Under the Flaring Nostrils of a Delinquent Dreamer

Some place slightly out of touch is the place where the passion brings the dusk
On the other side of a sealed door a mountain waits unanswered
The challenger throws up his gear and scales the face,
And shreds the hills and demands a place,
Upon his imminent return.
Some time later on the same ole same ole smoky little hill,
The doors remain unhindered rusting away just the same,
And the challenger still continues his trek onward,
But he will not make it all the way there,
No there is but naught to be done,
Try as he may and he truly shall,
Tomorrow will not come,
Not for him,
Not for I,
Or you.
Still he'll try it,
The door always ready to be tried,
Just the task of making it all the way to the end,
Just the road that must be traversed waiting to be trodden,
Just this matter of commiting a ritual suicide, just as easy as pulling out a single cigarette,
He scales the mountain his climbing axe punctuaring the side so swift and brutally,
It is a strange wonder that the mountain does not spew out a fountain of blood,
The ruby jewel of life from the inner workings of the challengers throat,
But alas it will not be, he cuts into rock easier than he woudl cut flesh,
And all his blows are pinpoint precise and deep,
Again he thrusts his axe forward and connects,
Again he finds a place to put a foothold,
Against the wind he transcends,
But he does not open the door.
It is a boy some time later,
Who is of little consequence to this scene, who makes his way up the mountain side, but then goes horizontally forward, and not skyward in this challengers vertical fashion,
It is this child who opens the door,
Because he was simple enough to look under his nose,
Enlightenment is not in the heavens,
It is in the mountain,
Through that which is here,
If you look inbetween the crevices,
You'll see it,
Right there.

An Eye Towards When

When the light falls into the final sleeping hours

When but a shadow is fitted weakly upon a white wall

When the children plan to see the next tomorrow with a smile

When the parents plan it all just as they one and the same

When the dreams dance about in their little tiny minds

When the nightmares come creeping where they may

When knights slay dragons and people demand justice

When it is swift and decisive and the right is done

When all seems fitting and

When all seems fit

When this light flickers and the shadows creep a bit

When woman demand respect

When men demand reverence

When the battle torn nation slinks off to hide and cry

when the torn apart teddy goes one more day in the drink

When the slaps and the abuse go hand in hand with the shakes

When the lights come up

When it all remains as it was

When the fantasy invades a reality

When the simplicity commits complexity

When the meak inherit and the strong suicide

When warships and little jet planes drop the atom on the world

when the shadows consume this all

When the fires burn bright

When the fire burns bright,

There is still always a light.

Towards a Journey's Ending

the little man rushed through the valley
and tried as he may he never found the end
through thickets and thorn bushes
he stumbled and he fell
he gathered back though
and he journeyed forth some more
as the winter fell
the snow was soft upon his brittle bones
as he was starved and sleek and weak
through those long and treacherous winters
the strength that remained threatened to leave him
but he saw an ending closer than he could see his beginning
so he trudged and he pushed each step out
and before long he was no closer than the last
and when the thaw came
he sighed and fell over and slowly he seemed to die
but as the sun rose he awoke in a bed,
with doctor and a nurse by his side
they asked him what he was doing there
where most men would have returned from
and all he said,
I do not know, but I had to try.

Nightmare Claustrophobia

Here is the tomorrow that they promised
blocked away by a multitude of different strokes,
Some quick and some baffling,
We think we know but we only know what we think we can,
And we waltz toward the door in systematic synchronization,
And break off the bigger bite of the dog that could not chew,
A hall for hellions who shout hellfire hellish words at the top of their demonic lungs
Pleading to be let loose in the back of the bus,
Save the children,
Break the strand and don't let the strangers see you running for the hills or you will find yourself looking out through the utmost worst possible scenario that you can not fathom without breaking apart your walls and discovering the truth that lies behind the walls, and realize that this is a lie,
God is searching the sea of sand,
Asking simple questions to the deserters in the desert deserting the desert world in favor of something that the desert deserter deems not worthy of desertings,
And we can figure this shit out,
If we we shout loud enough but thats where things get bogged down in regret and misdemeanors,
We put the mantle in the lock, and place the skin of the world on the chopping block, peeling it off as it peels and keels on over into death but back into life,
When we do not grant the world a whole lot more than we want,
Kiss the toad, and slay the frog,
Cheese and Rice surprise prepared and portioned by Jesus Christ,
The front line is frantic and feeble minds fumble the football in downtown heaven,
Just past the skyscraper citadel where the little white lies go on over the moon and man made mushrooms take a back seat to the willow whisps that light the way with fire light, burning down the forest flats just so that we can see the sunrise,
Fuck the monkeys and hte birds, and those bee's on the tale end of a new fairy tale,
This is the ends of a start to the conclusion of a beginning and the real stories fake prose will lead the way as they follow the leader to the port of origin just past the destination.