Up the Beasties

All credit for this image to The COER Project and Brian Valeza

Behemoth beasts with eyes of grease-

grinding teeth the size of wyrms,

temporal freeze, oh yes, I please,

disgruntled skunks begin to squirm.

Bathe us in the phase we win

those lessons hard to learn.

Formulary factions

of dirt and pleasant piss,

Ocean faring classes

where pirates never miss.

Bossman beats us with a thump and crack

a Vorpal sword goes snicker snack.

Smoothly ugly oil puddles

pools of liquid venom.

glisten do the rainbow muddles,

and now we can’t forget ‘em.

Broken stacks and backs of paperwork,

bitch boy Brother, you are SUCH a jerk.

Salting wounds with happy goo,

a magic virus, from me to you!

All is love and love is war

drink your pride with a sipping straw.

Cracking noises, leaking sounds,

the weak will win and the wealthy drown.

Jaberwock, my buddy boy,

live again, and make their flesh your toy.

Leah’s Garden

All credit for image to Fairy Homes and Gardens

This doesn’t feel like the first time I’ve walked through this garden, even if the gate hangs with a different name. The scent of potential hung over you like petrichor drawn in deep and lingering long after the thunder. Half-constructed trails meandered through the beds of saplings, seedlings, and sprouts before disappearing into mere suggestions of where they might continue. The promise of beautiful life elegantly displayed with artistry and love. Grappling to find the light. Just in need of some gentle tending to realize its magic for all to see.

I walked your cobblestones until they turned to dirt and brambled overgrowth. Poured heartfelt time into removing the obstructions so the sun could shine openly and feed the newness aching to reach the stars. Painstakingly watered while I worked, a labor of love. A dream of what was emerging. Marked new trails. Scattered endless new seeds. Coated all the leaves in a spray of herbs and words to drive the bugs away who would seek the generosity of your flesh. Cleared and cleared and cleared the brush, which grew back faster than I could ever seem to keep up with. When my back ached, my hands blistered, and my face was crisp from the sun, I kept at it.

You fed my soul in turn. Nourished my belief in all the possibilities as I saw the petals opening. Sweetly urged me through the darkness of inner nights with the simple innocent affection of new beginnings and growth. I saw shooting stars against my sometimes impenetrable blanket of desperation and fears You inspired me, challenged me, and loved me with bright flowers. Chittering laughter as the wind swept your fragile branches together while a dance of light scattered through your blossoming leaves. Your smile was dew on grass blades refracting the sun and capturing the world in a sphere. You spoke to my heart as I labored to speak to yours.

I heard the flames crackling behind me as I left, and now all you are is ash.

I had no more water left to pour, no more energy left to give. My home garden needed my love as well, and all my time was spent drifting through yours. I failed to find the balance they both needed, and that failure had a heavy price.

Someday, I hope to walk past your arched entry. To see your name proudly gleaming in gold. Friends, and admirers laughing while taking in all the beauty that you are. To know that you burst into life in my wake.

Not because of anything I did.

Because of the magic that has always been you.

Sometimes ash is a better gift than any human effort.

A clean field to start again.

It doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.

It doesn’t mean I don’t wish I’d had more to give.

Or that I hadn’t listened better as you tried to teach me how to tend you better.

Or that I’m not grateful for every moment I was privileged to spend inside your walls.

So very, I wish, I could have, and I am.

Even if you never see this….

….please know I will always love you.

Fantasy Love

If I could cross the distance, I’d show you a world of magic. We would listen to the tinkle of fairy wings beneath the sundering roars of dragons. We would wander down trails carved from the age old stone of mountains with peaks housing mythical creatures and the ancient miners of the deep earth. The woods would spiral out in a cacophony of mystery, beckoning us deeper into the vastness of the land. We would sip tea with the pointy eared ones with immortal eyes, play checkers with the bridge dwellers, dance wildly beneath the tops of mushroom villages and their pixie residents. We would hold hands, smile, and drop down waterfalls where the rocks have been tumbled smooth, their jaggedness run down over ages of gentle pressure and the tender ministrations of a thousand children creating a playground straight from the planet.

If I could cross the distance, I’d show you eternity above. The most lovely of pink hued edges wrapping across a sun of glossy stained glass against the vibrancy of blue. Soon the sky dancers would spark into existence as so many millions of eternal fireflies placed on a black canvas. The moon would climb out of it’s slumber to grin and translate the inkiness of night into a soft violet hue. Wolves would howl in somber songs of love, crickets would chirp their worship, and owls bathe the world in their questioning symphony.

Against the night, I would lay you down in the softest of grass. We would wave excitedly at the luminescence of our heaven bound ancestors as they rained their glow down on us. Our fingers would become paintbrushes as we connected their souls from the infinity above to each other as we painted portraits and fantastical creatures into the night. As the dark deepened, we would wrap ourselves in each other, merging as we bathed beneath the softness of infinity and the gentle eyes of the universe loving it’s children. We would stare into each others eyes and the moment of climax would break the hold of our bodies over our souls. Our cries would match the wolves and the entirety of existence would freeze for a moment of purity, ecstasy, and innocence.

If only I could cross the distance….I’d take you there.

Hail and Thunder where Hope Meets the End

Hail and rain beat the red off the tin barn roof. Thunder stutters while the salted tears of angels loosed from cream raiments pour onto the ground so much as snow stacked too early for the season. Apocalyptic droplets at the end of days that have run into themselves. Greed piled holiness tramping through the beautiful “could have beens” as the doomed masterpiece of the hopefully broken trod heavily across the land.

Trampled, trampled beneath the weight of heaven collapsing. Soaked, soaked in the dreams of all of those that once knew the direction they sought to follow. We let this happen. We let the monsters in and bred them in our hearts to be beggared, then sold off to the lowest bidder. We let this happen. We set fire to the oceans of life and love until their ashes drifted haphazardly across the ruins of our world. We let this happen. We decried the openness and jubilation at our fingertips to rejoice beneath the sun or moon-clad sky as free creatures wandering the magic that their brethren the stars choose to sparkle upon us. We let this happen. And now we rejoice in the blistering misery of our own defeat.

In the gasps of our failure, we can find ourselves. We are the dust of ancient suns decayed into life. We can reveal our nuclear radiance that would bless the entirety of time with an essence of gratitude and beauty so bright that it would shine into the endless void of the universe as a testament to what grew here. What fought and bled and lost and won and cried and mourned and shared and thrived and moved and wished and laughed and cheered and hoped and dreamed here. The lost will be brought into the welcoming arms of house and home as new families are born of that most primal and powerful light, love. Smile through tears most special ones, we stand at the cusp of all and nothing, let your eyes see the mysteries beyond, glimpse our eternal everything, and all that we had inside of us.

Hold each other close, and whisper your final breaths to those dearest. Our hour of despair and our hour of most compelling beauty comes now.

Hello human.


Wealth I found

past the cracked shoreline

where the temper of the rain

is always less than kind.

Across the grass gone to rot

in fields capped gray

seared to pathetic dust

fed on by insects

and home to spiders.

Beyond the sealed tops of wells

whose water had all soured

from dirt made mud

reeking of sulfur

which fouled the clarity

and the taste.

Against the backdrop

of a melted sun

pouring its soul

into an endless blue

as night shadowed close

to extinguish the light.

Deep in the badlands

mind spinning wildly

sparking against the solitude

a heart caught flame

and in the darkness

exposed the gold

staining each footprint.


Below the gallows and above the stars
breath wails out for hope,
even without those upon thars.

Dripping nitrogen and oxygen,
we are made of galactic stuff.

Thoroughly and dreamily we believed
in acting oh so tough.

A universe galloping, wildly, over the edge
no reigns to find in absent time,
we exhaust this empty pledge.

“I am human as I conceive of me,
and in this void, devoid of all,
I insert what I will be
despite pride before the fall.”

Sand drops the final shard,
ambition meets its end.

In this final darkness, child,
naught but love is friend.

Awaken the Statue

All credit for the image to Conscious Reminder

Etched ink drawn out in scars so colorful and deep they collapse the night around them,
I stare at them, on my arms, on my chest, on my fingers, on my neck,
this collection of reminders I wear to remind me of experiences,
they are my gateway to recall, to the moments that shaped me, that broke and remolded me.

Memories pour across the neurons, a kaleidoscopic whirl of time merging from past to present,
let me bathe inside the warmth of the smiles, the haloed intensity of each saturated moment,
let me wander determinedly into the shadows of loss, the grief, the regrets, the mistakes,
let me step boldly now across the insanity, the passions, the desires, the absences, and the half forgotten faces.

Take me to the sculpting block where all the roads merge to one, where stone is chipped with experience,
where the cracks define the figure and are the map into my soul, the escape route for my heart.
Let me see the tools we used, from tormented days to breathless ecstasy, from fear to love, from madness to peace,
all the fractured chunks on the floor, finally appreciated for the masterful strokes the universe wielded.

Walk me toward this newfound person, chiseled from the inside and the out to become a reality,
able to see and be seen fully without the cloak of mystery that all raw material has.
It took decades, it took patience, it took heartbreak, it took courage, it took honesty, it took determination,
it took error after error, it took forgiveness, it took deliberation, it took choices, it took exhaustion.

It took every painstaking moment, every particle of hope, and every bout of confusion to get to this moment.
Etched ink drawn out in scars, paint that will never be removed on flesh that yearned so desperately for meaning,
reminders of where it all began, and the journey to where I sit today. Grateful for the path,
mindful of what it cost me and those that entered the studio of my life, open to the light the bathes this world,
in love with existence and the chance to shine bright enough that others may find their way out of the dark.

Bleak Waves

I want to crawl out of my own skin and jump through a plate glass window, I want to sob until there’s nothing left. Instead I’m sitting here staring vacantly into nothingness again, mindlessly eyeballing the furniture and praying for some form of relief from the reminders. All the hopes smashed, all the dreams broken, all the might have beens. This has to get better right? I know I’ve left a trail of casualties who have endured the same through my own ineptitude and unwavering consistency in making the wrong choices. I keep asking myself the why of it all which is a surefire way to spiral down and out into nothingness. Maybe that’s where I’m headed for again, nothingness. Empty transitioning to the next stage of future. If I could wail it out I would, but there’s a limit to what I can tap at any given moment. “What the fuck Fred, this one got his wires crossed over again and now we’re dealing with the sizzling discharge.” Waves it seems, fucking waves and buried in the absence of my constant companion and closest friend I thought. What do I know about shit, I’m still just running blindly forward while trying to find my way in the dark.

Fabric of Love

If I could spin the words out into something cheerful then a magician I’d be,
instead of a lout on the other side of the board finally staring at a world beyond madness,
Where all the little mockeries and cruel moments would have been nothing but whispers in the air,
because we would have arrived at some place better and far from here.
In the end the poison did its work, and all that venom ran its course.
Rainbows to shadows and unflinching whiplashes all around,
carving each other to nothing when all we wanted to do was be free.
There’s a price we pay for knowledge, and a price we pay for love.
Sincerity at its finest sometimes runs across the mirk and mire layered so deep,
into the shadow places where we fear to walk, don’t dare to tread our feet.
And if I said a thousand times I loved you it wouldn’t change a thing,
our words were tools to sculpt each other into what we wanted,
never looking at the inward mess that turned each of us into fodder.
With veil unbound those shadow teams will play,
their unbridled enthusiasm for pushing buttons with words and silence as their flays.
Maybe we all need a bit, those momentary hells,
and then again we walk in sun, share happiness that swells.
Theirs purity in the essence of this dance,
though its ugly and full of lies.
This time maybe we will both learn the lesson and stand apart on high.
So even if I have a thousand words all laced with fear and hurt and dread,
the truth of it is they do no good when I chase them through my head.
I’m dancing now to the loss and sadness that I don’t know you feel,
it feels a sick and mocking truth to know that I’m the heel.
But in those moments, when I didn’t doubt myself,
I had such joy that I stayed trapped and waited to be engulfed.
Abandon life when you walk the road determined not to stray,
give up the world to sniff off of a tray.
I hold such wanton disgust at the man I’ve been, the weakness you helped me see,
I should have walked out that door so much sooner rather then have us both polluted,
kindness in a temporary misery.
For all the laughs and all the smiles, and the moments that I know were maybe less an act,
I loved you then and I’ll love you in a bitter way all bound up in the dreams that were,
but it’s time to leave this class.
For all the damage that I wrought,
the callous moments when you twisted that knife in deep and I did the same,
regret is there and I’m damaged brand new from all those marks of shame.
Today I’ll take the blessings, even from the lurkers who shift and hide,
the world is new and hearts will heal,
I have to believe that even if I don’t right now.
There are angels in the darkness,
and monsters with beautiful faces,
underneath our unshorn wings,
love and stubbornness have taken me to most unwelcome places.
No longer a child and not quite a man,
I’m forging a path brand new,
I’ll own my side of the equation because that’s apparently what to do.
Less words then actions needed, and I think that’s just the way.
Someone dear told me once that my shine was going to rust away.
So for all the moments, the hopes and the family dreams,
thank you for the efforts you made, and for all the screams.
I wish I made you happier, had broken through the rage,
but I know now you never really were mine to have,
so I’ll be thankful for what you gave.
To the friends I haven’t met,
and those that have seen me sink,
I’ll love your presence in my life,
so much more now that I’m alive at last I think.
Maybe overt optimism,
and I’m sure it’s been a good show,
it’s off to write something that I can be proud of on my own,
with respect and honor for the past and all the ills that came before.
I never know what to say, I get cerebral with all this shit.
I’ll take it with a grain of salt, and recognize I’m learning despite and because of it.
Peace go with you all in the next refrain, we’ll see what comes up next,
I may never have wanted this path, but I’m the one who chose it.
There’s a story to change, and smiles to bring, maybe some that are real at last,
and if I’m the only one sitting there giggling, well, I don’t learn fast.
Best wishes and kisses to you masterful folks,
and the hateful scum amongst.
Love you through the paralysis and the crazy days,
when I couldn’t trust my guts.
I’m going to cut the strings I’ve held for so long learn to laugh and trust myself.
Be well in your own truths.