On // View

"The city of right angles and tough, damaged people." Pete Hamill
images from Jadite Gallery, Dec 17, 2009, showing Rick Poston's "Intimacy and Innocence" - Nudes in Black & White Photos" in which I was a model.
(post-note: First image was published in LeNegatif Issue No. 14)


Spice // Drop

Gravitational pull towards a soft landing.
Slide rules, sorrowful sighs and disatisfied lies.
Push cart can't go.
Delicate doe in a frost bitten bound
boardwalk to swan dive.
Spice drop soliloquy
covered bridges and catapults.


(The Fog)

Obnubilation as the synapses cease fire 
Grey eyed and soggysloppy.
Water soluable slide to
someplace remote enough to
hide the echo.

Considerate deliberation sings her song,
not contrite admiration.
Seconds and thirds,
pushes and pulled through the kaleidoscope.
Fractal forgery, trapped lemmings on cliffs.
Seaside dive seems so sweet but for the breath of air
stolen at the pause to commit.

The man with the baby skin
weave a lie so deep
oceans cease to
drain the sands from the vision.
He tell you ya gonna be a star and then
sinks and slays your spirit so sweet
seeking not to supply the sickness with the solemness.

Big mouth secret sickness say over and over how ya gonna be somebody but...

Neighboring // Titles

random books. random place. notsorandom. Nothing is as random as it seems....


Long // Run

Local train; long run.
Slippery slope disappear
near the weeping willows.
Sleeping inside the riverside rowboat.
Hide and seek speak to me in
worried whispers the world waits for
her savior.

The box said no one else can leave.
Backwards seat sing along
Beautiful blunders, force fed fall
over the edge into predictable plummet
Surreptitious sunshine slips in and blushes
when reproached by the
horde of lumen-starved insignificants.

Lining the shores seeking the rain
we hunt and peck and
rabble rabble rabble.
Follow through the open door
check out and slip away
Reanimate to escape the elastic people
Vocal chords tied to tongue and grasping for goodness.


(Mountain Song)

Dazed dozing eyes wide open
Free fall foliage
Iron giants stride and stretch their
Life lines under the
cool breath of god.
Listening to the notes, searching for
Synapse fire. Something
Recognizable or relate-able .... or
Carefully bursting the bubbles of
Captured concern
Disassembling during delicate dissection
Rummage through rumor and ruin.
Stagnation supplements stoical solution.


( Sit. Stay. Go. )

Systematic reclamation of the
Pieces of me that you left for the dogs.
Shuffle scuffle and relay race.
Let's all chase our tails, sit and stay.
A Rustle of leaves kisses our faces as we run rampant thru Hill and Dale spilling our pails over far yonder ya-yas. Sunlight steaks in out hair giving golden glow, a forbidden familiar force. She is a star that we chase in vain, always sinking below the linear finale. Lost to wander amongst the lesser-knowns and our dear aloof sultana. Scruples and seances supplement the distance, leaves all wanton and wretched in the place of a solid sentient.

Slip away silently sweet gypsy; they call you back amongst the vagabonds. Climatic catalysm orchestrated by unbounding charm- break the bonds of belonging and escape the tree. 
Closer to the sky but farther is the fall.


Black // Dahlia

Boredom is not becoming
even as the 
frenetic foes topple and twist 
inside sighs and solitude. 
Hurtle hastily towards the high noon. 
Spiral out and settle into the 
sterile sublimation.

(feat. Candace Nirvana)


Vicious // Cycle

Sticky sublimation twisted trust twists security southbound. Take a dive to stay alive and associate with isolation. Run rabbit run. Reality reeks of reunions and regret. Rebound to write it out. Force out the facts and face frightening foe. Escape can't come soon enough. Sooner to be selective than reflective of errors and passed judgments. Suicide seems to sanctify those that reiterate resignation, but in turn burns the bridges from the benign.  Step aside and stop martyring the dead. Mysticism and melancholy meets moral methods and sends the sacred to speak of silent specifications.

Running out of the pathetic patience which has replaced furtive fortitude. Eidetic elegies of erratic behavior has burned a hole in an otherwise hopeful heart. Fear is a fortress whose moat knows no bounds, and the fearless have no map by which to navigate. Once inside all visible vitality is eradicated in order to proliferate the feeble faults of fertility.

Stitches simplify sentiment from whence wicked worries wake sleepy dragons. Moonlight masks waterfalls on faces so that forward motion can follow selective stills. Stuck on staccato. Spit your haughty high hopes on salted surface and see what grows. Fallacy fakes legitimacy. Shifting story lines show selective memory in your favor. Forces fallout to satisfy some security-seeking need. Thirsty for thoughtful recognition of reality. Rumble in guts glorifies the sacrifice, feeding of futile forethought. No determination to stay awake for the feast. Flood rush of released penance from postponed persecution of separation.


(Mouth Like a Machine Gun)

Mouth like a machine gun, heart like a hand grenade. Light brigade seeking solution sends the search dogs to sniff out their prey. Hooves pounding the ground hardened of the sacrificial lamb, storming like thunder through the fields, nostrils flaring swallowing the steam of perspiration.

Seek ye like hounds, like thieves, like the monsters of folklore and fairytale alike. Pushing the throe of discrepancy to the sea and forcing it into the cauldron to sink with the leaves. Mists and magic and things like miracles to run to and rescue the oddities; With pen as thy sword seek to alleviate the agony against the seldom seen sideshow.

Heed the country, heed the morality of monstrous capacity, the lemming like cliff dive from the rocks of humanity. Rush the rest of us through frivolity into the dangerous degradation of sympathy.



Secret // Liason


Shocked to see me, she looked lovely in that red coat. It's like time and space stopped for her; ghosts walked by her side, and her angels fled in cackles and screams. This is every-man's land, this city; it belongs to us all, yet at the same time none of us.  The same solid grid dissipates into the river with only the skeletal remains of our ancestors strapped up in cables to lead the way to the ocean. It'd been a long time, little red riding hood, but in this city apparitions are inherent, with the water walls, there is no escape.


(Graveyard of Shells)

Snails in tunnels
lurching toward the
smell of simplicity.
Rain rushes towards the house and
suddenly nothing remains but the
Graveyard of Shells.
Culture clash with a lazy dash to
dream about dandelions and
open fields of fate.
Searching for strength and
my signal is low.
Candy crazed sugar rush
ridicules responsible rationailty.
Dreaming of deserts
disconnects the delusion.
There!  is space.
There! Is time.
There the tide has slunk
down and away to leave the
salt to sterilize and
send you into flavor-pitch.


6 // 7

6 continents, 7's too many. 

Forethought frontier hopping hoping for meltdown. Dingy sounds slide from vinyl in solitary confinement where the lines meet. Brittle bones ring out cacophany while the winter slips in underfoot. Alarms, slowing pace, curious looks filling a napping void. Dreamy eyes search the skies for answers in clouds and various shades of blue, blurred vision anticipates the stop. Manifested occurances inside the blink of time. How do you sleep so readily, sinking inside- do you not come to me energized and free? Day has broken and burned off, leaving room for more.

Heavyset eyelashes on cramped eyelids. Halfassed attemp to flee the city swimming in vexation and virility. Monochromatic moments mimic the jungle rough and tumble.


Rubber band snap of 
those that strap my chest. 
Heavy heave and sideways glance to 
disguise the mistaken identity. 
Veiled by dimmers and seat belts, 
time leaps into itself over the blue in her eyes. 
You rise up with you feathers and flurry. 
I sidestep and hide lost in buried worry. 
Spacebar blur and sigur slide into sunset. 
I miss the coccoon and the
ripping of my own dear 
sweet silk sack still stalks me. 
Shall I light another cigarette 
(to illuminate my face enough to see out the window)?


(Cry, the Beloved Country)

An autonomous chill sneaks up and sedates the swaying leaves into retreating into metamorphosis triggering nostalgia and nuisance. Shiny screws in a dirty window pane diffuse and delay the lingering light as it too secedes to a solemn sigh. Resignation rolls around my mouth but in due process is swallowed in anticipation.

At the bottom there is no escape.

Parisian streets, Portuguese feet sink into the long stretch. Countdown to deadline. Slide right by. Riots and raves, fireworks and faves. Linear vocalization in order to calm the masses. Heal with light, feed with space. Heed the cry of the beloved country. 

Train tales tinker tinker blink. X-Y axis yeilds high. Memorialize and feast on occular optimization. Open those eyes sweet song time travel.

Neon no you beter gogogo. Hair whisps and sweaty palms seems strong after so long. Flashback fall forward shake shake glow. Hip thrust who you trust now that the man is gone backwards flip. Feisty face pout past your bedtime alram clock hip hop hop. Time ticking space bomb raw raw seesaw tip it top it taste cheap shot. Talk a lot


Headless // Horsemen


(The Rain Scene)

Languid lazy day-
You are too good for me.
I lie in the warmth of his
Resonating loyalty and swim
Under the puddles.
Cat calls and chatter
Lonely gloom sinks on set
Today is the day we film the rain scene.
Hot chocolate and marshmallows heave and sigh 
letting out a hiss as the steam fogs up the windows.
Chips fall signaling the 
beginning of a comeback.


Tejo // Tomorrow

Mumbles through the floorboards distort my dreams,
whilst winds from the Tejo soothe my sleep.


Dirty // Hope

Little lapses into love and reconciliation

Shoot for the moon and 
Hope for the stars
Mirrors scar the unscathing

Long talks about dirty places
Faces forward to the sun.



Little indiscretions echo
across the valleys
that separate our points of view.

The proof is in the pudding
and the milk has been left out far too long

Wings spread wide with a run and a jump to


yet stumbling blocks trip and tear, thrashing me to the surface just shy of spectacular segue to solid ground.

Forte found in fornicated praise.
The search for everything begins and ends in the middle of nowhere, stark sterile no-mans land devoid of identity.


(Heart Strings Sing Staccato)

heart strings sing staccato
as anxiety rides up into me
jockyed by
heat waves and fever shocks.
Ultimately the future cannot be so
pressing as to be riddled with such

My own silence is
settled      yet      surprising. . . . . . . Have I nothing to say?
My mind's mouth is
sutured by waves of
external emotions as it becomes merely
the observer.

Martyrd by my own mystery
Left to decompose and desintegrate
Rot retreats to
Reorient into Reality.
Dreams transmutate to dispel the
horrifying bite of brass tacks.
You are, for me,
elevation and humility.


(Train of thought......)

Singing strings slip through thematic theory.
Tracks and bends
jumps and thrusts
Dusts of translucent time settles 
Showing signs of
Home hung hats.  
Always on the train
To somewhere. 
Thought to Thought 
heart sound 
hunger pangs 
resolution and respite in a 
resounding applause to
stand up for valor and 
feathers in hats, polo clubs and foxes. 
                                                           Exits stage left and balcony desperations
                                         woven into my thread 
                                    my fibers 
                           my being.          Fantastical fairy-teller gaze 
into your crystal ball and 
run away with me. 
Flee and fly to light up the sky. 
Climb lighthouses and weather storms. 
Paint me pretty colors to 
guide your way back 
                                                                                                                              when tossed to the sea.


Ledge // Leapt

...and so suddenly, sweet bird you have lept from your ledge as my heart has been beat to the bush....