Friday

six.

broken thoughts inside my eggshell mind.
the wolf will howl at the stars tonight.
don't worry about the sound of the clouds.
and don't worry about the whistle of the wind.
the man in the distance will show, only
time will release the truth. the man in the 
distance will tell us about your Friday Blues.
broken hearts inside my lame human body.



Wednesday

poem.

welcome to a place i call home
where the sun never sleeps 
and music is playing in the clouds.
welcome to a place i call home
melt my brain and steal my thoughts.
things here are not as they seem.
welcome to a place i call home.

Heaven's drunk from the poison you use
Charm the wolves with the eyes of a gambler
Now I see it's a comfort to you
Hammer my bones on the anvil of daylight

Friday





When the house was burned,
we returned to the desert and wept
son's slaughtered, daughter's raped
like they closed the drapes
gone away are the sun's rays
and the days when our children play
Now they been crushed like grapes.
There ain't no escape.
This is your place, this is your kingdom.
This is your face, broken reflection
Am ma ma-ou...
Burn'n in a burnt down house
Silent victim from bite of regret
Sick with a symptom of name we forget
Forgotten skeleton no dignity left
Unforgiven, we are forgotten
So... fill with the venom of an ancient fire that burned our kingdom
on this day the hot breeze (or high priest) sang the anthem
This is your place, this is your kingdom.
This is your face, broken reflection
Who have we become,
what will we become
One day the moon will shine like the sun
And our heart will feel the love and be numb
Take out your drum and your harps to strum
This is your place, this is your kingdom.
This is your face, broken reflection
Who have we become,
what will we become



Wednesday

Office Work Wednesday. 


Life cereal and paper clips.
fans and white lined paper.
dust and ceramic tiles.
dingy lights and office seats.
work keys and boots.
stapler and keyboards.
light switches and vending machines.
typewriters and debt.
free ads and creepy old men.
tape and business cards.
migraines and phone calls.
table lamps and photocopies.
cigarette break and time cards.
front row parking and sand.
glass windows and heavy doors.
operator lady and deadlines.
CVC codes and paperclips.
highlighters and funeral homes.
main news and special sections.
calculator numbers and commissions.
office space and high heels.
refunds and m&ms. 

Tuesday

eggs.

minds like egg shells.
fragile, new born babies.
minds like egg shells.
white, as white days.
minds like egg shells.
crack, crack so easy.
minds like egg shells.

old news, new faces.

the old man looks so blue,
but he blames it on
Mondays. I know his love
is gone, just like that, just
like a blink. I've seen the
scars you wear and I 
still love you. The old man
is wearing grey pants and
he is wearing grey hair.
the Old Man has with
him a dog. Dogs are mans
best friend, since the dawn
of forever time. Bicycle
loops and scratch tickets.
someone lost my mail.

missing Texas sucks.

ashes to ashes dead humans are dead.
town maps and forks, don't worry
about Next Tuesday.

all the way somewhere in
Texas, I still love you.
I want to smell you again.

iced tea and whiskey. warm
aroma of white lights, scatter
the sky.

Monday

a little pre work out jammmmmm....... be back. going for a hike now;)
enjoyyyyyy

cat ears.

bonnie and clyde 
ciggs and beer
whiskey and coffee
love and weed
music and dancing
yellow and orange.

this took too long to write.

if the sky is the limit why am i placed on the mossy grass?
my toes sink to the bottom of this mushroom path, as my
twinkling eye stares. wondering if my future will be as
bright as this lemon or as dark as this past September's time.
dreams will stay dreams till the day you die. don't try and
bring those things with you when you go. only love and
only existence will matter when you are dead. only what you
reached out to and believed in, will be remembered when you
die. don't get too caught up in yesterday's tears, today
is the limit and it is here. speak your mind all the time,
don't let the flies go by if they aren't purple. drink only
real beers and smile only real smiles.

poem. 

dead mothers sing to their children each night.
dawn calls their existence back home
but at least she can read to the children.

poem.

I’ve got seven men in my bed all at once and I’ve got mad moms yelling at me on the tv.
Today comes from hard work and silly comics.
The future will be for blueberry dreams and mistakes yet to happen.
My house phone is on fire, while my lover leaves the back door open.
He’s left me for good this time. Poor me and happy him.
Life goes on. 

advice to Gram. 

Don’t be afraid and don’t be ashamed of your melting brain.
I know you want to figure out what is going on.
But we can’t help you now.  
"Jackpot" she screams
And don’t worry about the left hand side. 
Just roll your r’s like the dice at the casino.
Don’t let the birds out when you leave for
Tony’s. Please come back with Summer sunshine
and an iced coffee funeral. 
Take your plaid roses to the basement and  clean the
Bugs outta the attic. I don’t want to hear them again.

how many times can one human brush their hair?

Something about numbers and firewood and green eyes.
the way your scent will linger on after midnight days.
flames dancing, mesmerizing.
Green is the color of the grass and green is the
color of your eyes.  
Numbers can help you buy food and numbers can save your life.
But right now your food is on the table 
and mom is waiting for you to say Grace. 

who has free air?


if only we could show all our faces at once.
falling back in slow motion
all i feel is a gentle breeze and all i can see are cotton ball clouds.
slow motion falling down backwards.
my mind proceeds to implode, explode.
my brain isn't there anymore.
you cut a hole in my ear, out will come confetti and dead flowers.
don't worry about that I have another balloon head in the car.
do you have air?
WHO LEFT CAPS ON? 

TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY GO BUY FIREBALL
TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY GO GET DRUNK
TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY CLEAN MY APARTMENT
TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY FIND MYSELF PASSED OUT AT 1 AM
TONIGHT I WILL UNDERSTAND THE TRUE MEANING OF LOVE
TONIGHT I WILL UNDERSTAND WHY MY CAT ALWAYS MEOWS AT THE MOON
TONIGHT I WILL UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SPORKS AND PAPER PLATES
TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY PAINT MY TOE NAILS
TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY TAKE THE GARBAGE OUT IN MY UNDERWEAR

TONIGHT I WILL PROBABLY SAY I LOVE YOU. 
children of the moon.

listen little child
you're ok. don't worry
about yesterday, don't
cry about tomorrow. 
just smile because
you're alive. just smile
because you can still
love and you can still
see. don't be sad. stop
crying those black sea
tears. look above and 
just breath. hold my hand
and everything will be 
alright.

dead batteries.


this smell is 
bringing me to my
mom's backseat.
the air is as thick as 
pulp. and my eyes
are burning in 
the 300 degree heat.
don't worry i'm 
happy today. the
moon told me that.

bloody red sun.

bubble gum snaps
paper bags rip
1999 had the best
mac n cheese.

love ten million times.

seven planets away
four rivers length
one hearts love
twelve mountain kisses
and turning Earth's Love
your arms are my shelter
and your body is my home.
my love for you pours out
to the sea and around my
heart. don't hurt me.
i will love you across ten seas.

vanilla beans.

trash can wheels turn like  my brain exercises.
Tints on my sunglasses are yellow.
Bug bites scatter my mind like rainy 
May days. 
Eggs are fried for breakfast, like 
Yesterday’s memories. 
Butter will paint my walls, like
the dead bones hanging from 
my ceiling.  

trash can.

weird fingernails.
dead thoughts.
Alive love.
Black hearts.
Lame brains.
Unknown numbers.
black coffee.
dead thoughts.
one shoe.
sad tears.
dead thoughts.

one bite left.

hazelnuts my favorite.

there is a lawn chair in my living room.
and there is a lady sitting in it. she is 
finishing her coffee and singing the blues.
there is an elephant in my bathroom. and
he's doing the laundry. don't mind me, 
drunk and barley awake at 615 in the morning.
coffee lawn chairs. 

the weird woods.

the old man with his dog wearing a green tie today.
he smiles and shows us his map of the Magic Woods.
today will bring happiness and show fear at once.

oh my god.

black and white coffee dates with the friends in my mind.
sipping on some wine, counting down the days till death.
separate bank accounts and different taste in coffee. 
flower petals melt away with the rubies in the cemetery.
don't sweat it, just remix that tape and play the reggae,
broken windows and no trespassing signs on my soul.
floating like gravity with my brain going insane.



lame poem.

seven is my favorite number.
like orange is my favorite color.
and sunflowers are my favorite
flower, like chocolate is my
favorite ice cream. 

a birds nest and ceilings.

if i could trade a day with anything, it would be a bird
I would love to soar through the cotton candy clouds.
and I would love to enjoy the dawn sunrise. I would
also enjoy having wings. That free feeling must tickle
your tummy. I want to see the Earth from this view
next. I want to live in a birds nest next.

realizing how beautiful life is while death sleeps.


walking with the dead, i fit right in.
I love to enjoy the silence. I love 
to enjoy the dead silence. I enjoy
reading the names on the stones.
The years sometimes amaze me.
and the Stones are god damn beautiful.
My thoughts are at peace in this place.
doesn't matter which one, where,
why, who. They all make me feel safe.
Something about the Cemetery makes me
feel like I finally fit in. 

I Call Heads.


today was happy like ice cream on a cone.
like the toothless smile homeless man Joe 
gave me after I bought him lunch last Sunday.
My eyes scream Joy while my soul still cries for help.
today was golden like the strawberry Horizon.
I know it's ok to be upset, but to wake up crying 
sad tears: that is not happy like an ice cream on a cone.
So wake up tomorrow with a smile from your head, and
wear it on your toes too. don't forget to count to
Ten before you come up from the Ocean's deep blue.
flip the nearest Quarter to make the next decision.
and Tell that Whore how you really feel.
This makes as much as sense as the Carrot Beer in
front of me right now.

this man and his voice and his words and what he stands for ... so insane .

hugs and today.


My mind is back on it.
It’s back on a Monday.
This last week was weird.
I felt like I was floating
Into reality without a
leash. And a torr without 
a leash is not good.

an august Monday.

fireball and coffee,
happy Monday.
my eyes barley open,
i barley reach the sun.
but sure enough there's
a smile. because it is
Monday. don't forget
to hold the door,
make some copies and
punch in.
seven to three
here I come.

Friday

can you hear me now??




looks like another lonely moon
with the old man.
looks like another weird night,
with just us too.
watch out for the all the night ghosts,
and spaceships.
midnight spiders will crawl across
the stars later tonight.

butterfly

maybe it's just a dream, 
she is too real to touch.
her beautiful soul
and her eyes that glow 
and light the whole room
her smile speaks her mind. 
and I'm happy she's all mine.

poem

it's hard to love you when you don't want it,
when you don't expect it.
love comes from within.
hides. hides in pretty girls faces.
get it all together baby. 
so we can get down together.
love comes pouring out, from such a sight.

sunflower tables 4 sale.

sipping wine till the moon rises.
watch the angels dance for us.
watch the angels die.
having the time of our lives.
gaze into my lover's eyes.
finally realizing we are as one.
love together until we end.
end when we meet the Devil next.

poem

the man thinks.
black birds sing all day.
he is still thinking.

the faucet leaks, 
the man thinks.
he sings a beautiful melody.

the man made music.
the man thinks.
black birds sing.

never blink.

whispering in my ear,
the wind speaks gently.
carefully flowing through my hair.

as the sun speaks, it's a yellow 5 am.
Sneaking over the mountains.
high and low.

The sun laughs louder than this shade of June.
All day and all night.
9 pm it's time to say goodnight. 



poem

forgive me for all the blueberry tears you cried last night.
forgive me for all the 100's of years you wasted.
forgive me for all the beautiful sunsets you gave me.
forgive me, i beg, from down here on my knees.

dead, period.

dead me.
dead you.
dead everything.
I like dead things.
dead flowers dress my kitchen table.
upside down dead flowers will greet you at the door.
like dead thoughts floating in the Dead Sea of my mind. 
I like dead things.
dead me.
dead you.
dead everything.