Looks of new

What way should I look at you

You've seen me now

Your looking tends my form

A little closer

And we close the captions

Into words

But I still cannot know you

You in your grace of time

Grace of place

Place me outer bounding 

Each step I face

So

Which way should I look at you

Because Where old habits die

In the closet of needles nails and points

Driven out from driving

These resorts are left to me

These are resorts

And see me this

I'd love to drill a spike

Brushing brilliant bites

Of smooth through the bark of your hair

And there where my tap could tip

The spirits straight from the top

I'd surge away the pensives

And then how may I look you then

For I won't let a look offend

But even filling with your juices

I will not let you be my end

One whole sky

It looks like I've forgotten.

Only a single point of pinning

Pressing skin beyond thickening

Veil no more vessels sail

Like a single star to guide me

To or from there is no more

The star is sky 

And still a pin

Pricked upon a cup of gold

That I keep sipping

Through my bowels

Out my gunnels

Into a plaster-placid place

Left to lace a placid face

And redesign the world around me

It looks like i've forgotten gold.

And must learn to below me

Universe in a moment

Hold on

As i flip through pages of a history book

Hold on

As I counter my fears

Opening another

Yet merely read the same

21 centuries

Many yet made

Many yet hiding 

Many yet known as been

More even known but left for dead

As some hussies dream

Or an empire of a rat

Hold on!

I could have sworn I read it somewhere

I swear they're out there

Somewhere

Can't you hear the history pages

Writhe and wriggle with spaces

Like openings unto 

A dungeon dimension

Where all good memory

Whether scarce of parchment

Or scarce of belief 

Fails to find reverie

I tell me

Take it quiet 

Take it slow

But don't deliberate, you fool!

Incorporate

And fascinate

Like 

the depth

Of the common 

swimming pool

There are people listening after all

It's your head they want

It's your eyes they want

Did you think all of experience

Summed itself by the time you took

To write it?

When you missed the beat

Could you remember ever

Time taking time to coddle?

No?

No.

Good.

It's clear then

It's your job instead

To take it quiet

Take it slow

Blade basking

Metadive

Narrowdive

Pixiedive

Metaldive

Throwing

Blade basking

Forward know

Flow flashing

Hone nil

Throwing

It's a cutting thing

I could care less if you understood

Which means I care a lot

Tricks

Tell me try

By tritonic executions

To trip the traps

Till circumlocutions

Cur the turbid trill 

Of me.

To flee

Tricks

Tell me try

By tritonic executions

To trip the traps

Till circumlocutions

Cur the turbid trill 

Of me.

To flee

Teacups

Three cups

Tea cups

Colossal calls of candid

Consciousness

Bright 

Bright breaking shafts

Of golden light

Three wavered 

Well mannered

But

Unhampered 

Hallmarks to the dirigible

Sense of burden

All marked

Over each of us:

The beat

Clipping leaves

From our suddenly-simple

Trees

Clear

And though clearing still

They're nevernear

Three glows

Tea knows

Cups of sunstone standing

A Calling of wisdom herself

Sun tea

Can you be 

Still 

For the moment 

I make this real

And steep a deep

Breath 

Till complete

Like a summer soaked

Symphony

Splashing light and airy

Wafting 

Illuminating 

A cup of golden tea

Vivantic and still

Pretending to be asleep

The full stop

She crashed the plane today

Sent the boiling wreckage 

To embrace the earth in fold

And let the pressured metals wild

For future settlers to admire

As if nothing else existed 

She crashed the plane today

After a handcheckBagcheck 

Emergencywaterlandingcheck

Let the dull blade of fear slap avross her jaw

Without the decency of cutting out

The heart that everyone hears now

Ticking as if a part of the works

She crashed the plane today

As strokes of her sweat beat 

Into brazen rhythms 

The curse chants of the ancient people

That we forget are locked away inside of us

She, the foreman 

Helms the deck of weary passengers

Bringing up the savage spirit

But in a song of tonal inverse

Captain piloting by its words

That lull by the brainwave 

That pulled wise to the cave

That throw humen to raze

As if it was to raise

Culture cravings

Let's divine. Culture

All you need is belief 

That a sheaf

Of fleet-sweets

Wreathed In the fire of a collapsing soul

Can breathe easy

 leaping Steeps

Reaping feats of expression 

That could shatter the old

And there you have it.

You've divined some Culture 

It's good an bold

But you just need

These trigger happy

Sappy- sick tigers

To quit the addict writ 

Of the second rate interweb wit

Rolling through selfdom

And purpose from

A "God knows who!"

a "who knows where!"

And "Where are you,  god!"

And deal with it.

So our friends 

The denizens of closed world postures

Caving to craving screens

Can scream the velocity

Of the powers unseen

And zen the when and how

Of to offend

Breaking chemistry into our woes

Ruining the vultures on belief

Let's divine. Culture

At the very least 

Culture cravings

Let's divine. Culture

All you need is belief 

That a sheaf

Of fleet-sweets

Wreathed In the fire of a collapsing soul

Can breathe easy

 leaping Steeps

Reaping feats of expression 

That could shatter past the old

And there you have it.

You've divined some Culture 

It's good an bold

But you just need

These trigger happy

Sappy- sick tigers

To quit the addict writ 

Of the second rate wildfire

interweb wit

And deal with it

Rolling through selfdom

And purpose so seldom

from A "God knows who!"

a "who knows where!"

To a"Where are you,  god!"

And deal with it.

So that our friends 

The denizens of closed world posturings

Caving to craving screens

Can scream the velocity

Of the powers unseen

And zen the when and how

Exactly to offend

Breaking chemistry into our woes

And veins splitting open rain pain

Dissolving vultures of disbelief

Let us culture some divine

At the very least 

Five pebbles of the Roman God

First point of context: I am of roman descent, I believe. From the romans that lost themselves in england as the empire fell apart. I know tht my history has been since then exceptionally american. We were trappers, gold miners, and explorers. Every man in our close history has either gone adventuring, or lived a life that precipitated adventure. I believe very fully that the spirit of the setting sun and adventure nestles in my bones, whether or not it does. 

Second point of context: I love the story of david and goliath.  I remember a picture from my childhood storybook bible, and I will never release myself from this myth. David is charged, as a boy(as a roman boy, by the looks of my little book) to find five smooth stones by the riverside and to go and face goliath. He slays the giant with only one. 

Pebbles of the Roman God

I have 

Five pebbles

Just like 

Five seeds

All my own

The stones

Remind me of home

Migrant of rome

To challenge he

Who makes the land rumble

I have

A small man

Just like

A best friend

That I will never understand

Childlike,

He sows 

And he knows

That truth and justice betters all blows

He's the undistinguished  unmasked maker

Here to represent the savior

Passionate through the lord's own heart

That you've been looking at

Through a strange sepia strength

That you've developed at length

To milk the justice from his claws

To scream out beauty from his paws

But which never seems to give

It takes

Because you just can't create god for god's sake!

So now I have

Five reeds

Grown from

Five seeds

That seem to wander from my needs

Like the roman sentries 

That scoured the mist

Of a land lost in the ocean

Of chalk and moorish cliffs

Where is your empire now?

My friends,

Who is your savior now?

Because I don't know 

I never will

So while we're here

While we're left in our wasteland

And break the virgin snow

why not let these pebbles grow