Will I dream tonight

And swim with her

The one who smiles back

Or rest

In peaceful deathlike rest?

Driving home can be fun

When the sky is blue-red.

Run

From reality

Soar

Into the colors.

Enamored by your face,

I want to know if I would die

If I took a step closer

Because from where I stand

My body glows with fiery heat

That vibrates and burns and rocks my chest and

inflames and blinds my vision.

Would these feelings

Grow and burst

And would I die

If one step nearer?

Am I discontent?

Do my constant flights

And consequent constant falls

Only damage

As my head rubs against gravel,

Or do I know pleasure?

Is a seat and buttons pleasure?

Do I live in a ruse

A disguise, to which one day

I’ll open my eyes

And see

That I wasted hours and

Days and

Years and,

Without living,

Died.

Respite rest nice el sueño de la razón,

Slumbering silent calming breaths,

I enjoy the embrace of your cooing somnolent breasts.

Ah, wispy pillows and eiderdown sheets—

Envelope me like shady willows and warm grassy peat

on mid-noon among sprigs of sweet sugar-scented valerian!

I’ll sip the nectar of eternity

As I lay among the clouds,

And know that I have always sleep

As respite from waking reason

That always produce monstruous.

firefire

Youthful adventure turned searing hot-faced dry throat burning
campfire now field fire smoky eye-burning field fire.
Run from the flames tell the others but hide your name.

Dreary-eyed too-little-slept student
assembles bag and head bent leaves room.
He returns that afternoon to drapes black,
ash on soaked bed
soggy floor wasted sodden papers
and a notice of fire from forgotten candle on the door.

I'm glad to escape the flames and continue life,
but eventually fire may spread to limbs
brief bright immolation pain out with the lights.
I escaped
but death seems always to have me by the nape.

a fine fella

Your tattooed face does not belie,

Nor knife wound across cheek overshadow,

Your dimpled smile.

Your incoherent words

Or short explicit lyricism

Do not besmirch your enthusiasm.

You plan to strip tease

Pan-handle for girlfriends on Broadway

And teach kindergarten

Where full spectrum of colors and races bring wonder

And all children participate together.

You’ve been hurt by others

Been to prison

Know the real gangsters

Know the underground livin’;

But yet, when she grabbed your pants

And pulled them up

You complained about assault

Rather than give way to aggression.

Your tattoos and battle-scars

Do not make you seem lifeless.

You’re on your guard, but nevertheless

You see life’s beauty

And I’ve seen you laugh eternal.

skimming across the surface shallow shallow shallow thoughtless

Thistle between teeth,

I smile absent-mindedly

With one hand on wheel

And the other hanging from window.

Past dark green  tree-bushes and savanna grasses

On sloping hills I climb.

A lake bright with blue sky shimmers far below.

It is all very nice, I think,

And glance again at the road.

I pass over the hill-top

And see ocean bright with blue sky

That shimmers—

But I thought Inevermind—

And I smile

Absent-mindedly

As again I drive this route.

thoughts from uni days

amateur short story from just after first uni year... but hey, all of my stuff is pretty amateur and this is short and sweet.---

A body lay on the floor. Its skin was pale, lips parted and eyes halfway open. Its clothes were dirty like the ground around it. There was no blood. Fast footsteps approached. A young man entered and a young woman followed him.

                The woman stopped and shouted between pants. The man stopped and looked at her.

                “What?” He said.

                “Look. A body.” She began to approach.

                “Stop, don’t touch it.”

                “Is he dead?” She stood like a statue and her eyes were sad.

                “I think so.” He walked past her and squatted beside it. He eyed it closely. “It’s dead.” He stood and looked at her. “We need to keep going.”

                “We can’t leave him here.” Her gaze didn’t leave the body.

                “We can’t do anything. It’s dead. We need to go.” He began to walk.

                She didn’t move. Her eyes were attached to the body. Her lips were parted and her cheeks white and her eyes still sad.

                He stopped and looked behind at her. “We need to go. I’m going. You can bury it or carry it but you’ll fall behind. It already lost. If we don’t keep going, we’ll lose too.”

                She looked at him. Her eyes were cold and when she spoke her voice faltered. “You’re insensitive. You can’t be human.”

                “Are you coming?”

                “Yes.”

                They both began to walk. She stopped.

                “You don’t know where you’re going, do you?”

                He stopped and looked at the ground. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pulled hard. “Come on, we need to hurry.”

                They both ran.

Unshaved bristled face cigarette between both lips

In fake silk bath robe and creaking rocking chair near sturdy walking stick he sat

Back and forth forward and backward trail of smoke rose from nostrils and lips

Chair creaked to tune of blueberry hill

But mind listened to beating of heart and rasping of throat

He scratched his face and grimaced because it’s not too long now

Back on bed he’ll soon be dead priest above

Bombarding hellfire speech

The blood seethes and boils why did you not give up that lewd that impure

Oh, thought he, I could have lived and loved

If this growth didn’t spread like warm yeast and flour rising bread

Clicking clacking heart against black bones

Tip tap my cane as creak crack back I stand

Back hurts groan escapes mouth

Ashes fall to floor

Click tap face slap—tired

But awake enough

Its just a trifle

A small thing

To go into the closet, behind the coats

Load and then press finger

I won’t even hear the click of the rifle

--------------

joyce helped with hellfire, one line is his

i dont mind smoking, do it myself time to time

he was probably just old and sad

Cheer up buttercup she said and he smiled

Buttercup cheer up buttercup cup of butter be happy

He smiled because she jokingly made him small

Buttercup small sad buttercup cheer up buttercup

She's cool, big, not a buttercup but a cheerer of cups of butter--

Maybe someday she’ll grin at me and call me buttercup and I’ll cheer up.

Terrible day, no use trying

To repair lost time with smiles

Nothing fulfilling, all superfluous

I skirted across the wakes

A bouncing oblivious blundering stone

Skipping prancing oh-so happy to speak

And pass the time

Thought Comforts

Blunt stones and shattered glass of anxiety

That grind and crack will

And lacerate comforting plush of calm

Disembowel.

That brisk wind of rolling thoughts

That seamlessly translates into words

Soothing, smiles—

Emit word, laughter!—

Torn, confused, made introspect

With thoughts racing, breaking

Oh youdon’t thinkIdidn’t mean

Clashmisunderstand heat willshehe notheydont

Understand!

Dedalus epiphanied in confession box.

Perhaps if I realize that life flows, progresses;

Admit to myself that the past has just happened,

I can smile at any halts or recesses

And see conversation’s wonder:

When an idea comes to mind

And you say and I say

And thoughts connect and words roll

In a constant, present, unceasing flow.

I do not know confession box,

But when turbulent in mind

I like to walk to the source

Where the spring gurgles upwards

And present is present and the past has flown past.

Pain is irrelevant

But when chronic

At times hard to ignore

But pain is irrelevant

If I think better thoughts

I won’t notice that this movement hurts

Or that accidental push pricked

No, pain is not irrelevant

When real, it is present

Entirely relevant

But to experience past pain

Even while in pain

And break through to pleasure,

Happiness

Joy, bliss.

Ah, to break through.

Wellspring of energy.

Source; projector of vibrations:

Warm, trilling, ecstatic.

If I could draw nearer

And my skin not melt

Step closer

And lungs not burn

If words were not mistakes, mud

Then this husk would fill

With devotion for you—wellspring.

again

Barebellied sweaty rednosed stumbler

In the next room over

Through the partition I hear

slobbering hcupn groan bel chstumbling

ihave to pretend I love you everyday

hcupglad we’re clearihate

and he shambles away

back to his den

where he sleeps and forgets

----

Shackles, shackles

Arguing a point I don’t believe

Inspiration falling like dry leaves

Cracking, crunching

Underfoot of indifferent passerby

Unmitigatedhatefrommydryeyes

Love, love

With burning passion

The cold chain that fastens

----

Infernal

Inside this feeling, fiery

Spurns me towards that

Not yet grasped

The undiscovered

Beautiful—already, to an extent

At hand—but further, deeper

All feelings

I need to feel fiery eternal