< BACK TO WORDS

The Candle Man

Ram­ble on can­dle man.
So lit with fire he’s burn­ing his hands.

1.11.11

-

Hap­pi­ness man has a gun in his hand. It slaps pain from smiles of those with­out shoes. Who cant walk cause their toes fill with ache. They’re con­fused. Vio­lent streets and the echoes of laugh­ter. After its over he lies there awake. Tak­ing his sad­ness to crum­ble and break. Native tac­tics his range: impec­ca­ble. Accept­ing his fate as the mes­sen­ger boy. Liv­ing deceased so their liv­ings increased. He lives with­out peace. His guns ammu­ni­tion, a human con­di­tion. Hand­ing love to the heart­less. While he lives in the darkness.

11.3.12

-

Not sure why nobody told me. Why unfold­ing con­trol is a dead mans game. On a plane of intol­er­ance, both­ered by non­sense, wak­ing up. Feel­ing the same. Nobody told me that trees would grow to fall. All would come together in a field in the skies. Rely­ing on hatred they found in our eyes. Ris­ing below through the hills filled with mud. Blood cir­cu­lat­ing through the feath­ers of flight. Sight wrapped in hands and a vision so fear­less. Clear that the roads expect­ing expe­ri­ence. Not sure why nobody told me.

11.3.12

-

Paper­work again pre­vents a voice.
A jour­ney­men lost by a thought­less choice.
Last minute reliance pre­vents an alliance.
Shout­ing beliefs = igno­rant speech.
Dis­ap­pointed again for lack of atten­tion.
Not on the world but on choices con­tention.
No one else to blame.
Only feel ashamed.
Can only hope for change.

11.2.12

-

4th dimen­sion tim­ing lost.
No sus­pen­sion no exhaust.
Dri­ving wild beat­ing heart.
Lethar­gic meet­ings end­ing starts.
Triple action sky­line fires.
Relax­ing act­ing wine desires.
Lip­stick ruby shuf­fling feet.
Instinct duty incom­plete.
Rain­bow wrists and float­ing clouds.
Mak­ing lists and quot­ing frowns.
Out­side doors with win­dow pain.
Shat­tered humans mak­ing rain.
Math­e­matic ten­den­cies.
Under­stand­ing lov­ingly.
Geo­met­ric 4th dimen­sion.
No exhaust. No suspension.

11.2.12

-

Away from home while home is ripped.
Home i mean the sum­mer ship.
Home it cries with angel lips.
Hop­ing home is float­ing still.
Hop­ing my city’s alive and well.
Isle of the sea is under the ocean.
Much love for that sand.
Amidst the com­mo­tion.
Pre­vail for us my city please.
Natures mother. Put her at ease.

10.31.12

-

Dream genies float through win­dows.
Giv­ing wishes to those who won­der, adding light­ning to their thun­der.
Injus­tice era so extreme.
Walk­ing streets the streets they bleed.
Cob­ble­stones add smiles to feet.
Just keep walk­ing.
We must they say.
So they say.
Night turns to day.
So they say.

10.30.12

-

Por­tugese sun it cries on lovely souls.
Rid­ing beams of light through streets of pat­tered rock.
Intri­cate under­foot with the art of math­e­mati­cians, bright blue skies with florida rain breathe tem­per­a­tures of rich his­tory.
Eyes stare from their stone rest­ing places.
Stand­ing on pedestals, pride­ful yet humbly embar­rassed.
Rocky Cal­i­for­nia cliffs relax on wave mas­saged sand.
The bright homes dice into the hill­side.
Cob­ble­stone mazes wind us all into eachother.
Beau­ti­ful. Beau­ti­ful. Beautiful.

10.29.12

-

Machine con­trolled evenings unfold.
Com­pan­ions found in plas­tic molds.
Found in screens with screams for help.
Look at me and some­one else.
Look at us what we can do.
Who needs talk when we can choose.
To use the box to block our view.
Death of fam­ily death of friends.
No shak­ing hands we just press send.
A nation absorbed a nation lost.
Advanc­ing at a cru­cial cost.
Cost­ing our­selves the moments we’re miss­ing.
Ignor­ing us while our thumbs are twitch­ing.
Use it for love use it to share.
Just don’t ignore the world out there.

10.28.12

-

Aint no use in dri­ving hands to nations end.
Dri­ving land round ancient bends.
Appre­hend­ing what its worth to pro­long time spent after birth.
On this earth no one locks arms appar­ently it causes harm.
Leads to grief social dis­ease it makes us blind cant make us see.
Really though the feel­ings flow and so, and so, and so we grow.

10.25.12

-

The girl she was a gam­bler.
A hand full of aces.
Sweat­ing brows and clubs,
whiskey lips on spades.
They stared into her dia­mond,
dis­rupted by their hearts.
Melt­ing cubes ease the bite.
Drag­ging smoke through eaten lungs.
Her eyes they shine in the dark­ness.
Eyes that hide lies.
Eyes that hide aces.
Eyes that never lose.

10.25.12

-

A bet­ter man in hopes. He encour­ages the world around him. With­out under­stand­ing it him­self. The­o­ries on the shelf draped in pain and need­ing help. Ears plugged with words in search of enlight­en­ment. Fak­ing excite­ment just try­ing, and fight­ing. A man in a crowd who stands by him­self. Eyes wide open and vision impaired. Wis­dom insane and los­ing his hair. A bet­ter man in hopes. One day he may just give up.

10.25.12

-

The girl she was a gam­bler . A hand full of aces sweat­ing brows and clubs, whiskey lips on spades. They stared into her dia­monds, dis­rupted by their hearts. Melt­ing cubes ease the bite. Drag­ging smoke through beaten lungs. Her eyes they shine in the dark­ness. Eyes that hide lies. Eyes that hide aces. Eyes that never lose.

10.25.12

-

Meet me meet me. The road is stuck to my feet. The dusty shoes and claws mat sun­shine cross the shoul­ders. Wind whip­ping tails and tri­als of the depressed. Blow­ing horns long as the ser­pent in an erratic flurry of escapist poli­cies. Asleep in a trance with limbs dis­con­nected. Limbs mind­ful of noth­ing cept the unreach­able hori­zon line. A life of loss. A life of lost.

10.25.12

-

There must be some­thing I can do or say. To make the world come out and play. Encour­age life injec­tion sec­tions left inspec­tion right with affec­tion, ripe with elec­tions elect­ing the path. Inter­sec­tions left per­plex­ing. Elect­ing to breathe with each other and grieve, with a smile that leaves only when we do when we choose when we lose, we always win we’re grow­ing thin with joy and pain and oxy­gen, pain that rains across our win­dows down our cheeks through us it speaks, through us it crawls until we fall all involved and lost and break­ing. All is taken all awaken for the sleep. Well well well we can die with our wings or die on our knees.

10.25.12

-

Its com­fort­ing to know our bod­ies can fold, into every curve, con­nect­ing limbs at every inch. Tan­gle together in a reck­less beauty as breath­ing quick­ens. Our minds for­get every­thing. Noth­ing is for­got­ten in our bodies.

10.24.12

-

Mis­di­rec­tion in reflec­tions melt­ing clocks and res­ur­rec­tion.
Sto­ries told that make no sense with pock­ets full of use­ful cents.
Appren­der a cul­ture sort of out­side eyes for loose reports.
Retort in bro­ken words unspo­ken under­stand­ings some­what bro­ken.
And though a bar­rier leaps in front a smiles creep­ing as I hunt.
Embrace. The anythng.

10.24.12

-

He strolled alone in love with unknown.
Spin­ning chil­dren on the play­ground of life.
The streets gyrate with infor­ma­tive activ­ity.
Shad­ows of struc­tures creep slowly across
the ground that maps the pace of the lost.
Horns of the plaza dive through the ears
to quicken the steps and wel­come the fear.

10.22.12

-

Firenze speaks to me. It breathes through every cob­ble­stone inject­ing soular vibra­tions into the shoes. The city is drip­ping with artis­tic energy. Push­ing inspi­ra­tion through its inhab­i­tants to wrap minds with the under­stand­ing of what once was. Echoes of the the for­mer self. Burn­ing cig­a­rettes and pints in the melodic dance through the streets. The city has an entirely new face in its famil­iar­ity. I walk hand in hand with a wide-eyed wan­derer as we drift casu­ally through enchanted cor­ri­dors and around the gar­dens of stone. Warm bel­lies full of wine fuel our expan­sion. Embrac­ing us in a land of brand new duel explo­sions. We walk while inside we run. We grab hold of eachother as the exper­i­ment grips us. We are here. Together.

10.22.12

-

Jane the sweet­est
Jane from clouds.
God­dess walk­ing
rain­bow shrouds.
God­dess drift­ing
god­dess vision.
She speaks she
laughs an exhi­bi­tion.
Jane she moves she
just inspires.
Leav­ing all the
world on fire.
Trav­el­ing beauty
sun­shine curls.
God­dess Jane
the love. The girl.

10.21.12

-

In con­clu­sion.
Mes­mer­ized.
Elated.
Filled with love and pur­pose.
Tri­als of jour­ney­men return­ing home.
Mixed emo­tions.
Filled with new expe­ri­ence and explod­ing with an intense col­lec­tion of cre­ative ammu­ni­tion.
Rec­ol­lec­tions on fire.
The streets of Spain are whis­per­ing.
Wrapped in my lady’s embrace, awake with the com­forts of an unknown world.

11.5.12

-

Inspi­ra­tion fever­ish it rips through lov­ing with a kiss in trial churn­ing earn­ing stripes to drift through clouds a human kite. Despite insist­ing on for­give­ness liv­ing giv­ing life a wit­ness insub­or­di­na­tion nation elo­quence is fluc­tu­at­ing. Punc­tu­a­tion excla­ma­tion form­ing grip­ping slip­ping aim­ing brac­ing knees for dec­la­ra­tion. Procla­ma­tion: exploration.

9.28.12

-

She walked a line that no one saw with melted teeth and painted claws.
Up against an earth­ling wall with too much speed to stop and pause.
Moun­tain climb­ing with the pawns her feet roll dice to risk it all.
She walked a line to drop the jaws and when she fell. No one saw.

9.26.12

-

In vam­pire times when ambi­tion sub­sides.
We’re made into thieves with car­niv­o­rous eyes.
In tact.
So bro­ken.
Alone.
Awoken.
Asleep and swollen.
The walk­ing unchosen.

9.26.12

-

Evening tick­ets linked to wishes.
Free admis­sion to the sick­ness.
Bring­ing waves of impo­si­tion.
Tan­gled in the intermission.

9.17.12

-

It hap­pened when I saw her coast.
A grace­ful way with float­ing toes.
Across the room the room is spin­ning.
Who knew the love was just begin­ning.
Who knew it would weave and then cre­ate.
A place where only we could stay.
A place that ties our limbs in knots.
A spot awake where sleep can rot.
It hap­pened when I saw her coast.
Who knew It’d make our pain a ghost.

9.16.12

-

It seems my talk is rawest when Im on the road with pad and pen.
The obser­va­tions fall in place to make sure that my brain cre­ates.
Make sure that I change the pace to add a face to each landscape.

9.16.12

-

Feel­ing a feel­ing so real and reveal­ing.
Con­ceal­ing all motion to ser­vice the heal­ing.
Feel­ing a feel­ing the brain onion peel­ing.
Wheel­ing with wings on the road pas­sion stealing.

9.16.12

-

Lend me your ears.
Per­haps we can speak.
Find the same lan­guage amidst all the grief.
The lis­ten­ers curse in prox­im­ity now.
An instant reverse with tox­i­c­ity crowns.
King of the non­sense explor­ing the con­science.
Rev­o­lu­tion extinc­tion alive in entendres.

9.16.12

-

Am I going blind?
Phrases adjust to a stream of lov­ing.
Above me a trial with wings for the hov­er­ing.
Uncov­er­ing minds to wrap them in kind­ness.
Am I going blind?
Or is there vision in my blindness?

9.16.12

-

Dif­fer­ence clouds and tilted brows angled down around the crowds.
Angled for a sharp decline to make the bril­liance catch the times.
Make the bril­liance real­ize.
Its not so bril­liant. Not alive.
Left behind the futures mind a future built to just rewind.
Stolen wings are bro­ken wings awoken wings uncho­sen wings the dif­fer­ence clouds they have been swollen by the rain.
The sun is frozen.

9.11.12

-

Only lift­ing nim­ble fin­gers.
Only singing songs that linger.
Inner peace and inner hate.
How quickly equa­tions adjust intake.
At stake is noth­ing.
Ani­mals walk­ing.
Think­ing feel­ings should turn to talk­ing.
Dark­ness hours mean­ing­less if com­mon sense is just pre­tend.
Appre­hend­ing offered wake an answer bends our break­ing place.
Shift­ing smiles for the peo­ple deep inside is grow­ing fee­ble.
Grow­ing lethal know­ing noth­ing liv­ing just to push the but­tons.
Liv­ing lov­ing lov­ing nothing.

9.5.12

-

Enter­prise of dis­re­spect.
Ener­gized by dis­con­tent.
Align­ing eras over noth­ing lov­ing liv­ing hunt­ing some­thing.
Search­ing shoot­ing google loot­ing truth within with­out pre­sum­ing.
Assum­ing only one result insult­ing efforts cat­a­pult.
Blind eyes open drink­ing wine all they see are dol­lar signs.
Mean­ing­less exis­tence now with­out a pas­sion only clouds.
Sun­shine liv­ing under­stated jesus beard is unre­lated.
Enter­prise of dis­con­tent.
Ener­gized by disrespect.

9.3.12

-

Rid­ing with sheep in a chase with the shep­herd.
Invent­ing incen­tives to view us as lep­ers.
Col­or­fully draped in the beauty of bright­ness.
Fight­ing the star­ing and fires we’re light­ing.
The can­dle man he ram­bles man.
Com­bat in pol­icy hon­est and jolly.
Awake and laugh­ing and hand­ing out candy.
Brand­ing the earth drink­ing unfancy brandy.
Still steal­ing smiles and turn­ing their heads.
We can walk as us and they can crawl instead.

10.25.12

-

< BACK TO WORDS