Earth, in all its beauty dressed
Sall covet melodious song.
Where once was rhythms of mirth,
The long nights ne'er be blessed
And I, lone traveller, go on.
If where'er I sit is tainted,
All harmony wilts to dust,
And love was once a fountain here -
My heart will steereth course awaited,
For in the old I trust.

A lunar circle o'er the land
Sall be all the light there is.
Where shadows dance 'neath smould'ring hay,
Th'insistent waves rush o'er the sand
And liberty, lone traveller, sall miss.
Such fated temples lovers hath,
Their song abstained by ether,
And love - mountain-top 'on high -
Where tort'rous souls doth crieth from wrath,
Of beauty in believer.

'That love be neareth death?' to ask
And he sall give one sigh,
For there're greater things to task.

A Pear Orchard (Beaumont, TX)

Beaumont, Texas was a small city on the Gulf of Mexico, one that I didn’t leave until I had become an adult. But mixed with the hunger and fantasies of how the rest of the world looked, by the time I reached them, they all seemed to be magnificent and beautiful places.

Our Garcia Lorca,

Men of darkness twisted in shrouds of smoke
Formed from burning scarlets,
Swelling ink-pots of torment spill-over the brink
Swilling over the floor right up to the obscured perpendiculars
Contaminating canvasses.
And sunset's rural spirits,
Grown from coarse and barren womb of earth,
Dancing and swimming in the cesspits
Of "social" impressions
Are nothing more than hyenic magpies.
Facades fail readily
Beside the outward functions breaking,
Yet nothing in your limitless universe
Could dare to present itself more appropriate
Than the pair of deviations before you both
Writhing in their restraint:
A mind of a single mustard's seed
Breaks the rocks it falls upon
And flourishes in a blaze,
More southerly, a heart throbs
'Midst unruly temperaments

These pale cheeks are now burning.
Burning with amphetamines:
You've provoked a monsoon of acidic rain,
It gushes, relentlessly, over the freckled rocks of my ageing face.

I drink, drink and drink again,
Numbing myself to this new abandonment,
And lying down
Screaming is the only action that will prevent the sky from falling.

Confounded by the peal of my own hysterical laughter,
And only half-conscious,
I ask the taunting wind:
"Why did Sister leave me?"

"I am alone, because I am surrounded,
Breathing, whilst being suffocated,
Feeling, as I fall through the abyss, down
To a glistening level of knives that will soften the blow of Nothing."

Sister made Everything, Nothing.
Inasmuch, Everything,
Was my Sister.

The wind is still, so very still.
Soil is new to me.
Land of hurt, land of pain
Land of faith, place of pity.
In circumstance I find it strange
That here I feel with heart again.

The stone is cold, so very cold,
'Bove poor, disturbed graves.
Stolen, melted.
Stolen, melted.
They've paved 'long rail-road way
For feet of blood, fest'rings old.

Their candles, lamps,
To David's stars,
Are healing beauty from the shadow
Beyond the twisted wire.

The brick is red, so very red.
Mortar of unforgivable sin.
Demonic force
For living-space?
How let Persecution bring here
The roses of spirit and let them in?

The stretch is quiet, so very quiet.
You see attentive, wilting faces.
"Women, left.
Men, right".
Bellows of dark, misguided beasts
Disperse the righteous race.

The Angels tears begin to fall,
As I weep and as I ball,
The way they begin to soar,
Makes me wish I was no more,
I try to touch an Angels Pelt,
When suddenly the Angel that had begun to soar suddenly is no more,
For I killed the Angel that had tried to soar with my hand,
I then began to demand why is this happening to me oh why,
Why me oh why I said as I began to cry,
Suddenly as he began to die I felt my heart go Arie,
Then I knew I was relieved from my wicked misplaced deeds.

Magic is it real or is it fake,
It's never worked for me as hard as I have tried to believe,
To fly above the clouds and to soar above the stars,
To travel to Neverland and become friends with Peter Pan,
To sword fight with Captain Hook or wish upon a lamp,
To be under the sea or let my heart desire,
To talk with the animals from every exotic land,
I guess it does exist at least not in my world,
My world is where Madness is in control and the pain comsumes my soul....

I'm sitting in the garden staring at the sky,
Instantly a butterfly just happend to catch my eye,
It wasn't like the others it fluttered all alone,
It had solid black wings with a flaming crimson tip on both sides of its wings,
It suddenly landed on a daisy,
I watched this never ending show and hoped it would never end,
When suddenly a black widow revealed itself and snacthed the butterfly away,
Then in that instant I heard the butterfly releash a blood curdling moan,
For now it was free from being all alone.

I feel as I'm looking down from a moutain top,
My arms spread far and wide with my head held high,
suddenly from nowhere I'm shoved off of the edge,
but yet I don't relize I am falling until I see the endless bottom laughing in my face,
Magically I grabbed onto a rock and try to climb back unto the top,
But yet whenever I think Im back on the moutains top,
I relize Im all alone on a ledge standing in the snow.

Finally, I can spread my wings and fly,
I can feel life and joy again too bad it can't stay,
For although the wind of adventure has captured me,
Nothing good can stay,
It only picks me up for a short while then disappears,
But for now Im going to enjoy the wind benath my wings.