Refugee at Home

Hey – no friends here

Better lost – no one better than myself to be near

What’ve I got – to fear? To scream

That’s where my heart points, and there’s no room for sport

But I can’t – my bind is taut

And I hope for breath – so my mind, my voice, my message – is not naught



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


Stock dreams are lead to me, re-up-rise, and freed to be slain, slaves, killed as braves – the heart rendered open, lies open, to grave, masters breaking free, my heart is a weapon that they only see, lead to me my own mount and fear vision of grind, the world a heartbeat and my mind on my sleeve.  Tear it right off, it’s not too insane, leave me in troth, a sloth of this game. There I am to see, miserable lights, glaring at me.  But here we go now, the goth has his tree, as free as I am, am here left to run as a serpent king set free.  The technique is imperative, and vital to the core, of the message of what’s spoken, communication is no whore.  Love her like your queen, and be beauty to her dreams. Learn the words unspoken, the gospel in between.  Slivers like saliva, my mind it breaks to be.  Renew the world of innocence, and let her be your queen. She like fire, and cooler than soft, my ring breaks free from this world… undone my lovely moth.

Immaculate Stagnate


Spotless imagination, I wander through my mind. There’s nothing here but breeze, and I tire as I try. To find a place, to feel a trace, of the wonder I once wandered, and of the freedom I did find.

Terrors here are blunder, I get turned again under. The tide rises up, my board dives to plunder, ready or not, my ass was washed asunder. Carry me, care for thee, where my mind froze, I wonder, “Is there ice here, or my brain holding thunder?”, then “Can I squeeze together everything that I had, more than I was, desire is my plunder, but what chance of my freedom, there now wrapped into my summer”. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. Tear me up now and let me show, my shine is free, my sun is me, and where my heart left to set her down, forgetting about the bout. One soul there, another inside, will I wrap my brain around her, and kill the bird who does not fly. Or will I hold my light, a mirror to show, reveal to us both the care of the world and the shadows that know.

Not to be seen, senseless adream – oceans turn on sea, and salt washes the wound clean. Won’t you hold my hand, these missing pieces adorn, a world once made of sand – I’m leaving the scorn. A place to be beckoned, to be seen as a storm. Tear me down world, and let me live as unborn.

I’m wrought I thought to naught of sought where ought be taught and languish language caught. Be free to ride, skyborn where dreams – a vision of faeries – are life born in seam.

Traces are planted where eyes cannot see, my mind watches scarcely for things made between. The other side of turnsides, where bridges are brought down, reaching out for the sky, never leaving the ground. Burn, burn, burn me around, and leave the leaves to each other, only as one would dare be ground. Her grocery stores bore holes where hearts discern more, my mother broke her womb to carry the crowd home. She finds a new blossom, and tears the stem free from the yoke – there are missions to plunder what will never be found.


Walking through the mountains, through the trails, and the trees and fresh air, you find a small shack with a door.  You open the door, and peer through it… It is a portal to another world.


Stars We Are