these lakes and rivers that pass by my window
traveling this country in search of a calendar day
a day i have dreamed of since childhood
perhaps i still am
a child in the body of a now 30 year old man.
in time i will harvest these dreams
i will be heard from
and those who knew me
will not recognize my face
or this body
so strange
reborn entirely
my hair silver strands
falling over a face
who has given up the ghost of romance for the ever present now
but alas
I still AM a voice in the wilderness
the battle cries of rebellion
against ones own culture
to bite on the teat that nourishes the babe with poison
to spit out the doctors medicine
and dance in blissful rebellion
shaking my head from side to side
so violently
from left to right silently
mouthing the refusal to cog into machinery
oh no
not this one
not this birth
but another
tormented by the other side of light
because it is my place to do so
it is my part to play in the ever present drama
unfolding as dense karma
or sacred profound illusion
entitled dharma
the selfless lover
the formless starter
the abyss
the void
our father

and the mountains shall be my brother
and the seashore shall be my bride and the hands of strangers shall be payment and this culture shall be our demise
as the blood of the eagle poisons the lambs
and we fall silent in the graveyards of kitchens and dens
crying ourselves to sleep

but not i said the tide
I with eyes to sea
scream into microphone
scream for all I'm worth
for everything I've ever dreamed of
for everything I may never become
not this time
not this one

this is not poetry
it simply is
at ten to 3 on a tuesday
it is not art
it is only a moment i am real
only a moment i'm not sure that i feel

this is not poetry
but you may or may not choose to believe me
that this is not poetry.

i dont write much anymore
because poems never got me where i wanted to BE
i am reincarnate Rimbaud
you may or may not choose to believe me
the only difference being
i have not yet lost my leg
i have
choose to remain anonymous

this is not poetry
i am always alone
even among the one or two friends i have not lost

i will one day sail away
and you will dig up my poems and read them for the first time
and then you will certainly see
this is not poetry
and it never really was.
i am just walking under the moon
breathing heavy
trying to recall
France in the autumn.

ALL is.

every soul in its proper place
every stone is knowing space
every son and every daughter
a part to play
in cosmic order
the dark
the light
and every shade in between

all growing somewhere
that can't be seen.

ALL is
and always shall BE
without end
eternally.

back in the big city...and its good to be home...
it was time to return and dig up old bones
retire the clouds and retire the groans of a burden full-grown...

so i dig in the earth and clean all this mold and dust and re-arrange the sofa's andi re-arrange all those old ghosts and misconceptions of a mind accustomed to living without restraint...

i hit the bullseye effortlessly and discard the patterns of uncertainty...rip up the weeds and tidy the dreams i've always had, always known like a comforting loan from the heavens above and the heavens below and all the places i come forth from...and low and behold!
beneath the twenty pounds i've gained i recognize that same old frame that same old style that same old smile of determination...and an acceptance of these changes in my heart and soul.

and what this means....

it means everyday is another voyage on an ocean of mind!
and that mind is a perilous quest for advancing of faith in one-SELF and the advancing of a path cut through treacherous misconceptions, deceptions and temptations of the third density.
a quest i was born to undergo
and the cargo...the freight, the shipment, the burden.....is a blessing!
is a message sent forth from the ethers through a silver chord of divinity and I AM never alone with this catharsis...but a cathedral made manifest!

i banish all negativity and sit alone with breathtaking heart brake
knowing that sensation is a gift of experience and experience is the only WAY through this existence.

i wouldn't have it any other way.

Fiduciary- adj: held or holding in trust


The i inside my eye has been without
And the o inside this oh has been within
My heart
Oh my heart!
I have guarded from the start.
I have cherished without part
I have parted only hypocrisy and doubt
Until these days of fermentation I grout.

This votive
I do impress upon my skin
I do pray and go within
Within my mind and down this spine
I travel south for concubine

I must confess for I am weak
Moribund so still I speak
Speaking plainly
Seeking rain
Going back
I will refrain

But refraction
Oh refraction I claim!
How it burns from vein to vain
How I crumble on my knees
Serpentine the young man bleeds

Bleeding forth oh providence
From province to metropolis
I do not beg
I only prey
For guidance along the way

Oh holy night inside of me!
11 years gone hastily
But still this born intensity
I long for such divinity!

Oh holy night inside of me!
11 years gone hastily
But still this born intensity
I beg for some longevity!

Oh holy night inside of me!
11 years gone hastily
But still this born intensity
Existing STILL inside of me!

Oh holy ghost inside of me
11 years gone hastily
11 years gone hastily
11 years gone hastily….

i SEA many things
i SEA the secret
know the truth
that is beyond words
and that is my prison
this body
this mind

this love
this heart
this prism
threefold eleven
and eightfold forever

multiply that by a brother and sister
married
and living together
the ocean state
the pilgrim
the beach bum
rotting corpse of heroism
i do this for the sun and spiral
i AM the dawning
the forthcoming

dying
failing
drowning

a word worth counting

a pupil
so daunting
all of history a fable not worth remembering
if every single time
every single life
i lost her
arms flailing

my father is a name
worth sowing
worth counting and watching
waiting for something

a way out

back home
freedom
sea foam

I shepherd of the verse
Weathering storms
I cant rehearse.
Determined
Praying
Long enough to see this through
Whoever you are
I am you

Sent home to unfold
Sent home to deliver

Bent on serenity
Serpentine life
a constant river

lost amongst the chemicals in my brain
i remember the face
but i just cant seem
to place the name

when love dies
i will bury her bones by my bedside
nothing can prepare me
nothing can save us

oh great redeemer of the sky
why oh why
does karma cry?

whatever the reason

i love you so

whatever the reason

i wont let go.

Its been a while since I was honest with anyone
Especially myself

I'd be lying if I said poetry feels natural
I'd be lying if I said I was perfectly fine with the way I pass the days time
I'd be lying if I sat down and smiled contently
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't absent mindedly living day after day without coughing
Without sometimes slobbering all over myself
Without wiping snot off my nose and without shivering in the dark damp cold
Only to awake the next morning and find the sun is shining and the birds are singing
But I'd be lying if I said I found any of it
awe-inspiring.

I'd be lying if I said anything at all without first mentioning
I've been dead in my head for three months now
I've been sleep walking in a city I don't recognize
Exhaling and hypnotized

I'd be lying if I told the truth
I'd by lying if I whispered the name I once dared to call myself
I trouble myself with things I thought slain long before
I'd be lying if I deserved to call myself anything but the restlessness of this struggle

A struggle brought upon myself
Suffering silently in the midst of this recurring nightmare


I'd by lying if I said I never confused myself for a mystic or saint or angelic shepherd.
I'd be lying if I called myself anything but ungrateful
Anything but frankpaul

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slowly coming to terms with it
With who I am and how I bend
How I make mistakes and most days fail to comprehend
The significance
To be alive and witness

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't coming to terms with looking in the mirror
With having a head as clear as a river
Then again rivers are polluted nowadays
Aren't they?
And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't polluted right along side the Susquehanna
Sitting on a bench smoking marijuana

So I guess I'm a liar
I guess I'm the foolish kid on the verge of thirty
Spending his money on renouncing the HOLY!

So if you're out there somewhere nodding your head
Amazed at the comfort of stoned out sleeping instead
Instead of breathing in harmony and the wind blown kiss
Instead of searching for answers
Searching for bliss
If you're out there getting high pretending you're alive
Pretending the sun feels warm on your shoulders as you drive
Be honest with the silence
Sit still and try this
Turn off the ignition
Unload the constant mental ammunition
At least long enough to remember
You don't need this
This distraction you've been tricked into owning

I'd be lying if I told you this is okay with me.

I'd be lying if said I give up

Because I'll never give up
Not now
Not ever

sometimes it gets that i cant breathe
this is hell
i'm diseased

"An artist earns the right to call himself a creator only when he admits to himself that he is but an instrument. "author, creator, Poet! That man has not yet existed."
Thus spoke Rimbaud in the arrogance of youth. But he was voicing a profound truth. Man creates nothing of and by himself. All is created, all has been foreseen... and yet there is freedom. Freedom to sing God's praises. This is the highest performance man can enact; when he acts thus he takes his place by the side of his Creator. This is his liberty and salvation, since it is the only way to say Yea to life. God wrote the score, God conducts the orchestra. Man's role is to make music with his own body. Heavenly music, bien entend, for all else is cacophony."

~Henry Miller
taken from The time of the Assassins


that being said....
a poem called

trust


in my core
there is a glowing orb
third chakra from the bottom or the top
depending upon
which way's up...

a golden trumpet lay akimbo
this body of the SPIRIT
dancing in limbo

trying to find a path
the mind fears lost
but lost is a state of mind
and found is a mind state
all else fails accordingly
for nothing can actually predate
that which IS
and that which was....are merely vantage points from either side of the mountain
the top is the bottom and the bottom the top
once you realize
we chose this muck.

like all humans i have emotions
like the rest of us
i get flustered depressed and angry
but make no mistake
when i am strong
as i am now
i feel nothing but gratefull for every stitch of pain i've ever known
i need nothing from love
except for its bliss
and its bliss is the one core fact
LOVE exists....