now

i exist in the margins

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a word where there is no word

my human surface is so thin i feel angel and beast deep within

i feel god and devil duking it out with each colossal clout

i tell ya honey they aint fucking about

i see good and bad yet i’m not even handed

i rush in an angel with no brains

i pick up my paintbrush and apply the lacquer to a world

worlds of songs collide within the chasm of my second

a violin dreams its themes of loss in my seemingly endless crane-eon

i am the weirdest cat yet straight as a dice or snakes eyes twice

i am a search for my inklings all escaped from my old head

art is my little black cat asleep on a mat

but inside he dreams of a picasso mouse with gaughin tongue

he thinks to me : i,  your familiar spirit ..what shall i do?

i must be madder still the day replies in blue cerulean blue

the day will say something like goodbye in its way

in its way are the dead who will not flinch or pray

in its way are the peace freak soldiering on

i am the vessel of emptiness and satisfaction

i reflect echoes of everything we ever said

i am adam in the sea of rivers who can see eve

i am understanding yet you stand over me

i have given you nothing …nothing you didnt need

i am not unique each time i peek theres another me

each time i peak i pick up my pastel and seek art

look i make it look easy

white for winter and old mans beard

green for jealousy and pacific ocean

yellow for gold for saint stevens halo and aurora home low

scarlet for fever and daughter and sunset on water

black because everything comes out of the dark

grey for matter and mind over matter

blue for my eyes my skies

and the day everybody dies