Abandoned Your Birds

c                  f
living on words
                          c
set fire to your house
                           g
abandoned your birds
                                 c
forgot to let your dog out


f                                                         c
and it's a damned good thing to write about
all the smoke, all the flames, all the char
and it's a shame we never seem to read about
g                           f                             c
the way these damned old people really are

living on words
set fire to your house
abandoned your birds
forgot to let your dog out

and it's a damned good thing to talk about
they all seemed to get wrecked at woodstock
then blew the banks and the earth to smitherens
the way these damned old people really are

living on words
set fire to your house
abandoned your birds
forgot to let your dog out

Seven Full Minutes

wish of dreams like that
the kind that make you write
the kind that make you sweat
the kind that make you hurt

wish of quakes like that
the kind that rumble
the kind that shake
the kind that lasts for seven full minutes

wish of sounds like that
the kind that breath with you
the kind that live in you
the kind that comes from you

wish of skin like that
the kind that is smooth
the kind that is wet
the kind with nerves

wish of love like that
the kind that gives
the kind that saves
the kind that last for seven full minutes

Halter Tops

perked up by halter tops and tight jeans
the ridiculous cost of it all
holy smokes those girls are beautiful
the long considered placement of curls.

Aim

his aim was unaffected by the heavy breathing

he lay on his stomach arms propping a gun

butt imbeded in his shoulder firmly

peering through the scope a monster arises

the moment of justice and responsibility

through training he learned the best methods

squeezing the trigger with constant pressure

the scope revealed the removal of another

Mosquito Vulgarities

well, the time i went over to the bar near the strand,
the one by the halo sign, i encountered a mosquito.
standing outside, looking for drink specials.
he was a huge mother! bigger than a dragonfly!
he sat on my arm a minute, seemed like, and buzzed.
a sound i've heard before, and would after. loud it was.
louder, i mean, than normal. with a healthy looking tail,
full of blood i suspected.
thought it was too hot for mosquitos, but it had rained.
i didn't trust this mosquito and knew he, or she, would strike.

the blood suckin' led me to decide it was female.
to my misfortune, i failed to act in my defense,
probably due to misguided empathy.
after a sharp pain, the vulgarity, and a late slap,
immediately a rising, iching, wound appeared.
knowing the days of discomfort to come,
another vulgarity was released,
and then a rush to the indoors, into the bar.
the bartender provided a cube of ice,
and a drop of tequila soothed before and after the shot.

High Tides

millions, billions, and trillions of waves
raging through the ocean.

each one very distinct
each one deadly and beautiful.

he took on the ones coming towards him
punching them wildly and triumphantly.

salt water in his mouth and nostrils flared
gasping for breath before the next one arrives.

high tides.

Dogs Barked In The Distance

she felt his wisdom was manufactured
a calculated response to her misunderstandings
little did she know, he was a wanderer
walking the hills above the city in a desperate search
for he knew everything was bullshit
that it would all change and never be the same
regardless of his wishes and dreams
of a frozen world, a frozen moment
happy couples were miserable
relaxation was fleeting and forced
prayers were offered by habit
and dogs barked in the distance

Brave, Brave Sinner

brave, brave sinner
gets the fixes despite the pains
stays out late in hopes of stranger love
washes her feet in the muddy rain

brave, brave sinner
holds my heart in her trembling hands
shimmering tension of ungiven love
the cravings we both understand

brave, brave sinner
sleeping in your eyes of blue
glossy lips and walks of dignity
cold shoulder and nothing i can do

brave, brave sinner
soft music and bright, breezy scenes
you and me and no clocks around
our love together goes unseen

dd7g
cg
dd7g
cgd

Suburban Ghetto

a slow burner
white linen shirt soaked
pounding on the stage
each foot just keeping the beat
one, boom boom
one, boom boom
waltzes and 4/4 time
brown felt hat, sharp rim
yells from the cooks
to the cooks!
shoulda turned the radio to 91.7
that nashville sound sucks
a suburban ghetto
catering vans lined the back rows
breaking news and day counters
on a 96 magnavox
the music rises at 6
no breaks til after 8
welcome the friday night meat eaters
make the kiddos dance
tell stories of west texas girls
and late night lake drives
hoboken jail songs and harps
another year for lorrine
might as well keep on writin'
merle and willie
pancho and lefty
visions of johanna
paid in the stomach
tips to spend
lights to cut
a final nod

Mason Jar Company

later in the afternoon
between lulls and second winds
a toast was made
to the mason jar company
the toils and sweats
the constant orderings
regrets and sorrows offered
acknowledged forever

Before The Final Howl

in an instant
out of the bounds.
over the ridge
under the kept grass.
through a stain glass
around the other side.
after the rain comes
before the final howl.
in between, we suffer
but suffering, if endured,
produces perseverance.
then the character, then the hope.
the constant hope
as we speed through space,
sleeping and in worry,
our significance hangs,
teetering on a balance beam.
awkward and unsure, it hangs.
harlot's eyes, wanting
another day in her life.

Reformation Complainers

alterations pending,
the something from nothing
began in another universe
decided to create
experiements are critical
souls were given
and enhanced
an initial burst of love
then the fighting
arguing as profession
even the church
reformation complainers
the souls must be fed
from the earth
mothers mostly
always a woman
during the last steps

perseverance will produce
constant hope
hope for glimpses of peace
like it will be like
some days you take for yourself
because you have to
edit, seperate thoughts
to wander or release
you wonder these things
depending on the lighting
give your nose a shot
head in your hands
slumped over and pleading
smell of mexican winds
just lit morning
some peace, some peace
refine, celebrate the steps

Scared Of Gettin' Wet

been a drought on for weeks and weeks
grass is brown, lakes are dwindling
suddenly, a steady rainstorm
the rain dances worked!
dust on the wipers made mud on the front glass
in the parking lot they ran for cover
like each raindrop was a stray bullet
people scared of gettin' wet

A Gathering Of Fools

a gathering of fools
been beaten, they been used
the joker wears a rip torn frown

the king flips and flops
junior blows his top
and the smoke keeps coming around

the queen snubs her nose
goes on afternoon strolls
in her slippers and silky red gown

the battle lines drawn
all the warriors sing songs
and the smoke keeps coming around

Rodeo Night In Texas

free hats for the kids, if that traffic jam would clear up. always late out the door, even for her first rodeo. one road in. ticket window was jammed, the cashier explaining the policy on corral seating. free hats indeed, larger sizes for the bigger kids. right then and there we asked a man about our tickets. he pointed all the way down to the far end of the arena and told us where we could sit. we found a good spot eventually and settled in. me and my chicks. the atmosphere was electrified and chicken fried. smell of a rodeo.  red, soft, dirt covered the arena, seats and fences framing the dusty stage. cowboys came and did their rodeoing. bucking, roping, tieing, chasing, lassoing, limping, and hurting. cowgirls too. riding fast. 15.42 seconds took first place. that girl from oklahoma was ticked. the little bulls bucked the girl riders quick. they even got interviews and introductions. must be something--and rare--to see a cowgirl on a bull. the men got the big bulls. bones, tendons, ligaments, muscles all tested severly and misguidedly.  that dude from stephensville rode to the end, chatty and victorious. not sure of the overall winner, looked like there were several, but those cowboys and cowgirl earned thier money if they won any. and the losers don't get a dime.  we rooted for the locals.  all were athletes, especially the animals, and they let the buckers run free at the end to constant applause and spotlights.  another guy in red, white, and blue rode two horses at once. the clowns sure have changed from when i remember. the clown was a clown and that is not a compliment. the announcer was good. as they always are at the rodeo. at 10, the lights were cut and a rush to the trucks. rodeo night in texas.

Liars On A Dirt Road

walked right up to the property line
peered into the woods, over the fence line
not supposed to walk on the other side
went through and crossed over
felt heavy, like the world was watching
dead leaves breaking beneath my feet
steps were taken slowly and arms cleared the brush
shaded from the seering heat of the day, but no wind
head cloth soaked with sweat, cotten shirt drenched
looked up and saw a pond of water
surrounded by mesquite trees and hoof prints
muddy water tasted like liars on a dirt road

Freedom, The Broken Dream

freedom, holiday weekends
freedom, pantry full
freedom, late sleepin'
freedom, plush carpet

freedom, back 5 acres
freedom, hula dancers
freedom, farmer's market
freedom, matching dresses

freedom, greased up cutters
freedom, polished belt buckles
freedom, hand made gift bags
freedom, homemade ice cream

freedom, slow mondays
freedom, poetry readings
freedom, telecaster slide
freedom, free verse

freedom, hand on your heart
freedom, hopeless lover
freedom, house maid glances
freedom, silent family

Old Mandolin

thinking of rain boots in the snow
thirsty dogs around, licking up the puddles on the inside
was told the slide was off, but it sounded good to me.

brought the piano up on the final draft
that nashville song really turned into something
the hands smashed in the crash.

cutting up that bird at five a.m. had to be written down
boyish crushes and the scraps in the yard
sing this one for the cooks...to the cooks!

already praying for help, the blues again
jefferson would likely answer with a question
civil war stories, when being a winner was tough.

been everywhere in the world with a gun or a machete
pure revenge and eye for eye, the tooth takes it's flesh
a horn, like a tuba or a trombone, is missing.

nonfiction is dominate, but not absolute
slide player plays mandolin too, an old mandolin
the tag on the end, from the leprechaun's mind.

guy clark talking songs, preacherman by the end
serving strategies down the middle, painting the line
view from the moon, the helium view.

between good ole days and the end of the world
say old men who lived their lives and have regret
it's their end of the world and they were good ole days for them.

this is our time.

gdcg
cdemc
gdcg
emgriff

dcg

Rock Flowers

g                    em                g
did you see the beak on that bird?
d                         c
the once cherished fondness
     g
so distant now.

have you heard a sound so sweet?
the lone harmony of sisters
backseat bands.

what time does the fireworks start?
can they shoot 'em off right now
celebrate freedom.

when does the sun go down here?
dominicans all around
island hearts.

how could i ever know you cared?
five ten woman in heels
snaps her fingers.

where will we be ten years from now?
grey beard and beat up hands
praying for others.

fight the good fight of the faith.
first timothy six twelve
rock flowers.

'Til Lungs Go Still

i was tired. sleep never seemed as scarce, however, despite the morning confusion, i was ready to begin the day as usual, early and clean. outside, the wind had picked up and white clouds framed blue were moving quickly. it was late june, but cool and blustery. the sun had gloriously called the day. oh, to die at this moment. in an instant. painless and content. a fainting sleep. a final sleep. the trash left behind. and the beautiful things too. the method is not important, but i think too many worry about the way it will go down. eventually, the devil get's his due. i think of the eternal and constant mostly. it will be violent probably, He didn't save us from this world. until then, i'll go to war too. battle 'til lungs go still. i hope to get hit by an asteroid one day.

Beg You To Play

get a tuner
make music easy
learn 12 chords
c, g, f, e, d, em, am, d7, a7, g7, a, e7
practice strumming without a pick
practice changing finger placements
keep strumming
most importanly
by far, most importantly
keep your guitar out in the open
put it in a case only when it travels
it will beg you to play
oh, and um, get a tuner

No Suburbs

those maps,
i could look at them forever.
dots and lines,
lakes and rivers.
latitudes and longitudes,
a spider web covering the earth.
the world spins,
always facinated by the iced zones.
old maps,
naked people all around.
angles waving,
persuasive and floating
cities of the land,
islands of the oceans.
half a pinkie,
the same as a hundred miles.
australia in the south,
japan in the north.
salt lakes,
only blue on the maps.
in real life,
the red river flows red.
on a map,
there are no suburbs.

Bandana Brow

humid like airless jungles
the zzzzzz of exotic bugs
life sucking stingers
rolled up sleeves
bandana brow
snakes on the dock
hissing to themselves
a tap on my shoulder
cold mexican beer
bottled and limed
a long draw
and a cooling down my spine

ImagiNATION

imagiNATION from Jordan Amsler on Vimeo.

Brightness Of A Texico Night

listen all you brothers and sisters,
all you amigos and senoritas.

we all have times like these,
these are our times.

problem with getting what you want,
is the satisfying.

only lasts about a minute or two, don't it,
always thought we would feel better.

our sorry lot just asks for more,
begging like beggars for acceptance.

never understanding who they are,
or why they were able to live this life.

a box of bones await that man,
dust kicking up as he walks the road.

for me, i'm a grateful sort,
grateful for starlets and neon lights and
the brightness of a texico night. 

Hollowed Out And Sick

the sweats take over and your stomach turns
the heat takes the street and the fires burn
talk about the score, knock 'em on the floor
blonde hair flying and calling out for more

hollowed out and sick
hollowed out and sick
my body let me down
hollowed out and sick

i knew i hurt the woman of my dreams
when i left her stranded in the desert heat
she always knew i had one thing on my mind
my honey started praying and kept her hopes up high

hollowed out and sick
hollowed out and sick
my body let me down
hollowed out and sick

gomavs

EA
ED
EA
DAEx2

AEx3
DAEx2

Gutter World

c                                       g         c
don't waste your time wishing for peace
f                                      c
cause peace ain't gonna come
c                                       g         c
people are cranky and selfish and mean
g                        f        c
there's not a peaceful one

amber vision eyes and waves of grain
our greatness is make believe
the rotten mullahs and men of God
should be hanging from a tree

g                                           f           c
thought i'd find peace if i closed my eyes
g                                   c
and prayed to the Holy Spirit
g                                          f            c
He talked back to me and said listen son
g                                     c
death is peace so don't fear it

since that time i've lived free and clear
holding on to the truth
gotta live through this gutter world
before we can eat the fruit

nothing is really the end of the world
crashes or wars or sex
we worry and fret and loose our sleep
we become emotional wrecks

what you need is a healthy apathy
to the troubles of this life
help people along this dirty path
peace on earth is such a lie

Breathless And Beat

heartland
between the book dividers

pleasant
all the stories are told

sweating
humidity all around

blameless
cause you've confessed

anxiety
it's craters and ridges

clinging
to the promise that's a lie

embraces
giver of the mirage

believer
always looking up at the sky

lacerater
black ribbons and smoke

visionist
blamer of others

satisfied
breathless and beat

Scattered And Starved

the walkers, the deciders
the flimsy and the flooded
claiming repeatedly
always sayin'

through the tunnels and flows
near paradise and ebbs
slurring words and stumbling
always sayin'

the junkies and the beaten
the heartless, the wailers
counting days and nights and seasons
always sayin'

the screamers, the lush
the noiseless space
scattered and starved
always sayin'

Flags Unfurled

e                              
had a dream about losing a girl
             a
my girl, independent and wise

e
saw a scene where flags unfurled
               a                         
salute the folks who had to die

d
you are the princes
a
you are the queens
e
dancing in the clouds
                      a
i can hear you sing 

walked the plank of blackbeard's ship
anchored just off the shore

kissed her lips and whispered prayers
she'll get her mercy from the Lord

you are the princes
you are the queens
dancing in the clouds
i can hear you sing

days of floating 'round a dug up hole
watching tribes gather 'round the band

my girl came back and she wouldn't let go
love never goes according to plan

i can hear you sing
i can hear you sing
i can hear you sing
i can hear you sing

Looks Like T' Me

naw man, i'm gonna stay right here.
you guy's go on and have yer fun.
i'm gonna sit here and feel the sitting.
"aw man, that's jus crazy talk."
naw it ain't.
"you jus a fool ol man."
yep.
a fool to you.
if you a fool to a fool that makes you not a fool.
you'll figure it out one day boy.
"shiiit."
like i says, go on and have yer fun.
but before you scoot.
let me give you another bit of advise.
if ye ain't too dumb to listen.
now now, shut up, I'm talking.
if yer gonna be all into sin.
sin bravely will ya please.
"what's this crazy cat talkin' 'bout sinning bravely."
crazy's right.
crazy for love, crazy for peace, crazy for joy.
i almost can't take it no mo'.
your jive talkin' struttin' fool self don't have love, peace, or joy.
looks like t' me.
now run on, i'm tryin' to feel myself sit.
"aw, you jus a fool ol man."



Martin Luther in 1521...
“If you are a preacher of grace, then preach a true and not a fictitious grace; if grace is true, you must bear a true and not a fictitious sin. God does not save people who are only fictitious sinners. Be a sinner and sin boldly, but believe and rejoice in Christ even more boldly, for he is victorious over sin, death and the world. As long as we are here [in this world] we have to sin. This life is not the dwelling place of righteousness, but, as Peter says, we look for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.”

Punk Rocks

a lion in a japanese shop,
you've heard the term,
whistling so everyone hears,
big noggin and flowing hair,
always want to inflict knee damage,
a quick hit to the patella,
aim for the acl or mcl,
bring that loudmouth down,
make him shake in pain,
humbled and repentant.

cross the i's and dot the t's,
you've heard the term,
nothing left to chance,
meticulous and planned,
from where no time exists,
grave markers are frauds,
giving an end to the unending,
mark me with a memory,
and a quick song,
punk rocks.

Out Of 91 Faces

three were applying makeup,
masterfully and precise.

about eight of ten wore frowns,
like permanent mourning.

one guy looked catatonic,
literally with one eye asleep.

at least ten or twelve were laughing,
alone, but laughing, probably the radio.

most wore shades and pulled shades,
all kinds of eye protection and cool.

some looked paniced at the late hour,
those the world somehow really needs.

only two of them looked back at me,
and i nodded, the observers of faces.

thumbwork and audio communication didn't stop,
the social circle pulse continues.

don't like to idle,
like to move,
so i can get settled.

E The Moaner

blues are real stories set to music.
and if missing real stories and music,
real stories must be made to music.

first, get a guitar.
it's the easiest travel instrument,
and travel is what it'll take to get good stories.

kiss somebody goodbye, pack lightly, and start walking.
some of them stories would haunt the listener,
sending them into your blue moments.

temporary relocations are available to anywhere.
national geographic scenes, underwater, in space,
spiney deserts, erased forests, natives clad in rags.

from there, find a good chord combination and tap out a melody.
don't forget about minor chords and seven chords,
e the moaner, a the yeller, d the weeper.

sing what you wrote, aloud to brothers and sisters you've never met.
many will nod, some will hand you cash, most will ignore,
but it won't matter, cause you'll have the blues.

Spare Tires

incredible voice, a masterpiece of sound
the presence you possess, impressive

you are on your way, your destiny awaits
our arrows mean we love you, you're welcome

diversity is what seperates you, just impressive
moved, inspired, lifted, the range of emotions

the journey of the road ahead, spotlight moments
glitter and glamour, multiple personal assistants

show tunes and dances, bass players and drummers
respect is scarce, the known reality of the production

morning shows and late shows, magazine interviews
freedom of expression clouding the judgments

chase the camera, then the camera chases you
you pretend to be annoyed, but you're hooked

hits and plays and cuts and tracks and drinks
performance art and creative art confused again

Texican Meat Soup (Chili)

to make a good chili, you gotta start with the meat selection. shoulder roast is best, for sure, but more importantly the way you get it ground up is critical. ask the butcher for the chili meat cut and get about 3 pounds. it will be lean so that will make quite a bit. enough for six to eight. mainly with chili, it's about the spices you don't use. many will dazzle you with concoctions of ridiculous proportions. spices of unknown orgin. strangely, always leaving out the pepper. here's the deal, all you need is a bunch of chili power and cumin, perhaps combining whole seeds and cumin powder, in a 2/1 ratio. you then have the basis of chili. salt and pepper at the very end. i've eaten horrible chili before. chili with kahlua, chili with chocolate, white chili. i've left many full bowls of chili on the table due to taste issues. the creativity comes next. tomato sauce and diced tomatoes are a given, but here's where you should take note. rotel. yes, the mexican and queso staple. it will add the proper spice to finish off the pot of texican meat soup. a quick chopped whole onion should be cooked along with the meat intitially, fresh garlic added in the latter stages. cook it long, cook it low. honestly, it should be cooled and refridgerated overnight to really taste it's true potential and experience its perfectly tender texture. serve with corn chips, raw onions, sharp chedder, and sliced avacodos. light english beer goes good. ice water too.  beans should be eaten at a seperate meal.

Still Mother

your big beautiful eyes, still beautiful
your shining light of hope, still shining
your loving servant heart, still serving
your glorious smile, still glorious
your peaceful sleeping, still peaceful
your mother soul, still mothering
your scents of flowers, still scenting
your love of God, still absolute
your family is together, still
your family loves you, still
your family adores you, still
and always.

The Coolness Of Dawn

what he said he could never take back
the careful reluctance of his words
understanding the fate ahead
with anticipation and restlessness
a confused state of affairs to be sure
but at times completely exhilarating
this world with its distractions and taboos
tip-toeing the border of repentance and grace
oh, and it becomes more important than anything else
this wayward albatross
sleep is taken like candy beat out of a pineada
rash colors prevail and a slow-cooked peace hovers
what he wrote will be forgotten
forgotten, absolutely, by most who looked and read
but one will remember, remember a phrase, a glance
keep on the light, let the night linger, write at the coolness of dawn

Girls Gonna Get Me To The Promised Land

g
failing love, is there any other kind
c
failing love, like a nursury ryhme
g                                                   f
failing love, with your heart in your hand
            c            g                  f               c  
put that bum that you loved in the garbage can

funny love, tries hard every time
funny love, clears hearts and minds
funny love, when love is at it's most
hit the hills in the summer, in the winter hit the coast

stubborn love, heart breaks every day
stubborn love, keeps the devil away
stubborn love, watches visions come true
despite crying all night cause you got the blues

heartache love, when prayers are lifted heighest
heartache love, when you scream out for the Christ
heartache love, you'll know it's near the end
these girls gonna get me to the promised land

Slip Camping

e) grab a flashlight
f) spot the fish
g) stand watch all night
h) 'til the bugs go to sleep
i) summer night sweats
j) sticky skin
k) hooked fingertip
l) crusted blood
m) feet off the pier
n) army green water
o) orange life jackets
p) never worn
q) closed compartment
r) mosquito lands
s) slaps
t) car light motions
u) cricket sounds
v) rocky roads
w) uphill and heavy air
x) fish gut air
y) woke on a deck
z) with an unknown dog licking my face

Changer

c       g          f           c             g 
what kind of sacrifice could we give
c                               g
what do we have to offer
f    c     f      c
our world's saints
g
doomed

could hardly think of a time i've seen
a bird help another one
fretting and sweet
the lovers

ingore the binding mind capturers
iching all the right places
caverns revealed
runners

sweated then bled then He died
hung in the morning sun
hour before dusk
changer

Fires, And Storms, And Rocketships

stranded in the middle of a wildfire
flames a hunnard feet high
wish that thundercloud would roll by
tornado or not
plows in the fields left to burn
cats and dogs already ran off
ain't no one to fight it
the bright, melting, smoke maker
a disaster area, huh
hell yes
black, ash covered valleys
charred trees, still rooted
trashman came and nothing was left
a raw, but cleaner, land remained
dirt, fortified with fossils
labor awaits
winds are gushing
like herds of rocketships
the late spring storms, violent and teasing
damn fires.

Hoeing Potatoes Blues

g                                                           c
air moving quick about forty mile an hour
g                                                              c
along the fence line goes maria on the rider
f                  c                  g                      c
woke up, had breakfast, know what i gotta do
f                g                    f                       c           
so i grabbed my hoe and put on my work boots

last night i slept with a with a town on my mind
mountains all around down on the mexican line
thought we saw a vision as we drank in the saloon
left my gloves in the barn, hoeing potatoes blues

tennessee son, been playing slide and lead
the lake's gotta be connected to the creek
electric wires and soundproof rooms
already walked down here i'll dig up a few

they cut a road for this place, it's about to get paved
the leprechaun man just working at his trade
been everywhere he could go now he's through
blisters on his fingers, hoeing potatoes blues
    

Add Some Tabasco

shoulder plateau
time moves slow
a short intro
begins the show

heart in traction
love being rationed
all the while smashing
recorded in captions

midnight lovers
exchanging troubles
sly and undercover
pity the mothers

chemical imbalance
send them to france
complete their rants
continue the dance

add some tabasco
makes your back bow
heat sneaks up slow
shoulder plateau

Imagination

imagination: seed of history
imagination: lonesome irony
imagination: godess perfection
imagination: source of discontent
imagination: territorial notions
imagination: dream trash
imagination: founding fathers
imagination: art worthy
imagination: halo owner
imagination: streetlamp gazer
imagination: dark stars
imagination: reality check
imagination: eyes closed tightly
imagination: across the street blues
imagination: holy rollers
imagination: out of style
imagination: tombstone whistler
imagination: anxiety monsters
imagination: fantasy prisoner
imagination: truth through gauze
imagination: literal meanings
imagination: laughing pirate
imagination: color explosions
imagination: possible scenarios
imagination: wrecked balance
imagination: air brushed maidens
imagination: self love
imagination: self hate
imagination: independent flyers
imagination: mind tune-up
imagination: wisdom apologizer
imagination: inventions
imagination: divine taster
imagination: phantom madness
imagination: mirage maker
imagination: deep deep blue

emd

Masters Of Man

take you apart moment by moment
explore the pixeled brain
colors too numerous to name
colors without names yet
pluck out the eyes
cameras to the passing scenes
don't look at everything
at least don't look twice
those lips creating all the words
air from the lungs gentle and silent
dry lips
wet tongue

shoulders shouldering
arms arming
butts butting
knees kneeing

heart and soul polar opposites
one spastic, the other smooth
a masterpiece of technology
a mysterious and supernatural wonder
the woman certainly the superior
better hearts, better souls
the ache they produce
masters of man

Sad Souls Of Islands

that jazz bops man like a stereo spider
i'll tell you man, like a three tone jail bird
silent parts exploding the songs into liquid
then getting cold, the ice shattering teeth
rock's more primal, screaming and thirsty honey
hardly ever breaks the noise, elevation defined
withered and rough, the skin of dirty peasants
clear, squinting eyes hollowing out the blind lights
folk makes me want to walk, walk until my feet hurt man
resting by the state park signs and tuning guitars by ear
writing history on bar napkins, moist on the edges
wadded and pocketed, melody the reluctant foe
or click a clock by the dreaded and raggaed sounds
going on all night, after all day, never before noon
crying for mothers and children and the lost of this world
tragic, the daily encounter, sad souls of islands

Laughing Loudly

crackling juicemaker
cringing clouds
crumbling, clearly in desperation

thrashing heartbreaker
touching treetops
thriving, tearily and sad

lonely car racer
laughing loudly
leaping, luciously and kind

sleeping parader
struggling stories
sharing, suffocating dreams

Speaking Of Gangsters

speaking of gangsters
the sorry lot
selfishness to it's odd conslusion
intimidation and nods
trust nowhere to be found
stuffing themselves into suits
walking from right to left
leaning all the time
toothpicks
stains
hair products
vocabulary of a dozen
steam room dwellers
afraid of solitude
phony cash
trash cash
minutemen at the ready
gang up boys
the english are dumb
but they fight like desperados

Layers Of Wombs

naturalism takes over
like a momentumed slide,
gaining pace always.

perhaps an aged flesh,
weary and wise due to wounds
of days, provides a balance.

the mind is fully alive and gnawing,
it's own heartbeat, it's unvisited
cubbyholes, unfound jewels.

resisting becomes denying becomes
habit becomes freedom,
layers of wombs.