Always remember, never forget

Do you remember or did you forget?
The meaning of life/
are you happy yet?

Don't ever look downward or be discouraged, father
in this battle of woes and wows and climbing towers
I'm sorry for all your troubles
wish my voice were louder

Remember it is you who holds the power
and Life is gentle like that of spinning flowers.

For whomever may read this in the future after I am dead

It is November 19th, 2012
We live in a time where crime
is full of tricks and gamblers
blood and bricks
the same bricks that build houses,
but houses for many here
are no longer homes but rather dwellings
inhabited for those who
carry their bones to and from jobs they hate
and higher educational institutions as of late-
and oh how we strive to be better,
always trying to keep up with the weather
wondering whether or not at any minute
we will rot with the trees
Yes! We still have the trees, thank god
but who knows for how long
every time we turn the corner
there's a sign for a new building in order
We know that buildings don't make us happy,
but they do build jobs and success
so we can continue living in this mindless nonsense-
so we can continue making a dollar
to build new picket fences
or buy our dogs a pretty collar
And all the while longer
we waddle in our pride that
sucks us deeper towards the puddle
that to many is filled with grime and goblets of fire,
but I'm really striving to not be sour here
I really want to waken in the morning hour
and smell the flowers
to smell as if I've never seen one before-
to walk out the door
and take in the beauty
of nature, strangers
and friends
I want to look destruction in the eye
and create a new life for myself in spite of
tyranny and lies-
What lies here today has lied here before-
just a little more electronic and
technological I would say-
I dream of simpler times in 2012,
Future, what do you dream of?

The vine

What's a hollow man to do
with the fragility they call me-
enough emotions to fill
the bottomless oceans
and at sea side-
it's the holes and crescendos
bearing the depths of my mind.

While you are settling down
like a sun setting on time-
I struggle with the demonic waves
that come and go,
sorry and surprise.

All the time we fast forward

only to find that we rewind.

and we die a little bit each day

from our once perfect vine.

Perché?

I don't understand at times why
bewildered bodies have to die-
When the soul is crystallized and feeling fine-
Time steps in to steal the night.

Eyes oblige, but mostly cry
as we suffice to the thickest drops of dew tonight

Oh Divine One up in a sky so white:

Why'd you interrupt the strongest eagle
during the best flight of his life?

Una lezione italiano:

"L'amore può essere fonte di piaceri sempre nuovi e sempre straordinari, ma ha, al suo interno, nascosta una componente che può produrre tutto il contrario, come l'odio e la crudelta"

"Love can be a source of pleasure, always new and always extraordinary, but, inside, a hidden component that can produce the opposite, such as hatred and cruelty."

Interessante e un po'di pessimista, ma ancora bella-

To Timbo,

Leo the lion-
with his falcon above the sea.
You are existing
and nonexisting
between being and nonbeing;
and whatever these things mean.

Your young body turned to ash
as we weeped and said goodbye-
To a man once living that morning,
then evening came and died.

Like Neruda said,
"You're a swimmer in the sky"
Our gentle giant diving-
always diving
here and by.

So close as you are far to us now,
we still hear the notes on your guitar
To a man once living in the morning
then nightfall, departed with the stars.

Timothy, his name.
See his hands and face.
Like a lion he was
and Kings who never stay-

Though their exit's all seem bitter
and many left to wonder
King's can't live forever
when they're meant for someplace better.

Swim in your skin

I want to swim in your skin,
come crawling.
Surely you won't leave me lonely tonight,
will you darling?
Not even Anz whose alone like I
can bear the unbearable things you see-
or else we go falling,
like the waves that crash along the shores at the brink of the sea every evening,
yet restore themselves back come fine morning.

Here's to...

All along the waterfalls,
we wish for something after all

Into the golden gates we go
Into the deepest catacombs

Here's to everything we know
Here's to Edgar Allen Poe

Here's to the dancing puppets
diving into the unknown

Here's to everything we know
and everything we don't know

Cheers to us all,
and away we go

Two Rolling Rocks

Does the memory ring
from The Bell that's been broken,
the same Bell that never should
or could succeed?

We fall,

Like two people who never knew each other at all

Like two distant rocks next to the same waterfall



(Artist: Vladimir Kush)

Wolves sigh

The moon rises gently up over the hills
on a sea foam filled with laughing daffodils
one by one the flowers chimed,
after hours throughout the night
But you could never oblige
because the fire instilled in your platonic eyes
still burned
still cried to ride till midnight.

Go ahead and ride the moon till midnight
like wolves that sigh,
who knows if this time will be your last time.

Inspired by the mojo risin

Your eyes are what do it all of the time
Is it a crime I convicted or just a lie?
I'm tying along the strings of our lives
Are we intertwined or do we just play nice?
Twice I told you
-still no reply

Twice you came knocking
without an alibi.

The earth still spins on crystal boats full of hope
as we lay our weary heads to rest

Temptress,
ignite our souls on fire
as we dream away

Are we in search of an imaginary place
or just a means to escape?

Do we all exit the film the same?

I am your keeper
of seven worlds.
Full of troubles
and turmoils.

I too am the pearls
you lost at shore
as I watched you toast
to old friends I'm sure.

But, I am mostly your captain
of finer ships that have sailed
mastering every map known to male

Starting with the seams,
I casted you out like a terrible fish would
and you bursted upright like a shooting star made of wood
spraying all your golden colours
onto the valley below

It was a beautiful sight
to see such a thing
touch down at moonlight
on topaz silvered waters.

The ships go sailing on

It is down at Bond's dock
where you will stay,
fluently singing with your guitar, father
always swaying with the waves

The songs go this way
against the great weight
as the ships sail in to the current
tomorrow or today

You, their master keeper: Captain of the fine sea

The ships go sailing on

hoorah for you
and hoorah for me.

Seventh day of May.

To come undone
through the light of all things
expressed best by those in lava,
better known as love.
In all the world
there isn't such a feeling
one sought after more
than this.

In a world full of unintentional and
sometimes intended cruelty,
we found a space amongst the angst
in the burning blaze of May
on the seventh day
to breathe and to live our lives
the way we always wanted it to be.

In tutto il mondo

We were eleven hours from space

when grace fell from her chair,

all but one bird laughed and stared.


And the audience members bowed as she recited her last verse-

"To curse those who've rehearsed death

isn't more troubling as dancing the lines of those who lived."


We were eleven hours too early,

but we were also eleven hours too late,

when grace fell from her chair

into the oblivion of outer space.

Is it my hands that make you smile?
These hands that which take the past and shove it away.

For both of us,
we were not only just two broken soldiers wondering
(though we might have been)
I'd like to believe that these strange occurrences have more meaning.

Wonderers we were
pacing back and forth round' a thin line.
And along the shores of our lives where the thin line was about to break,
we found the shells that mended our hearts and blew open the waves.

The waves raced back to us,
and the seagulls sang that day.

I cannot say if the waves have a reason
for swaying this way and that
or if my dreams mean anything more
than a series of days filled with mindless chitter chat

I have wasted much time on many a things;
many precious hours questioning;
wondering if I loved enough or ever loved at all;
dust to ashes (from them) many things fell;
I wanted to be perfect rather than understood or good
but change is always lurking if you're in the right mood

I have wasted much time on many a things
(so they say)
never too late to get it back on such a torpid Saturday.

A rare gem she was
always high as a kite
stroking away at her hair
questioning the meaning of life.

If only I could have saved her
or known what she wanted on that very hour
then maybe she wouldn't have wilted away that winter
with the rest of the great sunflowers.

I'm afraid to fall asleep without things,
like answers before the sunrise
or the meaning of our lives painted across the sky.
Yet my eyes close and the room turns blue.
This empty body next to somebody


Hearts weren't made to bend this way.
Just one cocktail on the hour to help me say,
(words I expected to hear from two)

But only in dreams do we exist
the way I would have liked it to

They play their hearts like gamblers on November days.

They grow their mustaches long to ride along the whiskey waves.

And never will they ever say no to their next drink,

because they gotta soak it in and boast away the stink

to flee from all the malicious thoughts they sought after

week by week.

Clear the fog

The fog is the dream so it seems
The dream is the reality we have created-
the creation of our very lives in which we choose to live in.
But we are so far (do remember)
from being bounded by these chains.
We can transcend
and cleanse and cleanse again and again

Then when all is said and done ( after hours )
like that of once a broken flower
the fabler shall set us free
infinitely through the dusty streets in which we sleep.



(photograph from a still image of the Whiskey Folk Ramblers music video that I just recently starred in)

"Watch what you say, the devil is listening
He's got ears that you wouldn't believe
And brother once you go to him
It's your soul you can never, never retrieve

These blood red eyes
Don't see so good
But what's worse is if they could
Would I change my ways? "
- Black Keys