Shelving Units

It’s been a while since I sat with myself.


So busy here finding, what fits on my… shelving units.


They hold what’s useless.  They hold me.


The worries in heaven, they fall here.


Like snow.


I collect, collect… Collect dust on my shelving units.


Organize again, I organize again… again, just so –


alone, I find myself here.  I’ll sit with you friend.  Don’t be afraid.



Now I spit because of habit, compelled by necessity, to fit the form of propriety, but taken back for the moment of haste, my soul is a goal that the world must taste, so rip me in, breathe me out, feel my tingles in your hair, and feed my story to your doubt – there – within – no more worries – just sin – heavy wages – broke – in tears – hearts earned – and betrothed to fear.  Make me what I was and you’ll see, I’m a cage for your heart, now please set yourself free.


Skyscrapers are flowers and trees, not men with disease

They build to the sky, to find what gives light,

their quest not to martyr, but to collect what is right

For them and their kin, and their family of friends,

Their circle of love is a boundary, and they leave for above

To gather what they need, and to take what their bodies seek – For the fuel of society is attention, and the atmosphere within is their reach


I wrack my brain, refuse to train, the liars in me, are out to gain

For what do I have, but a flicker of light, and a greed for mountains, not even in sight

Tear me down, or build me up, my heart cares not, my eyes are aglut

Will we find a better meaning, or search for what’s still not there?

Three sockets to fit my soul’s power, but not one to dare… I’d best prepare

The fear

As I sit here, I feel your eyes, they watch my soul and connect to where I dare not go

You have the strength, the power, and burn me to within of what’s close, not far

Rhyme with a rhythm and take me where I can’t see past – the only door


Channel just a second, a dark groove left me guessin

I look only for newness, and now my stop in the grove is use-ed

So clear, the greatest rhyme, burn me a goat please, and frame me my eyes

I’ve been better, but so gone, so far – this time is reckless and the words are brawn


My heart

In mind

So for what was torn down, don’t attack – build it up.  A cooperation and a floozing of flood goozers and broduzers for rum carrots.


Today I lost my cool

I decided to trash it, to no longer play the fool

I’ve been there enough, a long little stay, and now my breath escapes

To the rhythm, to the pace, to the sound, and alongside my heart to race

With every tear, every gasp, every moan, every fear, that I may lay down here

What’s important to me, I believe, I can see, I am free, no more chains, except for thee

eye can’t see

The room is dark.  Lights flash by.  A true reenactment, for the very first time.

My eyes are closed, but only on the inside.  I wait for nothing, and watch it arrive.

My cage is empty, except for my lungs.  I breath in, trying to think the beat.

Without rhythm there is no song, and without my heart, I am not young.


Quick, snip, snap and a blast – too warm to beat my heart out, and to cold to make it last

Feel a breath slip in, fit, right past – emotional outreach and a sucker for trash

Break the hit, split a rhythm, time fades where memories crash

One fatal heartbeat fuels the man’s last grasp