Sometimes

sometimes I want to go down
into another town
and just sit around for awhile
and wonder what will happen
if I just happen to
be there
would you even care
if I was stuck in
a place that I
found in my
own mind
why
does it really matter
I sometimes want to try
to think of a story
that I can dance in
that I can do
something in
anything, I’m honestly
not really picky
I’ll just do whatever
happens to
be there
would you even care
if there are boxes
with lists about us
telling things
details
of dreams
or fantasies
happenings
sometimes we go somewhere else
and don’t even exist anymore
is that what we dream of
will I still have
an address
can you reach me
in this mess

in the end

in the end
the soul appears
before a world
perfectly clear
with eyes that see
and ears that hear
a thousand angels
drawing near
their joyous laughter
fills the sky
we are “us”
no longer “I”
and to the heavens
all ascend
a new beginning
in the end

spilling seeds

did you forget his name
already they all
become the same
why even learn
if it’s such a struggle
not to burn
why even turn
when the same way
is just too easy
so keep going
is it personal treason
to keep blowing
for no other reason
than to take the seeds
and hold them dear
as no one holds
the ones already here

words like rain

tearing through me
are words
I can’t even hear
or see coming
holding out hands to
take me down
to take us all
around the town
don’t look
in a certain book
to see if this is real
look inside yourself and feel
the earth reach
with arms up to the sky
the wind knows
every word is a lie
to live you must die
to smile you must cry
but words only sound like rain
coming and going
down the drain

bleeding / black holes

“bleeding”

what have you got to show
for it
for yourself
if anything
why show it
why bleed for anyone

halfway there
and stopping
too soon
you fool
just keep going
just be there



“black holes”

eyes
those holes
black holes
never know
when you go there
who is calling to me
who is being me
am I even myself
selfless or selfishly
seeing all things
as myself
through eyes
becoming black holes

the feel box

is it real only to you
is reality
a thing we choose
or sit right down
beside the snake
sit down and just
wait
just wait
for the turning tune
the next phase
of the moon
is it really too soon
to show
to be
to know
to see
a change in me
all these strange things
following
calling
holding on
falling
down so many wells
just wonder if I
can really tell
if it’s real
if we’re healing
completely feeling
anything

both sides are

claw?
gnaw?
Saw?
it freaked
me out
shout?
spout?
spraying like
that
we sat
begat?
no, not
that
wanting
and learning
the curse of
yearning
burning?
of course
so easy to tell
there is no Heaven
without a Hell

The Underworld

The Underworld
the sunless world of the Dead
is truly the deep sleep
in the blinking eye
on the line between
the land and the sky

The Underworld
deep in the earth
we are the seed
spread in the dirt
yes, death is like sex
maybe this I can see
I always return
to the place I can be
and I always can be
eventually

the Earth is Mother
there is no other
The Fire of the Sun
is the Paternal one
the stars and galaxies
extended families
through so many lenses
I begin to see
that I am you
and you are me

Naming the Underworld
“Heaven” or “Hell”
is a trick of duality
unholy in itself
in every day
the Spirit does say
that I am always here
in some sort of way

The Underworld
is not a place to fear
even night becomes day
every nightmare goes away
every dream will find its way
every voice will have its say
all the storms will fade
all the eyes that close will open
lies will disappear
even fear
and lo! Behold!
All the People will see
In the Underworld I realize
I Am Everybody
and truly hear
I Am always Here

always alright

you already know
almost all I can say
you already follow
the way
streets lined with light
and a feeling
that’s true
that everything’s
right
you already know
how to play
it’s the same thing
as to pray
close your eyes
and night
becomes day
you know everything
is okay

like a sword

It always comes around
the question
in form of sound
when truly said it’s found
in the air
in the head
in the ground
who are you
who am I
the mirror becomes the eye
and the word
it’s absurd
haven’t you heard
the truth can’t exist
without lies