Love, or the weariness of fossils

i’m not obsessed

i’m simply enthralled

bowled over and heart akimbo

a life in limbo

forever and a moment at once

that night i lifted you

like moonlight into my life

and i’ve spent years

bathing in that blueness

naked and scared to flinch or move

for fear it would expire

i’m not depressed

i’m just tired

tired from loving you

that’s all to say

you pushed me into the ground

embossed by your love

into the hallowed mud

of history

bound into a 

stony forever

a mark upon the soul

or a flitting light

bursting into the heavens

crushed into stardust

a brief burst of flame

in an endless night

the rapture of your entirety

now living in my blood

and oil

a root into my soil

i will hold you

longer

than the 

earth

held the 

dinosaurs

Door

​There is a door

down a long

white

hallway

lilting ghosts

of linen 

lights

in line

leading lights

from above

drowning

dreamy

down

the long white hall

fits like a glove

down

to the dark door

that waits

for you

infinitely

or until the time

comes

whichever

is

sooner

and we all have

a door

and 

a hall

with white

walls

waiting

and

there

are all of my

creatures

the ones that

have gone

ahead

before

me

and wait

in the white

light

for me

to follow

reunited

again

a brief moment

​A brief moment

a flash in my eye and

for a moment

i pause

a lone man staring

from the cold window

of the factory bathroom

late night

snowing

blustering across

the empty lot below

by the graveyard

a car spins through

 the whitewashed pavement

under the lights

and slides in next to another

the lonely car

in the lot

by the graveyard

they sit in silences

these two cars

one of red

and one of blue

so it feels like you

but seems like two

a lovers tryst?

a night cap capped

or old friends

a day trip

and a stashed device

to get one home…

all alone

in the lot beside the graveyard

Sometimes you have to stop

and take in

life

in the

moment

my reflection

also watching itself

in the glass

watching

the empty lot

by the graveyard

a moment cast

in looking glass

a frozen lake

a freezing evening

they called for a storm watch

but mine were 

already here

lately

I am burning

from loss

and failure

failing health

and failing flailing

that writhes

while falling

i’ve never been this close

to the sharp edge calling

and i work with tools

every day

but not this way

a brief repose

a heart not beating

skipping from the 

longing

for a friends soft breathing

that timed with his

each night and day

now gone away

(in the dark

all cats are grey

but he was not)

Now this parking lot

that rests by graveyard

and i am frozen

in this mundane

ask me not

for what i am grieving

just know that love

has gone away

if in the dark

my hopelessnedd breeding

should grow to monsters

so i’d stay away

i’m in the woods

you cannot reach me

i’m in a moment

i’m in the grey

it won’t be long

for life keeps beating

my footsteps will echo 

the path again

but for a moment

i am frozen 

and the storm watch 

comes to fruition

and i can not come out to play

i’m in my feelings

i’m in this darkness

i’m watching strangers

from the distance

by the graveyard

i’m not here

i’m

not ok

grief is sometimes brief

but sometimes lasts forever

and it hits me like a feather

i will never get over this

lovers / embers / glow

I fell asleep and had a dream
and we were in the old place
the same old place and you had the same old face
wind was knocking knocking loud outside
but it was the same old ride
phone rang and no place to hide
you seemd much better
and i felt much better
but we slide slide slide
and make promises and
promises on fresh kissed lips
until we die
red lips in the static bleached out
wasteland
of the white sheets
in the white room
in the snowscaped windows
evergreen all topped and icy
and the bed in empty room
an empty fireplace staring out
in hopes for fire soon
in hopes the fire is burning
somewhere deep inside the room
but cold bricks sit there smokeless
and the people lay in rest
two people are their memories
two people lie a mess
a mess of married loving
a mess of cords and blood
the heartways cables pumping
entwined with hers in love
a twisted knot of bodies
that find they are in love
but love is cold chains wrapped up
around a worried cage
and i found i was the jester
caught in the acts that bind
that thought we were star crossed lovers
dripping blood all over time
and you hid inside the storied closet
and i was waiting on the line
it was set inside the bedroom
or perhaps cathedral of the flea
cold and snowy
pure and light for miles
flowing curtains
by empty bedsheets
and the little drops of blood
that foretold of how we ended
in the bruised and bloodied flood
like we found ourselves inside a movie
where all the heroes die
but there really are no heroes
just people flawed to the core
and silently wanting so much more
and finding life a bore
until a technicolor nightmare
flashed onto the screen
and the difference is astounding
and the scenery serene
and its deeply crazed and torrid
tho it feels just like a dream
but everything is real about this now
standing in my frozen sweat
there is bright beyond the picture
and running
running
from the threat
And your hair is wet
with something
water tears or mud
or maybe fright and fear and blood
or maybe it’s just tuesday night
and you’re lying in your bed
right next to your sweet lover
with a fever in your head
and you’re thinking of old partners
and your thoughts are soaked in dream
to awaken from the dreamscape
where everything is big
and boldly like the movies
but here instead
a calm
that
lasts
forever
and a 
silence
that 
truly
screams
two people
growing older
drowning in the house
with the cat that sleeps in corners
waiting for the moment
he
pounces
on
a 
mouse
Once again a lion
standing over a fresh kill
after life is still
its still living
in the
quiet
silent

chill

bees/amber

I swear your love is like candy

Amber glean within your eyes

And a sleepy waning mixture

Of your loving and your lies

Like a symphony of cries

I am not prepared to hold you 

Or the amber in your eyes

Ive got a wax cap over me

Now I am the honey

Waiting on the bees

Waiting on the world

To devour me

Fermented and dripping

From all this time

In the sweet crystal slime

Missing all of mine

Missing all of mine

And she cracks like

Hard candy

Tossing on the tongue

In love but on the run

And she is inside of me

In on in on in

On in on in on in 

Look

She splits wide open

Just like the pages of a book

And I slept real soundly

Through all of the time it took

And now I’m hooked

And she’s addicted to the honey

So my goose is cooked

She peeled back the wax cap

And took a taste and took a look

Honey drips like syrup

On a hot summer day

In the winter it’s molasses

Won’t come out to play

Without a lot of pressure

Better if it stays

In the Honeycomb

In the Honeycomb

In this sticky home

All alone

In the honeycomb

Where it lays

And you are

A beautiful vision

Through the amber glassy case

But I am turning ugly

drifting away

Inside this place

Afloat In this concoction

I am changing

As my nectar melts  away

And I’m feeling drunk and different

Theres a darkness that has stayed

Floating in the honey

My love just melts away

Suspended in the honey

There is a darkness that has stayed

But that’s all ok

It’s easier this way

And if the bees have a short winter

I may be spared from my demise

And I’ll be brewing into flavors

Of the aged and the wise

Inside

Behind the wax cap

Where I’m changing

Maybe then I’ll be deserving

Of the amber in your eyes…

inertia, beat

quiet again

and darkness pulled

around like a too-heavy

blanket

bearing down on feet

to burden ankles

and make me 

painfully aware

of my breathing

in

and then

out

and repeat

sometimes life is a

tempered

cage

or feels like

one

at

least

cold bars and no where

to hide

yet a monotone

dripping

of time

echoes in the air

like the aware dreamer

or the cinematic ear-drums

after an explosion

i wish i were weightless

suspended in the river

but it is winter still

and canons of summer

sit snowed over

and still

and i am here without

the

will

to make my

moves

just a box of

sad clown makeup

bottom of a trunk

in a dusty hall closet

forgotten

for years

inertia slithers like

a serpent

on a deluge of

intentions,

the plans,

the list

the procrastination

of weariness

and fear

what once was conqueror

now is conquered

and tired

the white flag of

the worn out soldier

just older now

and down

like a sheet on the

ground

low

and licking wounds

that have long

since healed

but they

feel

so real

quiet again

and the darkness 

pulls down

like a too-heavy sheet

on the man

where the heart

and the gravel

meet

what once 

was

strong

is now

inertia,

beat

Seven. Thirty. Two.

i waken into darkness

like the shadow line on the shoulder

of a young blond girl

tanned

a single page

and the pounding heart

thump,

thump

let me up

i cannot justly  

hold on here

anymore

i am mean,

a terrible sorrow

of nothing

a hiding place of distant radios

through thin walls

in the mindfulness

of experience

gained from favorites

alone

adrift

while what i do

rests,

undone

undone again

with a sigh

happy birthday

motherfucker

like 

a casual fuck

with a stranger

pointless

celebratory

a species

approaching

sweeping 

extinction

of the mind

the mind rests

but for the subtle

electric tick

of a small thing begging to

come alive

and twitching to be larger

than life

like the morning

coffee

fixes 

the sadness

an unending balm

to soothe from the world

a 

small

feeling

to distract

from terror

like slapping your leg

to soothe a bee sting to

the shoulder;

fuck this,

she came

to see me

so i'm out....

a lucky boy

and she in this

bold yellow dress

holding a tray of 

tapas at a party

she is wet and

looking at 

the man in

the corner

she is my artistic drive

sick of the boring

slumber

of daily distractions

succumbing to work

again

but there is a wild world out there

and i want to

taste

and feel

and fuck!

i want to wake up 

from this slumber

good

morning

good

morning

sleepy head

a birthday present

because you inspire

wake up!

remember

it's tuesday morning

a time for skin to

rise to meet me

it's tuesday morning

and for fuck's sake

i am still here...

.

..

it's

7:32

and you are a pile

of ragged clothes

strewn on occupation

stripped and tangled

in the cotton

in the infuriating

golden sunlight

you are lucid

and i am gripping

reality

with a (spoon) a firm

hand

you could feel

that

it's true

and

it's 7:32

lover,

where

are

you?