New written words: Fresh from these finger tips

Sloppy for me

Your my own succubus with a personal touch,

with your cheap aviator sunglasses,

that you claim are Ray-Bans,

Things that you say are twisted white lies,

that tiptoe out of your mouth,

you claim that you've tried to keep your lips shut,

I think that next time I'll hand you a pair of vise grips,

or some needle and thread,

and you can sew that incompetent hole shut,

I want to be with you,

if only to touch and your easiness on my eyes,

your pale cool skin,day,

Like a warm winter

your coolness is what intrigued me to start,

but with every sentence your fumble together I start to lose hope,

drop a line in the lake and let's see what we can dredge up,

spitball with the fish and maybe things will change,

the moons getting closer and the tides coming in,

let go of your clothes and close your mouth

grant me one wish please.

The rain beats me

Outside can you hear the rain?

Tap, tap, tap,

as the rain falls on the copper roof,

a hazy green,

the fog darkens the color of your caramel eyes,

undaunted by your flaunting silhouette,

I possess the much need etiquette,

for these times to go more smoothly.

No job for weeks,

no brick laying in the rain,

I'd stand with my hand out,

hoping for a handout,

but if I told you this I'd be lying,

rather I spent my time,

smoking cigarettes and drinking beer,

and the dirty dime,

with the ladies that make the pope cry.

Night after night,

I would tell you a lie,

take the dollars from your purse,

and ask a lady to hop on my lap,

Dance,

Dance,

Dance,

Whiskey chased with beer,

drunkenly stumbling home,

slip in and hope you don't know,

that it's 4 and I'm just coming home,

lay with you in the bed,

and wait till you wake and go off,

to work you'll go,

and I'll spend the day chasing dreams away,

thinking that I should be richer then I am,

but trying to do is something I don't want to do,

So once you get home,

I'll lie about about my day,

and things will stay the same.

Suits

I took out my best suit,
the one made of tweed,

but it must have been some time,

since I've dusted it off,

the moths had their way with it,

too few patches that I could fine,

and damn if I didn't try,

I spent a few minutes looking,

don't you know,

Saw the curtains,

justing hanging there,

dammit I've got an important interview,

and it came as a thought,

but in the end,

I slipped in on,

made no fuss,

stepped out into the winter blues,

and let the wind rip through.

STUFF

BLACK AND WHITE

I took the way that I loved you from old black and white films,

where they sing and dance,

and make unseen love in a sunlit bedroom,

I took your cues,

as I let my hands wonder,

I caught the glimpse of wonder in your emerald eyes,

you knew just what I wanted to do,

let loose a button,

let go of your distress,

and slide out of that dress,

lay on your back and count the stars in the shining sky,

let my magic hands take heed,

no longer will your heart bleed,

spring board with a scream,

these are the things you never see in old black and white films,

making love in a dark room,

with an empty bottle of rum ,

not even the first one,

everything seems like it never should of seemed,

you look at me,

it's never as good the first,

and neither is this,

a million times it seems,

I've let loose this top button,

held my hands up high,

but now your hands seem like brick,

sinking in the sea,

there ain't no magic in them anymore,

turn off the lights and lets call it a night.

WEIGHTED DOWN BY PLASTIC SUITS

I've grown tired of your tweed suits and scents of cigars,

the flaring tails of these dying stars and martini's being spilled,

the backlash of the batting of your long eyelashes,

I cannot trace the stars at night anymore,

No longer can I lay in the grass,

The weeds in the back are past knee high,

Stowed back in the closet is your old leather jacket,

would you put on the lace and fishnet just one more night?

You could say that we're both apart of this,

but I just don't know,

I'm too old fashioned,

you ask me if this is love,

I'd hold a gun to another mans head,

if his glance came at you wrong,

and you'd still ask me just the same,

you argue when I light my cigarettes,

while one dances on your lips,

justice and love,

I'll pour you vodka over ice,

and I'll take Johnny Walker blue,

sit back in our lawn chairs and stare at the moon.

SLOW

Tight walking under the moonlight two minutes past midnight,

I set off this night under the premise it would be solo,

drinking milk straight from the jug sidewalk chalking,

I'd give myself the old pat on the back for the things that I've done.

SLIPPING DOWN THE SLIDE

skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain.

simple times with the pipe,

dreaming bigger then mountains grow high,

foolishness is polished with my big,

my big wooden stick

sticky things these situations seems to be,

believe me I'd rather be,

Skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain,

driving down the old route,

picking up ladies sticking out their thumbs,

only if they've got the hills,

that give a good ride,

but they hop on in and start to talk,

I'd rather be,

skipping rocks on the river,

drinking moonshine,

and apple pie whiskey,

slinging shots out into the rain.

SPIT ON THEM

Looking at all these women in the eyes,

brutal blue,

sunset kisses,

swelling up my lips,

swollen eyes,

bleeding on the inside.

Someone is looking at me cursing me,

looking up at the blue skies,

brutish looks sullen swallows,

I'd ask to be vulcanized,

maybe then I'd spend more time,

reading books,

then looking up skirts,

I'd ask you to say what would Ernest Hemingway say?

The look on your face would offer no excuse,

ask you to take off your bling,

and lay next to me,

and lay asleep.

New written words: Fresh from these finger tips

DROP A ROCK IN THE RIVER

Up and down this river road,

watching the rainfall and river rise,

crash against the rocks along the the river bank,

I went looking For God that day,

but he was never lost.

So I kicked it into over-drive,

swinging from the tree,

There's a rope swinging for the three,

with someone looking like me,

dropping to the water disappearing,

I went looking for him and got only my reflection,

and then I knew that he was I,

So I continued on this rough and rugged road.

MIDNIGHT KISSED

Lay your head on heaving chest,

Feel my breath slipping out of my lungs,

feel my pulse race,

I can only blame you,

I can only blame you,

You've got me hot,

with your low cut shirts,

and mini skirts,

Letting your hair flow,

burning right through me with those eyes.

Crawl inside,

see what I've got to give,

I know I've got enough,

But for you?

Is what I want to know.

Let me wrap you in these arms of mine.

You've got me hot,

with your low cut shirts,

and mini skirts,

letting your hair flow,

let it flow it all over me,

and give me your love,

give all your love to me.

SWEEPING HEART BEATS

Ominous glass of red wine,

sitting on the table sweating,

just like me,

as I wait as the clock clicks the minutes away,

waiting for you to walk through the door,

closing on midnight,

and your a no show,

I think I'll kiss another girl tonight,

maybe that sweet thing that always gawking at me,

your a no show,

a no show,

and got no love growing between this thing,

lighting my cigarette,

looking over the frozen river,

from the stoop your father built,

but the time is slipping by,

and this love is a no go,

your a no show,

it's way past midnight,

I think I'll buy that sweet thing,

some morning food,

and take her back to our bed,

and get rid of all the thoughts I've had of you.

COCKY

Blame it on my cocky attitude,

but these times the lights dim low,

and your hands runs slow,

up and down my back,

and through my hair,

stick with me,

time will fly,

we'll go swimming with no clothes,

watch the empties float down the river.

You say that loving me is hard,

blame it on the little blue pills,

25 ain't seventeen,

things aren't doing what they're suppose to,

too much drinking and late nights,

cooking steaks and drinking wines,

stick with me,

time will fly,

we'll go swimming with no clothes,

watch the empties float down the river,

things will never be like when we sixteen,

but we can kiss,

for every minute that we let pass,

BLUE JEANS

Wake up in the morning feeling bulletproof,

this girls got me feelings loose,

ain't no breaking free,

got me weak at the knee's,

give me some of that loving please,

please,

please,

don't go letting me go,

this days going to take a little longer,

we'll pull on through,

and I'll slip on in,

and we'll watch the water fall from the sky,

early day turn to early night,

got me looking for my effing jeans,

pool sticks broke in half,

no need for your to kiss me good bye,

rather just say good night,

and pour the coffee back in,

this days going to take a little longer,

we'll pull on through,

and I'll slip on in,

we'll listen to the rain make a splash,

watch as late night turns to early noon,

babe I'm waking up,

felling bulletproof,

and your lips,

your lips and what they do,

have got me loose.

various more pictures

funny pictures

Red Bull

New Stuff

Some of my adobe photoshop work

those jeans are just right tight

Kicked back with your denim jeans,

rolling around in the back of my pick up truck,

looking up at the stars,

dripping wine from those plum lips.

great night to use you up,

great night to use your love,

you ain't got nothing else giving up,

worth a buck

dirts kicking up from roads we're on,

kick back in your seat,

relax your body girl,

your prettier when you smile's up side down,

great night to use you up,

great night to use your love,

you ain't got nothing else giving up,

worth a buck

cause you know,

low and dirty that's how I go,

broke and cheap is what I know,

torn shirts and fold out couches,

great night to use you up,

great night to use your love,

you ain't got nothing else to give up,

I've got no more bucks,

no more bucks,

no more bucks,

you gotta come cheaper,

cause those jeans are just right tight under the moon light

Your Batteries ran dry

You're the cigarette I dropped on the ground
outside the grocery store
 someone swept you up and threw you away
I'm not addicted anymore
You're like that CD I had with a crack in the center
I loved it but couldn't enjoy it any longer
it was beautiful but broken and it skipped
while in rotation
You could be my favorite shirt that's too small now
it made me handsome and was comfortable
I felt like myself with it on now it's worn and torn and just fits me wrong
Once you were a present to me
I opened you up, you made me happy
You made me smile and I wanted more
Now you're behind that closet door
you got old you weren't the same
the thrill was lost in the game
your batteries ran dry and it made me cry

Jade

There was not a question in his mind
The day he met the girl named Jade.
He knew she'd be the one to change the world around him.
But he couldn't utter a word.
His tongue was tied; his eyes were glued.
To every eyelash, to every auburn curl.
His heart beat so fast it slowed the rest of him down.
And his body stood cemented to the grass.
With each syllable she sang
And the closer she came to him
The farther he sank into a hole.
A hole filled with lights and hues he had never seen. Light more bright and distant than the sun's.
Shades of emerald and other vibrant greens. Unexplainable glory he never knew existed.
What he was missing all along but never knew he missed it.
Was it love or was it euphoria?
Which one is better?
Or are they the same? 
He couldn't tell the two apart
Or come up with a descriptive name.
He eventually came to call this feeling his unnamed pleasure.
He hoped for it to last forever.
And ever.

common skin disease

A common skin disease is what you've become to me,

cigarette butts and empty Dixie cups rimmed with dry gin decorate my floor,

we've spent too much time causing each others skin rashes,

rolling around skin to skin whispering lustless words that bore,

your words pierce my ear like a wave crashes,

your smoke rings stain my mute roof with Rorschach inkblot tests,

you say it's your tribute to Paul Cézanne,

I sip from the bottle and casually protest,

the blots, if art at all, would be of painter Susanne,

We both laugh,

time seems to slip back to a new time,

when you and I would spend hours talking about the discrepancies of Arthur Nersesian's New York,

versus the one we lived in for five years,

We were never under the thumb of yuppie greed,

just under lustful love and libido that never quits,

but those memories fade,

as the nagging in my stomach overcomes me,

my liver hates to rude by intruding,

he gives me a squeeze,

he's in need you know,

anytime you near it seems I need a drink.

And beer won't do,

only the hard stuff is enough to subdue the ache,

I'd stick a needle in my arm if needles didn't make me so queasy.

My mother says drinking will kill me,

But then what about you?

My lung let out a cough,

Black smoke rolls from between my blue lips,

Can't drink without a smoke,

I open the pack and damn,

I can see the last cigarette smoldering in your hand,

as you ash on my linen-less bed,

A common skin disease is all you are to me,

I've been in this hell too too long.

And the fires dying down.

I think I'll just lay back on the bed and close my eyes,

rewind time to when I met you,

you common skin disease,

and I'll peel you right off and throw you down the drain,

and you'll spin around and around,

I hope that you will see my face,

and the big wide grin,

cause I'll be free of you,

and if I'm free of you,

then I'm free of the smokes and booze,

But then I wonder what would I do?

I got you a fruit basket as a housewarming gift

Volatile fruit aroma,

swoops from the kitchen to my circular room,

like a tornado,

the smell erupts in my tomb,

violence overcomes me,

I pick up my bed and toss it through,

the black hole that is now encompassing this space,

hate sweeps through me,

from my toes to my finger tips,

I feel the static electricity,

running through a lighting storm,

peaches, cherries, strawberries, blueberries,

they spontaneously explode around me,

their juices cover me,

too too sticky,

this shit is getting old,

I tell the volatile man in the mirror.

heart stroke as the clock strikes nill

At the bottom of Machu Picchu,

the mechanism of my psychogenic muscular organ,

started to shake,

my whole body became spastic,

as the machinist,

I could not pull gasoline from thin air,

to lite my fire,

the humidity was too thick,

so the tools were not there,

I tried to site the ironic angry humor,

being that I built my heart,

built my heart...

to fail me.

irony

sing me to sleep

Melodic crooning,

as you stroke your six string guitar,

the dynamics of the strong and weak beat,

as your foot taps out a singular dull thud,

the ripples in your scotch catches my eye,

my cigarette dangles on the tips of my lips,

sweat beads,

drip from my skin,

my bodies sweating,

my fibers push the lactic acid,

I can feel the music in my bones,

I'll sleep sweet tonight.

YOUR SUBPERB SILHOUETTE

If my appearance interferes with your venerable existence,
Please take your body and withdraw from my crude presence.
I have nothing but respect and reverence for your face.
It reminds me of canyons I've never seen and dreams I've misplaced.

There's nothing I'd love more than to share a drink or two
And chat about teenage procreation or Sioux City Sue.
Because your hair was scarlet and your eyes were opal blue.
I remember the pendant on your necklace was an old buffalo tooth.

We could speak of urban myths, beets, and the leaping years.
You could confess to me your secrets and I'd unleash my fears.
I'm not surveying your wrinkles or the silver in your hair.
I'm savoring your mouth while smoke lingers in the air.

you will set your ear upon my heaving chest
As I vacuum in the last drag of my cigarette.
Obliged to hear me speak of rock and roll legends,
Then I will quietly leave the stoop and witness your superb silhouette end.

Alarm clock strong arm

I'll help you stay alive if you stay by my side.
I'll keep your mind off the drugs if you keep my mind off the time.
I'll hold you when you need holding if you don't leave when the storm starts blowing.
I'll plug your nose when you feel temptation if you hold my hand when it starts shaking.
Just know that I'm here.
And remember that I hear.
I'll take in every word. and spit some out in return.
Don't lose faith in me because I won't lose faith in you.
The road ahead might be blurry
but we can both learn to focus by teaching each other.
When your alarm clock rings
I'll stretch my arm to shut it off,
if you keep me warm for a few more minutes before you put your clothes on.
When you think you have tears to cry,
I'll help you dry your eyes if you use your hand to muffle my cries.
If we can love, learn and heal and understand the things we feel that's all we need.
Baby, that's all we need.

Alone in my messy mess

Get out of this house
Get out of this mess
When I'm here all alone
that's when I feel the best
When there's no hand lain across my beating chest
And I hear nothing besides my own frosty breath.
Yes yes yes that's when I feel the best
When only my lamp lights up my room and there's nothing to see
But the gleam of the moon,
I don't worry about who's watching
Only about holding onto the pen and paper
Not about aching feet off eight hours of labor. 
Only about the words and me.
Only about what else I will be.
Because when I'm out of this lonely but comfortable place
I am forced to come face to face with people and smiles I don't wish to see.
Once in a while I just to be with me.
My apologizes darling. 
I'm kicking you out because you just don't hear what I'm talking about.
No, not tonight I don't want to be touched,
I don't always feel like making love (to you) 
Sometimes I need to be alone, so I can remember what silence sounds like. 
To hear no phone. To see no faces.
To forget the vibration of the ticking clocks race.
To do nothing but lie in warm waters in the dark and shut out all outside these walls the people who have become so stark.
Alone I am.
Alone I will be until I wake in time for the day ahead I'll dream of that warm lonesome bed.

So you saw no one? There was no one there. So you did see no one.

With opprobrious sense,

simulating to the shadows,

of your locked kicked-in heart,

My lost sense of moral turpitude,

strains on your mind,

amphibologie's run a muck in our whirlwind love,

no such luck with an equivocation's save,

you spit in my eye,

slap the lithium laced tonic from my hand,

you'll take lead on this political charge,

spearheading the shock treatments I'll soon need,

as they propagandize my Lhasa Apso against me,

but my immovability will prove to best your best attempts.
So as the arms on the clock grow tired,

telling you the time,

you'll scream for it to shut up,

but they'll be nights when you'll hear her,

tick tock,

tick tock,

no escaping father time.

And I'll use my arms,

to bear arms

and strike you down,

light a lighting bug in a thunder storm.

oranges and gasoline (dreams weaved into infinity)

Her eyelids were spun by sweating silkworms.
Tucked in her bed, they slowly close.
Her brain projects images of tree snails
Sword-fighting with delicate dog embryos.

Leave her thoughts alone.
Go back to your home.

You enter her dreams with your puffed out chest.
She locked the door, but somehow you break in.
Smiling with your sugar cube teeth.
You take off your shoes and walk on your bare feet.

Don't forget to close the door,
Or you won't be welcome anymore.

You walk through the labyrinth of her mind.
Rainbows and sinkholes all along the trail.
Stop at the fountain for a glass of blush wine.
Milkmaids in bonnets burn all the mail.

Your train has been derailed.
Your love letters will not be mailed.

A man of God in a white robe brings her a bouquet.
Geraniums in an aquarium with angel fish.
They swim up in the sky and land upon her lips.
You sit at a round table and feast on amphibians.

Is it what you expected
After you let yourself in?

tigers dream here, didn't your hear

My first half unfinished version of you is
Like a silent contract of mistrust
Smooth-faced and casting shadows
You stand over me
Sketched in red and pining
A softened solemnity regales itself to me
Deeply pierced I feel nothing
Except a choice refined.
Interestingly strange you seem
Portraits of the history of your face
Deference and masculinity line your stride
With blue-blood invention
Like a tired snow leopard in a sea of Purple bougainvillea
Just after summer satisfactions
Just for great art
Just another July afternoon sunlight sewn with astounding exactness
Flesh beneath a mannequin's costume
I watch and wait to see

Secret thieves

I wrapped my body in warm layers of wool
To probe the nearby wooded trail.
I went alone, I went in disguise
To learn the secrets of the snail.

The cash drawer was forgotten and never counted.
The till was left open to be stolen from.
And I didn't care, I left in a flash.
I knew the thieves would never come.
Those damn thieves never get their easy work done.

So hold on to my hand and we'll go off together
To the wooded trail. Just dress for the weather.
Cover your neck so you don't catch a cold.
And forget the cash drawer, forget the green mold.

Do what you please on the wooded trail.
But cover your feet and look out for the snails.
They are hiding beneath the foam and the leaves.
Waiting to be found by the secret thieves.

The secret thieves, the bandits of the trees.
They know where money grows
And how to keep it clean.
The secret thieves, the bandits of the trees.
No cash flow out in the woods,
Only birds and bees.

Dig me clean grave

My mouth will squeeze
Red blood of a beet
Onto your scalp
When you yell for my help.

I'll be sitting naked
On my favorite arm chair
And your breath will float over
To sleep in my ear.

We will think of the years
Swiftly going by,
Like the snap of your fingers
Or a galloping deer.

Milking the udders
Of a broken clock.
The pendulum swings
But the time has stopped.

Can you keep it like that?
Can you keep it like that?

Can you stitch a patch of lace onto my back?
To cover my scars,
To shield a scratch
 
Left on my skin during a vengeful attack.

It was long ago,
But the marks do remain.
They are ugly and deep.
They are pink rubber stains.

Help me wash them away.
Help me wash them away.

Put your hands on the soap
And dig me a clean grave;
Where I can comfortably lay.

snow capped dreams

On the breast of a snow covered mountain top,
I relinquish my morality.
amid independence fleeting thoughts of resilience pending,
the arrogant stress lies upon my polyglot personality,
with the swiftness of a boa your meddling thoughts,
restrict my brainwaves,
my thalamus receives your negative thoughts,
like the mountains receive the snow.
I am open.

These dreaming are causing my rash

walking metropolises
constantly in sunlight
pushed along by the slight but powerful expansion
of avant-garde illusionists;
as hoards of post-irrationalists,
picketing the rational argument,
of certain constraints,
for whos omnipotent divinity,
will hold them morally acountable
for the Palawan massacres
in the twilight of post-capitalism fallout?