bushido / mixed media / canvas

holding fire,
is holding a twisting hope
that's a garment for my heart
where time doesn't swallow
what i do,
dying flames held by surrendered souls
they cry in anguish
as the meaning flies

away,

it didn't burn all up
but was swept by force
humanitys' polluted breath
on their flame
it couldn't breathe, and
passed

away,

my god in one instant
everything can shift
& us put at loss
in time with perishing thoughts
and far is the platter joy

when we run
its to that, and that alone
for the night, which tells the truth
for the day, which starts the truth
the crash
your look
embers in old hands
with young eyes

keep on giving up
to the motions
of life

remorse / mixed media / canvas

Brigand / mixed media / canvas

our arrival

to this

quandary

lithe and snared

this heart

it waits patiently

in quiet

pain

it hears about

how it will die

from the hands

of what it waits for;

broken in little pieces

like stabbing chest pains

a mind forgotten in sleep

& asunder

all is this

thing battered

tanned hide from sunlight in

that forgotten corner

broken dishes, and noise

wading through our silent moments

to sound

cherished.

hey.

what are you thinking about,
leaning against the wall
smoking a cig
with your face
half / down,
where's your lover
& your friends,
what's that sadness
across your face
what's with this party
stranger faces all around
caught glimpse of you looking
at the corner stranger
they're probably just as lonely
probably in as much
dire needs
as you;
leaning against that call
waiting for
the miracle:
of An introduction
of a joke
of laughter
of a touch
buying each other drinks
'till the band stops
kissing under lamplights
& naked snoring
& sun's rays

Esplanade / mixed media / canvas

this naked dream
this eye shut as bodies meet
the curve of back
where my hand rests
sun made softer
as her hair splashes on
the pillow,
our obsession with smiling
and lips pursed in desirous sighs,
why;
the model line
in a birdcage
necklace pulled to make
her cry sexy eyes
where we meet on a brick path
dancing in the night,
drunk on pity
which shatters with your kiss
the bridge
cracks
running from this
naked dream
where beauty
lies next to me
when it sleeps.

i am afraid of losing things,

a moment of silence

for the wonderful



cause i pick fights

with what i'm afraid of losing,

someday i'll say how i feel

& it'll pay off-

right now its a picture

try and understand

that you'll leave a mark

on my brain

& my heart tempers

in a forge

around fire

i dreamt of lying next

to something i'd lose

its at peace, this war, at 2,

at noon its a blood filled place

without air

when beauty is elusive, hidden amongst

the snares of

lie

An ugly beast drips filth across

the floor

its when friends ease the pain

that it all goes away

turns into a feeling

that falls slow

from my fingertips

its when i've died in my head

that i feel the peace
of saying
what i mean.

went down to San Clemente with Perry Kyle & Jake to watch a Skooners show. i only have one photo buts its a good one.

the world's riddled with the sameness of questions all about meaning. bandwidth seems to be more and more important to everything; but we'll all get lost in the overwhelming knowing. cool it. what am i trying to figure out. trying to solve the distant feeling that something is not okay. but is that the truth ever-that things can be okay. trying to figure out if being social is important. people or what, silence; trying and doing all the time. the pressure of what is done and having to keep running or losing what is making you. maybe it really is just best to roll dice all the time. its not fear that rests with me, but a blank sheet of paper.

arrive to clarity

the deepness in an afternoon

what is sadness,

sometimes women

sometimes men

sometimes friendship

this is a guarded form

these are guarded things

open things - drift

on a narrow road

a storm approaches

to the distance see

A flock of children, flying

between the lightning

a paradise,

& sometimes our own trouble

makes us sad

the nature all around us

making love in hidden moans.

the desperate truth of youth

brings golden wishes

to those who open hands

where dreams are handed down

by the tempers of older dreamers,

the dying petals about to harden

let the wounds scab / scars

for later running fingers,

for procession

my head hurts

my hand shakes

there's a holy place about half a mile up the street

its where i threw up,

just from breathing

don't imagine the end

hear your feet walking

& its alright.

common ground / mixed media / canvas quadtych 

minotaur / mixed media / canvas

jesus / mixed media / canvas