several experiences that could not be explained.

This is something that I really want to become more than a hobby someday, because I believe in the afterlife - what ever it may be - and I am not afraid of it. In fact I truly want to help people understand that spirits are all around us, and should not be feared, but embraced.

We shall see what happens, and I'll report it here - for all 3 people who read this haha!
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Silk

Its the morning again...
Lying intently
On a bed of roses
Pretences fufilled
Within sheets of black
Red lips swollen
In my arms
A secret love
Away from prying eyes
Inside of the contours of the mind
No explanation needed
Just the union hearts
Edge of a blade cannot satisfy
The yearning for a touch
Like new silk
Against fiery flesh
a supernova
Taken by the chosen
One

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The World on Fire

See, look again into the night sky!
O, the cold dark canvas, pierced by a thousand knives, tiny jewels, like the robe of a goddess
Lust no more, sweet angels of mercy
our hearts are for the taking
we are only lost in the cold, while the world is on fire
Feathery ashes, spread across the lands, across the steeples, across her shining face, pale as the moon, take my hand to brush away all the pain from
Her eyes
At the precipice of Hell I would stand with you, against the nations of the damned, I would follow, even to the ends of time, I would not falter
For now the light does shine through the dark clouds, have no fear, the sun will rise again, like a firefly in the darkest mine, we have found what is most precious
See! The blaze forever burns, inside the body
Keeping me warm on the icy winters' morn.
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Dead Eyes

Drag me down below, fiery hands of hell
Tempt me with cool water,
Drawn from the well of souls
Tempt me, O' sweet Satan
With leavened bread, and
Blood for wine
Lick your lips fellow traveler,
Suck them dry!
Take it all away, the black death
At your servants back door
Take her in the dark of night
Share her with your plastic friends
Tear us apart one more time
In the shadows of the silver moonlight
Drive that wooden stake into his heart
Pound away with your gilded hammer
Through the blood red leaves
She cries, a song of the sirens
Through the blue-green moss
Play us a tune
deity of the forest
Spare me one last time,
Flay the golden fleece
Lay me down
Ride the dawn
Again and again
Till the crimson curtain rises
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Dec. 6th

I'm really liking the way things are going for me. Being in touch with what makes you happy is a good feeling. For me, its the little things that do it: a long walk, a smile, good coffee, writing from the heart, being comfortable alone, and with other people.

Its far from perfect, but the sting of recent events seems to be fading with 2010. It seems as if 2011, and beyond, may actually be worth living for. Being a romantic dreamer doesn't hurt when considering this possibility, but I think that for once in my checkered life, karma may once again be a lover, rather than an a jaded bitch...
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Two

Two minds, two bodies, two souls
swirling, entwined, spinning
not away, closer, desire
becoming one, like colors, vivid
creating new color, so brilliant,
see her through the prism of my mind,
Sunshine in my Eyes, casting precious desires
like a diamond
across time itself, so immortal
the reasons why she
turns my heart ablaze, like fountain of fire
so bright
see it on the golden
edges of time, 
see the two minds,
two bodies
two souls
see two collapse into one
waiting arms, and soft lips
two drifting souls
anchored by fate
waiting for the dawn 

Dec. 4th

I hope today will bring no new drama or bullshit. I just want to have fun with my friends today and see my brotha's bands play...I want my son to have an awesome day with his friends, I want all the people I carer about (whether or not they care about me) to be safe and happy today. I don't think that's too much to ask, and yet the last hour I've developed feelings of dread, like something just not right, like something will happen...its all silly to be sure, but the feelings are real...so I'm asking the universe very nicely - please let my "prayer" be heard and grant me some fucking peace today, ok?

Kthx
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At the End of the Bar

Somewhere along the edges of the dark wood bar
oily, gloriously filthy, greedy
coated by the remnants of
dingy dollar bills
and craven beady eyes
dreams are made, prayers shattered,
tears fell, and love was lost

The wisdom ingrained into the soul of the oak
by the heat of hungry souls and broken hearts
beat on the drum, strum on the heart, sing me a song
O, sweet fate
and while you're about it,
pour me another strong one, lusty barmaid

Make it drown away the feelings,
take it all away, down with the amber waves
to put out the embers below

Seeking cold comfort at the end the bar
an old man, racked with age and regret
never did tread on hallowed ground
never did choose love over himself
never was chosen to follow
the path of the willow

shipwrecked by faith
with eyes like a mirror
doomed to sit at the end of the bar
for fear of falling into something better

Dec. 3rd

There comes a time in ones life when you realize that you're just really starting to grow up. Not that you can't continue to add to your level of experience or wisdom, but that's where I feel I am now.

You never figure everything out (until you're 6 feet under) but that shouldn't stop you from trying. It had been almost 6 months now since I felt truly happy, but now certain things have happened, people I've met ( in particular one person), and friendships that I've tried to build that have led me back to a path of semi-contentment.

Here's hoping that I will find a way to stay on that path, no matter how long it takes, or where it takes me.
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Sunshine in my Eyes

Sunshine in my Eyes, Oh, a divine sight indeed!
not torn away from my gaze, no pretence, not fallow
I'd stare into a thousand stars afire, for one last glimpse!
at once alight, at once burning into my soul, the Sunshine in my Eyes
Whither away, my sweet sunshine? Turn away, turn away, from self-doubt
the valley of the willow shall be our resting place, not into the shadows
far away, a journey neverending to the center of her heart,
glowing deep ablaze with a passion, the Sunshine in my Eyes
No mere shooting star, even beautifully crafted by the hands of Hephaestus
himself could avert my gaze,
for the beauty of my Sunshine overcomes the Gods
Whither away, o, dark clouds? Is it fear that befalls you?
The fear deep down inside resting alongside the bleached bones of
misfortune, not fickle, always taking
The fear resides, no longer below in the great ocean of sorrow, no
instead you have dissipated, flown high into the heavens under the
gentle brilliance of the Sunshine, she who casts the shadows away
like the loaves and fishes, feeding the hungry soul
forever I will take my time, with the Sunshine in my Eyes

Serendipity

Drift along deft stream of time!
Fly away, into the depths of the cool blue ocean
You don't know what I know;
under the dead golden leaves known as life, is something wonderful
Dreamy and fine, her lips pressed against mine, red and swollen with lust, skin on fire
Like a star in heat!
Fall again into my arms sweet honey, dripping from her fingertips, like ambrosia
Words do no justice to the innocent
Into my waiting arms, grasping, longing, too tightly, she may escape, like sand sifting through an hourglass
Soften your glare dark night, for the dawn approaches
With gleaming robes, and ashen skin, she calls to me!
And I, a humble servant, must do comply

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Nov. 30th Part II

I also rearranged my Flickr photostream into sets that are easier to look at - plus I deleted some photos that were not up to my standards...

Nov. 30th

I'm getting excited about the new movie project that I am going to be doing with some friends of mine. The opportunity to engage in the planning, designing, and execution of a movie; even if it will only be around 20min long, and we are all as amateur as you can get. It's still something we all enjoy, and I really think that we can put out a good product.

In addition to that, I have met someone who has (not purposely) inspired me to actually consider writing and possibly submitting a book of poetry. The general outline of the book would include my writing (of course), original photography of my own, and some artwork by myself and others that I know are very talented.

The most difficult part for me will actually be the photography; I have started practicing taking photos of people up close, I ask them to pretend I'm not there, or I just ask them to look into the camera however they see fit. Extracting the real emotion from the photo(s) will be my job as a writer. Other than that, I would like the photos to be of Portland - the people, the seasons, maybe a few landmarks, but mainly the idea is to keep it anonymous.

The artwork will be intertwined throughout the book, but focused mainly on poems or photos that could really inspire some sort of emotional reaction. The whole goal of the book is to cause the reader to feel something.

Anyway, that's it for now...maybe I'll pull some poem outta my ass at some point today....

Nov. 29th

Ok so I had to get that last one outta my system...should be a grand old time at work (glad I have my day job)...Today is the Voicebox Karaoke Video contest voting - go to Voicebox Karaoke on Facebook to vote for our video!!! We need the affirmation lol
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Smile Through

Time entangled by fear
wrapped around the brain
like a old winter coat
pulling out the strings
one by one

Trapped in a gentle haze
Can't see through
now enveloped in napalm
fiery frustration
you add fuel to the blaze

Every molecule sparking, with
apprehension and delight
this could be the day
Leave it all behind
in the ashes

You failed again, sweet faith
Engorged on hope
Delivered only hate
Now you swim in the
Cess pool from which you came
Sweet faith!
Go to the Sun,
Purge yourself in the fire
Arrange the stars
In your own sordid image
Leave this blue jewel
And get out of our minds

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Doubt

What have they done to my city?

High above the plastic din
Above the copper misfortunes
Drunk on the screams from
Pale eyes
And blood-stained hope

What have they done to my home?

Precariously placed along the edge of pure reason
Where I felt my head touch the
Paper cotton clouds
My castle of clay, turned to red mud
And the hands from below pulled me under

What have they done to my heart?

Torn from the emerald valley, so fertile in desires
Once drawn from a river of gold
Now rendered into a kings goblet
Full of the blood of Christ, drink away
You know me now, my body your bread

What have they done to my love?

Drown me again in the abyss of your darkest lust
Lose me in the fog of war
Strike me, silver knife at once
Lodged bewteen the blades of my shoulders like a lock and key
Twist away my love! a turn at a time is all it takes
I am in the palm of your hand
my brittle soul
just take one last breath before you go

then squeeze
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Those Eyes

With a pitter-patter slinking along the radiant Spring garden the hunt begins

Crouched in the warm air, she is intertwined with flowers, some red, some blueish or violet ink strokes of divinity
now invisible to all but me

Watching as she digs in the dirt, roling along the edge of the herbs and into the cobblestone pathways
O! What true bliss this must be!

With tiny life, buzzing about her long ears, whiskers brushing up against my outstretched hand
she spots her prey alone in
the shadows

Malice no! But rather deeply held instincts slew the little beasty!
As we are playthings for the gods, for her the lion was tamed and spoils of war taken in the ebbing afternoon sun

All is well again, as the peace returns to the her world, fallen into place among the roses and wine
Curled up in the delicate arms of Sleep, dreaming of tomorrow, and another hunt in the little garden
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Nov. 26th

Time to clear out all the old habits that are holding me back. If I could clear the cache inside the ol dome, I would do just that. I also think I need to start getting back to a few more poems that are not so gloomy...I guess that's easier said than done, but I have been known to write a few funnies or even happier poems that don't involve pain and suffering haha...

I will try, but no guarantees!

Scarred

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-----Original Message-----
From: macmarshall32@gmail.com
Date: Fri, 26 Nov 2010 20:08:26
To: <macmarshall32.scarred@blogspot.com>
Reply-To: macmarshall32@gmail.com
Subject: Scarred

Dancer beautifully scarred
deep red, pink ribbons
away from prying eyes
not challenged by hatred
obviously

Graceful in sadness legs long
not in tooth, but with life
Weird just like my energy
Strong like my mind
Weak like my heart

Unusual in taste
Not sweet
But with myriad of youth
I love her scars
Patiently placed
Right where it matters
not to be used
she hates loves herself

Beauty uninterrupted by faith
Admired from a torn bar stool

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Out of the Fog

Amiable friends, wistfully lusting from one    
   Nothing-doing! the place he knows well
     Neatly settled in the middle of the mind
        A sweet sight when they are close

        Black rain falls, at once split apart
      Like an atom when she is near
    Over the din of clashing words
  Verve is the new trend
Even in his wretched mind

Opening the old pink scars
   Like a war wound not yet healed
     Living at the end of the universe
       Is not for the faith of love
         Exit the dark meadow

         Time will heal the broken soul
       In the lightning the once struck true
     Reveals now only hollow dreams
  Terse lips and curvy hips
Apex of what they once had

Destroyed in a supernova of
the crystalline mind

Nov. 25th

Sitting alone here in the Cheerful Tortoise while writing meaningless drivel, I was pondering on just how I arrived at this point; what were the causes of this outcome? Certainly there are behaviors on my part that have planted me in this unenviable position of being in this place tonight, but is it really all as bad as it seems?

Because I have experienced failure, rejection, death, faith, and even fate, it has afforded me wisdom beyond my years. These experiences have bequeathed inspiration - but is that enough to ensure future happiness? After all, what good is life experience if you can't take your own sage advice.

But I truly believe, that despite all of the horrible things I have gone through in my life - I will be better for it. Somehow its still possible to provide a good example for my son, still possible to care, and become closer to the ones I consider important in my life, and it is still possible to share it all with a woman who will want to share with me all that she has learned...

I have been called at certain times either a "pollyanna", or a "snarky asshole"

I prefer to be a Pollyanna 8 days a week.

Worm Holes

Traversing on the edges
along the streams of consciousness
wishing to splinter apart
like brittle ancient bones
of the mind

These shards of memory
untethered
fallen into disarray
in the shadows of
lost love

caressed by the hand of fate
cold and bereft of pity
left behind to curse
the ones once cared for
blessed by what once was

alone in the jagged valley
wasting time in spades
at the tables of the unknown
drinks on the house
pouring from the heart

scanning the glass horizon
for a pathway out from the dark
it became clear
there is no way out
but for the way upwards
a loathe outcome indeed

Cherries

The morning sky gently painted

Alive with golden fire
by no human hand

Dawn's rosy fingers
piercing through the
snowy clouds, like a
subtle winter breeze

On the other side of the hill
the less fortunate live in the
gloomy murk of black-winged Night's last embrace

Only a few short paces from paradise
The yellow eyes of the dark
look desperately into the
starry eyes of hope
the smallest of differences
ensare the soul
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Nov. 22

Strange how some things in life are unavoidably tied to fate...even if you don't believe it...its what you do with certain opportunities, how will you react?
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Winter

In a lonely Winter nightmare
beneath the sickly yellow stars
and under the slowly dying trees
dripping wet, soft lies and broken dreams
her dark eyes meet mine,
no longer windows to her soul
now a mirror, tarnished with regret
I catch myself staring
wishing
With only my own stained reflection staring back, like a sad fool
waiting for her brown eyes
stabbing me over and over again
just a crimson mist
spread across the canvas sky
my heart a shell, now ripped apart a thousand ways
a thousand years
Wandering alone in the wilderness
numb to the silver winter cold
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Moonshine

The heavy noon air thick with gadflys
persuaded by sun to hold her down
Earth trembling beneath greedy eyes
beautiful in that sordid trance

Soldiers on the afternoon trek
trampling on the dreams of a green meadow
the treasure belonged to the children
now taken away by precious hatred

The men nod slowly, under their breath
greetings of solitude and melancholy fear
take another sip of moonshine
drench your mind with silver
drink deeply the agent of your misfortunes

away in the trees, beneath the fiery leaves of Autumn
the stars look down upon you with great pity
waiting to pick up the pieces, splintered, shattered
love

Nov. 20th

So I've decided it might be cool to add some photos every now and again to my writing, or writing to the photos as it were. Most of the time my inspiration comes from purely internal forces (emotions, mood, physical condition) but I think trying it this way may let me do other types of poetry.
On other issues, I hope that this room I looked at yesterday will work out. I've had some near misses, but this one seems like a done deal - and it is an awesome place with room for more artistic ventures (not homemade porno, although you never know!) like painting/drawing, and places to go around there that are fun to walk.

Angels

Angels
In plain sight,
A sight to behold
An angel with a thousand yard stare
Blessed with curdled hopes
Cursed as the morning sun
She raised her hollow eyes
aimed at the center of the moon
With sword and shield she tore into me
Like a buzzsaw through to the heart
Reminding me of lost prophets
Once saved long ago from pious fire
She is with me now I am her vassal
angel of mercy
angel of death
angel of impure souls
Holding me close to her tattered heart
never to awaken again

Wooden

Feeling sensing oblivious
Emotions gone through
The winter winds

Follow along now
Edges of the sidewalk
Flecked with silver hope

If only love was golden
Now its at the end
Fallen sordid love

A hungry glance
Met with early rejection
Pathetic humanity reigns

Someday the pinnacle reached
The drudge cleansed
Leaving the early dawn

Contours

Contours
Paid for
Delivered upon request

Caresses
Paid for
Given and greedy

Douchebags
Ready to
Pay in full

She made it through
The greenback rain
To the edge of reason

Only drawn back to Lincoln
And Washington

In spades

Prohibitionists weep
Jack Daniels on top

Out of element
Alone again

Nothing but Rome stands in our way...

Nov. 16th

So it's been a decent day - one day after anniversary...moving along has been pretty easy, although I'm ready for some good karma...I've paid the universe a high enough ransom, that my balance book ought to be all evened up...Tonight, I go to a Meetup thingy at the Jade Lounge for HH, then home early to write some more perhaps...

Oh, it's Nothing

Falling stars spinning like
Spiked wheels
Wrapped around like angry
Barbed wire icy tips tinged with blood crimson
Oceans bubbling over swooning tides cannot be assuaged
Earthen wares crumble and crack along the ancient waterfront
The great dark abyss calls gently beckoning raving
Screaming heart

Who me? Oh, its nothing!
How was your day...

Concrete

There is nothing sweeter than unleavened thoughts

Impure horribly honest - innocent as a newborn devil

While it is in dream state, it cannot be reached by any untamed eyes and ears

Underground the evils of the world are swallowed whole, diamonds, gold, other precious memories rendered untrue

But the tender roots of discord fail to hold her down, my sweet love

For she crashes through the concrete of the mind, superhuman fist
Showing everyone who we really are

Thrashing

Belitted fancy leaves tattered
Under my feet thrashing

On the way to a little paradise drawn in stone

Somewhere the maiden awakens!
Cold and dressed in the morning rain

Lips pursed tired eyes stumbing staggering, all in tune with him

Across town

Unholy winds and toothless grins accompany the sound of hell

But my paradise awaits us
Thrashing