why we suffer

totally explosive

mute and dumb

secret wishes and bathroom prayers

in the final moment of life

& being wrong, w/ the penalty of death.

hot food

side salads

bread baskets;

three sets of eyes through the window

waiting and watching

while the wind blows.

and it doesnt matter,

too tired,

eyes close;

love eternal

love forever

love solutions

loving blooms

beautiful love

love and tragedy

so much love

it doesn't matter

eyes close

, but dreams persist

in endless loving wonder

for love remains

and sends a reverberation

across the expanse

of empty.

vacation

 take the cruise

along the river chill

so icey bad its good,

swallow the party,

for a smooth wave,

for a good time,

calling like a way back

when falling kills vibes,

just dont fall anymore,

alls well for real.

chamber sub rosa

 nothing better then the start

Birthplace,

Getting to be the thing you

Are.

A focus based on your experience,

I dont think i could crash and burn

from how much i care,

i remember once imagining 

my most perfect world,

in it everyone agreed i was the best,

and if i wanted to i could nap

with respect; makes sense there

I

ISA day of rest.

earned.

remember the flutter of my heart,

my heat,

my long monologues,

my utter appreciation for

every single thing.

Upon entering

the chamber sub rosa,

All Secrets Revealed

unwind my history

 nobody cares about the box

i just moved,

uh ohs and no oh no's,

let me tell you about the hidden tension

all up inside me

tremoring at such high velocity

i appear buzzing,

follow follow me, trace with your pointer

i can pinpoint accurately where

im tight, susususosotight.

i feel it...

little little bites at night

some kind of total encapsulated

rigid states influenced by energy flows.

inside a matter form

unfolding,

with stories.

neighbor upstairs

 when does it feel like mine or yours

when do the tides turn , when do

why does all the passing mean

who watches, who knows,

last on the pause, hearing all clamor,

what is the answer, im listening

was there ever any choice,

the last known fragments

 

of everyones noises.

little note

 under the mountain laurel trees

i get warm by the morning

sun. no place long,

just the details of the places / spaces

wandering eyes.

foot feet on pavement, numbers, names, nascent natures,

thoughts about the future,

this time now.

remind me in 100 years,

the people from my time,

remind in eon,

my one true love,

remind me in the evening,

the little laugh next to my ear / smiling,

remind me in the morning,

that first warm hug,

under the sunlight i am reminded of our doings,

in the moonlight im reminded of our sleepings.

call me, ill come.

the songs of memory and time

 listenin to you

a middle cyclone

in Fall,

absolutely wrecks me,

in every best possible way.

the drum of memory

eternal full of feeling.

the idea of us everlasting

the moment all forever.

picture me and you

 off you go and there you went

someplace new foreign and fun

took everything going bad

to get good

but little moves quake morning

runs, along the embankment of your soul.

sometimes little cries at midnight

and leg hugs. how casual and hard

is life supposed to be? i think i like

feeling alive.

back you came after all that,

better

wow wow wow

actualized realized qualified drawn like

Masterfully, and every future song

about us.

take every drop of blood from my tongue,

dance wild crushin, keep loving

i can hear you snoring

god what we done.

 

Playground / oil / red oak / 10 x 25 inches

 

Last Nowhere / oil / canvas / 32 x 27 inches

A Story of the Night

 something going down down

by the airport.

sirens blaring, in the silent summer 

Heat. cry afoul the criminal

mastermind because

i hear his tirings screeching

burning blazing blacktop rubber carrying bounty

and, accomplices.

Then silence, and planes, and silence.

A final horn drifting melancholy in the background,

till more .

Finally, as the prologue,

i hear the sound of air conditioners,

slowly 1, then they vibrate together,

until all are heard, and the dark 

decimated by the beating of every

living person's heart.

signal flares

 there's something large

always swimming

beneath the spot

of where i see.

i'm a rock, unmovable me,

and i feel big, but don't know how.

if i could find, the thing that is,

then maybe i could be more than this.

little steps, up the hill

farther down the way below.

swift and free we make our moves

tangled and lost, we live our lives.

tell me now what you know

ill share my thoughts as secret things

and together us we change in ways

together us we fly away

obstructed views distant specks

risked it all

for the truth.

 chrysalis / oil / canvas / 12 x 12 inches

its true

 young now

longer days

totally unforgiven, cause who cares,

just figure it out, so

they told you itd all work out

theres nothing over there

just monsters sleeping,

And in while fierce feelings of hunger

lasting until shorter moments

until the final sunrise

final sunset, tell all my friends it was worth,

ya heard; and ps you dont have to answer

the door. 

I see the light

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

 

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

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.

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.

---

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.

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...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.

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.

pivot fool

 The side in the sun .

At the football match .

Didnt know .

But im warm, And its better.

sunday starboard cats

 These guys on a sunday Drinking shots, gambling, high fives and so much winning. Is that bro life? Do they slap each other around in celebration. Are they secret dads and husbands in the bar. And always slaves to the multitude of games. Bring it, bring it all on for us. YEAH. I give time, I give hope,  I give love, I give looks, Dont feel shame, Cause yeah these are probably good dudes.

message recieved

 somehow i know

youll know me,

from the crease along me,

that time the mark was made

and we both watched

as it happened.

being read by firelight

at night, in the quiet,

with shadows, with warmth,

and starlight - through a window.

somehow each of us must

be, and carry what we are.

gaze on

 I fish the stream, I gut the fish I love the ride Of her fingernails, I quote french And receive a kiss, I gather wood & fire burns.  Roast the sustain, On some charcoals, Plenty light now, Before the close.  The rest of nothing becomes whats missed, and knotted furrows depress the look.  Ivy grant me, A second cusp, Red brick memory from a backwards glance.  Hear us laughing, in the dark, so soft and pretty, in the night;  Clamorous calamity Bright Armageddon. Bounty feasting, glorious and sublime.

secret secret

 there's always something hidden,

in the back or

around the corner, in a spot

darker than seeing eyes.

and it was put there

for safekeeping

away from the reality

of others.

ideas brew idea babies

and they grow as fast as time.

it is the thinking,

that without light or water

without contact

without notice

that hidden stuff cannot grow

so sadly false is this view

and yet here we linger

in this form.

message in a bottle

 we are here

on this earth

like the trees

and the sun

and the air

and our hurt,

we are live,

as we wait,

as we build, as we care,

i know this thing,

about us all, i watch the wave

tumble forth,

call out names: one by one.

collapse the hard

by being good.

Look out farther,

further in,

grant me access,

receive love.

late night confessions

 i cry at night,

seen only by the

glow,

the noise hums,

i fill with regret

like a tub, a sink,

plugged up!

baby i just want to,

flow,

like a good guy

like a true

arrow,

can i please be 

mighty like the 

sun?

 

that good romance

 theres a cool car

& an ocean breeze,

dont forget restless obsessed,

beggin beauty bout you,

dont leave...hey,hey,hey.

i needs to leave you this way,

cutest bay, little moo, tippy toes,

scrunchy nose...

flick back your hair, dont care,

its forever ago, i know your smell,

always forever crushing.

a momentary mantra for passage

 time is a measure of space,

and light is the ruler;

From within we expand,

From expansion we contract.

The truth the ebb

the reality the flow

the present tense

the fixed point from where

we measure.

 

 

agitated

 sometimes i chop stuff down

cause i feel wrong

or told that,

or tired, worn;

sometimes i break things

by mistake or not,

finally lost of fear

dangerous, dumb, done.

mostly i breathe slowly,

remember past tragedies,

carry on.

the stars above us

 i sit by the fire surrounded by desert and look:

In front of me the flames take shapes,

i feel free and settled, and they speak;

deep within my cells the history of my all my pasts unfolds slowly with the heat and outer blanket darkness, and those times tell stories like when you used to camp with friends and family.

The rocks are witness.

The craggy outlines and holes penetrate the meaning. Im left to wonder.

The stars above also consuming matter, and gravity thuds the pit another log for the flames.

As night passes the moon rise quickens and all living things attend to the heavenly transfer between star and celestial body.

The fur of other beasts and plants coats the body, and at some point also sizzles and splatters, crucified / sacrificed in the name of lofty purpose. 

Depending on the adventure the desert can beckon with many diversions, pleasures, past times, or meditations.

Bold adventurers sample whatever offered.

Call your name,

So much emptiness answers.

I settle gently, still by the fire.

As it embers my eyes whisper dreamy,

thankful for the mojave.

future holds

 utah money, on the backs of dinosaurs;

destined for Los Angeles, and too old

to be a fun wag.

Best wishes greeting card

bout the bayo sandwich shoppe.

Make revenue, french press business.

Gangster Katies past the bullshit balls

INQUISITORS.

Along the coast somewhere,

a child named ocean, a digital nomad,

designs a collective consciousness

where a swath of awe inspired mammals

vibe out forever ditching their wasted copsules.

Come on,

a tendon pulled forever long

that tensions together with

the void.

radio vibe hearthrob

remind me

 

i feel like i am now,

a terrible dreamer

in the shadows of larger buildings

without soul.

i couldn't be much farther,

but they be far, and peaceful arms 

in the hands of shady diplomats, staves / olives / bars;

the side im on, i feel im all got, and we've never won.

how long to the future plan,

im not what anyone wants. but im brave. im not afraid.

courage in parts, take my hands - im thinking of you.

blowing in the wind, smiling, wild, life escaping us, 

romance and finding places in trust.

i could gather,

envisioned tangled beneath breaths.

imagined in a room, b u m contemplated 

lost control dreamed in synths of sun singing...

little ducks following footprints.   ...

lop my cleaver with an eyelash

 its the little anxieties

that manifest

over time, the shape the body

and memory

the leftover path of a worm

is our brains.

Feet rubbed over and over,

by each other. terrible seconds before 

the begining. wasted shudders

from reliving the thinking. 

Developing recombinant patterns

while we lay helplessly asleep,

like victims, like tragedies, like comedies.

We are complex jokes for simple things like stars.

we smoke, we vibe;

perilous travels the fusion in a vacumn.

Fucking snoring,

I was writing.

oh ache more

 lost are the ways we were,

losers in endless dreams,

in total sense of self we need love,

stand apart together now,

grieve the guild of broken hearts,

long in shadow growing dark,

give me something more than this,

hug me tightly like the final wish.

scenic shot

 a pot boils at the edge

Ledgley a bird watches

Meat cooking fire,

Inside the brothy turmoil

Of cold wind fights,

And a dog gnaws on corncob.

----

 

tumbling & stumbled toes on hard ground

 the arc of towels

across the sky

leaving a window

in a metaphorical escape

from this place.

defined location as wherever

exits must exist

for those who feel themselves

in the quicksand.

strategy and strategems

superstitious artifact,

suspect / evil / intent,

suspicious outcomes,

detonate! ,

how do i remove thy prescene,

from the home,

from the heart,

from the hearth

where residential existence resides.

i have tried most everywhere &

feel restless

about the cause;

long and far away are my memories of warmer times.

even without fire,

even betrayed by change,

let me feast on whatever platter

comes.

 

soulkeeper / oil / red oak / 13 x 17 inches

rum runner / new year / 2023

 Its one of those quiet nights where the waitress tells you she has an ingrown toe nail and knocks on wood. "The night isnt too busy." Theres a guy named gary eating soup in a corner and ive seen him walking around the neighborhood. Its weird to me that im a dad. I have a nearby bar i like. Theres a regulars. Oh fuck they know my name. Its comforting. We battle over the jukebox. The floors are wood and the walls are stone. Theres pool tables. I feel somehow lost and embraced. Im in the middle of the best part of a daring adventure. A corner, some ale. The buzz of humans. Come on! Come on! The hustlers are playing pool tonight. I love small communities so much easier to wrap my head around the variables. I dont care about the wins or losses it all amounts to the same ledger but what about all the heart behind every choice. Gary slurps his soup and all is right with the world. It has to be enough to get me to bed finally when its all over.

 

---

*there's a place in my phone with a running commentary of all the food pickups and moments of existence my experience(s), before being thrown back in the fray.

 

---

i walk far

when little eyes

wont close.

 

far beyond the wave / oil / canvas / 32 x 25.5 inches

exist

 A cactus grows

In the silhoutte 

Of a crossroads 

Where people vy 

For their turn in life

ordinary evening

 I dont know if i have an easy memory to reference of when football ends at a bar. The noticiable shift is fucking noticiable. The bartenders switch the tv audio over to music and everyone leaves. You hear all the drunk tabs being closed. People light up cigarettes. Theres a clear distinction between the dudes who want to gamble and do, and all the other dudes who have to go home. I had no idea 830 was a consumer shift change. Dont let anyone fool you consumerism is 'what you do' as the primary job in our culture. Whatever your work is secondary to the myriad of description on how anyone consumes. Even content consumption generate a massive profit and its what 'we do'. Booze and gambling is less of a veneer than private school and first class flights. Endangered brazilian hardwood toilet seats. Still shitting diarreah. The last people in the bar either playing pool or waiting for food. Take all that as you will. Men once waited in trenches to die and now cant make a choice watching netflix.

Estes Park

 So high up hanging with the weather changes. Still pines and ravagey aspens like every watercolor portrait for the time of fall. Crashing elk into chain link fences, and wagons with kiddos going up the hill. Some measured vacation relaxing between the responsible and the chaotic; cable tv. The sound of meat and veggies on the fire, roasting toasted grilled charred smokey. We perform the caraseoul around the Target parking lot, while mom shops; beats double shopping carts in a safeway...or does it? Vomit and apples down a windy road with crying. The menu. Appetizers. Cocktails, del taco. Cry some more in the shivery night papa, youre welcome. Sleep tight little children, bottles and blankets and beer for the dada wine for mama. Hot Tub Time Machine. Whisper gentle in the lamplight, and from the table to the couch eyes close sleepy in dreamy tired aches. I love you, i love you. This is vacation. New kind of vacation.   Some complex grandeur adventure but something always falling, and falling. Without partners theres lone wolf territory where little cracks turn to chasms and without the backup no repair. So rest easy. I got you. You got this. Each other, no others.

emo wimper

 G l yoner fu. I wait forever for something better. It is human. I am me and animal in habit. Feed my tummy fat and sugar, i will sleep. Dry eyeball in the morning, sighs in the evening. Last of all the good. Forever backwards wanting. Try each joint in terrible achey motion; time has made me wither; and final is every memory splayed like a flayed bo

dy in the sun aware that l both wave and a particle.

ltp

 Isms and ishs Ates and ucks Inging es's ymns Cal ilk tus Ieieieieie Ders apts ips Nds Nds Owers Ifts. Ilsish, in in en. Oopa oopa, axz.  

Perm paper press 

Historical blood draws 

Tricks and treats in border towns 

Costume villains bring doom Down central ave. Call the coroner To view the corpses, Students crawl close quarter contact With debts; Theres nothing like a cold beer After a hard days work. I am flying far To get away.

rip blair

 

Its been a tough week. One of my best friends died suddenly and without warning. He was my age, we were extremely close, and had traveled and adventured both together and with our wives (who are also best friends), and the reason why the two of them knew each other. I introduced them on a trip long ago.

Now he's gone and I can't talk to him or see him anymore and I feel lost and alone and scared by all that. And I still feel really numb. And all I can do at night when the kids go down is paint until I can't see straight. Try to make art that he would love, in the way that he loved it when he was alive and would visit my studio and buy paintings and we'd just sit and share.

Can what I make now do justice to his past memory. Can it make him alive the way his singing makes him alive when I listen to him. Its crazy how if you die and you are an artist, and then moreso a singer a musician, everything you leave behind is a recording. And not only a recording but something people want to listen to over and over again because its music. Its not home videos or short clips, but actual art made by the person externalizing everything about themselves.

We can visit that art, hear the ghost of a dead loved one. I have had other friends die, and I can't even really remember what they sound like because the last time I heard them they were alive and its been too long now..

But with Blair, I can play something from my phone. And it becomes all so real. And I'm tired of feeling the multitude but I guess that's better than nothing. And nothing would be worse. Thered be no art, no songs, nothing. So I can be thankful and know that time will pass and not get better but just be more of everything that is. I suppose writing about acceptance is a lot easier than feeling it, and it being true. Its a step? I hate the stages of grief. They've been with me for way too much of my life

sentencing

 i am sure i would

Know better

If my pruning shears were

Sharper, slicey slew slaw

Sawing all toothy.

Edgey cut bloody

Pouring from gashes.

Im all for efficiency,

Clawing at redundancy.

Shouting wont save it

Not when there's yelling,

Rotting from poison

Rusting without reason.

Laugh it up fuzzball

Cure those crusty phantoms.

If i was quicker with justice,

Then balance be brokered.

medieval times

patrol the grounds

check the trees,

shut the gates

and set the watch;

remove refuse

broker the close

of the kitchen and hearth.

Abandon all the worry

of the past living day.

Hanging are the orchids,

geckos run the ramparts,

ants tarry with nightly cleaning,

broken are the whispers,

Ghosts command the creaking,

fathers break the pantry,

couriers slumber all the deeply,

guests snore sleepy in their chambers,

doggies whimper dreamy,

& princes and princesses sleep

peaceful.

Bricks cast shadows from the lamp light;

stars shine broken in starry starlight,

on windows darkened,

On full summers,

final winters,

shiny spring,

resting fall.

Comfort castle

cozy fort

sanctuary becoming

sanctum heart!

 

Date Night, Sex & Sleep (in no particular order)

 Most Excellent Skull
Admit 2
At Last Chance
Villa Solidad
Fume Rancor
Dreary Sunday
Big-time Callback
Rotate Above
Tres Camas
Dozen Eggs Double Bacon
Bones Pantry
Sol Exposure
Desert Fire
Proper Attire
Duty, Neglect, Touch
All the Little Whispers
Forgiving Look
Soft Nibbles
Collarbone Kisses,
Lips Aqquired
Faintly Surrounding Darkness
Only Shadows
And Eyeballs,
Before Dreams

Boundless, unlimited, the one without death

 Akupara


Akupara akupara

AKUPARA! AKUPARA! AKUPARA!.




akupara.
Akupara
akupara.

...
Akupara.

Akupara





.

choices

 -"nobody knows what waits for the dead"

living life lucky till the end,

lots of time spent fooling around in bed,

slowly, wishing i was yellow,

cooling timid, beams of the sun,

moping like a crow, on the edge,

nothing like feeling better again,

im a soldier looking to get ahead,

giving it all away,

sparing nothing today,

the will in the chest bringing it all to bare,

never getting lots /

sometimes just enough

i swear its all in my head.

 look at all us doing

like little big bads

on the coastly waters

crawling out

from single celled living.

must be confused with deities,

who build palaces

in stately pleasure domes

 

 KuKhan.

 

 

mighty mortal

 the sounds of the enemy

hammer my soul,

my heart makes

beating thunder

on the morrow.

when the sun rises

every blessed virtue

becomes torn asunder,

when the red light wavers

i see terrible, deadly summers...

the first and last of every

supper; glimmer ghostly

scheduled parties.

love something fierce strongly

in the final show

act iii, after

the crescendo.

 

The view of the powerful.

In charge.

A watching vulture.

There must be blood pouring.

And all else is fragile.

Poor souls breathing

Final breaths

trip

you can't go to the pyramids,
without a quick stop
through Istanbul, once upon
Constantinople.
flying forward over an ocean, a desert, & a Sea
some mountains forest and crag, sonic vocal.

clanking drinks.
sunlight glaringly.

i am bound onward greatest journey ever happening.
i am expecting riches beyond my wildest dreams;
both material and other, fulfilling, true and
glimmering.

I need a partner,

She waits expectantly.
a delicate wrist

rests a delicate
watch, with a woman
watching. wrought
inscriptions a mind wresting
some significant time
ticks tragic tocking
take pressure
this precedence
of chance meeting. quickly glancing -
charming / dashing
sexy beyond all example.
legs forever climbing
lashes with a face forever imprinting a memory
fine and featured.
Princess Adventure.

our journey
our location
civilization's cradle majesty the silty extravagance river Nile, some personal conquesting;
knowing, that
in coming
there is nothing
but darkness
for you and me. but also every little atom.

the tombs are quite lovely
the hieroglyphics in passing
some kinds of hissing & snakes,
scarabs, and dankness
and kissing in some forgotten
alley.
you are Pharaoh
you are Cleopatra
touching...
you can't explore this body,
without being greedy.

morning coffee
and munching, munching, pleasing munch.
sparkling vino
attractive talking
glancing and fun.

could this be never ending?

o

crescendo

 beyond our loneliness lies
the dream of heaven,
a shimmering imagination super imposed
on the oasis shoreline of pure water, wavy.
incredible! successful bliss, in waver waver
total carefree bleeding
lost in good intention
from living being
living.
save please save me save please explain
the song is ending, but
i knew it was coming, and
it felt like it could be forever.

to make the world a better place

the value of a dare only exists

if the dared also gets to play.

and if the game proceeds Accordingly,

then may fortune favor

the braver.

 

 

 

the hanging lamp

In an abbey far from here,

up in the mountains touching

clouds, monks pray in silence;

making bread,

making beer.

A garden circles the stones:

and glass, orchards, towers, windy paths, halls and rooms...

extra large oil paintings, tapestries, stories told in candlelight,

farm to table dining, and some wildlife, a pond, the smell of morning, nap-time, and dusk.

A quiet calm pervades

the grounds.

Yet in one corner not far

from there,

a forge fire glowing

hammering, hissing,

and hot. 

A lamp is wrought;

commissioned by the King. 

A copper base, inlaid with gold

organic life. Somehow scarabs from

the middle East w/ emerald shells

shimmering in the light.

The lamp hath some miracle wick.

The forge hath imbued some

witched trick.

Shaped like the tear,

And a platinum chain.

The lamp has seen many master

slain.

It has come and gone as Ages pass.

It has hung from hearth, in home, on branch,

battle, meal, and lights the dark.

Tomorrow means little to the lamp.

It glows and dims,

like ever the passage of time.

the inner tear

 during a windstorm;

the cries from the suburbs

can be heard in the city.

A trove of abandoned

dreams, voices hurt

in achy lonesome.

cold like memory

abandoned by themselves.

sorrow heard as matter

carried by the motion

of celestial.

floorboards

 their lie houses

in the fall.

Then,

winter crawls

in quiet halls.

Alone and walking,

creeps creaking slow,

humming heater

dropping snow.

shadow lives,

shapely scary;

shifting, showy, slowly,

slipping forms.

Slumbering since evening...

Waiting out the season. For,

Spring light unraveling.

Stop sleeping, birds singing.

 blossoms cover

all the awnings.

Yawning

warm fashion,

in woken rooms!

Preparing for

Summer.

----

Post party collapsing,

so much swimming.

Glim light yonder future.

Forward is the passage

Surely in the rapture

Surely in the ray

of light that starts each

day anew.

 

forget and keep on

 i want to move my hands 

 with something i already know how to do

i'm a sucker 

for watching anything
happen; 

i want to give it my all 

all of the time. 

if everything wasn't so fucked, 

maybe we'd be good, 

if we are the best 

maybe this would be 

beautiful. 

i need to go 

you need to leave 

we'll meet on the sun 

a thousand times ago.

 people climbers

Dont watch out for,

Icey mountains.

hand of darkness / oil / canvas / 17 x 21 in. / 250

 

Resurrection / oil / canvas / 17.5 x 19.5 inches / 300.00

 

digestive tract / oil / canvas / 13.5 x 12 inches / 200.00

 

 

 

the perilous path / oil / canvas / 14 x 15 inches

earthwalker / oil / canvas / 12 x 12 inches / 200.00

 

*as a kid i used to wander the desert. it was a passion to explore everything i found was new to me because i was mostly alone. i had a book that once water spilt on the pages and made it wavy and warped; in it contained the entire glossary of the different deserts ecosystems, plants, animals, geology of north america. i was living in the mojave so that was where i resided in the tomb, and identified and became more knowledgeable about what i was discovering for myself. there were ants everywhere. and in the shadow of the purple mountains during the sunrise of our sky fiery & enchanting this ant proceeds along its path guided by pheromones and a certainty of its actions. both present and future. the painting framed in the semblance of a cherished child hood ant farm (you can tell by the green borders. because so much of life is memory this painting is all bleeding and faded wiped and smudged. the feeling of the total experience through an image made by amalgamation.

 

 

 

idyll bells / oil / canvas / 20 x 18 inches / 300.00

 

storytime / oil / canvas / 21 x 21 inches / 400.00

ikebana / oil / canvas / 31 x 23 inches / 500.00

Plane Crash

Like a leaf on gentle wind, we floated down to paradise. Where old tourists, faraway bathed their, achy old hearts. The first night we, gathered luke warm without knowledge. Ancient trees watched us assemble the remains o f our luggage; i setup a transient bar: tequila, scotch, bourbon, cognac, and wine. Fire, tacos, myrmyrs... for dinner. Those that were sleepy retreated to nearby caves. And the final burning embers dimly gave way to crashing waves. Morning brought no one together. So i followed my soulmate, and a retreating river to town. More bodies, caked in white crystalline, or zinc, wrinkles, bored grandchildren; rows of white houses with the same double chairs in front and origin flags. I spoke Catalan; my lover German. Amused we were rescued. Returning with two others. They hadn't tasted what we had. We threw a party. At last the world beckoned. There was so little struggle. Nothing hard. Never weary. My stomach full. Warm and cozy. Missing without worry. Never lost, simply present. I cant remember what happened to, the others. And part of us forever stayed on that island.

paradiso / oil / canvas / 19 x 18 inches / 250.00

 

under cover / oil / canvas / 15.5 x 13 inches / 150.00

 

 

life signs / oil / canvas / 14 x 11 inches

lullaby / oil / canvas / 16 x 13 inches

 

groundskeeper / oil / canvas / 19 x 17 inches / 250.00

 

Love Insanity

 out up in the Mts., looking down from a winding road at Lake Tahoe and the wind washes across my face.

music inspires me to communicate how i feel as i am free and alive.

I'm a meadow dream,

you and me,

crashing through the trees.

 

 

 

 

 

desert rat / oil / canvas / 20 x 17.5 inches / 200.00

 

 

 

 

 

basement dweller / oil / canvas / 32.5 x 26.5 inches / 300.00

anniversary edition / oil / canvas / 19.5 x 14 inches

Locally sourced pelican bones

that creepy crawly fear, that latent anxiety, that horrible item in the back of one's mind

i wear my hat on my head,
thinking the suns out
even inside...
what have we become?
Monsters in the dark!

-julian

to wither:
a lack of water,
where once great magnificence
rooted in the earth
lay splendid in the sun.
a pitiful aspect across /
hot concrete terrain.

a lack of color
that used to exist before.
not yet past,
to regain,
through care
a repose,
of what
was once there.

to touch:
adjudicate effect
from cause.
dangerous, warm, friendly,
bridging the horrible distance
between us.
calm in the calamity
of fragile topology.

thought in all manner
of action and inaction,
to care

to play

a pageant
from the bloody
conscious brain.

do not touch the
bridge controls.
away at nap,
be back later.

Vision Quest / oil / canvas / 31.5 x 30.5 inches / 600.00

la tierra alta / oil / canvas / 9.5 x 12.5 inches / 100.00

wondrous work

you are like a lamp
sometimes the only
lonely glowy lighting rooms,
you are starry,
imagining some dreams.

little dude

if I was a tiny guy
My iMac would be
A movie screen,
Id go like real big
Sound loud
And like wow wow.

post-mortem

semi-luxury
garbage bag
strictly risky business
always gucci
always right
born & forgotten
gaming all this life.

Call to Bed

bite this
forever more
my pinky swear
on the hour dear
before we arrive
to paradise.

when we evolve
through strategy,
cunning while
guile fearless &
genetic tough.

i heart you
tight, rough my finger
weep, sipping pleasant
sups of love
inside my cup
a perfect amount
of good times.

together close
doubly warmer
either alive or dead
indifferent in
the cuddle...

Late Night Tasty

oh yeah.
blurry eyeball,
extra cookie!

word games

catastrophic failure control
over the module…
coincidental music appreciation,
in the morning…
grafted bonus intelligence
must be
your lucky day….
triangulate total perfect function
beautiful weather, beautiful weather,
letter by sincerely
total uncertainty
collapsing record player
spinning, humming hiss hacking repast
so much loving
so much loving
so much hi’ing hellohappy’ing
burning burning burning.

The Rise and Fall of Succesful Species

 PART 1

imagine no moment after, so impossible.
awareness means reception of past time / future activity.
present tense means knowing occurence.
existence means to be.

death be not knowing
death's design requires only absence
impossible for presence
totally separate from feeling.

freedom means the opposite,
freedom or nothing
no between, which means distraction,
success means freedom
liberty from death.

only you and i know the secret
to never dying,
only you and i can whisper
this story,
only you and i know our purpose
one day chanting
immortal succession!

footnote:
we must have it everyone.
we must have it.
without we are nothing
without we struggle
without it we hide behind things like our mighty constructions.
but we know what is coming
what it means to be
forever cherishing this little moment sipping, sipping
always wanting more
we can quench our thirsty worry
don't forget the goal
don't give up
amen amen amen amen.


PART 2

gawl crawling like gods on starry waves
we made it! we did it! we figured our own mighty code
embracing the brilliance of our biology.
and with success we find ourselves
masters of the near domain - still reaching
outward ascending matter riding dust in elements
of metal. a choo.

still, still
we are animal
we are beast(s).

PART 3

basic complex mind or matter
am i only this because i am?
do i really matter after
everything? reaching
collected consciousness.

finally totally E M B E D D E D,
yet lusting somehow
in this matter simulation.

wondering and wandering nowhere
establishing / rising / falling
coalescing
warring
farring
trading
caring
winning losing

being!
being.

IV

Nothing infinite was fortold...
Once upon a telling.
Nothing greater than the creator.

Witnesses only,
A
Cosmos cold,
All Energy
Collected in the center
& outside we watch in the dark,
Now just one thing.

In an instant literal it is over.
A new universe is born
for someone else's turn.


Epilogue:

The point of existence means seeing the true end.
To see the final scene.
To close the chapter in eternity.

Anything else is small potatoes,
Anything else is games of chance
On a stupid round table.

isolation

Nobody knows,
what it sounds like,
outside, the
karaoke room.

human warmth
best touch

whispered dreams comes
calming vibes of supple intensity.

from the jewelry box

the pearl diver
and those beads
greatly hanging
from this long neck, by a woven string to hold
have endured hard times
bringing those jewels
to you.

they hold the key to vitalious victory,
they hold time,
holding like a charmed heart
that heats hot
laying now on a heavy
chest, lowly
rumbling
atomically.