Full Circle

Full Circle

My likeness for you is growing
And it started as a very tall tree.
It's leaves like a jade fu dog
or orange in the fall like the fire in your eyes
or the fire that may
one day release you back into the atmosphere.
Full circle. Those eyes. Orange eyes.
Orange like the brightest fold
In the blanket of space that we call
A universe. Boldly the Gods pull it over
Your eyes. Your eyes. And all they
See now are patterns. Patterns of habit,
Patterns of color, patterns of energy.
Oh and if you could only close your eyes
And burn all the bridges inside
Until you were lost with nowhere to hide
Until the blue blue sky just up and cried
A blue blue rain that felt no pain
And put you out in a puddle
Of black black creosote that the sun
Would dry into a black black stain.
All it would take is a seed, a spark, sight, and a flame
To see that one day the human
Perceiving what seems so inhumane
Will be a white, woven light
and colorblind again.

Branches

Today awoke suddenly,
A mad sun burning
Through clouds. His ego
Shining through to the ground.
Fumbling through the day
Riding a wobbly train,
An enormous bleeding stain
in the reflection of sky.

Leaves piled high on branches,
Below, the shade's screams grow as
Grass begging for light,
Panicking for water,
And burning in forest fires
From the anger
Of the lonely sun.

Another Shot At That Red Head

Just try not to let life walk right by your cage; bite that motherfucker.

One More Shot At That Red Head
Dedicated to my father.

When I think of you
Up in a corner where your
Spirit hangs
You and some red head that crossed your mind
Batting eye lashes over some green eyes
And you two just sway to the sound
Of your beating heart
Pumping so far away in this hospital room
Thanks for leaving some music so that we don't have to just sit here in the silence
I've thought of what I would say to you
To your last tune
I tried it all.
I said I love you and thank you and goodbye and I'll never forget you and that you were so strong and how you lived so good.
But none of that ever needed to be said and
Neither did anything else
After all, what do you say to the man who
Gave you everything?
I had my foot down and I made record speed
I said hi and I cried but not like the day I realized I was your son and the grey sky smiled and the truth came.
But how's that redhead?
Careful Pa,
I didn't like the last one.

driving rain

driving rain

I'm lost in found footage
Footsteps of film reals
Tearing down the freeway
In a muscle in the arm
Of some indignant youth
Like a blood cell in an organic
Traffic jam, and we're all staring
At the crash but it wasn't our fault.

The only words that come
Out of my lips are brambles
And broken sighs that feel
So good to exhale but don't
Make me feel as though I'm
Breathing; the feeling of feeling
Can sometimes
Take your breath away.

The Life and Times of a Cosmic Sheep

The Life and Times of a Cosmic Sheep

I don't feel like writing about
how we are all alive, I've
convinced myself for now
and I think we all understand.

I don't feel like writing about
how there is some intrinsic
universe filled with energy
matter and darkness.

I don't feel like writing about
myself. I am what I am and
I will stay that for now, but soon
a change will happen.

I don't feel like writing about
war or poverty or race issues
or news headlines as I think
it's all a misunderstanding.

I do not feel like writing about
my issues and my problems
my struggles as a human
my dumbness as a cosmic sheep.
But what else is there?

I Am An Ignorant Poet

I am an ignorant poet.
not studied up on my lit-
erature. not knowledge-
able of the goings on.

1-3-5 is no silver spoon
doesn't promise me nothing,
but leaves me thinking;
I am an ignorant poet.

You say I can't bet my
life on music but then
what do I do with my chips?
We've all got to bet on

something, so it might
as well sound good. But
then again, as I said; I am
an ignorant poet.

I know myself and every
one else, but they just won't
take the time. If I am wrong
then show me right if you think

I'm an ignorant poet.
when you're standing up to a
challenge and forced
off balance, only challenge

will rise again. As far
as I'm concerned I'm right
you're wrong is made vice
versa. But I'll live my

poet life and play sweet music
through the bends
An ignorant poet is always
right until proven wrong again.

The Things My Father Taught Me

The Things My Father Taught Me

When I have a kid,
I'll teach him what my father taught me.
Don't speak in absolutes kiddo
Because I won't always be there
And never, never happens.
Never give up, but always admit
When you're wrong. Stay organized,
Bundle up if it's cold
Or you're gonna get sick.
You can always try harder
And when I tell you something
Just say "Yes father, I understand."
People who know everything,
You can't tell them anything.
Don't believe anything you hear
And only half of what you see.
Always give back and what goes around
comes around so watch what you do.
Think before you speak and be aware
of everything around you.
Keep your friends close
and your enemies closer.
Laugh at yourself, don't be an idiot,
And think ahead.

Yes father, I understand.




Happy Fathers Day Pops, thank you for everything you taught me. I love you and you're on my mind and in my heart and soul every single day.

Cloud Machine

Cloud Machine

I am a worker in a factory.
The gears rotate, soft steel
clicking into place and twisting out clouds
high above the ferns.

I wish I could lay down in them;
fill their painted leaves with my vibrancy,
with the realism that echoes off the walls of my mind;
and let a miracle grow.

Whether my mind is caught
in these wide wet clouds
or like an imaginary window cling,
colorful clothes splayed like kitchen rags
and my back suction cupped
amidst the growth of the earth;
green fronds in the forefront of white accumulus.

I have no knowledge of green.
My hands are rough from the slow
cold turn of a cloud machine.



This is a version I'm satisfied with. It may go through several more incarnations, but this will do for now.