Election Night (Road to Ojai)

Night Trump was elected, punched a window out of my SUV, nearly bled out in the lawn. A friend tied off my wrist, drove me to the hospital where I received 26 stitches. Following weekend, played a show in Ojai, CA & wrote this.

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Oh Hello, 

There's a friend

There is the voice I thought some Lover tried to send… 

I met Her once before Time knew it could bend 

She tried Her best, but I still know our best begins:

"It's a little much. Can we do over again?"

>>>

Oh… Hell No

Who's womb is on a whim?

We won too 

Liberté's discourse is:

"Life or limb… "

I've seen the shift, you know?

The third shift… 

When everyone's been sleeping through the day that never ends 

I know it's late

But Love needs a latent friend

Firing back the echo that keeps firing him

You know? 

"You're fired… smoking on the third shift."

The Reich made up its mind

It's time for a cleanse

Fire with fire? 

Count them out or me in

A night of broken glass is a fight I'll never win

But there it is… 

There it is again

There's US... and Them

I'm seeing my reflection from an eye that I don't miss

You know?

Anybody can make a fist 

But The Third is an Augustly Turd to arbitrarily dismiss  

You know Judas?

Brutus? 

Shoeless dancers on the ether?

Cancers landing shanked answers into Caesar

Shall I cut the cloth any deeper?

By July, we'll all miss Easter

Then… 

We'll have time

When Easter meets The Fourth 

The Fourth will be Aligned 

If the Axis became the Reaper, Whom is You, I am?

Why here and what now, old friend?

What is I, and why can't it see?

Ayeayeaye plead the Fifth

To reassess Her rest in Peace

To bless Her silent scream for me 

>>>

Oh… Hell No

"It's never too late…"

That's that I hate

That's just the vomit from a Voice that led an ungodly Shepard to say… 

Do you know? Do you know, my friend?

I've thought about it much, and I can't think it all again

Is it too late?

Is it too late?

Love still needs a bastion of Hope to procreate

I know Her and Hell.

I know them both well 

I've been wishing water would mend the coins I couldn't meld

But I won't whine 

I won't complain

The Mother of my Lover sees a tunnel at the end of the light

Copper can only turn greener with brine 

Father of my liver learned to walk on alter wine

A frozen river of shared misery

Will not break Her Will the love of company

For every penny that shines with me

We're becoming ninety-nine senseless Dreams

For every dollar a blue collar bleeds

We live for the loving accompaniment

She liveth for a shared mind

And hell hath cometh

If Love must plummet

Love shall be wrung up with twine

Hung by the nails for which He binds 

Breathe in… 

Breathe in, my friend

Lean in, and leniency will glide 

The only way to free him is to let Her be His guide

Her noose is callow

Shoot the twine with an arrow

However wide

However narrow

He must lead the noose like a turkey leads a sparrow

When the Eagle cries

What's left still has the right  

To see the torch as not a guise 

Let her torch not cast a shadow, and let her crown not pass a crime

"Mother Liberté, send me a sign." 

To hear our Founding Fathers' Word in kind

I'll take His word with a grain of salt

And copper turns green with brine

I'll take His word in hindsight

But don't you fucking dare tread on mine!

I've fought the worst of you

I know where Seven K's meet their Essssss

My God is tortured, but my ears are blesssed

And God only knows how I've kept my eye out for this

Blind thine

Turn this godforsaken water into wine

Cower?! 

To whom is Empowered 

We pay the soldiers in rum

Our Eiffel Tower is a lady dressed in cum 

Shall I run?

Call my lady a Cunt?

We shall overcome 

Shall I tread the water as it turns to ice?

Or shall I let the light of Mother Liberté shine?

Call out the hack!!!!!

His ice will crack!!!!!

We MUST walk over the tears that blind our salted shrine 

Green… My newlyweds… 

Shine. 

Liberté

Shine. 

Love

Shine.

Thought?

Shine. 

till? Moonshine. 

Our Love is just the dusk of all the tears we've shed

Do you know? 

Do you know, my friend?

I've thought about it much, and I can't think it all again

One leg for the time, and another boot for you to shine

We'll cater to the rustbelt

I've felt the solitude and shame

I herd all-knowing consciousness, and I think it's heartfelt 

I take her accountancy at face value

I'll walk on ice for all whom wait 

If all whom love Love… 

If they… 

If They… 

Could only love to hate Hate

I could point my latent finger yonder back-t'ward the Pearly Gates

I'll tend the flock of fickle farces

I'll pretend that I am fake 

Fuck the Wolf. 

Fuck the God who made that godawful shape…

Fuck the Love that left the time that left That space 

Fuck the world that my Mass must displace

Oh, hello you fucking Whore

Put another dirty needle in my veins 

I've done this before

And I've been tamed

I've died of your cancer, and I've died in Eighty Aids

I'm uncertain that I'm positive 

But I know blame

I've never been a stranger to Rage

Is it He?

That dude never sleeps

He's the One…

Is He the One?

Yep. 

He's the guy on duty when there's no one else to blame

You know that guy…

Oh, hello Goodbye

He's the one that never cleans the vomit from the meal nobody ate

>>>

Oh, hello. 

Someone say, "Voice?"

I found her cradled in an Osprey's kiosk 

Rocky mountain hoist 

Voice?

When in doubt, don't heed the noise

Strike a poise, end with the greeting that begins:

"I highly recommend… 

The sound of a good friend"

I'll even lend the hand that amends the hand that points

Any fucking hand can make a fist. 

What did my fingers miss?

The central nervous system sent

Its shadow to Narcissus

Fucking hell is dripping down my wrist

His Sun sent the message, and I missed it

But I found One in the Love of the Omits

Time itsElf is greeting "O" with this:

Mass displacing ohms replacing shit 

What I can't get over is every sound that meets its deflection with a grin

When I see the finger in my reflection, I see a friend 

I hear a greeting, and that greeting whispers… "Bliss"

>>>

Oh, Hi.

Goodbye again.

"A Poem" (Denial's Attrition)

I sent out this poem verbatim to a hotbed of apathy one week before the 2016 election. It’s about the end of the human race. Humans vs. Mother Earth. Again 2020.

"A Poem" (Denial’s Attrition)

November 1, 2016, A Travel Trailer in Shadow Hills, CA

1 Someday we'll jump off the runaway train

onto the last grass on the last hill

2 on the run from the voice of denial's attrition

3 which still stands as her only witness

4 We refused to use the accused's evidence

5 the rampart's lone exhibit

6 was evidence only proof admitted

7 Choosing invisibility as an excuse to exercise inadmissibility

8 an echo for every voice that refused to listen

9 On the run from our own admission of volition,

freewill rules us innocent

10 Appealing to our most vulnerable senses,

consensus favors denial on

11 trial with implausible invincibility

12 accusations are suspect to overruling their own suspiciously unruly

13 inauspiciousness

14 Unfit to stand, much less run with no defense,

we know whom to blame for this

15 We judge our denial while a cheek turns a blind eye for the trial of less than a century

16 Forgive luck for futiles casting blank stones slated to arrive at our wake

17 She accepts her sentence humbly on a high horse with the voice of our memory

18 The good book beguiles our sardonic smiles with infinity

19 Someday we'll jump off the runaway train onto the last grass on the last hill

20 on the run from the voice of denial's attrition

21 On the run from our guilt and feigned blame,

her chains will begin to drift

22 On the run, we'll begin to feel her infamous shift

23 With the case against us dismissed,

denial's attrition will begin

24 It begins to accuse us again…

25 Our harsh ruling unduly jeopardizes her sentence, fooling double jeopardy with penance

26 the faithful turn injustice on end when piety puts its own fate at risk

27 driving morality up the wall,

exhausting its resources like piss in the wind

28 On the run from the voice of denial's attrition

anything we say or do may no longer be used against it

29 the use of fate as a noose is still permitted by volition

30 Fate, cousin of preordained farce,

forces free will to its own evanescence

31 Fate, destiny's acquisition, uses naivety as weaponry and double jeopardy as penance

32 Fate, the great shapeshifter, may choose denial over volition

33 at the discretion of all life's earthly lessons,

fate may take human life in the barter

34 Gaea will thank us for our martyrdom

35 Fate, father of Rasa, author of all earthly sagas

in the hands of tabula rasa

36 Fate, the blank slate, may chose to use its pen as the last nail in the last coffin

37 Someday we'll jump off the runaway train onto the last grass on the last hill

…on the run from the voice of denial's attrition

38 Someday the tables will turn for the wrongfully accused as she admonishes us still

39 the last nail will stand trial as our last witness

40 Someday soon, the wrongly accused stands in our shoes

41 we will stand trial for denial's attrition,

in defiance of our own free will

42 Someday we'll jump off the runaway train onto the last grass on the last hill

43 On the run from the voice of denial's attrition

44 You and I will be the last to hear its unwary and incredulous echo firing back at last

45 from a lilting whisper to a shrill

46 On the run from the voice that comes back to haunt the ghost we entrapped

47 the fact is the past is the last voice which it ever told not to tell

48 Our runaway train's innocent claim is already arraigning itself

49 At last, our past is paved over en masse by declaring its first and last plea of "guilt"

50 On the run from the light of our past…

51 As our past claimed that our last shot of shining was just a shadow cast by the fire beneath the last still

52 On the run, our last shot fires back at our past

in a last pact to kill or be killed

53 by the light of our last moonshine,

our lilted echos are shooting for the stars

54 You and I will be the last to see our past denials shoot their dunce heads in the clouds

55 as they provide us with our last bit of shade from our last shot in the dark

56 You and I will be the last to hear our lilted voices echoing our curtain call as we bow out

57 You and I will be the last ones on the run…

58 On the run, our last pact has no use

for a backfiring gun

59 On the run, we can't shoot for much more than the sun

60 Jump the gun from the gavel to gallows to the grave

with only grief as our plaintiff, our past paves the way

61 With two words it's confirmed, "court adjourned," in the cesspool where life breaks

62 From a warm little pond on an island beyond, life carries on in our wake

63 From stardust comes gold, without yellow brick roads and no voice veiled in curtains of shame

64 With no fear driving absolution's curtain call up the walls of hyperbole's one-way race

65 We leave her in ruins, tattered, cheated and abused

battered beyond earthly complaints…

66 Our past as we know it, beaten and broken, becomes golden to a new earthly race

67 Standing trial for the accused, walking miles in her shoes, life's on the run for life's sake

68 Our past as we knew it, tattered and ruined, lives to see the shoe-in the mess we made

69 Grace will surrender our waste as it renders itself home to a new road freshly paved

70 Someday we'll jump off the runaway train onto the last grass on the last hill

our last rites will be read by our wrongfully accused

71 Someday the tables will turn for her as she admonishes us still

72 She read us our rights before our present passed through our last mass

73 displacing all that matters in man's free will and testimony

Atlas & Sisyphus

Atlas and Sisyphus are rolling t'wards a precipice 

The weight of the world comes tumbling down

Sisyphus got used to this, and Atlas just began his shift 

Philos fell from grace for all whom now bow out 

Some of us will bite the dust, and some will fight the afterlust

But all of us must accept we've lost this race 

The arc will bend t'wards justice, but justice lives through dawn and dusk

This is just a memory to us whom stay in this race

Atlas and Sisyphus are rolling t'wards a precipice 

Atlas takes a knee for a moment of truth 

Atlas says to Sisyphus, "How do you make sense of this?"

Sisyphus replies, "Time takes no refuge."

"Every star will shine again," Sisyphus replies to him

"Helios will rise again, and so will you.

Attrition makes its mark on us with Hades rising from our dusk

It's nothing but a pause for all that love can do"

The tortoise sees Eleutheria as she's beset by her own sun

But she is still beguiling us, on this very day 

For the distrust of populous, our founders set us back amongst 

A field of poppies for needles in the hay 

The hare has won a shallow race, and liberty must not be defaced

We must accept this fall from grace as any democracy should 

Democracy must persist for Gaea's Atlas and for Sisyphus

Who taught us democracy must not wear a hood 

Part of the Many

Begin at the beginning

I'm only a part of the many

But there's only so many

Spying flies see sixty versions

Of the same white lie on the wall

Their larvae begin

Stall.

For time is infinite and you're at risk 

If you seek time turning

You may live it again

If you wish?

Upon a star

There's a dissolute breed

They feed on your larvae

And your resolute greed

How shalt thou speak? 

If you've already spoken

You've opened the door

If you've wished upon a star

How far and what for?

Prey for the sorrows

For they're not shades of gray 

When the stars see the world

It's all in one time, one place

Speak through the insolent wind

Blind the hollowness refracted

Contracted by time-space

Tomorrow is the same as today

Free will is the distance

Between time and space

In every version of yourself

There is a way

Why is Happiness Picking Up a Penny

Why is happiness picking up a penny?

Why answer an interrogative simile?

A red rose grows, overthrows without water

It's taxing, planting seeds in a trodden garden 

How does one dig a whole parting, with only Howe's boots and arms

Without splitting up routes or parting reign over the yard?

Out of the blue, there are remnants of red 

Coating the sun that never would set 

On a night like tonight, there won't be a star in the sky

After tonight, look eastward for the stripes in the new red sunrise 

If there ever was a night to light the storm on her harbor

Tonight, her ebb and flow garnishes the water she's guarded 

Lightning will strike twice, once garnished, twice garnered 

Fighting against the whole sum of our parts imparted 

The demon in diminished returns is, it shifts with every charter 

Stick a feather in its Cap and call it after it's bartered 

Tonight, her fight adds up to a feigned reign trickling down the half-hearted

The only king is true democracy, and disarmament is her only knight in shining armor 

I'd rather see her Burn than reign, but I'm open to both to disarm and restart her

She's well aware that she's watching Washington crossing the Delaware

It's frozen this time around, as well, but it froze half way so there's no turning back

The ice must crack, Many will drown, Many will freeze with Washington and

Jefferson said we’d bleed for it 

There's nothing else in the world worth it 

Why is happiness picking up a penny?

The riddle is begging for a poke

What happens in past tense, when it's figuratively breaking up to forgive me…

The riddle is literally broke

Figuratively flimsy… 

Flimsies and a hearse, a five-folded star, an alleged curse

The goons of the occult introduce Wall Street's feeding frenzy

Then freedom itself finds its own way of winning

The asphalt hell aligns a grimaced plan for grinning 

For phonies and flimsies… 

For every start worth saving

The brash brine puts a dollar in

For every heart of David

Where's half the mind of Solomon?

Why must art claim him?

For every copper mine calling him

He targets the market that shames him

For not every water has bittersweet freshwater sludge AND brine to mix it in

For every heart of David doesn't have a son like Solomon

The copper fields lie like they fly like the wind

The robber yields perjury, prison yields a citizen 

Stock market tames not a cent that its appraised 

If you work at a bank, you're bending over for grace

A penny's worth twice as much in its copper weight 

Why is happiness picking up a penny?

You don't know it's coming till it's nearly passed you by

Zoom in close before you bat an eye

Break your back bending over, lose your balance, get hit by a car

It's not worth much until there's a hit on your head

If it's your head, you're lucky you don't have a tailbone full of lead

Your assassin is here to deliver you to the aether, Mr. President

It's obviously a good play, so it's not

It just jumped off the balcony and yelled something in latin

Why is happiness picking up a penny?

For every cent it's valued, there's more sense in it than me

Why is happiness picking up a penny?

Give it your own two cents, you senseless gimmes