tokyo quest

.our wandering romance is the heartbeat of my existence.

.seek out love’s madness.

O prophet, tell us time.
O prophet, tell us true.
O prophet, tell us wise.
O prophet, tell us mind.

O prophet, sing us sad.
O prophet, sing us new.
O prophet, sing us run.
O prophet, sing us old.

O listen, dull child & fawn.
O listen, made awful & calm.
O listen, bled honor & numb.
O listen, dawn lover & hope.

Advertisements

.& THESE ARE SIMPLY SMALL PIECE-POEMS.

night is simple. night is wide open & black.
there is nothing compromising about the night.
everything that exists among the common daylight.
exists under the blanket of the deep dark of night.
though, there are elements of unimaginable truth & wonder.
amidst the lingering midnights of our understanding.
nothing to fear. for fear has no truth, & those expressions.
without truth do not (after all) exist, indeed.
simple is the night, wide open & black.

.———.———.

you called me a mad genius & swore we would stay in love until we die.
generating moments where my dreams were realities. once & never again.

.———.———.

she is doing it again. she is crying as she sings.
to me, there is nothing like it. nothing at all.
she is magic. so magic is filling the entire hall.

is there anything she cannot do? is there anything?
no one else is home. tonight, we could be making love.
if only she was still young & here in my bedroom.

sweat twinkling upon her lips & brow. even in the dark, she glows.
the others sway back & forth to the rhythm. they are leveling me.
these dames have not a single clue about what they are doing to us.

organ began. drums creep. repetition upon the guitars.
humming together for the sincerity & knowing it is true.
could it have come to this any other way? never. no.

she is a goddess. therefore, i will sleep at her feet like one.
nothing to do but dance. dance to young-never-again-tomorrows.
& when it is all over, we can die, & that will be just alright.

.———.———.

O i miss the nights when you would take black & white photos

of yourself wearing nothing but your skin, leaving prints of each one

scattered & hidden across your flat for me to find

like true love’s own romantically innocent scavenger hunt

.pornographic paranoia of an egotist.

heart-beating, lip-chasing, ill-minding, tea-pot-drinking free-wheelers

licking pornographic mouths & swallowing sleeping pills

all i can do is crawl into an empty corner full of space, fed full of nothing, & fall fast asleep

to the blossoming tune of a subway-brass-symphony gnawing paranoid in the room beside mine

the erasings of illegal drugs are the only symptoms & diseases i have left

so sick am i – poisoned by mad love

supernovas forming above blind old men reaching, clawing, & whistling for your favors

young innocents stripping down to bare skin & promiscuity

harping outside of the kaleidoscope theaters & haunting the very air they breathe

i stare out at the gods on 100 & 21st street as they vomit marbles & heroin needles

into the happy, horny laps of pricksters & pranksters

harlot. gambler. sinner. ——- O Holy, once you were my Queen

O mad love, burn me down, pull the curtain ’round, & play my tiny tune, big orchestra

i want to drum on like a wicked snake in the grass; silent – though, still marking the earth – sun go out

i want to steal sailboats & rickshaws, passing time away in haze & fog

nothing but treasures & sins – PRIDE – to bleed dry this lonesome howling motherless child

so sick am i – poisoned by mad love

.schizophrenic.

it was as if i had been reborn into a land of dreams.
i woke only to the death-like slumber of others.
the heat circling around me drew my body cold.
there i wandered about, crossing over motionless frames.
all of them full of rest & dreaming. still, i wondered.
what put such animated creatures in this state of non-waking?

i pondered the ideas that crept malevolently into my written dawn.

with steps like the beating heart of a baby mouse.
i made my way through the dark, & then the light.
charming the earth ‘neath my feet, made evermore cleverer, each step taken.

haunted by memories of all that hides in the shadows nearer to that place of fire.
sweet doom coaxing me farther than ever i had traveled in those ages before tonight.
blanket me in your mighty bed, adorned with sleepless woe of now & forevermore.
from you I cannot possibly escape. is all that i am, the mystery of what lies are told?

teeth so deep into my back, i feel the dirt between their curves.
shame on you, coming forth to this place of lament & mourning in vain.

to sleep once is to sleep for always.
to dream is to rebel & pulse all alone.
a fitting end to an abrupt beginning.

.the earth truthed only green.

this will not be over quickly.
you will not forget my name.
the stains of dehydration & ambivalence will not be erased over time.
we are paused in a cycle of affinity.
still, they shall all cry “Havoc!” & we shall bare the mark.

the summoning of the gods.

let all who are illiterate come to read.
let all who are deaf & dumb come to hear & know.

twas a time i saw you cast a fiery stone into a sea of plastic purple clouds.
opening the center of your eyes, breathing ice & song.

there the stone stayed until the end of the second age of the world.

afterward, we became stars & burned out in the sky until we met right here.
in this very desert, we sat quietly by an imaginary sailboat.

mysteriously stranded beside us. we plucked at its oval-shaped mind.
striking light at its cover’s worriment.

never have i, O sky, seen you ablaze such as this.
cracking & crying beyond the green nothing.
the girl with the dark eyes spoke “my eyes are open.”
barking & yelping at clouds resembling devil’s claws.

mother earth is wailing in hell fury.
a paranoid wind of an unholy deity.

no hope at the helm. the boat born to sink.
that soft voice lingers on crying “i am only alive to die.”
what dawn is come whence biblical storm lye at eternal rest?
O trumpet, sound & hail onward; the calling.

this is stone. this is war. this is ending infinite.

slow passing, still. mindless chatterings of sweet apple pie.
our country & countrymen … & the world’s ending.

“i made you.” he said to me.

“& now the time has come for me to unmake what i have done.”

i never thought i would see this night. i never thought they would come.
i never believed it possible … the sky from lightness to darkness.

sleeping giants, aqua, & hypnotists consuming everything.

the rain never stopped. the seas swallowed all.
we buried our heads in the salt & the sand.
certain the end would avoid us – pass us over.
i held your hands across the Great Planet. i listened to your weeping.
i whispered sweetly & gently under the bohemian colossus.

make your peace with the earth tonight. tomorrow will not be.

& we will never be here again.

.o i am no prophet.

we must peek under the rock & hide deep below the sea.
we must topple the quiet blinkings & buzz softly among neons.
we must eat of their flesh & drink of their blood before it is all gone.
we must creep quietly into heaven & barge wildly into hell.
we mustn’t make a sound or we shall wake the sleeping giants.

i am no prophet.

tall stands the titan.

long comes the fall.

i am no prophet.

is it so odd to believe in that which is unbelievable?

is it so strange to imagine that which is unimaginable?

is it so sad to weep over the passing of that which never lived?

is it madness?
is it madness?
is it madness?

..to repeat in lunacy..
..to repeat in lunacy..
..to repeat in lunacy..

truths unTrue.
truths unTrue.
truths unTrue.

she is still so willingly present.

naked & vulgar inside my mouth.

.tiliana the beautiful.

& i shall not make the same mistake twice.

i listen as the waves crack the walls of my tin hut.
i am merely tapping away at the keys on an old typewriter.
i remain slow in my draw; the last pleasantry to go.

subtle yet charismatic. silly boys. silly girls.

like a juggernaut, i defile the city & raise my hand to its lip.
i fashion the red rocks & the seas among those left milling.
what is this? this labyrinth monument; debris of an enlightened empire.
O how i ache to watch it; the lighthouse. burn up the sky, worthy lovers.

i am forever present.
i will never grow old.
i am relative to it all.

shame on those who will forget my name.

come then. go now. it is true what they say.
i ran & stole the right hands of the almighty gods.
for truth, in the time before man, i was king.

shame on those who will forget my name.

then came her vengeance wild with a stalk of her pressing.
cloaked in the dress of a martyr upon her glorious wings.
she claimed my hand; a symbol of her glory & conquest.
precious love of a world whose existence you cannot fathom.

goddess, make of my broken body your brilliant playground.
goddess, i will worship the perfect sin between your thighs.
goddess, i beg of your sweetness & taste your filthy tongue.

i sleep to dream of you in your skin.
i wake to drink your sweat & tears.

we fuck soullessly, yes, & we make love – but only to hear our hearts beating.

shame on those who will forget your name.

& i shall not make the same mistake twice.

.the night my brothers & sisters came home to sleep beside me.

an unfathomable sight.

i am hiding under a periwinkle blue blanket.
watching as the angels begin falling from the clouds.
the blinking lights of the stars lighting their way.
the fall will not last long & the impact may cripple their bodies.

an unfathomable sight.

imagine the skies truly falling.
imagine the heavens rejecting these creatures.
imagine their wings in the wind.

an unfathomable sight.

i listen to them weeping with sounds i have never heard & cannot describe to you.
even now, the blazing flickering magic of their crying unravels my organs & un-thinks my thoughts.
i can see them clearly now as they reach out clawing at thin air; desperate.
O desperate indeed. simply to crawl back home to the foot of their beds.

an unfathomable sight.

all is quiet on the streets.
no one is awake but me.
no one saw them but me.
no one loved them but me.
no one can see them even now – no one but me.
they lye silent & broken.
spread thin across rooftops & roads.

an unfathomable sight.

i sit in awe for a moment or two.
who knows precisely how long exactly.
my eyes are drawn to a single angel.
she is the most darling being my eyes have ever beheld.
i know that this is to be the first & last time i am ever to take sight of her.
i wonder: what was her name? why did she fall?
who expelled her from that place? are we next?
i close my eyes & fall into a deep slumber.
i dream of the fallen angels; my brothers & sisters.
i am forever sorry that you were forgotten by love.
i will not be He; the one to forget you.
O what a night – in this – the city of lost souls.

an unfathomable sight.

.see children, the shadow’s unravelings.

wicked love of tyrant aching.
blanketing stars in the midnight across our sea.
you might as well stay in paris.
i will carve our names in this sand.
it is there that you shall know where to find me.
so swells the sea; my magnetic magical mother.
i will sing softly in the basement.
as the monster makes birth between your hands.
i am compelled by your love, little girl.

mighty stone sits waiting.
cellar door propped open.
moaning glaze over her eyes.

train blowing steam from our balcony.

mother. sinner. barmaid.
hypocrite. charmer. gypsy.

single touch & the screen goes black.

we will never see the coming attractions.
not if we are making love between the seats.
do not pretend. do not play shy.
everything you are waiting for is already happening here.
innocent sex. careless innuendo.
this is the hour. this is the time before now.
& all that remains is a foolish thought.

.no angels here, my love.

men clutching to daughters hanging nude from old chicken string.
his Holocaust grin sinking & sneering.
his busted jaw wired shut like an animal.
in the muck & the mire, he was musty, pacing.
my eyes; a plot of land where only seasonal larks gather.
i saw the devil in the mirror & wept – for I was an angel then.
even the mumbling, cowardly crows refused me.
i was dancing in the sand storm & eating rotten fruit from fallen trees.
under the moon, the prophets whispered, consuming the sound of silence.
the broken tambourine whistled brightly & out of tune.
all was remade anew within a ruby-wound octagon.

our revolution has made its way to the shore.

our turn on the gears has finally arrived.

it has already begun.