one of a kind

a kind that greeds buries
and screams vestige
so xavier...before they give you religion
or frameyou with political ideology
1000 miles away the place to go
piss in the wind if that is what's said
or be their dog, their rage or their satan
their christ their whatever
to get lost is only one infinity
of dust and heaven divides
let the ladies think you can't see them
let the pilgrims think you can't be them
know your soul...know your worth
be ego ad infinitum but lose the world
to sphere's.
let them back home hole you in bridgewaters
let them scorn your prowess
let them ignore the beautiful words you said


keep giving nothing and everything

orange skies and light rain

from the outside
of windows
the top of boxes
under the paving stones
in arms of sculptures
on doors of police cars

gates open for the locals to step through.

3 am eternal

calm phone lines?
market down for five?
or software code all complete?
i see his shadow from across the street
a well dressed salary man i suppose
with perfect sense of repose
a charming wife?
a doting child?
a sharp clean mind
while the parasites are out having social times
he hears their cheesy screams
descending down to hell
walks in a woken dream
outlining my paint soaked photos
and placing them in this world.

everything is alternative

why can't friendship be?
between two souls in a free world
where nothing is cool
and nothing is alternative
where honest, gentle and kind words
can occasionally flow
like natural swells
and waterfalls.

when difference is +

when - is +
find your self an imagination
to make your own philosophy
and move fast
jump around

i want to understand

i want to understand
but i don't
these lies and egos
strip animals and humans bare
as no-one but low plane sell outs
get the cheese

time to throw

the packed apartment
with jammed frames
glass panels
flipped photos
korean mulberry paper
electronic doors
all smeared in passion
thought and freedom
should leave here this week
go out to the streets
on gallery windows
outside the presidents house
on vital street corners
switchboards and circuits

i'll lose it all again
with no donation to charity for auction
where some nameless bower bird
can pay way too much
for crushed dust from a living human
a simple messenger
anyway
this is a house...not a home
and the acrylic oil gives me headaches
ownership is making me sick
i've no one to talk to
self pity is vacant

zaum language

your past holds no more
your ideals bring suffering

hex values

hex values in colour
a virtual feast for data
a shimmering hue in ocean tone
a magenta sky in fric code
a dusty hurdy gurdy potion
a wanderlust need for devotion

salient vicissitudes

tacit
arcane
meridians of longitude
wash through my brain
an open mind with wisdom is appealing
switch on switch off

salient vicissitudes

tacit
arcane
meridians of longitude
wash through my brain
an open mind with wisdom is appealing
switch on switch off

to hearts in the highlands

when your hearts in the highlands
the hisses and jibes don't hurt
but a lonely life awaits
if you don't know how to flirt
as all the interest shown
to those with the refined grace
get lost among the ancients
and leave you lost in space

half in the shadows..half in the light

as bends climb toward
fractured outlooks
from scenes cast
and escarpments

there's a navahoe 'nation' in arizona
that's seen here before
linked with those blue winged black and whites
and screamed eternity

pc room gumi - ku mi

ciggs will leave for two days
but it be already back my way
from these all night gamers
party people in rotterdam don't have this style
darker eyes than antwerp morocans
this mixed up muscle of northern asia
could take what they want
but don't.
their chaste women
...and i've met one for which i had time...
knocks the words i speak from me
makes me feel gay... not just celibate
friction out ... far too raw
while their looks of pass outs
touch the world with freedom

they reflect my beach bound brothers' coastline world
of sets and sharks, king tides and morning casts
of fitness with consumption and enjoyment

and their mountain worlds as fresh as home
far more people, more telephones
not as bright but seeming crisp as sight
more amber than emerald

so i'll wander lonely streets to foot by foot
i'll leave to hit the morning light.
and find this peak that strings out night
and let my skin glow in phantom light
from lack of sleep and clarity
to stop this mind racing
and reach a silent goal

hope to see it on the otherside
allready on the otherside
but i just can't see it
see it asleep on my train ride to chi on

winter chill

a winter chill takes time to thaw
frozen state is unconscious
a chance meeting can leave one breathless
but reaction is motion is life is pure
a word a look an act a neck
can take you back out to the world again
so contact that sphere
talk to that bird
paint on the board
leave it suspended
over ice-caps and train lines
climb limstone, see grapevines
and never wonder why you are so alone
as that old friend can care
your actions make stairs

i smell jealousy

your hate clipped and distant.
my life, a pilgrimage?
this is all i want, this is all i need
as cement bags pile up
opposite icons of wealth
thin lines, borderlines
where i belong is me
afraid to converse with those of my kind.

too many sit coms

too many sit coms drown out action
and they wonder why i have a nervous reactions
"she watch channel zero" chuck d

no puedo ser comprado o ser vendido

no flirtatious gelcaps
or idle threats
no insolent offers
or hedged out bets
no two to one shots
or lifetime member
can stir a life
with its' own embers
no puedo ser comprado o ser vendido

this rain this sky

this rain, this sky, this morning calm
leaves when i write about it
can't be grasped, only seen
from the morning
always alone
tranquil blotches
and perfect patches
like the skin on those i love
wind blows through souls
and everyone can
let it be.

spring rain

chimes through the morning
wakes me with longing
this world is free
for paths overlooked
by the vain and media frenzied
'bye bye badman..bye bye.'
bye bye badwomen..bye bye.
this art i throw and my self-kisses
are the only way i find.

so tear me apart and boil my balls
or leave me to walk and talk.

io

satellite rings
fiscom faynoord
brabent jiangsu
leiber liv safoo penta[p.

this old man

this old man
he played one
they played nick nack
on his tounge

MT wet rag

i'm a member ship training slice of glue
for fishing boats and mountains and rock steady crew
with placement untouched and circles to perfect
the orbit my world draws in such a drift imprint
a mouse for birds to laugh at
a leopard heart for soul to cheer at
a calming presence to bridge the difference
a lifetime spent in financial indifference
a legal alien trying to blend in
a boy on holiday with discipline.

dong hak sa

an eastern track
i ran myself
leading through foliage
granite stone shelf
limestone moss
lithe and fresh
springs to guide
baited breath
an untouched path
a clean fresh peak
a view to screen
a life to speak
a lionness heart
is far to social
for this leopards' heart
born mono, pure, devotional.

ode to the working poor

poor boy, dressed in black
police at your back
poor boy dressed in green
half dead at the scene
poor boy dressed in brown
everyone sees your frown
poor boy dressed in white
time to say goodnight
poor boy dressed in blue
too many with questions for you
poor boy dressed in pink
got women pulling you out of the sink
poor boy dressed in gray
the world thinks your gay
poor boy right in style
make sure you don't smile

move around

high plane dust
and low plain bullshit
leaves me stranded
alone
unkempt
despite triumphs and charms
and deeds worth eons
an angels hand would be nice to hold
on this day
a great man perished
at the hands of parasites

on point

'they hate you when you're clever
and they despise a fool'
they clear the decks for hasbeens
and glorify oppression
they is me... they is you
flux it for a place to do
flip it for a place to stew
rake it for a place to be
know it for life to key.

back at 21

back at 21 when baudrillard emptied out my mind
and i succumbed to the timeless way of building in the nature of order
repitition became reassuring, terrifying and mysterious all at once
i met a familiar soul
now today it twirls around
a 12 year cycle
a change of gender
a different culture
where time is a place.

allan kaprow's death

died peacefully in ca.
1927-2006
happenings spoke to me
his freedom and dignity
a peaceful man with little luck
he lived well i feel
his link to me is lost
no chance to speak to him now
i lose it to often..

piece on a bridge

i placed it there at midnight
on a board so sheer
a forty foot drop
to the tracks and the fear
housin' on a ice block stick
with lilac skies around
nothing in this hyped world
could hope to bring it down
but it was gone the next day
impermanent like the clarity
that grabs me through the night
and pleads me here to stay.

museums outside

outside the museums
telios goes up on trial
victims scream from lost chance
while i floated up on romance
sliced blue back through
crushed a crush
lightweight and unreal
a media frenzy banana peel
nothing to sing only soul to give
with help i think we'll both live

while carpenters take pity
and big men laugh
at autistic attempts to cheer
steel swift through ..with 5 and 10 cent women giving me the creeps
a lot of things get in the way when truth needs to speak.

wrong way streets

send me home to the mountains
send me home to the ocean
give me a formula to free context
walking backwards
leaves me undressed.

slicks on roads

oil colours dynamite the tarmac
with swirls and slips
unfathomable drips
a clear texture on wet bitumen
vigorous swells on an ocean foam
speak out sometimes
to me as well.

'oh that magic feeling...nowhere to go'

transverse acceleration

deceleration from orbital decay
fermented cabbage fills my day
and effort made
no way to help
a spring away from things i love

'owner without things'
'angel without wings'
'sharpshooter without rings'

space and time

while time is a place
why does it fail to bring
a needed word
a sense of unity
a lift i lack.
i get words all wrong
as they strain and deny
their own meaning
they mean far too much me
from a chosen few.

old form stills

cameras blink one and all
but old styles give a dual product
a negative which can fade
can flip the world
can keep you alive
be used for life
can reflect emotion
can balance all the seen commotion
provide a pastiche
for art with gaps
can signal worlds
represent devotion

behind every beautiful thing

behind every beautiful thing
there's been some kind of pain
some form of loss
some type of gap
some spring that broke
a boomerang that didn't come back.

behind every beautiful thing

behind every beautiful thing
there's been some kind of pain
some form of loss
some type of gap
some spring that broke
a boomerang that didn't come back.

negotiated meaning

negotiated meaning cannot fly
it sits and yearns and scratches
it flourishes and gesticulates and cries
it thinks too much about the past
carries too much luggage to have blast
it tries but is too humble
lost in all it doesn't know
it brings the rain, it brings the snow.

cult of identity

the cult of identity
is it born from fear?
is it made with reason?
is it life too clear?
is it transparent?
is it divorced
is it just words
coming from our force?