Friday, July 05, 2024

 Fabled Unicorn / oil / wood board / 12.5 x 14 inches

Wednesday, July 03, 2024


message received / oil, charcoal, chalk / canvas diptych / 27.5 × 83 inch

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

june 4th 3rd year of geminis

 The pennant 6.7.24  The beach the salty air the perfect vibe living in mansions by the bay and shore. I am brining? I care so much just about how awesome i feel being here. On vacation with family and friends. This bar is all creaky and old and where people watch baseball and drink beers and families eat lunch during the day. Mission drag is fun and alive. The coast over and over again like the waves. People come and go. The homeless crack jokes and move on. Theres music like guitars and blues and rock and jazz and bass. People eat tacos next door under what doesnt quite feel like ordinary streetlight. Theres alley mazes and close parking. The days are endless. I love san diego.

Wednesday, May 08, 2024

wandering like a lost lost

 life like nature

beautiful women hear it all the time,

how beautiful they are,

words so overhwhelming,

that silence beats sound,

eyes communicate best;

yeah hey, curving in ways that utterly

seduce, breaking all moments

moments of agony,

there was the tale of the contest,

between sun and wind, "where

the outcome proves that our nature's

win". I am so utterly human it hurts,

so grateful and yet so hungry,

we all know apology and yet find it,

so difficult, we and all, we and all,

still looking for what it all means.


I think im a tree,

Growing tall and strong,

And old and burled,

I think i offer solace,

A respite from the wear,

I think i offer shade from truth,

I am still, I sway but do not falter,

I am to be very trusted as to what i am,

And people can gather, i am shelter.


this is glorious,

ragged raging unraveling unspoken,

a thread giving way to dissarray,

look closely,

sometimes the eye catches things unseen,

all the distances crossing till

lastness ends, and conjunctions

keep it together.


Wednesday, May 01, 2024

i am aquisce

hey hey we don't know

who we will be

who we are

life and summer blossoms

beautiful by the water

blooms and bees,

lunch forgotten by some crisis.

So many past lives ago just a guy carrying

A queen's treasure; heavy marble visages

Black lace meetings

Behind the supple wooden doors

Bloody rituals, babylon, fashion, pleasure;

The gates of lapis, an ocean spills vertical for the honored conquerors.

Where spoken from mouth to mouth

Offering elysium.

why not say?

 sometimes i see it like this;

the hungriest thing, the universe;

an infinite mouth, 

of infinite teeth,

my little life just a tiny mote,

even smaller still,

an unseen breath, when its not quite chill,

but alive i am, slowly still dissolving,

a folded thing unfolding,

another midnight snack from

the perspective of stars and time and space.

Monday, March 18, 2024

tremulous notes

 a kind of noble rot,

the wormwood works

winding wordlessly

thru the ear,

in a cellar deep,

deeper below,

the wild promises

passion beckoning,

so so so quiet, lips like ever slowly licking,

like this...we like it, we do.

Hidden meetings, deepest farther,

a kind of choice is made, for all the others.

Finally, the wine is popped

the dress lingers in the shadows

tomorrow floating on some rack.

A contrast landscape

every green imaginable,

the perfect space and distribution of life.

a kind of beautiful thing,

a kind of harmonious sound,

a kind of idyllic course,

a kind of bio bless;

i am wound wordless

stricken and lovely now.

silent prayer

 i know i know

tomorrow comes again;

I am i am, tomorrow

unless no, more, now.

All else, less us, all us

But again; i am i am

tomorrow no more.

All else less us fail, fail.

Beyond tomorrow

Forever yesterday, today.

Friday, February 09, 2024

after the rain

in the desert a natural puddle forms from the rare rain, and all the living know this represents the ability to survive until the next one.

birds will bathe in the winter morning

as the sun breaks through the clouds

that are blown by dry wind and sky.

this momentary oasis can be nestled in the shadow of some ancient carved out cliff,

rocks that remember they were once submerged.

some weird root, clawing and clasping across the craggy land

inches slowly forward to sip.

in the end it will be the leftover stuff

from everything that had drank and touched and played,

perhaps down close, as close as possible, one could hear the last drop

evaporate away.