Very beautiful,

But WE MUST
bow down to those schizophrenic.....
what...leaders!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here
Who know no more poetry?
Fucking more or less,
Than you or me,
Yes they are nude and totally hopeless
Of course needless to say style-less

However sarcastically
words soft and serene,
They all say
I can never write poetry
As clean.

bliss
the heat wavers
rusted bright against
the painful dark

today is an open book
with chapters flowing
and clouds white torn
knowing

I could kiss
deep the dark of night
where dreams have
lain waiting upon the
stoney bed of creeks
embrace

stubby grasses bright
green and trees twisted
with wisdom and stalwart
dry seasons

turn the tap and release
fresh desire
My mind is parched
and my soul is hollow
like the stretched skins
of the poacher

I came to be inside of her
on a night of fun and laughter.
How long in here will I endure
or, upon exit, what comes after?

Nutrition causes me to grow
and her belly to swell
but I remain here even so
and get along quite well.

The longer that I stay inside
the bigger that I get.
When will I see the world outside?
In here it's getting tight and wet.

Swoosh, I hear wings glide
across my quiet spot near
babbling water along the creek.
I imagine
wise owls
limping along winter gray limbs
basking in first streaks of
sunlight,
collecting my vibes
gathering my pains
my joys
together for me
and sending them
to me revamped,
and wrapped with hope.
I stir out of
comfort to
face today
optimism blankets me.

How delicate paradise was
Balanced on the scales of human desire
Just a frailty away from chaos.

she said no,
to something she doesn't know
she thinks i'm not worth her cost
whew! she's not my loss...

she didn't believe me
she even disliked me
she's blind to see my angel cause
hell! she's not my loss...

she told me to go away,
sure! i'll never stay..!!
love's hard to find when it's out and lost,
after all, she's not my loss...

Fear not Nazis,
for they are fools and nearly extinct.

Fear not Commies under your bed,
McCarthy's vile invention has been exposed.

Fear not the Yellow Peril,
for they are you, or your neighbour.

Fear not terrorists,
just the last in a long list of lies
for fear ascribed
to freedom proscribed
by the Patriot Act.

Fear the fear that governs.

Though on a personal note,
I fear none of that.
I piss in its general direction.

So what
if my heart
is killing me by inches,
so what
if coronary arteries
are slowly squeezing,
so what
if pain writhes
exquisite through my chest
when I am tired,

I am already dead,

so what the rest of you all dread
I have embraced,
what you fear is now my
intimate companion,
what you see as final ending
is my new beginning,
each and every day.

Hatred drives the appetites
of happy murderers,
grateful for the chance
to show their righteous indignation,
laughing at the agonizing fear
of battered innocence
driven to the place of execution
by cracking whips of butchering mirth
and jokes about virginity given
without permission.

Forced down by hands already
slaked with others' blood,
no blackened eyes are bound,
no broken hands tied back
behind bruised backs,
just terror
in the realization
no one will help.

For someone whom I know:
All the words, deeds and redundancies
Buried with memories,
Written in sheets alleviated
By time and amber ties
Disintegrating.

For someone whom I know:
The resurrected obscurities
Engulfed within my heart,
My soul and insecurity,
Sufficed by gall and bile
Retaliating.

For someone whom I know
Are these two words exhilarating:
"Misguided trust", gleaming
The heart with realizations
Of hefty betrayal
Obliterating.