pastoral evening reds

 I felt a cool frozen morning metal that sticks to every touch

 chain link fence bold boundaries burning heat within a crutch

 holding up the balance of wounds that lean on devisive time

 new addition that slips from the hold in male oaks of reddish gold

 within this color I stared deep into a cataclismic coil of autumn light

 searching through a pack of wolves to find the yellow missing shine

 it swirled within a water drum sound like healing stones around

 a thousand perfect circles sending locust war selling fierce torment

 yet a forest such as this opens other cavelike nicer ancient doors

 some sending you above and below the thunderclasp of gain

 even songs would pile wood on a campfire meadows like loyalty

 expectations could only ruin the thought of our next opal surprise

 as it was then the many colored eyes opened a salty tear pace

 counting the years we wait for patient enduring of a distance race

 praise this trail along timpanogos dreaming streamside pools

 where the birds congregate to sing songs of old wooden spools

 turning waterfalls like the season on edges of foaming golden rules

 seven trumpets sound truth within lands of pastoral evening reds 

 overcast mountain skies held secrets of the tree born spring souls

 new holes appeared within my hiking boots for miles and such

 where I felt a cool morning metal that sticks to every touch

     

zaks vocal chance

     I went to a play shipwrecked upon the seashore

     starring seagull sounds over layers of wooden horns

     the waves crashed into piles of smooth franckincense

     incidents that would explore the sand grains like new worlds

     horn notes dizzy jazz easy to hear as if it was born in your ear

     making a pillow sad and lonely land filling joyful brave tears

     the incense altar brought thick almost lemon taste to the guest

     he appears within the outside of a burning blue sheet all blessed

     with good news muting zaks vocal chance at explaining this test

     all the world will remember the dance we numbered under light

     bending colors few can decide to reside choice wrong to right

     days would grab patience and deny through agents of design

     songs kept playing through the reason before the gray choice 

     echos lean from the canyon walls like foam shapes in the surf

     moving inland into work that pales within daily ghost stones

     somehow a wing moved with my eye at every turning tone 

     the theme seemed dreaming into a plot thickened door

     I went to a play shipwrecked upon the seashore

     

       

    

admire from afar

             colorado memories piled high into a trunk

             neath the tire torn tuna boat drunk on potholes

             all the experience is remembered in it's smell

             a musty farm road speech of tube tied hooks

             fishing with the old folks near rainy meadows

             long twelve hour drives into denver shadows

             places that seemed the other side of reality

             urban swamps of purina company ferris wheels

             tornadoe swirling basement brawls with brothers

             I held my own and droped the rest for the cats

             cool early morning porchside breakfast winds

             honey and oats or postem on toast odd flavor

             strange as it was we enjoyed the foggy days

             long and secretive they seemed to keepsake

             cadillac attacks of the heartstring edging back

             so now we can all retire or admire from afar

             this cropulent wide fireside shooting star

                          

her irish green eye stare

      some kinds of light never show their beautiful face

      but wait for the exact moment to strike in place

      to destroy the portion of our dependant materialism

      in a splash of freezing cold high sierra waterfall mist

      new light that just kissed through the reflective rainbow

      wood smiles on my brow a blessing in disquised surprise

      roomy streams seem to bring new thoughts or better dreams

      blueish light that shines without a codependant green team

      we gathered hear to remain a part of our life forever saved

      looking through the waters mirror distorted reflection lost fear

      we ate a break of candy for the extra rush pushing us on

      it would eventually take us beyond the peak into the moon

      that night we camped soon in fields beside the headwater spring

      a small mountain lake that served as the stars excited bedding

      twas' there I held her irish green eye stare within the night sky

      to fold the weary storm of muscle aches and bones that cry

      we awoke that night in union like sacred sage in a vase

      some kinds of light never show their beautiful face 

a distant hum

step into new drums

  remind us of the season

    with a heartbeat reason rain

       take strange for bone stones

         use the sample into a forest

           this dream becomes a shard

             cut loose from ancient work

               take a closer look at the book

                 along the trail we follow laughter

                   old topographic maps stained in blood

                     like tree line rings we remember years

                      left to break through the barbwire

                        right we sail through fire fears

                         north to south ancestors hover

                          dry to wet under tents of lovers

                            the night stars brought in the light

                              so we sang the memory green

                               leaves that fall and stay till spring

                                 I held the pile to smell up close

                                   to wake my mind of empty ghosts

                                     reassure I'm here and now

                                       in the woods where the plow

                                         pulls & moves a distant hum

                                          stepping into new drums 

                                                            

 

sleep sirene

           four lakes basin gray skies brought strange new eyes

           ten thousand full and filling the blue reflection

           grayling fins would dash the chosen pools

           flayling around the dice damper coals of rule

           running sections of crags along granite outcrops

           echos in the still shocked distant deer resolution

           brooms that could steer wheels of fire union rest

           the amazing depth of wilderness still remains clean

           most of our footsteps were like ghost moss dreams

           time stands in wait for our returning list of sleep sirene 

           deep resounding steep I fled a crumbling word that dies

           four lakes basin gray skies brought strange new eyes

barfoot bones

     a silent sleeping hand pillowed the right side stone

     holding the grip of parrallels between an inside out world

     where paths of victory walk within the footstep treads

     holding every imprint as it balanced the brave golden bread

     before the last covenant became obsolete testament walks

     the dreaming stone artist turned mason dry mortar lucid

     waving tools to the rules and expectations of corporeal captains

     leaning within the tree shade rest to eventual laying in the nest

     careening off the road for a chance to play his mandolin at best

     or to break pencil shard poems like a blue ribbon fly line snap

     where a faithful test is painful to reach without a few questions

     a foundation of stone faced into the replaced spoken toungue 

     I couldn't help but cry into the mud as it hardened equally tight

     the salt fabric sigh kept a roadtrip from losing the line in sight

     so my guest would keep her song deep within barefoot bones

     a silent sleeping hand pillowed the right side stones

  

poor williams song

             I heard the lonesome sound of poor wills nightime blues

             he captured the ground as it moves in canyon quakes

             true to the depth of pthalo dark canyon echo aches

             like spirits of cool night batons led from star chord charts

             giving expanse a new texture far from understanding

             making the most of a chance for another hidden mate

             within the resting pine needle rich like soft feather beds

             it sounded like mystery growing into woven wool shape

             all wraped around my brain as I slept in still meditation

             the color was on the move chasing the new light shade

             closer and closer the dream became particled into water

             a trickle turned stones over rain soaked river foams

             so I awoke in the dream to break the layer in this river

             beholding the mighty giver of every rooted caring soul

             it was there he delivered the song to my open heart

             strange in the water yet stepping dry until far apart

             poor william had nothing more to give but the dawn

             he welcomed it into the morning star horizon walking shoes

             I heard the lonesome sound of poor wills night time blues 

the house of god

    the second I set light feet within this sacred mountain seat

    I feel the provo scam pass away into the wind like death

    something that reaches deap into my heart pumping breath

    sparrows and orange city robins fly in as the sun goes down

    magpies that congregate at the top to dream of a better sound

    eagles and oriole thoughts all blue around daunting cliffside seas

    closer than one could capture eternity without a parking fee

    I take a mountain exploratory trail in songs with barking dogs

    pulling me higher into the clean and pure mountain air trees

    all of the beauty surrounds my every thought process

    I shape it into a chance for holy praise like falling stones

    so many times this place has had the power to erase sadness

    mixing words into rhyme for the stars late at night in bed

    squirrels stealing bagels droping them on my morning head

    purple bands of brothers singing for some marching room

    light enters into the heart where the second fountain starts

    we drink the pure crystal water source waking brain stem darts

    golden laughter & silver joy foundations in ancient stone art

    for the oaks and maple cottonwood and pine to aspens complete

    the second I set light feet within this sacred mountain seat

               

             

rainbow of the sun

                         the wind whistled within the leaves

                         through the thistles purple pollen sea

                         I turned my eyes and blinked like wings

                         they buzzed like bumble bees in rings

                         the sacred hummingbird healing doctors

                         turning quick to dance like helicopters

                         yet quiet racing competition keeps cool

                         like the sunrays of dawn busy not to yawn

                         I held the fragile green throated bird

                         encouraging his flight hoping light learns

                         he placed his nest above my campfire stones

                         returning every evening to share songs

                         this dart like rainbow of the sun

                         hovering all around my joyful smile

                         I wish he'd stay with me forever

                    

                         

  

caked oven sun sculptures

          the sun hit minutes perfect through the sage 

          red and yellow survivors of harsh piercing light

          if I could only survive like they do in the sun

          all my freckles would turn into a patch of paint

          turtles and roadrunners would sleep under my roots

          boots and saddles could pass by my dreaming webs

          iguanas smoking marijuana possibly in this sense

          a seedless burrow like edward r. murrows tense bend

          undualating atom bomb dust before the nightime ends

          st. george himself would leak new secrets to my pollen

          as it sleeps within the morning of all perfect glory drops

          then dries out before the scrub jay cackles about crops

          I love this sandstone shrubless day of heated erasers

          but my sunburn headstone death is well done skin

          cooked like bacon left on caked oven sun sculptures

          the thought of this yellow burning bush just tells less

          evening the score between sacred ground and moses

          as he thrust down the stone tablets in disgusted vessel

          the golden calf like maps on googles satelite tracks

          missed in the star mark before it could jump start back

          unemployment mixed in medium wasted blue wage

          the sun hit minutes perfect through the sage

 

the number was numb

             we hung our tentpoles from a moss mountain song

             sleeping under the bandit bottles over mixed reunion

             where cascades of night dry ducks waddled by blodder

             their sound was distorted through clean turqouise water

             we looked up and saw the harps of white shore sands

             unchartered lands nimble from the eye of a needle clear

             music that reached us like experience in a nest of silk

             it blends within the easy stone bed of honey pouring milk

             stuck upon my finger phones all abrubtly soaring shut

             you came to me at the perfect chance of grape night

             deap and mysterious fabric static under gorgeous 

             the word that forms before the thought is caught

             beauty like a thief stole my heart for the display case

             still pumping out what was left of the time we shared

             who really cares to such matters of this brown eyed bear

             he just reaches out to charm what he can easily dare

             in the majestic wolf group he stood before death

             I watched close and counted his very last breath

             the number was numb and frozen before birth

             so we died as he would have liked in timely spring

             the stars that night placed our dream where it belongs

             so we hung our tentpoles from a moss mountain song

shores of clay

               dry desert human highway roadsigns would melt

               from the sun on the thumb of a hitch hiking soul

               it's neil percival young with a guitar tumbleweed

               heading for the spacecraft rough drafting blue ocean

               on the beach within reach he strums his holy tune

               when a light from space would erase something new

               they arrive with a note from the creator of reason

               kant said he couldn't make it and shant assure why

               just listen to the waves all coming crashin bye

               levitation forms in the old black electric scream

               he played with incredible fact piercing greens

               resting on a bent boat of notes never heard

               where hank williams adams apple shouts out fever pitches

               in the bottom of the ninth with runners in burning ditches

               he blasted a homerun expression that dreamed away

               dreamin of a new tour on bold foreign shores of clay

               confused by instruction with cool captions of eruption

               neil turned one more grey hair blacker than blue

               the drastic measurment could have ended all ships

               sinking to the heavens in opposition befriending grip

               but he broke from the crowd and soon slipped away

               in tattered jeans waving red flannel shirt & belt

               dry desert human highway roadsigns would melt

charcoal magnetic language

             I'll remember you when it all comes crashin down

             all the camping voyages renewing hot coal sounds

             when the last of the bread crumbles into crooked crumbs

             where a bag of microscopic delerium sings like the sun

             or a bandit borrows a stack of records never to return

             I'll look back and laugh as it all unfolds into wrinkled yarn

             like the time in telluride we danced in rain soaked puddles

             reminders of a sketched out charcoal magnetic language

             turning the library fines into abstract reaction faces

             over the bridge and under the trout corner hide away

             where the blue of the night meets the gold of the day

             someone is waiting there for the share we can't compare

            and the green in her eyes is like prophetic sons of thunder

            dripping rain into the pile of songs in a vault of numbers

            leaking strange new pain with different joyful blues

            words like these can't even begin to expound it all

            a purgation of emotions we hear within his imperfect lob

            we witness impressed heartstrings from a man named bob 

fungus forming dyes

          being held in a color prism I poked my head out

          from red orange to green soaked bread blue

          the objects would surrender into new shape

          becoming the answer to a problematic paste

          stuck like my luck would have it decay & waste

          I reached with all my existing light lunar pull

          feeling offensive splinter japanese garden winters

          mossy gown maple tree trunk shade turning around

          where gentle songbirds deblinked the sad fevers

          filling up from the stream of beaver bad choice 

          slapping his tail for a show under glad life joys

          I painted with a brush thought of purple blue skies

          containing a mushroom among fungus forming dyes

          a flute sang the will of a new testament torn dream

          played from the darting shadow of prospective eyes

          more and more of the world moved within the base

          textures and writing seemed fueled by the vehicle

          instead of drivin or set up for the flight frequent mile

          a brand new reason was taking the song for a dance

          tile scraped at the wrist of her unspoken evening land

          she smiled in content distance holding my wrinkled hand

          sending charges of illusive electrodes bending vowels

          even from a rubbernecked ring coloring a brown owl

          time burned papers that cross east western south

          being held in a color prism I poked my head out 

a cracked wooden horn

                        I looked well within the petal of a lotus

                        and noticed the faces of many folks

                        jokes and laughter mixed in shouts

                        sadness even groups of doubts

                        joy and pensive eyes like wine

                        relaxed and smoked upon a vine

                       eclectic mixtures of strange abstract

                       opinion lectures and change contract

                       where fine line tightropes walk the plank

                       ranks of soldiers with bombing tanks

                       captains generals priests and poets

                       golden crowns upon the frog of voters

                       opera singers island thinkers alike

                       light that shines time out of minds

                       songs from a cracked wooden horn

                       acacia golden arks of details silver worn

                       resting gnomes residing drunken verse

                       shores that dream for evaporation worse

                       teams in green battled boats on the run

                       shooting purple magnet crumbs in modus

                       I looked well within the petal of a lotus

a white golden dream ghost

           I walked within the brim of a rain soaked dream

           where leaves would change and range in between

           like drains dripping fog feeling clear of the coins

           rolling along this temporary rubber tire torn

           it bounced through the softest pine needle path

           simple and sounding quiet as gray still breath

           that was held at the anticipation of a deer nearbye

           I approached the door of what could easily be heaven

           met by a lion in question of a sword expectation

           he opened his jaw for me to walk into flesh fear

           as it closed I felt awestruck by a red rose hip luck

           when a forest edge view explained of something new

           falling cascades of rain clogging logs at the crest

           so amazed and excited I fogged up my chest

           with the last of a white golden dream ghost breath 

           I leaned my head out to jump into the sacred pool

           when a hand on my shoulder warned cruel of the green

           as I walked within the brim of a rain soaked dream

neon moons

                 visions of a power source in white robes

                 like missions along the sea board shores

                 stand out in my view turning ermine skins

                 wraped careful around a branch of sacred reunion

                 songs in grace brace for the new light dreams

                 coming on the gallop of apaloosa spot teams

                 dust swirled around into a voice taking shape

                 it went higher and higher as the colors escaped

                 the smoke from a fire joined in it's other place

                 eagle shade made an impression on my eye

                 the smoke met the shade and joined into the dust

                 still flowing higher in other forms of other beings

                 greens and purples turning through a magic scene

                 they pulled at my stomach like the moon on the earth

                 sailing from the work starving stones left behind

                 I wailed into the song something racing forward

                 using soil under barefeet as a coil connection

                 when a bear dream danced through me

                 he breathed loud and clear blue neon moons

                 as the sun joined the early morning star

                 I awoke with them holding my heart

       

                            

opportunity tips

               lupine tower shade supplied the expanse

               cool evening songbirds move like new hot pants

               wranglers branded by a distant 70's commercial

               tough and rugged drum soaked barrels of lasting fun

               samples enter exits into left over tinfoil trout well done

               I hear the cowboy voice of sam elliot echo in caves

               speaking of barley malt carts carried away in spades

               some strange connection he mentions that is made

               or my confused position on his toothpick crooning face

               whatever the case it can't be replaced by an old sass

               chasing winter comes thinking through the mountain pass

               riding a mixed mule packed for a fact filled excursion 

               well into the chasm of uranium discount communities

               loose fit saddle soar morning chore opportunity tips

               sinister paddles regained control of this rafting trip

               pabst or other hit and miss heavenly chance

               lupine tower shade supplied the expanse

dryness rains

                                   clouds electrolyte

                                smalltown stereotype

                                  spitting rose lit fire

                                all along a cliffside wind

                                                        dry begins

                                       leaflike and drifting

                                    sifting through the comb

                                    neon fractures wire a dead fuse 

                                     burning coils of anti matter

                                     who to spark who to choose

                                  blue meets the room of mirrors

                                        nearer to the source

                                              but of course of course

                                                   rules reuse a timescape

                                                        faster than we can exist

                                                        it just missed my line

                                                         as the train rewinds

                                                               dryness rains

                                                         while confusion stains

                          

 

           

 

my guest guitar

      pastoral time eases into my breathing mind

      warming the edge of reaction from lime sour doubt

      squeezed from the city of trouble looking into out

      I just pack the last of a cracker crumb and rattle on

      hummin a tune that breaks into steel guitar moons

      won't you come and meet me there under the red sky

      we''ll drag through a plow and trade harvest season cows

      all for a chance to be free from the tangled distraction

      fall waves of cooling heat rollercoasting into winter action

      my guest guitar would bless the evening coals in light

      where shooting star freightline cars hold me in close

      we fly past a field of bread where the buffalo once roamed

      think of who could have held the simple stone before

      was the cost a reminding boss of late fees unkind

      pastoral time eases into my breathing mind 

crumbled in the round

        empty pockets and a train leaving town

        brown colored weight rusty red under crowns

        I dreamed of a roundup along the pastoral fields

        edges where the winter bites like barbwire 

        despair has my ticket to nowhere looking up

        a hunger in my belly fires working it's way into pace

        used all at one chance to play the hobos painful refrain

        with a burning sip of something cheap like grain

        the conductor he's weary stuck out on the line

        pushing for a reason even he cannot define

        keaping the freight train state by state plain

        the smell of coal and cow dung ringing bells

        I mass for holes in my pants and swelling hands

        impossible cold that feeds winter works silver death

        gray old ribbons of gimping open stain catch a breath

        it all keeps the midnight free to roam the search for sun

        sure to pass by the one place anyone calls home

        I check for a poem all crumbled in the round

        just empty pockets and a train leaving town

ash cake mistakes

         I lit out from Magna trailed by salty dust

         eyes would turn and shutter that I used to trust

         like bending rusty butter on cold toasted crust

         promises in the dark dissolved through light of day

         easy answer dancers trained a bridge to hold or fall apart

         the sea underneath was steaming inside an icey heart

         strange coffin cart cries delivered dry baked goods

         smokestack lightning dreams would turn even stella blue

         along abstract  lazy river roads parrallel a black muddy river

         the maker moved the giver into the room for two soldiers

         old neon stopsign fly kitchen mountains of the moon dog

         folding the cardgame at the old diner reminders of a china cat

         sunflower umbrellas yodled like egg yoke soda paste lysergic

         impressive dress turned the ugly words into a tye dye mess

         while the ticket stub rubbed around in my fry toy pocket no less

         opera goat holes sang folk songs along the campfire higher

         morning sunlight shined into my mind like scrubbing cleanser 

         so I cooked ash cake mistakes for the bidding of goodnight

         as the dreadful wind and the rain came pouring into my tent