Thursday, August 30, 2007

Old Wastes of Time IV

we began to believe

understand and separate these stranger days

these old wastes, wet stains of time

we rethought the patterns

rethought the words but remained the same

to tired to change

three eyeless gaze at the surrounding clouds

surrender to the love of crowds

our submission began the swift descent

How rightly concerned we were for future days

and never made it beyond the killing fields

all the professional words of the dying

we concerned ourselves with fractions of desire

a split second reenacted to stretch beyond life for the briefest of moments


and though we never heard the sound

or understood its true intention

the cracking shot rang loud and tumbling

as sanguine spilling spray hissed on cold November stone

steaming between the ghostly cracks

we gave the world

to hear the word

a limited engagement

to find life again

a hard thing to argue

a harder thing to hold....

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Old Wastes of Time III

filled with reflections you will not be alone

watched there from up on high

the three eyes see as five

slide on by....

far above owned far beyond


a realm of shattered sound fixed the coming night

to stalemate

the pains of departure

your crescent moon lights a crooked path

betrayed the easy way out

a crisp breeze blows through the dead dragging leaves

from those spying eyes

letting you go

freedom began as a single solitary wish

ended with a smirk

the starlight flickers

fixed to destroy

Monday, August 27, 2007

Old Wastes of Time II

Folklore, a woven tale

spun in reverse

to see an end written, stitched into a picture

simply put, we all live with what we did or didn't do

now this place, blindfolded and spinning you 'round

then splitting

two worlds as a whirling top

one far away filled with good

one far away filled with evil

wonder where you sleep these days?

all these slippery silvery memories...

frozen guilt evaporating while time faithfully dies

refusing to sink

you still pretend to swim with pockets full of change

waging a war screaming

not drowning

escaped the buildings

destroyed the 7th secret

6 more for the number

left for those who are lost.


Sunday, August 26, 2007

Old Wastes of Time I

A capable international first union

you felt it in your heart of hearts

despite all the car crash around you

all the unyielding tempered steel setback

despite the unending torrents of falling paper angels

shotgun sudden

looking removed and sucked dry

forcing this disintegration

employ your strategy of resignation

the sky glances over and bleeds dark night

A published confession

No more Lies

Friday, August 24, 2007

3 inches long 1 inch deep

tarnished scraping making irony

pleasantry whispering to moon moths


true waves armies line up to play

all against a corner, all that's left

darkness to hold stitching patchwork shadows

too much audience knocked back tracking moon beams

on the forest floor

the audience nervous wracking peeling eyes

single digit forced through the inside

nothing is preventing the faces marching in minds

tarnished scraping needle irony


dotting the cloudburst horizon

dripping sunlight sucking

these deteriorating films off the hushed grey town

that wanders within

and around the iris of your ash rimmed eyes

storm clouded eyes

six hands shake the room with dark drapes

where cat eyes glare green through the split shades

where the ice melts so slowly

when the moon submits it's reflection

in the gleaming dark iron phantoms

of a frozen firescape in December

where every breath of starlight

tucks us in

under a comforting canopy of midnight blue

where no north winds nuzzle up to you

there on the porch as you look out

with eyes ever searching

in the room where you made all these perfect

paper angels

Thursday, August 23, 2007


knee high is the swift green grass

the catering wind elusive in granting them

the time needed to taste it's sweet trails

as their efforts are hampered to piece together

those candy coloured moments from 10 years ago

her sisters smile to her looks exactly the same

and a dew splashed image appears

a single crippled lily sinking in a pond

shattered fragments of our entire magnificent




such passion for creating

a new north star now resides somewhere

in this hunched over haunted shell of a human

sitting on her heels with toes pointed inward

yet still gleaming with hope

one glowing coal

one more decade

all our miracles stay

on the planet that you made

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

There outside the trainscape

hanging high in the air standing silent

amidst all the variety of colored cloud cover

none come close to smothering the rising moon

holding its permanent victory in a cocoon of night winds

while we look away in different directions

on different shores

still we both stand sympathetically apart

on this rotating rock

while there where the driver sits

the dark glass projects reflections straight onto the tracks

while the firefly collective outside spreads trails

that wound the proud dark night

and heals the suicide skies

Saturday, August 18, 2007

phoenix twins

wandering eyes alone in all this empty air

green dreams curled up fetal and fluorescent

lazy horrors hover on the warmish breath of the night winds current

no point of orientation in this place

even though it took them days to reach

he hesitates to listen

to stretch out his ears

to listen for a voice

the crushed iron throat of a dead giant

still heaving

the sickening sound of all these hanging things

making dull contact with each other

hollow thuds

in absolute defiance

in slow anger

with bits still clinging there against the pole

moon like an impossibly healing scar in motion

there she rises wetly

slowly growing older

in the deepening tenor of night

the blackness thins then mists away

and whirls the dawn drowning hues

around her form

her canopy

her labyrinth

her sixty second sentiment

summer dress

reborn and beautiful

Friday, August 17, 2007

The Elk

And once it never mattered

And twice did I ever care

Three times were all it took

Four for lost wishes

Five twilight's I've lived through

Six senses, that's one too many...

Seven tried to hard

Eight, lost it all

when once upon a time they were happy

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Stone House

in disguise and walking through some far away hall of fame

on some rocky shore

all that dried paint ruined your brushes

from here on high dances the scattering crow winds

from here on high we're slightly hypnotized

by the confusing waves crashing coldly

on December beach

from here on out watching single gulls

erasing a path through the darkening skies

while those who moved away witnessed

blasted brushstrokes of cloud from vicious railways

mountains removed from cloud cover

send formations of birds westward to contradict the rain

from here on high the memory you hold

some sweet childhood together we missed

barely there

you concentrated on unclenching your hands

to cast a stone into that cold crashing spray

wanting to shake that forbidden fruit from your hair

to taste our time with all your broken arrows

planting flowers on that rocky shore

a refuge of orchids now grow there these days

petals kissing the ground

all whilst breathing in the familiar scent

of her razor winter

she is coming

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

An Anchor

The second Summer's haze shimmers grey

regrets its passage to the sea

calling all comforts to closed blinds

soothing mint winds disinfects the bleeding horizon

faded like the painted red roses rusting on her shoes

transparent though her ghost glows softly upon hearing the right chords

she wraps herself in all his healing sorrows

to catch the faint scent of their last week by the sea

(I couldn't ever bear to capture these moments in focus)

finally having to acknowledge that nest had begun to unravel

10 tempting days drifting by so slowly

just waiting to hear one simple word

never once uttered


Tuesday, August 14, 2007


Arch your crane like neck

there by the fire escape

while delicate night shimmers around a rooftop garden in November

the soft smell of garlic in the air

high above these wanting black buildings

where you learned to walk again

peeking down at the movement

these moments so slight

from up on high, away from all the soulless car crash

and sarcastic footfall

tired patterns of compliance

wind whipped hair

kissing the frosted iron bars with your face pressed between them

a perfect frozen flower

as an observer

as a single snowflake descends

for something you loved so intensely

then discarded so suddenly

Friday, August 10, 2007


I needed some kind of seeking vision

to compete with the power

of your naked shadow castaway

forgotten mementos, Arctic waters

our time as a sinking ship

your picture on the wall

the small spaces between the falling rain

came together to form your smile today

since then and ever after

on every overcast glorious grey day

there is a reason to rejoice

Thursday, August 9, 2007



said six clouds closing in

while perched there pretending

everything assumed was part of this

faint lights brush across your lost lips

the sea breeze sends grains of salted sand

while bending moonbeams stretching their fingers

watching little orange lights wink in the distance

trying to tend to this laughing garden of stars

blaming the morning breeze

for undressing our inspiration

and all the love shining there in your satellite smile

while presently the moon rises

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

last dance

It would be untruthful

to say that it felt like a waste of time

dual echos tethered to the cold fleeting foolish shore

this is how it looks from 3 stories high

this is 1 week of isolation in the rain fields

this is one more guarded glimpse of you

transparent dancing on red cliffs

where most forward progression needs dawns permission

it was there that all six senses broke

while beams of sunlight retired on your shoulders

the eastern wind blew all around you

tempered by the inertia of your steps

in twice time of the crashing surf

throwing exploding white floral bouquets of salt

up over your auburn hair at random angles

I just watched

as the day crept away

and sunset on your last dance at Hammond castle

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Dawn Losing Ground

restricted to amber

your battery now near empty

most survivors of history take up other ways to kill time

erratic butterfly flight leaving trails of orange and black

against the cloudless burning blue sky

pulled your cool cold heart toward me

gave it a squeeze and sent searchlights

to run alongside your new dreams

I tasted the unmistakable sweetness of your ghostly neon breeze

felt the tender pink tip of breaking dawn even with closed eyes

heard the four chords of hazy summer wind from another country

watched it lift and row through the faint Autumn ground where we first lay as one

grave silent


and ending

happy on different paths

for finally embracing our nature

and smashing black buildings

to set each other free at last

gathering up translucent petals of memory

that fall softly with feline grace

around the sweetest cords of memory

a tribute to you

Monday, August 6, 2007


A hundred winters of decay

she's wondering if she'll be able to hold it together

for another 4 seasons

a cold haunted locker room

she's waiting at the station for sanctuary

holding open an umbrella in a padded room

while out there in the pushing plains

every explosion of the barrel

sends steel slamming souls spitting crystal fires

like a blooming orchid

agreeing in cold convulsions, losing limbs to razor winters cruelty

distant and empty cracks show through her mirror

a mystery like true carnage

cracking glass snapping large pieces of memory to cinder

and dust

breaking into asphyxiating latent mad rambling

no longer does protection exist

from all her romantic torturous notions...

Saturday, August 4, 2007


with baby steps and with the lights off

carefully navigating the treacherous minefield of memory

stumbling around in the dark grasping for color

something substantial, tactile and solid...

she lives there on the elusive crests of the dreaming

so often in frozen moments of black and white

reclining on a cold stone there in a clearing

she's stretched in mimicry of our future

painted black lines on her face

to blend in with the thin chill


early November branchscape

breaking away as filtered starlight surrenders

to the inevitable dawn

Friday, August 3, 2007


dressed there in the daily colors

all her hues becoming a bright smudged blur

making contact on the platform


watching the trails your waving hand makes

every heavy moment of movement in slow motion

a tempest

and time moves on for us

and all manner of wanting back our sweetest memories

remains refracted light

through our stained glass recollections

Thursday, August 2, 2007

the azure empire

so splintered this well

reflects stuttering

and shuddering, shouting out

at an unrecognizable reflection

ever dreaming a still surface

ever catching the glare

a subsiding shower

under a dusking sky

a halo of dreams

that circle around the last grasp of a flexing tree

perplexing the ages

pressed against the rich bark

founded with consumption, often of an unknowable entity

striving for remembrance

and longing for a glimpse

of your swirling skirts in slow motion

dancing there on the red rocks

above the defeated winter seas

Wednesday, August 1, 2007


Somewhere in a city

Black buildings separate and surround us

Somewhere I imagine you

We display sinking ocean eyes

Somewhere in a city

A crowds drowning smile

Somewhere I imagine you

Black trees cut the passing mist

Somewhere in a city

We stay in silence

Somewhere I imagine you

unforgiven, oblivious and unresolved

Somewhere in a city

Dark black buildings entrapping

Somewhere I imagine you

without wings we wait for amber days

Somewhere in a city

ever upwards, this steady fixed gaze

And somewhere I imagine you....

somewhere in the sky