Tuesday



HER dead BODY

Here lies the dead body of Victoria, Torrye, Torr.
A silk robe covers her limp human body.
Crows watch over from the weeping willows.
Family cries, family yells, family stares.
Into an earth hole, where her body will go.
The sound of music fills the grey air.
Kiss a penny, make a wish and throw it in the hole.
As the Earth will swallow her whole, the rain begins.





I want to know if God can hear me when I blow the sweet petals of this rose
off into next week. 
Does he know where they keep the dead things? Where do we go when we sleep alone, before the monsters come out and after the dark night rises? Does he know how to twist his toes and read Spanish backwards? Can he mix his coffee with a metal spoon? Can he fix the mess of a world that stands in front of us? Can God save all the sick children before they die? Can he make things disappear?






Ancient Tuesday Wisdom

Today I will walk down the block with my shoes untied and my
Hair hanging free. I let my hair grow long, so you can stop thinking about me.
I said my hair is long, so you don’t have to think about me.
Advice from the sidewalk gets me through this black and white week.
Calendars with dates on them and glasses full of whiskey.
Here the time seems to melt off the walls, the same way the paper
Reads the news. The milk man has the rubber bands while I carry his soul.
Deep, beneath this “human” shit, there lies a lady dead before her birth.
Black lips, black eyes, black mind; nothing here makes any sense.


Ignite the color Green.
Dismiss this taste that sits upon my tongue.
The memories of you still linger deep inside my thoughts.
Darker and darker my mind seems foggy, can’t find my way out.
The love here is raw; it is frigid like the mid December blues.
I know you long for my touch, the sense of my breath on your skin.
The smell of us reminds me of the days where raindrops would fall from
The sun and music was playing from the tress.
There is no other life I’d rather be in than this one, as delicate as the
Human skin. Butterfly wings appear with the summer wind.
Music notes touch my nose while I could read people’s thoughts.
The world may seem cold; colder than Alaska’s ice, but no where
Can we see the sunset and the sunrise with these two eyes.

Monday


back at it.

Unlike the hole in my brain, the words sit gently above my eyes.
Thinking of you, thinking of us, thinking of me.
No new words to say, nothing new to hear.
Her scent still lingers on the street where we first met.
Her eyes still stare into my soul, whole and blind.
Silver teeth bite into a half smile dressed with a cigarette.
The branches shiver while our shadows dance.
I want to love you again, under the sun’s early morning dawn.

poem

looking for someone to 
just understand my soul.
tell me what i need to do.
how to stay alive.
my own

the hole in my soul grows.
to the depths of a sea and 
across a thousand trees.
i sit here all alone.
a valley filled with voices
of evil. don't know where 
my home is anymore. hold
on to the sand. don't let the 
sun destroy your soul.
delicate as my mother's voice, the storm slowly rolls in
pocket poem #422

past the sea, the rivers meet.
sun drops touch my delicate skin.
to finally breathe in my own body.
pocket poem #421

if i told you a flower could bloom 
after midnight would you believe me? 

April


the cemetery swallowed my leg
a murder of crows watch from above
god only knows, where the road will go
cars pass by like light in the winter's night

poem


down by the sea
my soul can breathe again
down by the sea
my brain can think again
down by the sea
my body can grow again

Saturday

mysterious time, mysterious rhythms, don't kill my vibe.

don't be afraid 



being afraid to die is like being afraid of life.
don't fear what has to come and what will
why waste your soul's energy on such a thing?
being afraid to die is like being afraid of life.
we know no one gets out alive, so just shine
don't fear the unknown, don't fear your life
being afraid to die is like being afraid of life.

drive by poem

i want to know what's going on in everyone's abode
something about it makes me think
the curiosity that lingers
in front of shut doors
and closed shades
i want to know what's going on in everyone's abode