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[Thu10052006: 02:33am]

Wet-bellied banker crusting over spilled marrow

I am a human I am a god

Gut of the crimson Buddha and eleven hours more

We will tower over God and fall under God

My neck is the dividing mule

And hair spouts from the worthless woman

And hair pulls in sickened hands

Gutter of smoldering women

Alley in the daylight

Aimless troubadours, Christmas wreaths and bastardized children

Scheming flightless machines on the druggist’s mane


[Thu10052006: 02:19am]

I will gesture the last bone to fall

Into a place unlike

The Earth’s writhing wound spoiling what is left

To be captured


Torchlight dissipates, yellow midnight glides

Over my neck with cold hands


[Thu10052006: 02:18am]

Having filled me with the dry stone feed

I discover no remedy lasts,

For longer than the instant


a single helpless moment

The only source

The shallow present, the intangible future and

A deep pond black of what barely was


Cross my paths unconquerable

Bring me the dry stone feed

My actions



I am miserable

In the system of consequence

And am handed unbearable sensations


[Thu10052006: 02:16am]


They approach us in a parlor chair


[Thu10052006: 02:15am]

You are smoke in the hand

Hand that fades from a light

Emanates through the grey


If you need something done

If you need something done

I’m on fire, all the time


You are veins filled with light

Streets of people with deadlines

Rain and light in the dark



If you need something done

If your smoke blows away

I’m on fire, all the time


I’m on fire, all the time


I’m on fire all the time



[Thu10052006: 02:13am]

I don’t mouth dead words

To dying eyes anymore


[Fri08252006: 02:51pm]

Carving a hole to glimpse the dilated ego

Careening, devoting hairs of misfortune

To that balding, ethereal world


 I was a blast from the painted cannon

Silent, mastered, incapable



And still am, mind you (mind myself)

The truncated piano and smothered wooden doll

The muddied bonnet, bleached photograph

Of a corner store


You have adored the other things

And these are not your own

They are not kept in silence


As the cannon

2 pianosenter

[Fri08252006: 02:44pm]

With time, the old blood does not wash away

Apart from time, the snow adheres

And you are turned to ice mid-day


unfinished [Fri08252006: 02:44pm]

Deep-eyed Susan braves that ornate gleam

Anglo-Saxon cars on wooden streets

The timber cracks and ice deprives

A shoulder over half the lake

And mirrors divide, reflect the face

Casting half on either bank

The muddy reeds embalm and shake

What sand so swiftly demonstrates


[Fri08252006: 02:42pm]

Strands of that ugly, greenish fire

Purge the hard will of discourse

That emptiness of fire stains

With heat the glowing room



There is nowhere for you to be

There is nothing in the water



Smooth stones and fecal matter

Curling white-knuckled under the water

Filing through outdated names

Address cards and greenish flames-


The old smoke putrefies its air

As old men comb their brittle hair

And underneath their crippled feet

Lay dead the old men turned to peat

1 pianoenter

[Fri08252006: 02:40pm]

Yesterday held no weight at all;

No solitude of desert

The ash remained and char dissolved

A little, but rain did not spray

Nor did my hunger make a sound

The earth was plain and moonlit

I did not hear

Did not drink

Yesterday, the dead were gowned

And infantile voices sang

The elemental human hymn

But nothing changed, no violent car

Traversed my neighborhood at dawn

Colliding into stellar blood

Of headlights and the light of gods

1 pianoenter

[Fri08252006: 02:39pm]

So many the gestures rustle on

Cast shade against and over, like sheets

Hanging on to naked flesh

The water has its own caress


A palm and in it, flightless birds

A fist and in it, scarecrows

In the wooden house, there are people

Sleeping like I would sleep


Half awake like I would surely be

If love had come and gone away

The fire pulls at nothing real

But from the world, those flames conceal


Whatever things time can’t divide

That fire and those female eyes

If struck dead on the darkly field

Of winter, near the frozen pond


I’d hope a swan would try to take

My carcass as its lover


My children will discover more

And theirs will have what mine desired


At rest between the timeless things

Theirs too will know

Sweet fire


[Fri08252006: 02:39pm]

The road in my town

Mirrors the road in yours            But god does not tread softly

And god does not refine

Our elegies the roads deduce

I could assume, (and so could I,)

That there’s light now,                       on the emptied dark

There is god somewhere or nowhere, all parts of god gathering into one god

Moving as a train with human inconsistencies

Through the empire of variation

Through the luckless, countered night

I have seen it on my country road,       On boats that splinter

God will not refine it


1 pianoenter

Blue Temple. [Sat11052005: 06:01pm]

I have raised all strenuous flags

The birds are slowly pulling away

Reveling in the task at hand


This is the death of my desire.


In turning against sensation

Before the vision starts to blur

I behold the cathedral of self-control


This is the death of my disorder.


The birds descend

Before rising

As a sheet over the dead


This is the birth of my transcendence.

5 pianosenter

[Tue06142005: 01:19am]
Tomorrow and tomorrow
I will contemplate tomorrow
To reach out and before me, hold
Closer than the iris to my vision
A culmination of true strategy

Laced in the elegance of vulnerability
Masked by the face of conceit

And we speak of this tomorrow
As we did before there was today
Still lacking this moment precise
Time sets our clocks behind her

Poses of horses, cubed again, again cubed
As if to say,
Perhaps tomorrow “I” will be met with praise
For unlocking the shape of immovable time
Filled with the nature of absolute place

Distance meets acceptance
Half-way down the road
And from out of the way, our feelings speak
With a breath of resolve, a breath of lament
Voices that mourn in crowds concealed
Singing of reclusive truths
In all impossibilities

Toward the end,
We journey to such ends
That at its end decides to give
Anything it cannot then possess

The end will breathe
Life into the city streets
Expanding dry and narrow throats
Of horses posed in photographs

[Tue06142005: 01:19am]
No mind surpasses that which has no mind
Beyond the realm of intellect,
Lives power without cease

Behold his thunder,
His light to rend the heavens
In our final breath we gaze
We gaze, our eyes, we gaze

We continue,
In vanishing breath
To understand, to comprehend,
That which knows but does not ask
That which does without concern

Our image takes us to the urn
To reap the unsown fields of mind
There cannot live departure
For the consciousness is man’s demise

Reach and know you cannot grasp
The unbound yes of being


And faultless beams of unhindered light
Flood the unanswered universe
To show there is no answer

For no question can arise.

[Tue06142005: 01:18am]
The image of a field, desire
Making luminous each blade of green reprieve
The wind, the wind,
And lo’, the wind it pours
Through a body of light amid rain-soaked fields

None shall bring you harm, no harm
No man shall strip your feathers
As silent deer traverse their paths
We find our souls, forgetting the body

Desire no more, this place and none
Desire this light, desire none else

The image cannot reappear
A field and rain, the fawn

The brief and unexpected scene
That dwells in bones of upper-gods
May visit you as rain

As rain
While walking through the dell

You exhale
As it will sigh
And as it fades
You steal from sight

Beneath the gaze of upper-gods
Departing from their bodies

[Thu03032005: 02:32pm]
“I will die with you.”
Yesteryear & the approaching voice
Indeed turns out to close
With a sigh – no pause,
The sigh

Uncovered later was
The Queen of Spades
I handed it to him,
Fully aware that I
Had grown uncomfortable

Despair is
A backward stillness
From which I will not recover.

Being uncomfortable is
Similar to dying

So, kith,
Celebrate my passing off
In the gates of Surakarta

As he sighed
Passing card to his kinsmen
There were flowers in the shade
Unseen and unscented

Upon leaving that ground,
Each bud dried
For his death in
4 pianosenter

[Wed03022005: 11:02pm]
Here lies
The shriveled tetramorph.

(Gone are days worth
Speaking fondly over)

And like the Baphomet
Sung by Templars
Given to the grave,

Such creatures groan stiffly
When handed to the grey

I seek you out,
Fair Cherubim
Sate mine arms

Wrought from fleeten veins
Man grows tired
Fathers beget fathers,
Beget childhood
From harm.

Ye’ lucid flame,

I am the fabled
Burning boat
Nearing fabled Styx

Pure seraphim,

Know me by,
3 pianosenter

[Wed03022005: 07:04pm]
Release my plight
Return to me the mane
Rested hearts, sleep onward.
Dream into your grave.

[Wed03022005: 06:57pm]
Child born from the ghost bodies
A stepping man, known for his
Taste in other humans.

Finding one such as he
Neither ghost nor being
One is without gradual ease

I find hours unknown by any
But the child born of
A ghost body

Restless surfacing,
Tailoring time and place
In relation to whim

He knows, he
A thing not meant
To exist

He knows me, my friend
Alike the Ishmael
Leper, I have known you.

They step toward light
Shielding the pupil, sterile

This gang of folk kneel
Below the dust
Awaiting the unknown hour

[Tue03012005: 11:37pm]


Here where the torch-bearers

Passed their mantle

Unto a hay-bearer’s home


Set crooked flames down

Like the infant;

Pulled from the womb


Nascent, bending, rootless

Flowers of the urn,

Bloomed full- smearing day


Where below

Came the hounds with workers

Left the souls of these

unanswered furies.



may fate dwell without home.


[Tue03012005: 03:09pm]

Branches of man

Ripe in rain

In colour







I watched him raise his arms

Imagining that he

Knew more than I.



Over & over

As if to illustrate

Hidden passages




Solid stairs

Inside the wind


I knew him

Eight hours



He knew me nine.


11 pianosenter

[Mon02282005: 11:57pm]
There have always been
A pair of dogs at your side
Their eyes, full of passion
For you.
4 pianosenter

[Mon02282005: 10:44pm]
Breath that hurries day along
Winding us to spades
Weightless on & going
Image in her wake

Fair you go & off
West of Prague
The lilies blend
In chorus

We’ve greeted resolution
With a firm, weary gaze
In chorus
In a date planned ahead of time

I hand you my assumptions
Born to fold in slumber
Eyes pass eyes
There is rest enough for us both

Come lay your head in Prague
I will sing to you an air
Floating through the bright leaves
Heavy in despair

The lilies tune their grave-song
Go out beyond their shine
We let our clocks turn slowly
Winding us to spades.
24 pianosenter

[Sat02262005: 02:14am]
Harmonious bones
Decisive rings the marrow
Toward you I shift
The melody

Bones, harmonic carcass,
The white and chalky suite
A jingle lifts from skin
In vague & weightless volume

Jangled evening transfers
Thin lines retrieve our
Unheard & unmarked

Subscribe to my frequency
The obtuse pattern
Into bright cold light

Feathers in these dust bones
Across wet snow
Their crystals build beneath.
11 pianosenter

[Sat02262005: 02:12am]
There where soft light has
Pulled away revealing warmth
Light folding into light
Dust has gathered
‘Round a pair of quaking dogs

Shaking in their coupled ire
Foaming at the fronds

Delicate, almost microscopic strings
Must be plucked in certain orders
To elaborate in harmony
Spontaneous harmony: significant. Rare.

Here: folly of the families,
Huddled in their vibrant cones
Overcome by the weight
Of owning nothing.

Brow to brow, bone turns stony,
Sweat beads spun in cold
Contained in white environments
Walk breast-to-breast as drones

Handle yourself.
Require Augustus’ love,
It will be sent from above

Fan the fire, crooked, weeping

As he once said, above from us,
As he once folded down
To be a light within a light
A line within a point

There were beggars, chickens,
Scratching other birds, the seed,
Dust clouds, gray, limitless roads
Diesel trucks red with ignorance
Gathering in massive crowds
Outside the gates of Rome.

[Sat02262005: 02:09am]
Sturdy, infinite lines protrude from
Your weary dusk-eyed skeleton
Charcoal brow
A sweat once brown
Giggles its tiny interim
Felinity; Rome’s heavy mouth
Mountain red, the soil under
1 pianoenter

[Sat02262005: 02:07am]
There are veins born from fear.
(Veins to be torn from our limbs)

The desire for a quest
Has lent itself to the inanimate furies
The means to an end has presented itself
As one with flowers for another
Gently reaches toward that person
With kind, truthful eyes
And warm, shaking hands.

We reach for sake of inconsistency
What else is there to do?
Rereading the fine-print legalities
Retracing footprints in puddles
Desperately looking for a missed opportunity

The dilemma rests its head on this:
No moment was missed.
Not a feathered fraction of time
Left unannounced,
Carried of in a furious vein

Where inside of this equation
Rests solution?

Paradox within Pandora’s Box,
Remind this mind no more.
Decide to know the gentle
Blackened eyes of Truth

No volume of thought can reach
Beyond that timeless stare.

[Sat02262005: 02:07am]


Tambourine stilts- -

Pause - - - the summer-



Swept up …away

Gala stirs

The artic floe,

Atlas sleeps


“One eye


The brow”


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