And what of the night, Titian?
What of the night?
It is all I have now, Titian.
It is my only light.

By moon and star I see.
In absence I see greater.
In torch and candle, hearth is he
who changed me for the better.

But what of night Titian?
What of the weary night?
Such webs imprudent spun!
I begged.

He laughed.
I never thought the change would hurt so much.
Ah, wicked was the whoreson’s touch.
He laughed.

paperwork paper
hang on to documents
lose documents

without them you dont exist
progress
and yet

treasures bus slips
needless things
catch up

Spirited away into a void,
suspended in nothingness.

Moving pictures
of life flash by,
momentous moments
pause in transit,
allowing one
last celebration
of remembrance.

Instances of sorrow
smear sight,
the wretchedness tears
new holes in regret,
stamping days
that cross the soul
with melancholy.

Closing the shutters
of consciousness,
slipping into the
divine form,
swimming through
the dying river,
finally letting go

Arise my dark children!
Kiss your slumber goodbye.
The night has returned,
let us soar across the sky!

See how mortals tremble,
their fears so fresh and alive.
Some will be our slaves,
others will scream as they die

Hunt down the faithless,
the weakest prey of them all.
The unrepentant sinners
won't escape their fall

The virgins' blood will be
so sweet on your lips
you'll drown in ecstasy
with every droplet you sip

The paint flew in heliotrope
splashes
wet splurge

On canvas
on rooftop
on studio floor

speckled sprayed smeared
a fist of vermillion
POW!
a gloved chartreuse
azure was tender
THUMP!

The punches for real
all pent up fury
and poverty

The gallery needed action
the artists needed cash
so spectacled
ridiculed
a school of performing
paintbrush limbs

Too many times I have sat and watched as
you have told the little lies you tell to
explain away your actions and begin
the tired process of justifying your
callous behavior and desperately
horrid statements whose only purpose is
to viciously demean and brazenly
cower any small voice of compassion
directed toward those you savage as the
vile entertainment that is your sad life.
Then I recall these conversations are
just another aspect of my illness.

I saw you swing
a lantern like a star
above your head,
you waved
and maybe called my name,
or sang it as
you'd often do
somewhere between
a whisper and a sigh

I clambered through
the rising mist
looking for you,
but then you disappeared,
and all that howled
was the empty wind
through a gaping cavity.

The world capsized
or I tripped
perhaps,
in a tumble of earth
and broken wings.

purpose teeth to tongue
how can it speak, lick lip stick?
deplete complete biscuit
seek six sick sins
sat in SETT badger badge
barge barrage bar rage
cage as wage on stage
wadded ledge hedge pledge
verge dirge dire spire spaniel
cruel sequel Daniel in well
dwell dungeon cell
fortress fourth stress
Canaanite cane mite
dusk dust of light
knife of life
separate time , serpentine

1.
We were long into the summer
with the grass sweet and
the crabapples grainy and sour
on our pre-pubescent tongues.

The sun shadowed a clock onto
the street and it was time for food
and families.
That night I lay in bed with the
radio courting my dreams
while you slid into my friend's room and
seduced him to join you
in a world of make-believe,
helping him to get dressed;
pull those pants up around his neck
and tighten the belt.

Toswawtomo.. or

To Swim Within Those Moments…

As I gather up my clothes,
from the river bank the sun
steams our skins.

We had swam naked, eyes
wide open to the chill as
parts shrunk from the waters.

Our voices were echoing
male female in a
scattering of time,
from the old red barn the
Owl hooted his annoyance,
it had no clock.

This moment lasted hours
and the hours of this
present time were ours,
we held our time gently
as not to break.