Until the next tonight

Until the next tonight

I sat as a friend to the groom in a black white tuxedo while the members of my gender

Looked the same and female abounded beauty

A best man I was to the would be groom

He was walking about with a friend no doubt

I saw them escape view

I went around to get a better view

With me around a corner to see what I could see

I could see him make an astounding mistake

Caught in the act with the bride’s jaw dropped open

She fled crying

I took after her in order to console her

But as she turned I was dead stopped in front of her face in such phenomenal attire

Beauty radiated her from head to toe and all she wore

I did what only I could and said on to her

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen

I want you to know that

Seconds dropped like hours and minutes like days

Between sound and nothing as we kissed

We spent what felt like years in each other’s brace and kiss

What was only a second she leapt through two doors

Doing her very best to be alright

I would depart to her embrace

And kissed on the head and said I love you so very much

Only to wake in the blink of eye

My Amelia was gone disappeared

I could not chase

I could not race

I would be modest and wrong to say

I want her back in my bed

In my arms but I dismay in her absence

Until  next night I will wait for her tonight

smiles

At all hours love and passion tear me outward

Ribcage widened in a terrible pain I yell out for the end to be near

In such metamorphosis my heart is revealed to pumping and gushing red and red more and more

For a warm bed for two and an endless supply of such heat

In solitude I deceive myself of joy

That cold silence would keep me warm on the battlefield of love

She lay waste to many a man and boy

Yet I return to her gaze and in the night she disappears to star and dust

I see her spread her twinkling face across the night sky

In reflection she smiles on me in the darkness

Forever more do I wish this night to ripple on through the ages

Until two heartbeats beat as one

Forever more I will no longer wish for the night but only her eyes that are the stars once smiling down upon me

Now smile on me day or night she smiles on me 

All see her except I

All can feel her except I

My heart beats a thousand pulses against my chest like a knocking that will not quit

In each burst against me is a face with lips I cannot taste

Skin I cannot touch trace with my fingertips

Eyes not piercing my body in goose bump after goose bump until I am one foot taller

When I fall to slumber

I see her and her again

I feel happiness in my heart

I feel her lips

Sensation after sensation in breaths inhaled and exhaled as our bodies race

A last I wake and she is no longer in my bed and all my days I wait for her to come and haunt my dreams

Mending a fence

Building a fence

On this day more than ever I am baffled by my loss into the depths

These mazes we run through in the dark and amazingly we come out the other end unscathed

Not I

These twists and turns have got me facing 4 walls of uncertainty

Unsure which holds happiness and love for me

Which holds freedom

Which holds anything at all

I am tirelessly exhausted by the stockpiling in my mind at the barriers of my conscious reality

All of it and no of it is happening at once

It is like building a fence while someone kicks over what you just did

With no progression at all

Trying to fix a fence while it is crippled at the same time

I chase

chase

We do a wonderful dance you and I

Where I pursue your chase

With you in the hlls by nigh and I still chase

And when your trickery lands me in the devil’s meadow

I still chase and when I grow weary and tired

I lie my head in places that otherwise be no comfort to me in a stranger’s bed intertwined

And then this stranger becomes a friend and then lover then wife and I in calcium starved bones to the chase I die on this nigh

In the streets tonight I chase

I chase

I chase

For lady poetry

I chase

Dream Sequence

I wondered to a land unreal but so real by my perspective where battle and love were one.  I a warrior led me to her arms and I woke as she disappeared from the reality of my slumber.  Then back to the visceral images of my mind where a wedding friends and I would find, and all of each other brought in two's except I. In a sneaky follow, my friends who were on opposite sides of the race met lips upon lips as they betrayed their true loves, and I followed one who was an beautiful as I had never seen with green eyes and brown locks so soft upon me. I said to her "you look so beautiful today" I walked to her and as she pressed through the doorway we met lips in front of everyone.  She smiled and then ran away crying from the crowd.  I stomped after her in a rush i had to say " I am sorry, I did not want to do that like that, I love you in fact" As I pressed my lips to her forehead and our hands intertwined, I woke with no one in my arms.

make love enacted

I think about words I say and how they stir in mind to be set on one thing
around this world going in the wrong direction
an epiphany hits me
what it is this life is about
distraction is the attraction
movies cinema television music and the fools
who spout biggotrous iggnorant stands on Trayvon Martin
what art is or isn't
I begin to ponder words for me and love is all i need to be distracted and retracted
into her and make love enacted

You and I

Everyone in the world today has only dreams of assimilation
to be just like the rest of hypocritical endoctronation just like the rest of the population
to forget you and I and try...try...try
To be that of an eye
what will i be
a lawyer
a doctor
or maybe a teacher of anthropology
it is not enough to be content with just enough
to get by in this world of who am I's
You must not fit into a box of stocks and socks
pulled on and used on all day
for one simple purpose
work and more work until nothing is left of you and i
so try...try....try
to remember what is important
the very most importance of important is intelligence
without her gentle push no one would have freed slaves
started freedom
knowing the world as you do today
did not come from trying to be all the same

Down the rabbit hole I go

I am so lost all the time and it is all I know.  Being lost is something that has been my life for so long, I do not know what I would do if I finally got published or had some sort of direction in my life.  I think if I made it in some way that I would just get lost again searching for something else.  I thought leaving the prison of university would set me free, but instead I was just transferred to the prison of my parent's home with no way out in sight.  Writing has become the biggest challenge for me with nothing new happening to me but my thoughts and ideas.  All I have are them, the idea of rebelling is something I hold on to like a last breath waiting to release it, in order to move on.  The idea of freedom is something I will never stop searching for but yet I am still wearing chains and an orange jump suit with numbers across my chest.   I do not even know why I write on here sometimes, it is a way for me to express myself, but with no one to say a word about it, it is like making a movie no one will see.  I wonder what is the point sometimes, even though it is therapeutic for me to write on here for whoever to see, I just do not know why I do anything anymore.  

Be love

Be love

Don’t be mad

Don’t be hate

Don’t be anything other than love

Love is warm in the cold summer nights lovers shroud themselves in

Be love not something else that may be other then you or I

Be love

To quell sorrow on the coming horizon

Do not be waiting

Darkness to cover you in a relentless storm

Be love that is the sun broken through the grey with yellow sunshine

Be love

Old writers

Old Writers

To the great writers of my soul

I write to you in doubt

I write to you searching

Burning for the inspiration you had

The experiences that spewed the most beautiful words from your mind

To have seen dean

To have heard cassady

The wild rumblings of mad men with the fruits of their insanity on their tongue

The crazed monologues running through your head

I am engulfed in a magical mystery

Where the villain is the nightmare of my incomplete ambitions

Lost dreams in my subconscious

Lost to the black hole of contemporary society

Suits and ties chasing me into the depths of my conformity

Cornering me in an alley surrounded by the nay-sayers

Who tell me to stop

Who reek of the dreams they laid to rest

I write to you for the hopes of wild fiery experience

I write to you in fear of missed chances to dance with her in endless time

I write to you because I burn for the page

The pages that are the autobiography of my soul

Sincerely the mAd PoEt

Just be drunk

Just be drunk

Images of time terrorize my nightmares

Melting unto an eternity of wishing

Hoping

Sitting

Losing

That always fleeting thing

Life

Time

Love

Always slipping into the realm of possibility

Shall I go or shall I stay

Shall I go on adventures or wither to dust upon an old man’s shelf

Waiting to be set upon the mantle

Victories of your youth

Well here and now the living, choose to live!

Where I am joined upon rooftops

Screaming for laughter

Groaning for love

Howling at the moon

As for the night to stay

Until the ends of time and

To those who wish to paint freedom

As to hang it upon their wall and never

Again gaze upon its appalling truth of conformity

As to be chained in the eternity of your soul to death

I raise my glass for the living

As to be drunk

Be drunk on women

Be drunk on mischief

Be drunk on the unknown

Be drunk

Just be drunk

Where the young free hipsters burn

Eyes peer from darkened street corners

Looking to make sure it is safe

Masks hide him from them

During the light of the day

He will stay in shadows

Their minds too narrow

For his soul is too grand for them

He runs too free

In a room without walls

Without ceilings

So ill keep running free

Like the nomads of the beginning

Hopeful of their presence

In the wild

Where the young free hipsters burn

D.I.Y

In all that I do every morning a mad scramble for stimulation leaves me blank
this zombie culture of disgust and wealth pushes me forward on the aesthetic
awoken by all my senses and others not know to man
this anaesthetized way of going happy and glowing
seems spliced in manipulated genes not legally done
taken up to the conveyor belt where i am told this is how i shall make it
shows me signs of mistook children to the spaces of the gears
i write these words as the free man thinker free born tinker of what is and what should be
in this i am a D.I.Y do it myselfer

Greed of man

The greed of man drives his obscenities

Infecting the population with lust for power

Lust for women

Poisonous toxins that permeate their beauty into darkness

His illusions of grandeur to blind him into an egotistical stooper that inebriates their souls to harm her

In mother earth he degrades

In female beauty he rapes

In humanity he breaks her

Relentless slumber

Lack of stimulation drives my mind to slumber

Where the devil lurks

Tempted by laziness and escape

Watching the tick tock of the old clock

Images of the yellow serpent floating down the black river

With my boots strapped on

With my thumb out

Invitations to strangers to warm these traveler’s bones

I dream a dream of my bag across my back with cannabis and cloth

To keep my travels at peace

I keep this dream on my tongue where I am engulfed in fleeing freedom

For this world bores me into a relentless slumber

Thereafter

I came through the city enticed

Drug days

Miserable afternoons

Love filled nights

I am only here for their amusement the play thing that makes them scream

Yelling in euphoric orgasmic Yes’s calling out to their God

Decibels pierce through walls vibrating off their bodies underneath my psychedelic umbrella

I lie in a protected psychotropic haze as they fade into the days through

Days to hours

Minutes to seconds

She fades to the infamous pages of my bed

Again and Again

I am the collateral damage to their selfish soul

For I yearn for the selfless soul to abound

To carry me beyond

Into transcendent metamorphosis doors

I stumble into the beautiful unknown

Habits

eloquence and intelligence have begun to dance around me
around and around they go lost to the unknown war raging in the cage locked up in my head
i do not know
walking in circles outside in the gravel roads hoping the answer will come from the clouds as they cover me
i keep going on and keeping on
nothing on my back nothing in my pockets
just nothing but my mind that does not quit like a habit i just cannot quit it

you and i

Slavery was to said to be over in the end of 1865 yet now more then ever they were proven to have lied
Evolution has shown to be the sleight of hand
that brings in false light
where man has been shrouded in camouflage of the eloquent delight
polite smiles dress evil men adorned in a thief's attire
Our master's haven't changed but redirected their eye
to loom gloom on you and i

Dead faces

I finally got to the point where I cannot pretend
I will not adorn masks and smile when I am red hot fiery anger that wont be extinguished nor will it be finished
I cannot count the seconds until this place is far behind because then I wont want to exist with all these fools who just come and go
I must not dream of moving beyond these falsely lit walls with magnificent colors of deceit upon them
If I were to do such, then I might leave
If I were to do that then what else might I do to be free
to be lifted from oppression
to be lifted from this bank that just cranks until you make what it takes
green paper and metallic coins with the face of the dead
upon which lies value over any such life without their praise

Lumber jack

Lumber jack

Hypocrisy chopping at thee

Like a mad surgeon hacking away pieces of me

One by one he decides what will go

I have no say on the deprivation of me

The cleaver man with all the clutter and tea

Going around fast in a wash cycle

Keeping all he trims and fiddles  in the back of me

In a box bitter and under a tree

Written in 18 languages no one will ever see

Because the lumber jack chopping it all down is free

man with the knife

Man with the knife

Freezing temperatures on these summer days

Keep me solid

Outside figures draped in shadows familiar grasp at me with talons

Cutting and pushing me with their sharp irreverent glass shattered to remake me

To lift me to their stomping grounds locked in boarding schools of their making

Put in brightly lit rooms that are dark to these eyes

Desirous of all things remembering the elders

Who sought to be commentators on life on strife on the man with the knife

Time for falling

Falling

Time

Ticks tocks to the chimes of the clock

Feet step and leap

Sprint and skips a beat

Beat

Beat to cheat

Cheat to longer feats

Beneath the ups and downs of that ticking and tocking

We seem to be falling

Seemingly perceive the detection and deception

That cannot be at your or my feet

Moving to unseen

Unmade greener pastures

Yet to have a home for me

Then why would it be me who is falling?

When my feet are calling for running to be made

Flights to be made

How can it be me who has to stay falling?

Mountains of man

Mountains of man

I have sat and sat in your chairs

I have read your books

I listened to your impostors of knowledge in a house of truth

Year after year I dwell in the dharma of man

Where he is awakened and educated in a building

That is no place

No place for a mind to grow so it rebels

No place where you can question their word

No place that allows the mind to paint the world in the brightest colors on the rainbow

All I asked was a challenge

Educate my mind

Do not ignore the truth

No, no embrace such a commodity that is the foundation for education and university

I only simply inquire truth and receive replies of subjugation

Now I shall become an avid seeker of such enlightenment

An artist of awakening

You shall see my pen cause flame to mind that turns the mountains of men to ash

Right or wrong?

Right or wrong?

Black and blue dandelions sprout bountifully

Through arid desert lands decorating the broken red clay

As my feet drag through the deep dark blue

In this dream world I have made through my addictions of my unfettered gluttonous desires

That I cannot say no to

I looked up inward to something deep in the sky

Sleeping on the stars as the moon cushions the hysterical madness my mind

Wasted words fallen on deaf ears

Sentences strung together to approve some selfish neuroses to always be right

Never allowed to let go

I shan’t waste my ink on the concerns of children who fuel petty tyrannical fires

I need a supplication in this dream

To tell me if I am right or wrong?

The chase

Feelings I seek

I toss and turn with my mind set to a course with one destination

Fixed on unmovable from

Without intent of escape

Her face set steadfast to the corner of 12^th and tyler

Memories pressed on me fresh

Dark rooms

Voices still dwell

Music still swells

Words I do implore

The place where her and I met

Locked in and naked on the floor

Intertwined and sore

I do adore

Her forever more

going through the motions

I am just here

Unfinished

Unmade

Unstarted

Floating

Drifting in a torrential trance

Undone

Moving without direction

Compass less and complacent

Neutral sadness

Without fallout

Without purpose

Stuck in a mad scientist’s nightmare induced by the finer things

Solitude not granted with the executioners at my back and yet I do not die

Yet I do not live

I am just here

Thing

Thing

I am just going

Going

Going

Over one huge unbelievable bulge over the west

Cold winters drooping their sparkler dims

From the moon and stars

Her beloved beauty

Voluptuous hips and plump bosom

Drops me flat

To gaze of admirability

Searching in my travels

For the thing

That thing

This thing

Eluding my fingertips for touch

Drifting away from sight

In chase I go to the frozen loneliness of the east

Falling for dreary love

So far into the gutter

In my travel’s far and wide

Never ending quest for…that thing

Which is not a thing at all, for it is unchained to belonging

Free from control

Where the existential mother says

That which is…is and which is not…is not

Sincerely The Mad Poet

To whom it may concern

God pointed forefinger straight at me

Go boy thou hence

Die for man

Go groan

Got moan

Go roll your bones alone

Wrapped up in the numbers of it all

That pulls and drulls apart

Not separate

From this

Gone from that

I am not him nor her

Coming in for temporary aid

Times of Pax Romana

Keep these tragic hands

Docile and soft

To write of tales of timid woe

None existent love

Sitting on the road

Swallowed up in the moon and the stars

Whose twinkling glean yearn for my undivided attention

Departed to see you soon

Goodbye to the road

Yours truly and mad

I say no!

I say no

They ask us to love them and love them some more

They have taken our identities from us but yet they want more

Our freedom

Our compassion

One day someone has to say enough is enough

Liberation fell on us with our first breaths

They say we must do it on our own

Groupings of individuals

Categorically placed in cages

Wings severed from flesh and bone

To go along to get along

Wear these clothes

Shave this

Exercise like this

Dance like this

Listen to that

Be a slave

Cut your hair

Stand up straight

Walk like that

Do this and do that

Go here and study what I say

Don’t smoke

Don’t fuck

Don’t love

How can they ask so much of us and give us little

I don’t know how they thought the forgotten would be silent

Well enough is enough

It is time for the silent to speak

Live!

Live

In all this rain pouring

I opened up inward to the lord

Whom I barely even believe

Believe that you are real

I use you in need of a supplication

Why

Why

Why

Am I not this and not that

What

What

What

Am I doing in this world filled with infinite regurgitation back to mamma

Where

Where

Where

Is that turning of the tables upon the horizon

Until then all of us

All we can do is live

Live over skies in Nepal

Live in alleys in San Francisco

Just live live live!

Common death of our love

Common death of our love

In finding the path that my feet just

Beat

Beat

Beat to the groove of notes and symbols

Too long

Too short

Not perfect

In arrogant youthful confidence

I see…me

In the immensity of it

Lips kissed

Hips pressed

The longness of the road

She just goes and goes

Infinite never ending beauty allures me

Tugging pulling on me so sweet

One of those that just is

No description would be chose right

Glimpses of her and I in the night making terrible amazing mistakes

Breathing heaving

Up and down

We tangle

We together will grow to find a better way

To never see the common death of our love

Honey

Simple needs

Nobody know what is going to happen to any of us

Except the fore lorn rags of time

At the end of each night where I lie

My head

Plump warm comforting acceptance

Safe in my bed

Dead in my head

High up in the chalice red

 The go boy dead in the road

On thou road I take theses hands

To write

To love

To moan

To groan

To fight all alone

I will live in gleeful bliss of the impending inevitability

Yet the road does not take me I travel her always

In the last pages of my adventures

I will go forth on this land

Bent crooked and stupidly

I will hug those who need me because I am pooh bear

With simple needs for honey 

No one dies alone

No one dies alone

Born alone and stupid

Angry boy

Go moan

Go groan on that road alone

With a thousand arms reaching

With their forefinger pointed straight at you

Bent up

Broken from those gentle hands soft

Up rooted by Dean Moriarty in my life through

Life through a scope

Escape

Running

On all that road going

Going

Going

With this epiphany laid upon this decaying mind

Bent to another a corner turned and gone fast

As I watch the stars dancing across the night sky

No one can do this road alone

Nobody

Nobody knows

The turning of tomorrow’s page

So boy don’t roll your bones alone

Being stubborn and stupid

Go forth and go

Go forth and go

Just go

Hand in hand with your summer’s delight

Supple sweet tasteful

I say would I not die alone

Fuck Oregon

I say this to any and all employers, politicians, news reporters, and who ever the fuck said that there are jobs to be had, your so full of shit it is not funny.  Labor work does not count for men and women with intelligence this country slowly is turning into pragmatic production lines working just to exist and not caring if they are pawns for rich corporations.  I am a man of intellect and decided I do not need a degree to validate myself or to empower me, because for me it is not empowerment but enslavement.  So I put my mind to writing and poetry because they are all that matters, and decided I would get a job doing something as long as to sustain myself and live in order to write.  Someone decided that being a dishwasher or some other food  service position required rigorous vetting, when you could have a monkey do that job and yet people are unemployed. In my home state of Oregon, people are homeless in unprecedented numbers along with the unemployed.  Why? Because corporations and employers need to vet dishwashers so intensely that people return to school just so they can get a job as dishwasher.

Seasons change

Seasons change

A river of impasse washes over me

Legs broken for time unknown

Pathways closed

Fire burnt out in so far as I have seen

Surrounded by the dreamless and the elderly

Forgotten passions dust blow in the wind decades past and slumber begins

Hibernation for winter

Snowy tundra coldness

Yet fires blaze in lands foreign

Engulfing waters not on surface but beneath lies embers still burning and autumn breaks in time for reopened roads and forgotten pastimes

Passions revealed to have never fallen to ash but lay dormant waiting for the snow to change

Words

Fall back on words

Grey clouds descend upon me in the brush

Where I lay

Nor her

Nor anyone comes adjacent from me

Just I

In laborless days

Penniless days

Filled with images of should be’s and do this’

Memorization comes upon my head but washes away

Compliance and conformity does not stick

Only what I am going to do’s and Fuck you’s

Words are my critiques of deplorable manifestations

Words are my rebellious articulations

Words are my rejection of label manufacturing and implementation

Man or Boy?

Men

I forgot about revolution and decided on revelations

Children’s choices

Men pretending disguising

Poverty takes more than names but manes

Moms to be broken along

Crooked intellectual gone on loan

Replaced by groans and moans

Wannabes and bums

Wanting to be men like me

Metal less men

Melting metal from men

Along this river bed

I lay my head

Seeing the footsteps led

By old new vagabonds dharmas true

From god and not

Theologically made up kings

Belief or not nature holds the bed where I shall rest

I will face tests that make me go mad from the men made from metal

Shining off the sun reflecting her beauty

Revealing hidden untreked paths and such is where I write from

Where I sit in time contemplative tomorrowing

Sitting presently awaiting truth from the silence of introverted inspections

Where I melt the metal of men

Yin or Yang or Both

Metaphysical paths

On the background of the sky

The stars sprinkle across

As the night eaters chew

Flying underneath the evenings eye

Intertwined lovers

Miss the blissful

Net of randomness that washes over them

Unseen hatchings lent to only sensations vibrations

Ripples in time

We step through

Strife and life

Wife husband

Single solitary

Fatherless or motherless children

If that pebble drape in a different slanted diagonal projection

Time may postpone deter previous ramifications

Where sorrow and blues follow others

Happiness and bright skies cover others

To see the wonder of positivity hidden in negativity pry open cans of change and possible metaphysical paths

I will wander until in order to commit to such a task

Parched

Unquenched

Pretty colors smiles

Laughing mocking

Granite countertops

Hardwoods

Fearful clones

Watching glamorized gladiatorial news

Stainless steel

Complacency

Change

Rotting away

Revolution

Muse less and immobilized thoughts

Gold cards and memberships to death receiving coupons for a little less

I sit starring

Teetering back and forth

Parched thirsty unquenched

Green skies

Green skies

I figured them

Ostentatious extravagant images

There is not much to their rudimentary composition of symbols in speech and tongue

Obedient conformity surrendered

Happiness

Laughter

Sensations tied to perceptual dollars things stuff

Good for nothings

That carry strings over you to dance

Hanging high above

Step left and step right

Arms thrown about

Back bent over

Unwilling to see the sky green only blue

Just because they were told to

Unrelenting

Unrelenting

Blinded ocular spectrums

Burned by

Corneal destruction

From flat surfaces

Copied replicated duplicated

Similar thinks

Locked up in this Klink

Barred from intellectual elevation

Shunned by its very lack of existence

Mind shattered to two

Linked by opposing perceptions

Seen freedom inside and on the outside

Beautiful flowers lie out of reach by me

Fresh air lost to my olfactory receptors that no longer no fresh oxidation

So I carry a bottle of orality close to me

Intellect chosen to standing and unrelenting

Glass figurines

Corner to corner

Hands far away

Pulled in by

What they would kill thy

Luxurious whimperings

Children clothed disguised in their father’s clothes

In illusions of grandeur

Pedestal raised high with toes dangling 

Conceptual paradigms leaders thought to be

Tiny tyrants clothed in polite diplomacy

Show their badge in which they honor

Of talons and empty minds

Gone does their brain go

Washed over a million times

Filling catacombs with dust and mold

Angry greed ridden junkies for power

Who grabble for glass figurines

Moved like toys to the corner

Needed

Necessity

Cowardice

Compliance

Convergent cognitive collectives

Cool fools

Cats cruel

Crude communications

Carry corrective resuscitation

To revitalize unintelligible fools destined for replication

Scraps of truth

Scraps of truth

Sitting Starving

Unquenched thirst

Miss stimulation from their think

Protuberant assimilation

From theses petty tyrants

Who extort me for their Klink

Family trees

Christmas dinners

Smiling untrue

Where I go I choose

Not for others who plead greed

Only for the scraps that erupt my impoverished mind