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.