Saturday, January 21, 2017

Victoria in the morning
these are the people of your
homeland

Ride the streets midnight outlaw
she don't care how cold it
is
she don't care how lost we
are

laughs at the rain
wants to get her make up
running
Doesn't fear the pain

(lets life burn her truth
with a sweet aroma)

Written in a Phoenix motel (my paradise) January 20th 2016

So this is my Phoenix
after the ashes and burning
(She always said I had eagles
wings)

Here with the nubian goddesses
and mexican princesses
of all my dreams
we ride burning

Palm tree lined highways
cacti salute our glory

We love you pappi we love
you mammi
mothers and fathers of the homeland
burn me into the dessert
burn your secrets into my skin

I have risen
again

Monday, January 2, 2017

What if we became
all those things we
dreamed about

Those fantasy
times we already lived
out

No one understands about
the flowers and the girls
in the pyramids

The Euro-goddesses
flogging ecstasy past
the borders of
consciousness

And we channeled our ancestors
and blew away the stars
certain planets aligned in a dimension
slightly outside our
own

Street dogs howled and third
world fires bunred away
my Western dominance

With King DNA
and the need to be free
It's a Jesus thing
this path I'm on

Lookin' for my
Ride or Die

Sunday, January 1, 2017

The inversion of the absence of your
ego casts an empty shadow

The intuitive intelligence captures
the all knowing light of infinite
grace

(we are eagles scavenging
cosmic skies for these
artifacts)

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Too bad about the
Dirtman

After goin' to heaven
and all they said
he couldn't stay

so he said
"bring the wine and I'll
turn it to water"

Thursday, December 29, 2016

I knew the
Dirtman

he was a
Biker

he liked to get
High

(turned toward the
silence
inside)