Lost Forest


A name was quietly erased today.

A name pulled from the records with no added explanation,

A name slipped away from our collective sub-conscious.

Illness gives way to absence, absence becomes prolonged indifference,

Prolonged indifference gives way to questioned existence,

A name is all that ties one to existence.

A name was quietly erased today.









Opportunity Cost

For a simple exchange, my good sir, you may buy,
A slick, polished future, with views from on high.
A seat in a chair so soft and so right,
When you get there you’ll never remember the fight.
Or the things that you loved that you missed on your way,
Up this hill where on top is that big, bright “Some Day.”

You’ve made a fine choice my discerning, wise friend,
For a much grander future awaits you in the end.
All I need from you now, to make best come to be,
Is to pay for your dreams with a low one-time fee.
It’s all waiting for you, so act now! Don’t delay!
Success can be yours!
…The price is today.


Portraits Age in Reverse

Here, explanation offered:
I, as memory, is only time.
Time only is memory.
As I offered explanation here.


Swing Set

The joy of creation,
can only be known,
against a backdrop of sedation.

The pains of the artist,
with too much to say,
are dulled through the mind’s masturbation.

* * *

The seasons turn swiftly,
seeds planted… some grow,
while others rot trapped in hard clay.

The life lived tomorrow,
so seductive and bright,
forever outrunning today.

* * *

Serpant selves shedding skins,
twice born in a day,
thin shells and old eyes never missed.

Once catching a glimpse,
of a muse waxing high,
pulling with it the tides of our bliss.


8.1.12 Afternoon

standard rain drops plummet down

the old caress of concrete

embedded in memory

(there is a fire in a park outside the city beneath the bench in the soil)

something emblazoned across the mind,

like a scar buried under legal bound


(we fell in love in that flame within the camera you stole)

Coming home

in some way


oh how the scores of light so bright
flicker quick and slow down my plight
i need to visit the youth of what
i need to see stretched out so taught

i once knew the way i was
i tell myself i’ll be there again
i’m heading north for to be alone
i wanna heal my mind and my bones

my legs were tired i fell in the snow
took off my pack, couldn’t move any more
slower and slower my thoughts grew dull
i was too far from home, asleep and alone

one dream over and over so dense
roaming the plains putting up my defense
sweet summer fruit no where to be seen
i’ll never taste the air, never breathe in

Time to Bleed

the shadows do the talking
looking at the begging glares
how strange the fallen’s cries
dug down with tar dug down with sound

restless fading tired flights
the day will come for time to bleed
restfull deeds they strengthen
drop down and smell the glow alone

new nights come and claim the calm
their eyes burst into flames
the path that shows the light
must pass revealing the shine


opened and exposed
clearer dawns have risen before
spent and hollow how we’ve grown

held up high the truths we’ve heard
caught between the falling eyes and thoughts again

wait no more for now you know
how to feel the breath of wise minds gone astray
hang up the look of emptiness
towards the sky
you see the future smile

as the lights go out
rolling visions hide low and silent
take some time oh how you’ve grown

awoken by the tone of what you’ve seen in the past
cut the time and drinks in half

how long will this last?


He fathered them all,
Their blushing mother nursed them,
Balanced them in the gentle sway of her delicate fabric.
As children they loved their Mother,
In awe of the Father that provided all.
From a shared cradle they emerged,
Brothers and sisters.

From above, their Father watched their wanderings.
Illuminating their world with light and life,
As He made His way across the sky.
In four directions His children spread,
Chasing horizons over great distances.
Like seeds on a wind.

The Children of the East, welcomed their Father each day.
The Children of the South, best knew their Father’s warmth.
The Children of the West, danced to their Father’s music.
The Children of the North, grew distant from their Father.
Discovering in the shadows of their Father’s absence,
The cold side of a lonely Mother.

Building walls they turned inward,
Growing pale in their solitude.
Nearsighted through honed dexterity,
Pride swelling with the power of creation.
Linguistic palaces ascended to heaven,
Their father and mother subjugated by name.

They charted the distant stars.
They mapped the earth’s contours.
They mastered inferior races.
They worshiped themselves.
Fair skin easily seared,
By a father made sun.



A brown streak of smog
hangs above the horizon
like a skidmark in the sky;
an embarrassing stain left behind
on December’s crystalline-
blue perfection.