Sorry, I am… really that’s not what I want to do. I want to do only what you’d like, for you…

But who?


I’m sorry, there is no though
those… are just nothing words, clothes perhaps cloaks
mind; wash, launder, fold
what were we told               I forget, it makes — no sense
anyway, it was lent by somebody I never met
some long ago gone ghostly, mirage
drifting waves, enslave so free
the proud, the meek, the stupid, the sleek
all see

But I am not happy, nor sad. I cannot pinpoint the point of my view
skewed, relativity blue shadows dance black, horizon cities backlight planets, they scan
fuse, in twos a school of empty halls in red brick large
like earth become mars, bars different stars of many colors though still, the same
like each new sun light rays burning come

Is… never won

Love, and pain showering; rains of splitting convergence came, undefinable flames dance rearrange
games… I think, not
a lot, they swirl in floating pots which hang from the rafters so high
my word…
tall spilling urns
drench the floor, which turn
so strange, I never seem to fall — or stop, lives bursting pop
I will see in the days, the hours retire
lay down in the night
feel something, a risen spire small space in the eyes — I begin to inquire
a soft intro, or outtro; seeker unmoving — spirals of fire
then, soft strings vibrate
from nowhere, a heat of shimmering sheets
a golden lyre

Held close, those wire

God, A Child


God, you remember…

I know you do

So why, have you taken it all away?



Empty plates, hollow dates

Contrived smiles, waiting while

We ate, and drank

Smoked, and spake

Of things, we knew not true

A file, coursing nile


Is the smile

I saw, one day while sitting

Doing nothing; but gaze long, at the moon

Dear noon

You lied, it’s fine

Keep time

I lost, all mine

A child



If you only knew, you’d rush over and embrace me
But you don’t, you never will
So nor will I
Is where we cannot find
I find
But why
I dont know
It’s a slow, drifting, dying fade
The women, they recede into shadows said
As they cry
The circle died, and confuse
A rising mew
Morning dew fall upon the homeless, glowing
Suffering new, said
I do
But who
The empty dress hollow in the noon sun, dry
Why, we all asked why
As they walk away
The turns of the day
And sky, so fine
Like time, you cannot see
The we, of us, and I
Remember those time though
In dreams, we fly
A lonely, rising

Fishers, Of Men

dream_e030cdafb9 (3)

Do not be kind, it is a pretense.

Hug a fish drowning in air.

Throw it back dead, or to be eaten as it lay stunned.

Sail home, and buy some in the market.


Tiki torches, blood sunsets limbo under a dripping lance.

A beach of hel, the Bermuda shorts wearing devils— dance.

Watch cloven hoofed violence, prance.

As the books are burned, the tanks advance.

Library, Large

will-ferrell-beastie-boys (3)

Hello again…

I’m at the NY public library now. All I have for I.D  is my passport and a pool identification card from my previous condo with my street address on the front and the mailing address of the association on the back. After wandering around  wasting calories going up and down large marble steps I finally got a temporary library I.D. (good for 3 months) and now, here I am.

Everyone was very polite and helpful, especially the security guard who walked me over to where I needed to go.

I’m smoking a bit more out of boredom, but drinking plenty of water. The Bronx is nice, however it  was getting a bit hot and stuffy in the noon time sun when all the hawkers/street commentators are out in full force; Manhattan seemed like a good destination till I return to my place of residence for dinner tonight— and an early evening with the Friars. Very nice folk from all over, dressed a bit like the Maestors in Game Of Thrones.

I got some sunglasses (yes, they’re cheap ones) as it just seemed extremely necessary for some reason to have them. If you’ve been in the city down on your luck I think you’ll understand this, but then you’d probably understand anyway— I see lots of people wearing them.

My skinny, pink floyd t-shirt  wearing ripped jean visage has gone over well in the Bronx so far. I had a wonderful meal of fried fish & rice/beans at a little place like you won’t find upstate. I intend to be a regular there.

And yes I can handle myself, eating lunch at my little place there some guy strangely asked me “You don’t really want to finish that, do ya?” except it wasn’t really posed in the form of a question. I smiled a crooked smile and chuckled, he flashed a huge grin then skipped away… Ah, nice.

I suppose this trip is actually good for my restless nature. I am learning to stay in one place longer, as going anywhere is a serious pain in the ass.   Also…



PS: I suppose I shall have to seek a job soon, hmm..

PSS: This computer  has very soft keys, a slow mouse/cursor, etc… Please excuse the typos

PSSS: That’s it for today, tata!

Quiet Thunder


A simple bed
Eat when fed
Talk to Fred

Walking, looking…

How am I led
By the eyes, my head
The heart, we said

But whose
I wondered
There is only, one

A voice quiet…

Ah… Yes
Deep, under

The Bends, Mind Lens


-The Bends, Mind Lens-

Timelessness is strange, remembering it…

Because it is not a memory, it can’t be.

Still— it hovers like a cloud; a thinning cloud ever dissipating, so enlarging.

And that is all it is, rather is-not.

It is like nothing, nothing you can imagine if you cannot imagine it; now. 

You cannot imagine now, it is— now.

So why, then?

You will, you do, but not… Yet— however that does not matter, this is timeless.

Timelessness is strange like that, to us.

You will see, I suppose.

What else could you do? You do nothing, like a sea…

Seeing— you do not know what you see, yet still… You see.

It does not lessen anything, it does not increase it.

It rise and fall; a wave of heart beats, hovering in the clear stillness it does proceed. Fading and appearing, it is the same light— always.

The clear time of your mind, the invisible heart.

Living, dying— art.

It needs no name, being.

Do not worry, you can go — nowhere.

It is different, but this difference is the familiarity of an undefinable awareness which is not based on anything, but itself— which happens to be everything & nothing, which is something else altogether…

All I can say about such a non-state is, this.

It is the point which contains all point(s).

What would such a point be like?

It is no different from any of the, other points…

What is size or time to such a point? To any of them?

This is the memory, of a moment…

Not any different, except that it exists in timelessness as non-existent; existence.

It is just another point, but somehow this point sees, it is a point— a moment.

I guess this is all I can say about it, there is no way to make a point.

It is all there is.


raft 32

Floating times expanding lines which never grow or move
The see what flow a glow of know, iridescent boats
Full of beings they open wings in time, all you need is light
Need nothing, when has it never not been here
Ever, sever constraints of time
Mind, just a sign
Of to come deep
Bottomless one, creatures of quiet
Emerge from the sun
Looking… so strange; a pain
Wonder, joy all these ways we enjoy

Toys, strew on strange moving floors
Watch the patterns, they crawl
Transforming seas
Everything, is the same
This is all, within— all

You, cannot do nothing
So… let’s take us

Is, Dawn

The Hall Of Eye — Moment, Less, Sight

dream_b024524388-2 (2)

But… you don’t understand, it’s wrong
It is
I do not know, although it is something between us
What is it
It’s wrong, still, at the same time right
Time, the unborn speed of seeing
A moment, less, sight
So full of time, light
How do you know?
How can I not
Where have we gone, how far have we have fallen
Weather, comes & goes
Even scientists say, we’ll never know
Yet, here we go

I will be here
It all is so clear, but still turning
Revolving door, seek opening
More, learning
Lay down, the floor unfolding soar
Water, burning
I say
A glowing haze
Stars blink, and fade
No… way

Yes, k

Passing Ones, Come


It all end up on the ground
From which forth it is sprung
Deep space in the earth
Clear nothing this come
Twirling, spinning thoughts
The heart of the sun
Underneath all, a river does run
Heartbeats in the sky
Rhythmic drum
A stillness of none
Quiet, I am ever here
Passing ones
I can never sleep, or awaken
Night & day
Is come


bluesea (2)

-Beck- Cycle, Morning


A deflating ocean, moving not motion
small vial of quotient
a falling, notion
collapsing whys
breathing skies
eternal eye
mind, is risen
this, I sea
no division

cascading rhythm
passing cosmic, melting schism
eon of the wizard

End of the lizard

Look! -Eyes V.2-

dream_029cd281b5-2 (2)


You can crush me, you can beat me
You can drown me in wine
You trample I in mud,  so bury alive
I will never cease this, no never
I ride


Here, look!
Come close
Close, errr

I’ll show…

Look wells deep — eternal

Look into my…



Previous: Eyes

Hardness, Is Clear

dream_06d60b49a2 (1)

Being a poet is hard, not being what you are
Is harder

Look around…




Like all unemployed writers I am in need of support, in more ways than one. If you can, please let me know at

Probably a fools quest, but this never stopped me before… After all, here I am.

Other, Space Cover


We do not die to this world, we die to ourselves
Wake, as each other
Dream, past future— stutters

The world, twin brother
The moon, mother
The sun, father
Space, empty covers

You are
No other



dream_894084ccab (3)

You can crush me, you can beat me
You can drown me in wine
You can trample me in mud, even bury alive
You will never cease me, no never

Here… come close
I’ll say, why

Look, look well deep
Look into these…

Possessions, Lie


Possession has possessed us we seek nothing now
a mirror speaking backwards blood soaked heavy chain, eyes
tell me what i want
here is source, the vine

crush, twist, squeeze
thrown to the ground; trample, blind
emulate the possessive, shouting words
wise unkind


dream_f362ac9a58 (1)

See a line of prisoners walk backwards in time, eyes downcast
perched on stiff iron spine

signs, looks; no one speaks, no one cries
no one asks questions, they repeat the same whine

Woe, so…  keep your hands off of mines
Sleep, rise, eat
The lonely cell is all mine

Pictures around of previous lives
cloth laid on concrete
small thick windows align
pale sad rays limp through, drift slowly


You cannot escape, no never
it’s fine
where would you go fool
all the streets lead, there

So why?

Plains Of Mound, Dome Town

newgrange (2)

One type tend to fall in a rut
The other tend more to beat themselves up
A long body reach, slipping wisp
Swirling cups

To reach down find is up
No sense I have found
Such things go around
And round, god dressed as a clown
Speaking lips make no sound
As the sky touch the ground
Worlds of being, lost and found
Plains of circular mound
Underneath domed glass towns
Sparkles rise laugh, sing, now
As eyes opening, crown
Draw existence in a spot
The endless
Not,       dot

Glory Tainted— Space Malls Close In Fall


Fools doom souls in pointless toils waist deep in sucking, sinking

Oily curses fling splatter falses, causes, moaning expander mosses
Losses, toss fishmen dying in the rotating stunner disc
Suns, of sons riding tides eons high
I can only sigh, I don’t even ask why
I know, I have seen these things though darkly and far
Like heart breaks of distant stars
They call, please
I fall
No, all just all
Say nothing but looking so pale
Faces in clear, spaces
Creations so tall
Neverland mall
Soul playing see saws
Glory tainted

Two Of Q


Little atoms dart slow, little looping magnets swing low
Begin, my hazing rays inflame days in the caves of waves
Desolate bloom desert flames enrage and quiet soon, blue slipping drip eye
Moons, subsume deep spinning looms engorging tombs expand as room
My, my, my i said it was a fool who step onto waters in the dark light so cool
Zoom, screaming speed shatter mind watery flues open like doom
Come here, i am you
See these eyes as they drool
Never, new
Never,        knew

Psychic  loon



Golden dusked drapes my hearts arms are dust, grasping lusts
     must, i rust so slow as lava core white dying coal
        goals, roll as told what martian is seeping mind dregs
         dangling legs many pairs scurry fair, stepping lairs
           tears, shares, wares, death dares
            scare, this behemoth of finely woven time hairs
              haystacks breathe way-erd
                see ya theres


Loon River

newm (2)

Feeling poetic, I know not where it comes

A sudden rising sun, plunging moon
Dionysian swoons, a pale drop
Screaming loons

Glimmer river
Of crystal blue sand dune
Clear enlightening, empty foam noons

Pass soon
Rotating spheres speak floating glyph language, tunes
Seeking who is who, slipping dream rooms

Tell me, come closer
I cannot said the image
Mirrors never really, move

Though… I do

Reveal, Us

7deb98cc1a507c1e7d9f517f92948c86 (2).jpg~

If you can lose someone by speaking your truth.

Then you have found another.

Whether these things are true or not, they always reveal it…


Yes, and No

There is no truth, only what it reveals— us

However even this is not the truth, this— changes

How does it change, How do you change?

How does the world turn?

Slowly, but quickly

How do you live & die?

Quickly, but slowly

Truly nothing is revealed, it is only a swirling cloud




Previous: The Truth, Of Truth


Mara’s Call


We are creating the myths of the future, now
We are the gods
Of the past

Mara, show yourself…
I call your name, you appear
I need call no one
We, are here

We have, come

Law Giver, Soul Taker


I saw a movie last night, Saddam Hussein was speaking with pride of Iraq being the place where the first laws were made. Others have expressed similar sentiments, I’m sure.

So I wonder…

Why are we not ashamed we needed to make them in the first place?

Can a person, be illegal?

A human, an alien?

It seems, we no longer recognize our brothers…

So who are we then?

Alone, with ourselves.



Clearly Sitting


Sitting, one sees it is not sitting
but, going nowhere
you cannot move
there is no space
no place
being so
one is everywhere
you need not go
distance is only flow
how far are you willing not to go
the other, do not move
they exist now, as space
we are moving through their stillness, clarity
creating mind as we go
the old ones sat until their bones melted into the ground
we need not do this
let the world move around you
moving in a dream, one feels heavy

Do not move, see
all, has come to me

Orbital Stroll

extraterrestrial (1)

keep walking, keep walking, walking
if you stop the world sucks you in
makes you, forget
forget what
Oh, my
what have i done
have i stopped, am i walking
what am i thinking
a pause, now all is sinking
and draws my seeing in swirls, familiar yet sordid
soft fuzzy curls
eyes made of heavy black shiny, pearls
they do not stare, but turn
a face of transforming lines, look away
it is still, there in the mind
eyes are closed but i still see, thoughts run wild
orbiting webs entangle, the free
see thyself as thee
now, past me

Dis, Mind

dream_fbe97d1948 (1)

Dishes of dis beneath fountains of mist

Pouring liquid slowly, slip

Down, in long drops

Revolving hoops, patterns, cups

Is it mist or liquid, my hand pass through both

Mind is diffusing existence just, is

So I play with such


Boston— Cycles

dream_d13e2e70a8 (2)

A summer Boston night on Symphony, a small row bar tucked in between two apartment buildings had survived. Christmas lights were strung on the outside awning, open to the street an amber light crossed the sidewalk. Groups of people sat on the steps to apartment buildings and smoked. Inside I drank a huge Mai Tai in a goblet, cosmic blue. I don’t keep count.

I was there with a few friends, my first summer away at college I was 23 but felt like I had been there for years. I had no real worries though it often felt that something was amiss; the past animated my movements in strange ways and moments. What was I creating, it never crossed my mind.

Life was different then somehow, it seems like every few years the atmosphere changes things are replaced, like a body maybe. I have faith in cycles, new must come from somewhere— I don’t know that I have ever truly felt death, perhaps it is a myth but no nobody says this. Whatever…

My friend Josh was hanging around a table with a few people I didn’t recognize. 

Josh says “Hey, Jim! C’mere… Meet somebody, friend of mine. Well… friend of a friend”

I walked the 3 feet from the bar to the table behind me to my right. A small woman sat there with another group of people. I looked at her and nodded my head hello while thinking for a moment…

“You want a drink?”

Quietly, with a brief eye contact and little smile “Sure, Amstel thank you”

“K, be right back”


(rough draft, brainstorm)

Functions, Of Gears

dream_d14aee3453 (2)



Certainly we are.

How do we function, & why?

What is our function?

What does it make, ok?

Then why isn’t it?

And for whom is it?


We know what is functioning, it has been running a long time…

If only those damn gears would shut up…





Open Eye

dream_0bed5fdf35 (3)

All of this is life, all of this is death, all of this is mind, all of this is nothing…

All of this, is this


The distorting lens of size, relativity, being -itself

Obscure this from us

However it is only a lens, a clear bubble

Nothing, special


Now, close your eyes

Now open, them…

Bidden Lives — Dive

dream_2043e3a7ca (1)

What I’ve seen in days like dreams, and dreams like endless age
rotting teeth, flying lights, people — in rooms
a falling, deep sea kite
the color of time is clear murky ice
dripping amber syrup, spice
brush the floor lay down now, lay down more
i move fast in fevers & growing steps a quest, please help
relentlessly enlarging heads
brain full of uhf
a bounding plateau, a cloth is laid
underneath nothing, from the corners — emerging shades
poke up from within many points, blades
i bid, neither take nor give
put reality through a sieve
straining buckets of love, this
the ground is covered
though it is fine the same lines
a fountain of extruding lives
watch all the birds, all together they dive
then rise
birds do not die they know nothing but sky, and ground

Diving, or bound



Receding Mes

Can? I walk over there I don’t know
although it move towards me as i think it, so
hello there, i know not how i came
oh… where?

It’s always a surprise, always
a strange rise, forgetting lines
inclined, they reach as time
poor finds, in endless mind
grow rich eves, a dream
feel reality, have you seen it lean
slowly evaporating, recondensing — Scenes
left in receding pools, they stare
waiting for me

Drift, over there


dream_2a8637a446 (2)

What you must understand, someone said…
what you must understand
someone, said
who, why when what was said, i said, i says wavy ways falling through trapdoor hearts of the sun, caves
he raved, like suns of blooming day
enclave, please enter round the pole on the way to the couch no center
central stare brain conditioning everything see eyes, they are listening
still, see the crystal space webs
so you see they are nobody, just you

I miss them though day is long night enter slowly as star shining lawns
along, the waves a rhythm
reach out your hand
be still, them
bypass nothing, all is being
feel deep swirling wells
hear bells singing
landscape dwells, sun hails

A seeing

Brokedown Palace 72′

People Therapy, Iris Couches



Psycho-ologist: So Doc, how are you feeling today?

Doc: You know…. we are surrounded by crazy people, right?

Psycho-ologist: Umm, well…. what do you mean?


Doc: I am a mirror, a clear mirror… so of course, I become foggy sometimes.

Psycho-ologist: Umm, well… what do you, mean?

Doc: Nothing, next question— please.

Psycho-ologist: How do you feel about…


Doc: Excuse me…

Psycho-ologist: Oh, yes?

Doc: Where do you come from…

Psycho-ologist: Um, well… Neurostar City, Imagist Sector

Doc: Hmm, what do you mean?



Previous: People Therapy— A Mirror Is, Two


Klaxon Blaze Effervescence

il_fullxfull-354315779_aa6q (2)

Lockjaw junkers sunken under asunder buried in plunder swimming glow plankton, wonder…

Please, repeat the conversation for a moment i was pavement, fast forward record
please save… them
caves bend twilighting ends, running rivers of my head
fall throes they say I sow, but no
we all… flow

Alba Longa


Certain deans lean in hallways clean the doorways flapping and windows winding slow in teams
Chaos en majestic haze, so clear though you could stay forever and not even    know it

Sending — receiving dash dash line see the punched print out fall through the hol

But what is contained within information, what colors the head of a pin I wonder as I fumble under fanning recollection, collections in time
call this… mind

It is strange when everything become sign, in waving line
even those what we see with, eyes
see eyes
waking up in two places is a moment unreal, it leave spaces
as fine drifting lace days
mind a cloud, a many face say



People Therapy— A Mirror Is, Two

dream_2ed83466d5 (6)


Psycho-ologist: So Doc, how are you feeling today?

Doc: You know…. we are surrounded by crazy people, right?

Psycho-ologist: Umm, well…. what do you mean?


Doc: I am a mirror, a clear mirror… so of course, I become foggy sometimes.

Psycho-ologist: Umm, well… what do you, mean?

Doc: Nothing, next question— please.

Psycho-ologist: How do you feel about…



Previous: People Therapy

A Draining Pour, Wine Spilling Floors

ethiopia-tree (2)

~Zenzues writes~

Man drank, and forgot something
So he drank again, the next day
to try and remember it
he did
then he forgot it, again

Now, forget to forget
and you will need to drink
no more
of these, days


61009_marshmallowgherkin_deep-space (3)

Is done is spun for what was true, time fluxing tars wander far I did not know
I knew, now something cool softly dripping,      sparkle — through

as rainbow dew, ripple blue brews drunk by fools in late September
a twisting center of trap doors, enter
held but bending, ah… waves are sending in twos
elephants fit on small spinning stools
a view — of somewheres I all once knew, a rising tide of fast coursing rivers
fall light,                                   from a height


I do


Row, row… deep undertow


It Is, You Know it— Yet, You Do Not. Clearly


This thing, between us.

The looks we make, when one speaks who does not bite their tongue.

Oh, my.

How could they?

Who are, you?

In those moments nobody sees.

The bathroom, dreams, the empty spaces of death.

Why do you pretend?

What are you afraid of, words…

And what they say, about— you.

Yet children & dogs, see all.

Who is watching, that you must contort your soul so?

Madness, it is…

Know this, lizard monkey ying-yang.

It is coming, as lightspeed in a movie…

You cannot hide, forever.

Forever, is always here.

It is coming, there.