THAT WAY

before evening there’s an afternoon asleep   a recipe of gathering, irresponsibility   street corners the city breathes then exhales a boxcar moaning steel   old faces disturbed that youth is wasted as age burns the fire out then points to the past laughing infrequently wondering what’s left   digging into empty pockets   going … More THAT WAY

SERVING TWO MASTERS

we awake under rumpled sheets of thoughts the prison of two ideas   lines dissolve between dreams and the mystery of fragmented images   remembering corner shadows and glimpses of the lost and parts of what is never found as we rise from bed becoming the servant to the master of day  

AWAKE

the roar of blood keeps the skin from sleeping   while spirits speak the language of awake and night dreams are absorbed into the flash of neon messages directly from the mouths of angels speaking of the everlasting though even they fail to fully understand   while half notes and unanswered prayers drip like a … More AWAKE

THREE LEAF CLOVER

flames of messages   hand prints speaking from the wall   about a life walk down narrow alleys past back doors loves left behind storms and sun sleepless nights trials and errors   while searching for a destiny above the scatter leaning toward the shape of how it is to be   greater than the … More THREE LEAF CLOVER

FROM ABOVE

the bones of words remain behind like rumpled sheets without memory of sleep as day tosses a mixed salad of walking and arriving   the hours melt into the water of day   time slows for anxious eyes while rain marks windows and umbrellas below splashing on buses sizzling off neon’s   coats of color … More FROM ABOVE

TWISTED WIND

The wind was the change   granite against paper   shadows unfrozen running from a forbidden sleep   the faithful pray the fastest get to safety first   rational thoughts create sweat and pull out the tears   the bones of trees rattle xylophone’s into jealousy   shoes and those without step rightly with concern … More TWISTED WIND

NIGHT REST

I’m on my own line   there’s no sideways just the only road I know   a nameless opening to slip through   the green grass on the other side is well past and without flavor to remember and faces forgotten   night rest now comes easy

WITHIN THIS

An unseasonable difference the bouquet of destiny crowded within the magic of sleep the region between unknown footsteps unsure voices while the fullness of gravity prevents the ability for touch   this unexplained element of drama remains bazaar where particles of words raise the curtain on another morning  

JUST UNDER

Night travel the vehicle of sleep a voyage beneath eyelids a place of forgiveness absent of answers voices remembered faces forgotten   a little bit of heaven from a preachers heart the sound of hell from a gamblers hands   favorable moons the burn of lemons and the taste of honey   crossroads in the … More JUST UNDER

DRIP, DRIP

A passive silver moon dripped its light through lace curtains into my room   the faucet in the bathroom dripped with precise regularity   both dripping worlds invoking their presence on me   there is no wisdom gained being in the middle listening and watching to the drip, drip from my shelter of awake between … More DRIP, DRIP