Faire des ricochets

Canal de St Martin

Prague inside Prayer

I walk with my lonesome soul
past the scream of the tormented mind
the female falling
with devil in hand
spills of  ink
the twisted self
then
smoke in the breath
stone carved street
the near smell of death
and wandering thoughts
and wandering feets
meet the cold December night
in the shadow of spires and liars
to drink pure the
excellence of  a walk through a sketch
and revel slow
 I exist

Stripes and Stripes and Stripes

heal the line
between the relations
close the distance
the line was thine
written across the back
red river between the blades
and we walk
covered
connected in vine
my line
till ripe
stripes stripes stripes

 

Locked Doors and High Towers

and stuck on the outside
 the terrible beast within
with the latch on the  inside
I wait and wonder
and chat with the passers by
as I strip my own armor
and trade my weapons of words
for silence
and sandwiches
in  the shade
of an apple tree
in view from the window

I knew I would see something amazing

If only I look right
Look long
wait
and
see
Another of LA's character gives an excellent performance at Broadway and Griffin

Empty soul, the lost forgotten house

once full of laughter
now
one more skeleton
rotten wood, crumble plaster
part of the broken and grave human disaster
and the spirit wanders
looking for its true home
beyond tipi
beyond tent
walls corruptible
indestructible
through forever-time will stand
found in its dying
a house not made of hand

Decapitated Detroit

and thoughtless moments will bring the cross when all is quiet.
don't think and die
wait
wonder
then resurection