he was wearing white
his shirt was that color
so it stood out
on the night time street
still busy glowing tungsten
tacky store fronts
endless red car lights
all a blur
all too many of them
will there ever be an end?


one day you slipped
the strap broke
they thought you were playing a trick
if only you could lie to them
you could if you acted enough
the gashes are red
when will they be theirs
think I'm joking


dry and scaly
cracking like paper
dead listless eyes staring at you
not staring
there beyond and at nothing
it's the worst thing
really the worst
the walls are smeared with red
looks like it could be but it isn't
isn't real isn't something real it's based on
there was a doll in the crib
eyes staring out blue eyes, same blue same way
you spun around seeming endless
in the basement and on the driveway
someone should have told you something

you don't have energy to hate
what good would it do?
or to become enemies
all a rock that fell
you really are scraped
this way and that way

I'm dry, dried out and spent
once I had it
once the waves lifted me up
dropped me down
and it's sad
the red ants and worms eat you alive
and you become a nasty cliche


is it too much energy to hate? what is hate?
you are dried out like a rag
you are scraped raw
once they were there
a face, face becomes a mask
they walked this place a million others did there
before them
a bag of white
a salty ride
there were one too many

days

Ah why. Meant to say whiny whiny. I suppose it could have been much worse. all the insanity, people's egos and anger. I reall need to just be a hermit. I am grateful now for the dark and to be alone and the quiet, although it doesn't feel like I'm alone. I feel like there are people all around me. I just feel like I'm not alone. How do I know I'm not being watched? Because I AM being watched. I have almost no privacy and I am a very private person and not having that is going to make a wreck of me. If the theme is endings then yes certain things must end. I was earlier very angry. It was a last attempt maybe at having any control over my own life and not be someone else's marionette.

ok

I took one post down just because well yes it was somewhat whiny and negative. I'll leave the obvious unsaid is all.

On the up side, the view from my window is beautiful.....big polar bear green trees!

A tarot card fell on the floor the Nine of Cups it turned out to be. Pretty pretty cool.

more KLF

KLF AMERICA WHAT TIME IS LOVE


Yes I am obsessed with them. Just my opinion of course: but they were so much more creative original and brilliant then so many of those whiny 90s "Grunge" (he hm whisper Pearl Jam) who came up when I did a youtube "Jams" search......

वास

इ

fluid

that is what it feels like. maybe it's beeswax candles. I feel like I'm in some kind of weird sticky sweet something. this fucking computer keeps crashing. My "c" key is screwed up so I have to pound it to get it on the screen. Better now. Had a rough weekend. Don't get me started on the dog. I love her I love animals but it's very exhausting caring for her. I took her to the park at horrendous hour of 7:30 AM and bumped chests with all the other locals some of whom gave me advice ect. Got her earlier some gluco something biscuits from the healthy pet place. Ironic that as rents go up so does the availability of all this eco-correct stuff. I really need a regular sleep and not having to endlessly trek up and down stairs. Exercise yes but I'm very weary of it.

Birthday Poem Revised

so next version: of the dad one


there and there
he laughed
he smiled
did I confuse you? he said
any way is right
if you don't know which way


burn low burn high
3am can't sleep
I should have more money
I shouldn't have asked
there's a broom and it's waiting for him
things were blurry
and you should have waited for him

I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning, burning high


she's wearing black and
dust forms around her

the snow is white
the silver is bright
the snow is white
silver is bright
black is dark and white is light

I'm an elf and I've fallen from a star
he said, she said
does it really matter?



I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning burning high

my dress is ruined
and it was nearly perfect
a near perfect blue
me and you


the shoes are red
and I saw a face
a hideous face
I dreamt of a church but it was evil
and I couldn't get out
the grey was the color of tombs
outside the windows
there was so much green
so much and everything

how far, how far do we go?
before we're back to where we started
there's yellow and it's a fierce yellow
my shoes are red
so bright I have to shut my eyes
all the reflections, a pin piercing
dazzling light
shoes are red
there was another, another formed again

did some one commit

there was grey
too much of it
a skull and cross bones
dust of a tombstone
dirt from a killer's grave
head of snake
head of an ant
teeth of a rat
too much of that
too much of it

there was blood on the walls
too much of it
doubles here and everywhere
everyone has a shadow side
house in Michigan
the worst, the boonies and hicks
the despised people
walking like zombies

maybe there

speaking of

"Economics 202" I know that I've fucked up with money issues not for lack of trying to work them out....but it happened. I would like to know the reason but I attribute it to.....mass confusion. So I'm working on wiping the window clean.

things

intense conversation with someone last night. I suppose I do feel a guilt or sensitivity over some things. Other things when writing I don't want to face. with great love great things come great responsibility.

on a lighter note, since I'm in a creative mode, I'll put down some of my other favorite writers. I actually, randomly.....cause in my neighborhood people leave clothes, books and shoes out on stoops if they dont want them, so if someone else does they just pick them up. Or they have stoop sales. People leave books out, and about 85 percent of them are things that "most" people wouldn't be dying to read, like "Economics 202" 4th Edition from 1978. But sometimes.....well after seeing a few of those types of books, I found Jack Kerouac's "On the Road." That's the Beat Generation classic, the 1950s version of punk, or Williamsburg....and not the kind of thing I'd first want. But I decided to take it and I'm reading it now. I'm only at the beginning. It's similar to Henry Miller but a couple generations later. I must be in a 50s mode...for such a crazily repressed time there was some amazing art, literature and music. I was reading "In Cold Blood" til I left the stupid thing at a friend's place. Yes, I need to buy another copy.

faces faces are staring at me

so many yellows
oh the love and it's real
love and it's real
the yellows are bright
so is all this light
all this light so much of it
this light this one oh only this one \\


it was om om and ominy
all this and she is teirs
thiers and not his
theirs and never his
all of theirs and never his

Happy Birthday Dad!

there and there
he laughed
smiling smiles again
did I confuse you? he said

burn low burn high

3am can't sleep
I should have more money
I shouldn't have asked
there's a broom and it's waiting for him
things were blurry
and you should have waited for him

I'm on a horse and it's white
there's a flame burning, burning high


she's wearing black and
dust forms around her

the snow is white

the silver is bright
the snow is white
silver is bright
black is dark and white is light

I'm an elf and I've fallen from a star
he said, she said
does it really matter?

I'm on a horse and it's white

there's a flame burning burning high

my dress is ruined
and it was nearly perfect
a near perfect blue
me and you

bubbles will soothe

me and you

point the way

any way is right

heaven or hell

any way

if you have the means

the shoes are red

the plate is silver

in winter it's all hidden

how far can you climb?

it is

absolutely beautiful. cool wet splashes, pink sky, gentle wind......unreal. kid stuff. but it is real. it is real. the trees are huge and magestic, outside my window. yes blessed indeed! jewels of pink, gorgeous. there was a reason I stayed here and up....if only to see this!

now

it's 5 am raining in spades and very beautiful. small beeluminiation candles almost spent. gorgeous. if only you could see it. rainforest rain. all sweaty and drunk. i miss my dear absent friends distance does not mean I love you any less or that you mean any less to me. less often is more precious. sadly, that makes necessity for other things. all that, wet love. wet love. wet love. lots. lots

rain wind

don't know who it is
don't know who it is
rain on my forehead
it's 5 am
too late and too early
am I spoiled?
it's late and raining
late and raining
my windows blurry
for hours I've been watching
tree branches moving this way that way
like underwater
what is it no one knows
what is it who will know
it is beautiful
they didn't say how much it would be
why am I the only one to see it?
someone else is there
someone else is there
but they're not here in this room
someone is there
but not here
only my cat his quiet breathing
chest rises and falls
i feel it the wind through my heart too