Where do i start
What can I do
The world is empty
And then there's you

Like a fire in the night
quickly doused by rain
You sense my every dream
Drown my sorrow with my pain

You heard it

May you always seek perfection
May the world circle that image of you
And deny the final product
Drown the fight from your fists
And please, go away

stfu

Forget the abandon
Cast it swiftly to the wind
Let it carry the weight you've collected
And when it knocks, let it in

There's a hero in you boy
a graveyard artist
just shut the fuck up
and dont think too hard

You came here to pay respect
but you dont even know what that is
You couldnt find your way home
without some bullshit leading you

Id say you trust too much, this life,
but your so fucking incompetant
youd wear it as a badge
to show how fucking cool you are

I get it brother
We're in it together
its you or me and you are you
so we'll always be at odds

and for me, thats ok
you be the hero
thats fine
ill be here, writing

Passe

It's coming now, sooner than you think
Like the cool wind before the thunder
It has rolled upon you
Now you can't say stop
You can't do that now
That time has passed
You said it'll be this way
And you shunned the ones who wished otherwise
But the cards are down
The hand's revealed
And the house always wins
A valiant effort we will say
Fought until the very end
But really we're just glad it's not us
Because that rock is far too large to carry
And it suited you well
And you handled it well
And your stronger and better and blah blah blah
And you'll have a moment
This moment
But it's fleeting and we just can't dwell on it
So, bad luck, but we will be here in your name
For as long as anyone reminds us
Until then, where's my drink?

Forward

The path forward is yours

It's long, has many detours,

and orbits some vast space of resentment

There is no end to it

It's likely unfulfilling

And, always, you will end up where you began.

Minutes

The charlatan moves to bury his sleeve
Bloodsoaked and miserable
In the shallow grave dug earlier in the day
The excessive panting and occasional waning
Of the circling sawmill workers
Swan deeply with his fiddle

This place, fixed, forever still
In his speech will remain a wound
Showing itself occasionally
In certain lighting, and with the appropriate victims
An ugly, unburyable thing

It's Almost Time

The countdowns begun
The ignitions lit
At the edge of the diving board
It's almost time

5 seconds till the beep
There goes the last commercial break
10 minutes to clock out
It's almost time

Feet are sturdy enough now
Patch should hold
The space heater was turned off
 It's almost time

He's cruising on the furniture
The bubbles are forming on the top
The realization begging a grin
It's almost time

The wave is cresting
The silence is deafening
The pain is pleasure
It's almost time

Me

Make me famous 

Make me famous

Make me famous

I cant quit

Never gonna

Don't wanna

Give me money

Give me money

Can't you see me

Don't you see me

Just be me 

Feel me, want me 

You are me

Just tell me 

Who you need 

Who you want

And I'll be me

Show off

Watch me! Watch me!

Wherever i go,

see me laugh

see me eat

see me sad 

see me? no.

Title

Where have you gone
what are you doing
and how could my fledgling be here
where the rocks never cease their thrashing
and Edith with golden hair
they are the thunder
crashing down my staircase
screaming of love divine
where books never need of mending
from my armchair on the Rhine
I can tolerate the spending
obfuscate the wind
but of my heart and love unending
you last I have made my friend.

Sleeping in

I just can't do it

You're out of my reach

Their calling for rain

I'm comfortable

It's too cold

I'm not hungry

Please shut up

Creatures Hum

Mr Whiskers takes a walk

and talks a kind of funny talk

to himself so no one hears

about himself and all his fears

He walks until he stops to tie

the shoestring flopping side to side

to find his toenails haven't stretched 

since his last walk with the Elephant

Mr Elephant sings his songs

though no one ever sings along

and no one ever writes him back

or cares about his aching back

but that won't stop him from resending

that won't stop his heart from mending

or the necks that he'll be bending 

when the Crocodile comes a trilling

Mr Croc devours his snacks

Chews barbed wire just like that

scares the children with his tail

Gets locked up and then makes bail

But hes sensitive and kind the most

to him without a spine to boast

For his friend his heart would give the most

The slimey, snotty Snail

Mr Snail runs his brigade

without a snivel or charade

commanding creatures far and wide

to march along his noble side

Yet before he goes to sleep each night

before the last flicker of his light

he checks the corners, checks the halls

for signs of salt and know-it-alls.

Mountain Morning

Travelled footsteps parade the path
Soaked to the bone with dew
The cloudlit serenade of tumbling stones
Reveal the fresh warm earth
Untouched since last sun.
Swelling tides of heavy air
Nudge the mountain closer to the feet
The sun breaks the ghost haze
Taking back the water it gave in absence.

Some Ship

A thousand miles on a midnight cruise
My lover, my wife, and my windswept muse.
They conjure the the eager
The youthful, naive,
Spirit I've sold to some liquid dream

Where one helps me write
The other slowly shreds
The filaments of my mind
The loving daily dread.

This ship it sails
Unabashed through every storm
Showing not on the bow
The wretched words which scorn.

Lost

She looked at me

I took her hand

In one moment, forever,

We were the sand.

Warm and drowsy 

Lapping the land

Consumed by water

An endless stand

Against lovers forgiven

and moments lost

For time remembered

For lives cost

Until at last

you were caught 

By lead and hatred

and meaningless loss.

To thine own Self

You don't need to lose your mind to find yourself. 

Thin, the castle walls that fall won't reveal some

Notch upon the shelf.  Breaching, shadowed, seldom

worn, coughing, spitting, hollowed, torn words embraced

by soldiered breath wraught your eagled burdened breadth,

Can't be used to self describe. For the patient shallow stride

of the ghost by summers morn in the dew and down reborn,

the distraught valleys of your spine the gaunt and feeble

mallow mind, feeding forlourn naive crypts buried. Hidden

tomb unspent. Named forgotten 

minds relent is all corroded, cyanide beseeched unloaded 

 by the tide washing, wailing whales upended, seeking 

names though names unended can never relish

in the the splendor of one who's found themself.

The Relentless

You are the spring
The flower
the blossom
you grow and bloom
like everything
you are my summer night
lit smile by candle light
the perfect blend of oak and pine
june bug pants
ice cream shorts
heart a patch over mine

Darling

There you are

Still smiling

Even in slumber

Metling my heart

Experience

Guided thoughts,

Repeated words,

Endless time got me here.

Rosy, fast-moving glints

Of mellowed nostalgia,

Best left discarded,

Remain somehow

After all this rain.

It's there, a faint film

Right around the edges

That just can't seem to be cleaned off,

It's comforting.

A slow sip

Marking the end of a long week.

A train somewhere

Out in the impenetrable night,

Calming us.

But like all experiences

We are left marred 

More imperfect than before

More human.

Fame

Broken apart 

Like a cloud in the wind,

When the crowd chants for more

The glass life begins.

The sand-torn corners

Where those monsters did hide

Are now burnt by the sun

And beaten by the tide.

That stammering voice

Spilling out of your lips

Is now amplified, eternally,

For clowns and critics.

Traded for solace 

The waves never stop

That lonesome lighthouse 

A new tourist spot. 

It's the life that you've chosen

You mustn't complain,

For you may sink and drown in it

Turning back into rain.