Last Summer.

Pupils, catching stars
Off the sparks
In the midnight oils
Of the stratosphere
Long car rides
Away from the beach
With each new tide
I see your face
Disappear behind the hillside
Your passing
Soon only in mention
And the paths we made
With the trails we took
Wash away with sand and time.

In the Dark.

Your summers are gone
Your work spent
There's nothing left
Tired song
Tired song
Be true
Let the darkness in
Storm on the sea
The old house
The attic
Where you used to live:
Those woods
At night
Run and hide
Never feeling safe
Breathing in the air
Its cold & empty
Stark & free
Things can't be safe
We can't trust that
Not ourselves
Don't get comfortable
Let the darkness in
Cause the suns gonna rise
Let the darkness in
There you don't die
Let the darkness in

Sad whales. (sea side funeral)

With thinly arms
Men beating on drums
See thoughts reflect back
From the ripples in the water
With each rain drop
(Their eyes closed)
Black sails set
Against a muddled sun
A morose sea
Fog drifting in
The sad whales sing
The corpse:
Blind folded
Smokes his last cigarette
Mutters goodbyes
To loved ones
With his hands tied:
Raises his fists
As the thunder haunts the air
Still

Rushing.

Going nowhere
Blowing about like littered
Leaflets caught in a gust
Asking for your subscription
Your faith
Asking for your application
To wonders worth seeing
Ideas worth thinking
Taking a moment to pause
Between the inhale
And the

Exhale

To go
Or to
Stay
Remain
In some hope
Comfort.
Conforming to the walls
That hold you
House is a home
Arms to embrace
Reassurance
I'll make.
In return
Routine
No escape
So take the chance
To even think:
You're holding
A ticket in your hand
Not sure to where
The ink has worn
And the train is blank
Like a canvas
For your optimism
Or your grief
Settled on the railing of the station
And image in the sky
Fixated on setting sun
Staring while
The last bell
Sounds
Your feet in operable transport
Sinking into the cement
Hearing the conductor's
Last call
Steam hiss
Doors crash
Closed.
Waving goodbye
Even though you're staying
Just go
Go.

the golden pavilion.

It's nervous, stale
In the autumn air
The crisp leaves beneath our feet
Felt as if I had not aged
Young and scared
More curious than before
Taking my hand
Winding
Along the sidewalks
Like a ballet serpent

The park
I use to play in
Not the same
As I remembered
Much different
But the feeling
And the air
So pure
So simple
I'm sure

You're a silhouette
Of a ghost
Guiding me
Some mass
Of familiarity
Just out of view
It feels like a trick
But I'm handing myself over
Quite. unsure.
But I feel safe

Taken with sincerity in your
voice
Hollowed out and missing
Trusting in your
eyes
Off somewhere
Looking upon me

It feels like god
Yet a goddess
I wouldn't know
I never would
It's gold

I see it now:
As it dawns
On a pyramid
Brilliant
Surreal
Why is it there?
Obscuring the sun?
Something I've never seen before.

It's unsafe.
Untried.
Mechanical.
Organic.

In the childhood park?
My first love
Taking me by the hand
As a shape
Unalluded to memory
Creation
Obvious!

The sunrise is like fire
Bursting off the sides
The scattered light
Like a splash of blood

Reminds me when to die
My past so pure
And painful
Forming a stutter
To be shy

People will wonder
When you're gone
No matter how you go

You're just gone
And that's something to wonder!

You're walking through the park
And you're feeling these things
It's a crisp autumn day
And you're feeling these things

The love that I saw that day
Is no match
For the love of the day

Not like this life
That's been made worth living

haunted.

Settled on the docks
Waiting for the ship
Little breeze
And dusk
Telling
Nothing
Of what's to come
Glimmers of hope
Reflections of the water
Some light;
Watch it flicker
What folds into dark
Is so nurtured and rich
Driving the desert
From the sea
Now on vast lands
Of dust and sun
Waiting on the misplaced docks
Watching the seagulls fall
Another dastard display
Of disinterest in conviction
Left the boy numb
Stranded in abandonment
But what wilts of hope
Turns to realization
Of a cut hand
A bleeding protest
Lying far down
Small and undisplayed
A personal vindication
Well-meaning person
Did not give up
Did not die from drought
Did not miss those waters
Murkier as he continued to wait
Like this sand settles
As though it's an infinitive hour glass
But the tides have been seen
This is no mirage
There is still chance in waiting
Even if the return
Is more of the same

heart break.

piano strings
hanging from the trees
on a cloudy day
just after rain
saw my hands
going grey
listening
for a call
wearing my favorite clothes
nice sounding shoes
maybe I'll run into you
find another way to impress you
before; there goes another day
church bells & the birds
lingering from up high
all; out of sight
as a cough catches a regard
for the cold to take the age
leaving skin stretched
and voice sore
can't unlock lips
to shout out:
see if someones listening?
but vague guesses
really haven't solved anything
as the wind settles
the dead trees: die
can't try hard
to see what I've done
left up to see
what you'll decide
past tense: a long time
so I left
some old fairy-tale place
tainting the air
burning up the books
it's an abandoned house
hearing the old floors
moan and moan
makes me nervous:
run out into the woods
back to the days where I had thought
I escaped
leaving my life to be alone
trying to figure out a way
to get you back
farther and farther
I couldn't find my way back
I'm sure if if I could
I'm sure that I can't
further and further
past. past.

elongated lines.

razor dead, conviction, kill
in the summer house hills
rivers of gold
reflecting waning sunlight
turns to blood
when it falls to dusk
drink it up
drink it up
see the sails from the beach
white diamonds in blue haze
so relaxing
sounds of waves
winds
thunderstorms
coming up through the tall fields
just a squall but they'll call
yah back home
retreat
retreat
away
you're so aware
so safe
& quiet.

gravity shun.

Straight streets
Long shadows
Earth bites
And scratches
Little cuts in the sky
Dripping dark
On buildings
& parking structures
Sunsets, right.
Long hands stretch far
Down the alleys and the boardwalk
Near the suburbs and my house
Clouds swirl and the grass dies
Dog is dead and the roof's on fire
As my mom comes home from work
To collect the mail

the excessive room.

the excessive room is an entity that exists entirely in streams of consciousness. It is endless existence while existing in a single space. Visualized as four walls with a ceiling it is never physically represented but interpreted accordingly by occupants. Memories, photographs, written words, remembered conversations, dreams, drawings, and film all are represented through the mind's eye of understanding. Remembering memories offers different standpoints and subtle differences (or large depending) to the researcher of one's own categorical thoughts. Simplifying and distilling is key in understanding the basis of a feeling and retained emotion. To express this the body may seek a nonexistent outside stimuli to reinforce understanding and reassurance. Memories shared by one exist very differently thus the excessive room is only one user compliant. Unity is a falsity. Things are always complex yet simple. Rhythmically layered and compiled to make sense. There is rarely excuse, just observation. Non chronological sequences of events may create "holes" or missing information allowing the room to be devoid of anything but what the users input or "solved information" . This offers the user "resolve" and keeps the excessive room excessive with consistency and no "break". The excessive room is endless. This is an epic problem.

speaking in french and smoking (a lot of) cigarettes.

Try to see the eyes of the beast
Draining power from our houses
Leading extension cords
Down the street
Sisters wrapped up in em'
Dying playing jump rope
Brothers gotta get home
But he's got his shoes melting
Asphault's turnin' tar
And that sun ain't what you thought
When it's leaving stains
All over that bright blue sky
Can't deny the lasers
When mom and dad's car
Blows up.
And a decent size head hole
Can't offer escape
From this depression
Heart attacks at the tick of the clock
Sending us hurling to our hospitals
Gettin' medications
For anxieties prone to be
Being
Sip some shaky tea
Spilling steam
On
The
Dining room
Waiting room
Table
Charts
Charts
Charts

crave to catch the edge,

Falling piece
Of glowing debris
Dancing in place
Raining from space
Coming off of
Me
It's not shedding light
It's letting you know it's dark
& that
maybe there's still something
to see.