in the shadow of a wave
I met and become the bones
of fish

in the shadow of a mountain
I cry to El Shaddai

in the shadow of a shaman
I nail my feet to the ground
the dusty ground

in the shadow of a lion’s cedar
I hide, curled to his base
and wait for him to become

in the shadows of god
I sing softly so
he can hear

in the shadow, the plane’s mechanical shadow
I bury myself deep into the ground
to emerge again, not until the drop of nuclear bombs
have cleared them all away

the demons, and the bitter hearts alike
like a meteor’s blaze
swept, their crumbling ashes, across the endless black space
never to be seen, heard, felt ever again

in the shadow of the moon
Our astral eye
I cannot contain, cannot contain my screams any longer
cannot contain my Might
for I am free
to run along the belly of the Earth
the true mother, her lovely soul
to feel her compassion, to feel his great compassion
for all eternity.



the ice storm
the ice storm
the ice storm
comes upon us
a new reality
sleet white
the ground, the white ground is upside down
the great bird takes flight
above our gentle, lovely heads
our eyes
roll back in our minds
and we howl
until the orange moon’s rise
and set again between the nipple of the mountain
we are carried away
high, far away by the thunder and the light
the great bird in the sky
the light
the beautiful trident buries deep in his earth
the lion roars
the trees stand motionless
the man and the woman
standing as silent giants
watching from the highest peak
as the world melts
and comes to be
the bark, the tree’s bark
has grown
all over me.

-peace {be} to the world
pluto sky

classical silence

I sit here in the nestled blankets
of a 21st century bedtime story
the waves of guitar’s fingers
crashing across me, over me, under me

I hate to say it, hate to admit it
but I think I’m waiting
for something that will never come
I’m afraid, but I guess I will have to chase it.

I wonder when I’ll crack open all the work
I never wanted to finish in the first place
I wonder when I’ll fall back into bed with my art
my imagination, my creation, a cloud’s landscape.

Engulfed in thoughts, emotions, dreams
of all the endless possibilities, what could be?

{sorry I’ve been out}

oh fuck forgotten again
yeah yeah
the day
I ran away
from the world
through the blue torn sky
into a crevice
where I curled up like a dog
to die
hypothetically speaking
the day
arose its head
to allow me to
jump off the cliff
fall through
the sky

high tide is coming in again
it comes in so fast,
wish it would wash me away
where the voices don’t follow
and I stay happy
at least in the mornings
on saturdays.

look away, look away
yeah yeah
join someone else’s

-oh my

it’s pluto sky


happy day
is writer block day
when the midnight disease
fades fast away
when words once
swept you off your feet
two lovers flying to the
moon in their dreams
yes, the visions have
gone away, but I wonder
what to do, to fill my time
when I am not writing, my purpose
seems utterly vanished, my mind
wanders, I’ve forgotten the
divine truth.

{the sigh of sky}

does it make me crazy
to be so insane
to be so alone
in the early morning
the wind blowing across
my burning longing
the silver lining of
gray clouds of the sky
earth floating in her
black, empty pocket of space
mother nature holding her
like an egg

she can Dream,
but she can never see
the line between
we’re dying, dying to be set free

space to breathe
space to be crazy
stretched up my spine
extended into nirvana
like a snake, I shed my scales
fly away, and dream of
any other day from the end
where the world explodes
and my beast’s exposed
our faces, our eyes
white as ghosts

jack’s lament
had a certain charming
sorrowful sadness, which is faced
in the darkness of a howling night
music trip-slipped, tick wit tongue tied
the wind follows me up to the sea
along the hill side spills my sanity
tranquility held hostage
among the stone graves
where lightening strikes
at random.

we can Dream,
but we can never see
the line between
She’s dying, dying to be set free