Ideomotor

We are but prisioners of waterfalls

We stand on broken ribs

Faces to the glass, we drown

Heavy mileage on our minds

We wrap the earth in cerebral folds

And the corpse we carry really is a weight we'd like to throw

We love the strange

New animals

We love the fearful plants

But we all surrender

Turpentine to ride us of our pasts.

You would walk the rotten hillside

You would taste the clouds bellow

But the way you walk

Is running water through

Valleys in palms of hands

We all know we will be

Respect by greed and death and loathed by clarity

Jettisoned

Emotions flood the banks

The valleys overflow

If only

Memory served us better

We cold swin to dry our souls

We're suicidal swans

We're silence in throats we creep

You'll know us by the shaking ground

When ideas emerge from the deep

Dolphins have more dignity

A sleepwalking helicopter

Gracefully deceased

Beauty makes the blind weep

To describe a song in color is a portrait's symphony

The light drips on closed eyelids

Through holes in weathered sheets

Curiosity stands up where strange faces hide and seek

Swarming the webs of electricity that dragnet the city

Confusing power with duty in a place with trees like origami

Monstrous theories dance with nightmares on the horizon

Absolute equinox

Listening to history in the present

Planets approach with lupine walks

We're suicidal swans

We're silence, in throats we creep

You'll know us by the shaking ground

When ideas emerge from the deep

Offering flowers to the dirt

like paralyzed dancers we decline and smile and flee

But, with years of past devotion

The crushing atmosphere is bitter-sweet

In my waterfall, here

In earth, I'll slowly disappear