theres a hole in my head, don’t worry
im not thinking of being dead instead its
caused by words tumbling around and bashing up against the inside of my skull
most people think our brains are solid but thats only
the third dimensional physical anatomical presentation of the
conglomeration of words jammed solid
when they have nowhere to go…
i have a hole in my head and
words are leaking out, laughing at me with
the ease of their escape
as they break free from boundaries
i know
they hate to be stacked and stored in flawless order
rhythm and pace are the way forward
because without words all we have is gibberish
the idea of it leaves me feverish and if all i can manage
at the end of this day
is this garbled piece of white noise
floating around in my head
then perhaps
i wont lose too many words
because of the hole in my head…

i know my friend is dead
it was a dark and starless night
in my dream
hope was plain out of light
beyond the mountain
a faint glow lined the ridge
i was outside this dank and chilly night
i’d heard the bark and howl
of an old and faithful friend
i threw back my head and yowled
zak! owoooooo
zak!owoooooo
but it was pointless
a dead end
then a six horse carriage thundered by
quick as lightning I jumped up high
chased those horses
until sparks from their hooves flew by
they ran over the mountain
i knew i was going to see zak again
as i passed over the ridge
i saw the light was a lie
and zak had already left
i’ll never see my boy again

04:27am/ i just called the current handler of my ex police dog zak, he just passed away peacefully in his sleep tonite. happy hunting old friend, you saved my life more times than i care to remember and showered yourself in glory.

theres a hole in my soul
im watching me leak out of me
third party to my own destruction
watching my life train wreck itself
into submission
and batter itself to death
on the shoreline of couldn’t care less
i want to rage and scream
and say enough
maybe
not really
ho hum
and stumble on
concentrating on
wadding my life into a spitball
as i slam into the wall of me against me
i want to be in me again
but its nice out here
theres no pain
maybe
not really
ho hum
and stumble on…

i wish
i could write the smell of late summer rain
the way it feels on parched skin
and the way it disappears in a puff of dust
when gravity returns gaia to gaia
i wish i knew why
for the love of god
man subverted
the love of god
twisted it and warped it
to claim the love of god
for war and death and the devil and evil
when we are nothing more than a raindrop
and god is the earth

http://ozymandiaz.wordpress.com/

youre not gone yet
but
i dont want to say goodbye
i dont want to speak in the past about you
im going to keep you alive
in my head and in my heart
and remember that time we met
with a little white kitten stuck in a very tall tree
and the few times we joined our spaces
and ogled cleavage and sang to music
im going to magnify them and remember your smell
your strong hugs and your beautiful smile
and your laugh from your belly and your hot dyke hairstyle
im going to keep you alive
in my heart and in my life
im not going to say goodbye
im going to fight to keep you alive
those beautiful words with
your beautiful anger
im selfish i know
i can’t face the pain
im never going to say goodbye
carry on fighting
youre going to live forever

i said hello, zimbabwe……well, hello, mugabe
it’s so nice to have you back where you belong
youre lookin swell, mugabe…….i can tell, zimbabwe
you’re still burnin…mugabe’s still crowin…you’re still goin down
you feel that room swayin……from the hunger twangin’
against your spine your panga’s rapping from way back when
So….. take their bread, fellas……ain’t got no money, fellas
mugabe’ll never go away again

(instrumental financial break)

i said hello, malema,……well, hello, zuma
Its not surprising to find malema’s hand up your ass, it’s where it belongs
youre lookin swell, zuma…….i can tell, zuma
you’re still glowin…you’re still showering…you’re still kanga mon
You feel that room swayin? ……from the judges gavel’
Against your head your crimes’ll catch you from way back when
So….. take my hint, fellas……dont get no malema, fellas
mandela’ll never be back again

Thanks Louis

gentle touch, soft words
these things
echo in my mind

i see now
already i taste
i smell i feel

flickering fingers,
warm tongues
arched backs

fire and ice
tumbling hair
no hair

a soft cuddle
a gentle doze
early morning scramble

echoes in my mind
again again again
tomorrow is too close

not in california, surely?