wanna know

woke up from a dream and found blood in my hands
would not come clean
crystal water would wash if I could
find my way to the sink
—ing deeper into a sleepless nightmare I ride
to the edge of town is so sharp I almost cut myself every time
I have dreams like
this never go away…

back to sleep on my back side
to sliding down the rope at the end of the black rainbow
and arrow shooting stars into my eyes
are tearing up
the rug to find the money I plastered behind the wallpaper
pound the nail into my flesh crawls
to a drum beat far away…

wanna know what I think about
time spinning me silly silly boy
he is not getting what he desired
to be or not to be what I want I cannot see
through the ceiling wondering what the sky looks like
from where I lie again
and didn’t mean it sounds so silly
to want to run on the phone wire above the busy street
like that squirrel fell and barely escaped the wheel of tragedy…

wanna know something else
is probably more exciting
to be famous is not an option
that comes and goes out through
after digesting all your babble, babble
and blah, blah, blah, not listening, no, can’t hear you
don’t wanna know what
I see would make your head spin
on an old refrigerator box you got from the store
closed on Sunday,
day to pray, day to pray
on your knees
dirty old men march mouth open drooling
c’mon they can’t help it…

wanna know what I know now
nothing ever seems as easy
to get lost in all the things we like
this like that like I know like it is really like
hard to like know what I am like saying
I don’t think I like it anymore
than getting skin graph surgery with a rusty vegetable peeler
scratching the surface
Friday night belly ache in my mind state of confusion
clouds come crashing thunder thump, thump, thump…

wanna know, bet you do
the things we all say we do
not know but we know more than we lead on
the cross where I hung with pins and needles
poking my toes are asleep, am I dreaming again,
guess not, pinch me, yes I am awake
and two by my side know who I am nothing,
nothing, nothing no one
making you someone and
they are all the others
gather grass to feed the meat we eat
yummy…

wanna know who I am I think you know
me read about me once twice
three times I’ll save ya,
disciples gave me eyes and ears
pierced empty holes and promises
to be a better day tomorrow
will come soon so cheer up you grumpy little brat
—still on the sidelines breaking bread,
they don’t know me because I am in disguise
and grandma didn’t spoil me rotten
vegetable I put my finger through
kind of mushy—had enough?
you’re not getting down that easy
even I am not that lucky and I
was your imaginations mind playing tricks on
your soul will survive my reading out loud
until you bleed out your ears
don’t like my voice should I sing a song
that I don’t know the words to
you I am silly…

wanna know what I think
I think
I think too much sugar drinking melted coffee candy bar
saw you sitting fat man drinking beer
to satisfy the urge to be addicted to something
tells me I don’t quite know
what I am going to do
what I want to do
not disturb sign behind closed doors
I make you confess your sins
will be your down fall
to another season and springing up
when you hear what I know
you have come to the end of another side
tried and tried to hold onto the handle bars
I always knew I didn’t need my hands
are tied to the horses running wild
wind blowing bubbles in clear liquid
sweating as I laugh at you
are such a fool to think I wouldn’t find out
of my mind onto this page
nothing without my words
still sound silly to you
hate it when I read out loud
I scream you scream
when standing in the middle of a circle
drawn in sand in my eyes
my next door neighbor when I was six called me crazy…

wanna know more
words keep coming out through my pen
as I cut the flesh of this
leave me alone in a silent movie
I never saw so many eyes bug out of head
or tail and I still lose the race
small child cry little baby Boris
go to sleep and dream
drawn down in a book borrowed
a thought or two
many walls thick with thought I knew
what I was dreaming about
time for a changed mind again
I am not me not me complexity
you still wanna know me as I stumble
looking for numbers keep counting down from thirty minutes
until I can’t take my hand out of my eyes
are blurry once or twice I might get a little scared of the things
I see what you ignore me as I read this out loud
car outside watch me laugh it up
in the air I breathe is not holding the strings anymore
to say what I mean well I guess I don’t know…

the only one

the only one
hundred and fifty
cents pay a tip
of an iceberg of thought
that is too big to fit
into the schedule
the life around money
does not equal happiness
is not present enough
is enough
sugar in the coffee
break in the action
causes reaction to such a memory
was made to fade

the only one
two or three times
now coming to a close
to the side and dream
many times choosing
to think in words
do not express a thought too well
where change is thrown
away the address and no one knows
why the thoughts arrive this way
the things that come to mind
staying a little longer
the days get daylight saving
cans in order
of appearance not importance
lies in all of these words
may mean nothing to you

the only one
and a half sugars
sweet sensation
of the hot drink
until the shakes arrive
the tambourine
plays a song for him
and you play a tune of your own
story is being told
him over and over
his head
in the right direction
is a debatable question
to ask as he flaunts winnings
and losing what’s the difference
a smile or frown
on a face seen daily
double or nothing
ever seems to work
becoming such a monotony
moving me toward boredom

the only one
out of three chances
not taken
him back to a better day
after day and tonight
a night he can’t see you
soon enough money
to keep him comfortable
sitting in his usual spot
a mile away
from home is what he calls it
seems at times he does
not write down his every thought
he might have something here
what he has to say
what you mean
well even though
you may make mistakes and learn
what not to do next time
you will be right
in his mind and you
are listening to the sun
shines into his eyes
are dotted

the only one
who knows what
about the picture
in a locket
and will never get out
of his own way
back to the beginning
made so much
time has been wasted now
look ahead and see
as he escapes. . .

vision i once had

no longer feeling guilty
is the verdict
is in and a murderer will
die a little bit every day
I wonder what today has to offer
a helping hand to those in need
a new way to look at things
are constantly changing
my clothes for the new day
brings a change of ideas
pass through my mind and are gone
to where the road ends...

spying on a friendly shop
until there is nothing to buy
the way
down there
goes another shooting star
upon which I wish
I could know the answer
my own questions
come and go until; there are no more
or less the point
where I lose my balance
has failed to keep me standing
with my toes on the edge
of the razor cuts my arm
shakes as I write
the wrongs that I have done
nothing to hurt anyone
know why I feel so bad?

blue sign saying center
of the universe is up ahead
off myself a little bit
confused tonight as I sit
and wait for the hour to come
sit near me and speak
in a tongue I can understand
what you see
me as I am motionless
picture painted pretty
close to what I thought
I knew what I was saying
that no one could see me
as I lay flat on the ground
below I see something move
around until you are certain
spot where I go
in circles until I reach
upwards to a new level
the uneven spots in my mind
what you have been told
so many that I am wrong
way down a one way street
leading me to a dead end
of another line
everyone up and ship them off
the point again
I see the sun
pokes it’s face through the clouds
up my clear vision
I once had it
all is lost…

nothing concluded 51

full moon

over head again

feeling a change

something has

come over me

smoke clouds

the temple

don’t know how

right now don’t want

to know anything

wishing to see

those thoughts

the others have

somehow lost in the colors

of eyes

scars on my flesh

bring closer to

an imperfect

balance of sorts

but still falling

straight up

against the wall

built me on

one side

and the world stares

what will they say

who really cares

and when will

doing nothing make sense

to someone else

red star above

the skeleton trees

of April

why won’t Venus

answer these questions

following the brick

pathway back

to a spot

once knew it well

everything has changed

for the better

they say

prices always higher

one day this place will go

under no doubt

on the last day

someone will explain

why the kids

call me names

nothing concluded…

i am taking notes

I am taking notes:
studying the interesting ways and tactics
that parents use to turn a perfectly quiet child
into a miniature screaming lunatic
remember these same guardians on Sunday morning
long ago the practicing catholic once
Sunday mass the ritual sacrifice
seems like that same screaming baby was there
week after week
back of the church the crying room
we all know god doesn’t want to be
troubled with screaming baby Andy
put him in a sound proof room
I want to be that screaming baby
living in a world of fat free
overweight health food nut bag pseudo
intellectual generation ‘xercise’ and I
want to scream can you hear me now?
then six overly orange girls arrive looks like
they just came from the gym
why the do the put up the exercise façade
and smoke menthol cigarettes,
yeah you’re going to quit tomorrow,
just like me…
a society based on thoughts and ideas
no one is right but me, me, me, me
and I sing in a voice no one can hear,
but do I really mind?...

price of patience

seeing white and green
can only see one color at a time
could not tell you the answers to some
questions that are staring me in the face
the facts that are so very present
myself as one who cares
about the price of patience
is something that has to be achieved
after much struggling with new emotions
are so hard to describe
how I feel as though I cannot
adjust myself to new situations
so simple to arrive at eight o’clock
and I will understand
all that you say
you are so comfortable
sitting where you are so stylishly present
another situation and I will succeed
at my spot when I die no tears shall fall
from eyes uncaring unfeeling and quiet
as always reaching for unattainable goals
finally achieved…

nothing concluded 50

candle light

flickering and dancing

on the walls

two watch comfortable

comfortably strange

never really knowing

if the road traveled

is the right one

writing wrong done in the past

learning each time falling

spring arrived

and the disposition

has changed

something beautiful

has changed around me

the mind spins daily

but the slower

things are taken in

the calmer I become

desirable height reached

seeing peace again

as the pages turn too quick

for me to notice

sitting here for too long

nothing concluded…

napoleon's buried treasure

bowl filled with green

having not eaten in two days

and he can't seem to slide

from the hump of the desert

horse he rides far too much

stacking bananas

in piles sorting through

yellow and green colors mixed

blue headed men and women

arrive by the bus load to this spot

consumers-all they are

buy this, buy that, by the way

he is hoping to whip

a ride off the beaten path

and catch a ray of hope on these

new endeavors

he kicks the water

two or three times

to communicate with the dolphins

tricking the fishermen

who think they are tuna

and he eats the sandwich with some

juice on the side waiting

to see if he can find the gift

napoleon has left

his buried treasure

he can't seem to shake the beetle

right now

followed the miser again yesterday

dirty bastard must have found an escape hatch

somewhere down the road

shiny silver polished once is now dull

does not help the high wire balancing act

or his bones from splitting apart

any luck with the cat chase

or will dog eat dog

and circle and sleep again?

soon he will be home

until then. . .

my friend

my friend

have you heard the news

me neither it is better this way

together as the jester wailed

sweating something terrible

fish jump out of water think he was

pleased with that

approaching a twenty second year

cannot see clearly where

the winding road is taking leading

not even sure if there is a road any longer

took a sudden turn a week or so

ago to avoid a tragic u turn

although pleased with the decision

I do not know

where this new wind will carry me

are you still having those dreams

random wedding bells ringing

green suit slickster in the back bobbing his head

to the music in your head

my only suggestion

lie flat on your back and

next time you see a homeless person

on the street corner begging for a dollar

talk to him for a few minutes instead

if he is ungrateful, he was only going to

waste it

if he seems content with your time then

throw him that buck and a firm handshake

it isn't his fault he's there

rolling out of bed with a smile

and maybe someday someone will catch it

next thing you know it is spreading faster than

ebola and everyone is smiling...

now wouldn't that be nice...

pink sky

the sky turns pink and red

blood pouring out of a vein

thought of true happiness

is the thought of peace

of the puzzle is missing

in action

speaker as loud as the words

he writes

now sitting contemplating alone

state of mind

enjoy the taste

dirt colored liquid

drenching all who stand

for something he doesn't quite know

where this is going

to make sense someday

smiles will rise as the sun

of my father it is he

thinks he can see the end

is so far from now

gray takes over the sky

and falling it is

something he cannot stop

the random acts

like we do not see the big picture. . .

nothing concluded 49

breathing through mud

and I can’t try

to understand those around me

hard enough

to understand myself

some sort of disorder

some will say

but

how do they know me

if I will not let them sit here

can’t see the ground

below me

from where I am

the desire to expire

come and gone without conviction

the sky appears

white tonight

as the sun

disappears until

tomorrow

time to forget

all that has been learned

and keep in mind

all that I already

know

short arms serve

no purpose when

pockets are so deep

not to mention

empty

tearing at seams

in the minds

digging to the roots

of who I am

or might be

shell of thought

left behind

shedding some skin

like a snake

and I lie motionless…

part of the whole

part of the whole
life flashing before
me stands a wall of indecision
to do what is right
for me and you know
me too well I guess they
forgot that they put me out of mind
my random words spoken softly when we speak
to me and tell me what you feel
when cats cross in front of me
stands staring into your eyes not
quite focused on my spot that won’t come
clean the place where I rest myself not
enough in my pocket to maintain the strain on
my soul weeps at your side where I sit
wanting never to leave me with my
thought I would never be here
my words I do not speak
to you and I think the same
spot over and over… I know you know not
what I speak of
and possibly thinking me strange
my friend random thought letters
arranged to you and one other to keep me
sane in the monotony of a world gone wrong
the opposing gender offers me much
confusion must admit since the son
of Catholicism has risen I have been quite calm
stuck in the middle of a season of change
and so surprised that the weather has not
out to cause any problems with the one
sharing your name
the jester sings for all to hear
and napoleon has given me something to smile about
hope you find the point…

nothing concluded 48

stays light later

again able

to get more accomplished

seemingly with less

stress

put myself in

the spot I was in

and had to get out

and for those who

got hurt

well it’s what

living and learning

is about

it’s what I have

been told

over and over

every time

getting too close

gets me burned

getting over

something constantly

and renewing

the old in order

to stay calm

nothing concluded…

listening to the howling wind

angry I may be
surely not mad
things people say
the actions they perform
tend to be opposite
no stranger to this
falling into this category myself at times
here I am two hundred pages later
my foot is asleep again and what to do
wait for blood
smile as I feel the sun’s heat
warming my bones so used to the cold
the winter has come to a close at last
my coffee has become cold now and
the windows shake for no apparent reason
Al is gone with the Buddha now,
will we ever see him again? losing an hour of
sleep and two nights pass
I listen to the howling wind…

nothing concluded 47

and again

you don’t seem

to understand

how you smother me

as I sit waiting

with every breath

you are pushing me further

from the spot

we seem to gravitate

towards nightly

never wanted

the same thing

and I know the eyes

don’t lie

so why should I

understand

and stop yourself

from being the reason

we will never gravitate

to that same spot

you say

you can see me

here why then

can’t you see the point

nothing concluded…

emotional jungle

random people

coming to talk

about the question

what is the meaning of life

simply what we make of it

all the same

things happen

every time I come here

what I say

many things

that may not make sense

I know you try to understand

up straight

as an arrow

piercing my heart felt

apology to those I have

hurt many times

running out of space

traveling many miles

away from where

I began this journey

so long ago it seems

I cannot start over

my head aches a bit

wish I could hear myself think

I knew what I wanted to say

not too far away to make a call

me soft but I do not know why

I say certain things and

act as if I do not know the answers

to my own question

everything I see and hear 

sitting again night after lonely night

they say many things

have not seen them yet

do know what I want to understand

sad at times

only what we make of it

seems as though

constantly swinging

rope to rope in a strange

emotional jungle

I must have created it. . .

the one who knows

on the subject of nothingness and emptiness
empty of everything that
to most people would seem to be nothing
makes sense thirty-five cents and twenty sticks
to show for it
killing myself so slow
slow enough to see each day passes right
on by myself
a new lung or two
much pain in the window washing
bums on the street
what makes him any different than me
doesn’t make sense
again I sit and think
about nothing and emptiness
if I am thinking about nothing
I am contradicting myself
and others may think I am strange
what is so strange about writing down all my thoughts
words don’t come out right
what’s right or wrong
and who is the one who knows?…