MAJICK 22 (for the Minor Incantations)

[Napoleon Bonaparte, the mirthful mystic performing a mind reading, Fu Machu, The Great Sunflower Coterie, Illusions, enchantments, mysteries, Mephistopheles seeing thru a lady, LEVITATION, sawing thru a woman, mechanically operated living head, enigma scientifique, harlequin automation, milk can escape, Black Art, fire & water illusion,]

Shedding these objects of hate and sacrilege.
There is always dark when there is light lately.
Just leave the antichrist t-shirt behind
You know there’s love WITHSTANDING inside you
And their words won’t hold you down this time…because
right now there's my own...

[…and the modern miracles, princess Mahomeda, Jacoby-Harms’s~ Spirit Photograph, Asrah levitation, the piercing arrow, imps and the Devil himself, Harry Houdini handcuffs and locks, the living half-woman sideshow attraction and optical illusion, “The Man Who Knows”, he reverses the heads of two living pigeons, he materializes cards from behind his knees,]

Whether I’m on my knees
Or on my bed and levitating,
Locked UP in, laid UP in my room,
I’ll be walking, I’ll be walking on the water soon~
It’s about time this ONE overcame,
He came back in, and he comes back IN victory!!

[The modern priestess of Delphi, levitation of princess Karnac, the vivisection illusion, Eva Fay, crystal seer ~ sees your life from cradle to the grave, Fredrick the Great studies the work of Faustus, the famous mechanical acrobat, Wood’s great sensation, Blackstone – who wears the whiskers? Egyptian Hall in London, Devil’s hell – escapes from a flaming cauldron,]

Between heaven and hell, between Devil and God, let this boy out
In the sun, reaching beyond boundaries, he knows that’s their war
But he’s not taking the blame again…
Conjure THIS poetry MAJICK, unchain him!

[acclaimed for his remarkable slight of hand, decapitation illusion, water torture cell, “The Matchless Magician”, the Queen of Roses, the vanishing lady, him with his magic apparatus, premier magical entertainment of the world, presenting new startling sensations and illusions eclipsing anything ever attempted before in the world of magic: BOTH WOMAN AND PIANO DISAPPEAR!!!!]

(was she ever the enemy?, I was thinking: was she ever REALLY the enemy, money, fame, fortune, photography, poetry pull me down while I’m lifting again, despite this stillness, I'm still sleeping in the wind...)

NEWS FROM THE MOUNTAINTOP

INTRODUCING: NEWS FROM THE MOUNTAINTOP, A VOLUME OF POETRY AND ARTWORK BY AARON KUBACAK

As told by Aaron Kubacak, the burning bush message of this volume of poetry is a reaction against the religious status quo. From the what if Jesus were gay, "Second Coming", to the satirical "News from the Mountaintop" that asks the question: why do we stick to archaic law that binds us to a ridiculous narrow view of the world, he charges spring poetry with a gay man's pursuit of overcoming his own Catholic upbringing. Summer is a gay man's view of America from a disenfranchised eye. In "American Dreamer" he examines the futility of the American dream for those who don't fit the mold. In fall, love is at issue including the sexually and violently charged "Ashes," a requiem for Matthew Shepard, "Laramie", and "The House in Tremont" in which he writes about the heartbreak of a haunted, drug-riddled open relationship. In the final season, winter, he re-writes the traditional Christmas carol in "Fast Star" and in the season of reverence exacts seething resentments against God in "GAY MAN'S RANT", juxtaposing among poems a loving affection toward the same creator that has become his own worst enemy.

$10.95 TO PURCHASE A COPY GO TO: https://www.createspace.com/3493373

ALSO ON AMAZON.COM @ http://amzn.to/nftmvol1

Love Spell

LoveSpell (Pieces of me/pieces of you) |A.K.

INCANTATION
Two waxen figures born in my imagination becoming flesh
Our figures tied up in rivers of light and colors
Populating
Each dreamLight changeling
Precipice into
Doorways
I love the way my body holds yours
I encapsulate you
While you capture me
Enraptured

DREAM PEACE
rebirth of love within one soul
When I close my eyes
I saw your face cast in light
Of the rising sun, skin golden
Rivers of alizarin running the length of your veins
In your chest, in your neck, love running deep in your veins and
Purified

In your arms loving words are always on my lips
Whispered in quiet breaths
When your skin brushes the tenderness in my heart
That I’d forgotten
Existed

REFRAIN i.
The world turns and I’m feeling out
My emotions again, from the wings of airplanes
I used to push through to control (and now I’m ready)
To sit back and enjoy this journey
Launching

Airplanes in the sky, contrail
Swan diving among rose gardens, palms
And the traffic passing us by in the springtime daylight
When I’m with you I fly
Without wings, without trying
When I’m with you happiness
Promises forever eclipsing
Leaving the past behind
I’m singing to your soul
And you boldly reply
My devotion is yours
While I worship you holy

IN CONVERSATION LIKE A GOSPEL
Sometimes he disarms me with
A compliment, I’m left stuttering
Searching for the words to love him
Back and there are many but his beauty
And the promise of his kiss are too much,
And I forget, so I bask in his voice instead
And am joyous and glad

Since you came into my life
I know there is a higher power
Leading us on to something
Enchanting

I PHONE NOTES TO U
U are a gift and I’m going to enjoy every
Moment of U
You make me feel like I’m on top of the
World today
And I don’t wanna stop being king
Ur the one who saved me and showed
Me love again
You’re the only one.
Lord, help me tread lightly
U know how I like to destroy the
Things u create for me
And this one is the one thing I’m keeping
No matter what
And this love
A song from above
I sing to him secretly
46 by the bus stop
I’m so in love with the world
Because he is in it
I want to get these decisions made so I can
Get settled, so I can plan out day to day
So I can get comfortable with us
Everything you said about the space
About moving in—I love. I love the idea
Of U being there while I paint. I’d like to
Move forward with u and I’d like to offer you
A place to live while transitioning…
I’d like to start making some longer term
Plans with you.

REFRAIN ii.
I’m going to relax into this love and
Stay here because it’s easy to love you

Without you I was drowning in time
Moving slower than a prison sentence
When you jumped right in
Decline bench press
Olive satin skin
Our hearts interweave, enliven each
Other with each word we speak.

DAMIAN’S INTERLUDE:
Love
Flows freely appealing to those gods
That know love who can surround our
Bodies propel us forward onward to
Something beautiful and happy.

REFRAIN iii.
I lay my weapon down this time
My defenses are unzipping
Lay my body down
Let peace come in
Let love become my being

SACRED CASTING RITE TO CLOSE THE SPACE BETWEEN US
Even if there’s silence in our day
It doesn’t mean I don’t think about you
Or that you’ve gone away
Because it’s pieces of me
And it’s pieces of you that make
The daylight brighter
It’s pieces of me
Pieces of you
That set this love alight

Here’s another toast to you
It’s wine purified becoming water again
Here’s another toast to you
May serenity come to find us in this place

A joyful happy beating of two breaths
For every one of yours
Little pieces soaring on cumulous
From the boardwalk straight on thru
The stratosphere settling along
Congress Avenue
Take a walk, a walk out in the afternoon
Running joyous along the lakeside

ENDING REFRAIN
Let’s get to the heart of the matter
It’s the heart that matters most
Right now all the answers are coming
My heart’s in L.A. today

Like Buddha under the bodhi tree
Loving you is loving me
Take me past the point of no return
Past the pitfalls of ego into something more real
Can’t get close enough
Eros bind us here
Unseparated

I like the journey not the outcome of
The journey

Regarding the First Three Illustrations

Regarding the First Three Illustrations | A.K.
(to Bradbury)

You're a meteor my darling,
Burning up before the sun,
Before the whiteness of the earthlings,
Before you flesh lying open. Undone.
His dreams become your stories
But your nightmares have only begun,
Along this rambling veldt nursery
Where there lies only regret and blood.

Hymn to Resurrect the Poet

Hymn to Resurrect the Poet | A.K.

Bathrobe belt tourniquet> God, inspire his morning again.
Sleek cannibalistic machine, syringe targets the blue-veined world,
it’s a different world, and Lord I’ve heard you, it’s a different world,
coming out, riding waves alone in a bathroom chair,
camera mind pulls out pornographic love anthems from the
TV in the next room.

Bless the sacrifice he brings> of himself->> could he ever be heroic?
That’s not what they would say. Not stuck here. Bound up in disease.
He can’t be touched by a hand of love, just shockwaves, rolling, shooting up;
another husband’s gone missing … on this sweet morning of praise.

Everything fades to red and this last hymn to resurrect the poet,
compel this poet back to life with your minor incantations,
he clasps a futile kind of hope and this hymn refracts the early light,
the kind of thing that is scarcely seen (except in cathedrals where angels tend to weep.)
sending up his smoke and mirrors, even up to the mercy seat,
this hymn resurrecting the poet, combat what path he is walking.

And then they sing,” lead on brave soldier, (if that’s what they want from him)”
Lead on Agatha in the in the morning, she’s clasping at silver threads,
pulling him away from lacquered tops, a velvet-tufted cover up,
decorated with stargazers and surrounded by those that say:
“he was just reckless and young,”
(Those that looked the other away)--and he still said all along
that once was never enough.

Man Deconstructed

Man Deconstructed | A.K.

How well do you party and play?
Man Deconstructed
Gotta live

Every day the same old thing
Lead on, coy, evade
Bob and weave
In some chamber
In the sky

And if this combination eludes you
Then you know
Something’s gotta give

If only for a single second
I could find some loving in your eye
Maybe then you’ll discover
The world you’re making here
Is a lie

Man Deconstructed

It’s way down deep
In the DNA
This day and age
Another sedative, another reason
To disguise

Take away this obsession
It’s just another place to run and hide

American Kewpie

American Kewpie | A.K.

I remember you there,
The boy I once knew,
Shy and proud
All dressed up in blue;

Now you're not around,
Not knowing what I had,
Not near enough,
'Til it quickly departed,
Now I see, see all the things
You did bring
Even though
Love has gone and faded;

Just call me,
Call me an American Kewpie
Who stood up for freedom,
For freedom from u and me;
Just call me,
Call me an American Kewpie,
I smile constantly
Even though it is
Raining;

Next time u see me
I may be a bit older,
Not the one u used to know
With a chip on his shoulder,
And our garden has changed,
And Lord it still changes
Deeply channeling
A desert uncharted;

Just call me,
Call me an American Kewpie
Who stood up for freedom,
For freedom from u and me;
Just call me,
Call me an American Kewpie,
I smile constantly
Even though it is
Raining;

Now I see daylight
But it could never shine as bright
As the days you said you made,
You had made
Just for me.

ShapeShifter, (a canto)

ShapeShifter, (a canto) | A.K.

*I.
Awakening to cries like burning in my mind, I
Awaken and I feel nothingness, he’s left me alone in the darkness,
a naked spot in the bed, sheets peeled back
Laying lonely and open.

What love was no longer brings sweeter dreams than
Nightmares screaming and the sickening smell of lilacs stream
In on city light from the open
Window,
His true nature has become his bitter obsession.

This silver ring is tarnished, the mood has left the building
For a hunger greater than I can satisfy,
I held myself more than he ever did, In my own arms,
But still I was
Intoxicated.

He’s a shapeshifter, I know what his body can do
He’s a shapeshifter, God, why can't I breathe
Every time
He
Moves?

*II.
It’s a hunter’s midnight,
The concrete jungle path gives way to a ceremonial enclave and a war
Erupts between my eyes and heart--I see you there,
Changeling, out in the dark--has this always been your truth?

I wonder if I really ever knew you
Shapeshifter, I know what your body can do.
Your skin becomes
Pelt, slick black shining vanes coursing the lines of your arms and torso
Sprouting arms reaching to wings, skull cracks, transforms eyes become
Pupil-less and white, jowls open wide beaked blade of scythe reaching hands
Open and clutch closed fists muscular razor black hair standing on end with hands now talons
Sprouting
Jagged nails, you pull back your head…howling…

*III.

Dark Pentecost
From the reaches of the primeval sin, dark warlock, son of the
Skinwalker, you call on Kalfu, breath caught in moon light
Night breathes in a dark language, a cry issues from
Mutated lips like bees, like flies, like the vulture’s cry
The voices of the night echoing out, shrilling from the undergrowth.

You see me I realized the curse you’ve placed on me
And I know your eyes can infiltrate my soul, they devour me, I see
Your hunger, it is wild. I cannot scream and I see recognition and
Shame erupt behind their reflective surface,
You flee into the night.

My body craves for you, my mind’s wrapped up in you
Your skin, your teeth, your hair
It’s more than I can bear
Your body can’t be tamed
It’s a deadly hunter’s game
You call on me to enter your soul
I’m losing all control
Your eyes burn deep inside
And I am paralyzed


*IV.

Shapeshifter,
Your tribal tattoo has been scorched with the hot blood of
Innocence, the breath of the raven god comes to eat the softest
Parts of my undying emotion like the wild boar caught in a trap,
Screams echoing down the steaming city streets even through my own
Sobs, like this disease, I long for still waters, I long for the sea
Caught up in your arms, your kisses becoming cannibalistic
This is not love, it’s a lycanthropic, heart throbbing,
Ravenous undertaking.

To wash away the misery of this truth and my heart within me burns
And blood pours to my feet and a rampaging
Past the point of no return
Now takes me.

Wolf bane in the streetlight.

My body craves for you, my mind’s wrapped up in you
Your skin, your teeth, your hair
It’s more than I can bear
Your body can’t be tamed
It’s a deadly hunter’s game
You call on me to enter your soul
I’m losing all control
Your eyes burn deep inside
And I am paralyzed


*V.

The way you devour me, your rage and the night,
Is a symphony of primal loving. Feast of flesh, my flesh becomes your flesh, for
The moment of life leaving my body,
Your love is a horrible ensnaring melody.

Spring night is fragrant
With death, I belong, now, on your altar of skulls,
Your eyes, they lie, and here I lie a morsel for your
Consumption, your eyes, they lied, and I fade to darkness, lost in your
Savage
Gaze.

*VI.

Shapeshifter, alone now in the darkness,
Regaining human form again
Returning to the apartment
But there’s a
a naked spot in the bed, sheets peeled back
Laying lonely and open...

You’re a shapeshifter, I know what your body can do
You’re a shapeshifter, God, why can't I breathe
Every time
He
Moves?

Totem Poem

Totem Poem | A.K.


THUNDERBIRD [His nickname was back then]

There’s a beacon erected beside my glittering home
It’s a needle shooting up a rifle man’s mark
It’s a covert magic that bends the rain
Sending up this chant to dethrone the King of Pain

PEACOCK [Antoinette knew how to weave her spell]

Her chandelier wavers in an abandoned hall
There was plenty to eat but she still had to fall
Rattlesnakes coil around every link in the chain
Because every virgin LOVE needs to be torn up

WOLF [He stands before a mirror, still wishing]

Diamonds fade, the moon becomes his muse
I know there’s such a thing as spiritual abuse
Dark Pentecost sends tongues around the bedroom wall
It’s his heart that becomes a crown lost in the dark
He still journeys to save this LOVE he forgot

FROG [His home was a flowerpot]

I don’t know how to feel for the union of men
When wringing tears out for the shade I’d been
There’s and orchid dead on the window ledge
It was drenched in drought every day it lived
And in living now, he still re-lives what's been
And he never wants to see that kind of safety
Again

CICADA [He doesn’t need to be relieved of his God complex]

Summertime sirens that call belching insanity
He knows what is past/what could be, will now, never be
Out at the fence line the prairie still calls him in
And it punctures what is left of this Sheppard of men
There’s dust that lines the rim of a golden bowl
Because trust is let out of his dispassionate soul

BAST [She sends out her solar war protection]

Give me your basket of your odds ‘n’ ends
Shake these crimes out and let me live again

Letter to the Pope

February 11, 2011

His Holiness, Pope Benedict XVI PP.
00120 Via del Pellegrino
Citta del Vaticano

Holy Father;

Growing up going to Catholic church I believed that God loved me, that Jesus was a friend. Then I began to realize my difference left me feeling like the only warm body in a cold room. I felt betrayed by the laws of the church and its view of homosexuality. I was naive. I thought things would change. How could they not because I knew who I was and I don’t like to be belittled for who I am innately. I thought that Jesus would hear my prayer and send and angel whisper on the tempered air of the Vatican and make known the plight, open a few hearts and minds while he was at it and really make a difference. But even if a few hearts have seen the unfairness of the status quo, the rules aren’t changing.
I know I was created by God—at least that’s what you’ve told me. And the differences between us, the best parts of ourselves that we have to share with each other are the essence of God in my opinion. Loving myself is the essence of God in my opinion, but the Catholic church sure makes it hard to love oneself if you’re different. I don’t think being defined by sexual identity even matters that much because we should all be accepted fairly for the human beings we are no matter who we love or are attracted to. Why does the church draw these lines that strike through the heart of my being? Why does society?

What would happen if the church accepted gay people totally? What’s the worst that would happen? Is your elitism worth that much to keep the sacraments tightly shut away from those who are honest and love your God? And why is it just your God? Why can’t this God be our God? Could simple acceptance be the end of suffering and bigotry?

Nothing hurts me more than that phrase in Leviticus that, in my opinion, should be stricken totally. What a prop for hatred! What a fuel injected engine racing us all towards an ugliness that Jesus would cringe at and gather up his whip to tame. It fuels my own resentments. I have to be the better person here or else the way things are would swallow me up painfully—in the past it has and I’ve found a way to overcome.

I don’t believe that discrimination should exist at all. We know now that Homosexuality isn’t this errant behavior that needs to be corrected. There are many, many of us and we aren’t going away any time soon. The sacrament of marriage as well as communion should be offered feely to everyone no matter sexual orientation and we should be blessed by His Holiness himself. I can’t tell you how many times intolerance has led us to suicide. Are you still going to turn a blind eye to suffering? Are you, Catholic Church, going keep in staunch support of your own laws no matter how many people it betrays and hurts? No matter how much credence it gives to those who would exact hate crimes against us?

This is unacceptable for a church that is supposed to follow a golden rule profit. You can no longer do this to us. You have to change your ways or I fear that more people will fall into depression, despair and death. You must open your hearts in this and welcome your gay brothers and sisters to the table, strike the word abomination from the bible in reference to homosexuals and give us lasting peace.

Sincerely,


Aaron Kubacak

Sent via email 2/11/11 to Vatican email:
benedictxvi@vatican.va

Transcribing the Lost Weekend

Transcribing The Lost Weekend (1945, Paramount) | A.K.

FADE IN

He’s got a bottle suspended, out the window.
They are packing, she comes in and I think she loves him.
A mis-launched cigarette betrays a true crime
of a man who can’t seem to draw the line.

Conjoining circles, on the table top
counts how many drinks. And he kept on going
until he brakes himself again.

Brother’s in protest, but she she’s stepping in, saying:
“But we must help him. He’s a sick person. He
needs our help.”

Like a bottle hanging from the other side of his heart—[here I insert,thinking of Dali’s work of art: The Poetry of America (unfinished)]Candle burning in his mind fueled with his obsession and he’s not afraid to see the Nile on 3rd Avenue with Cleopatra’s barge floating by.

See the inside of a shot glass, the curves and bevels emote an eye—He loosens his tie in ecstasy and daylights coming through the cleft of a curtained window. He doesn’t know if it’s the morning light or the last offering of the afternoon.

Her words, a chorus:
Gloria, she’s your glass of water,
Gloria, she’s marked by a cigar store Indian…

He can’t step off the roof and expect to fall just one floor and he tells her: “the first time we met, I got drunk just for your sake!” She replies: “My sake…we’re talking about you!”

Beautifully proportioned and vast in scope, mind is always clearer, cleaner before another drink, another bender, another spree and there in quiet desperation of a writer’s anthem—“Give up the dream of being a writer for a straightjacket! That public accountant job! 33. Living on the grace of his brother, box of 40 cent cigarettes and zero, zero, zero!”

So he’s writing “The Bottle.” But he’s not hooked on his craft as much as that and now he’s tearing up closets. And bookshelves. And “Harry Joe’s Where Good Liquor Always Flows.” (And we know all along, that what he’s looking for is still secured in the chandelier…)

And then there’s a carnation for a kind lady but they’ll just give us another verse Of “somebody stole a purse!” on into insanity. It’s little monkeys, turkeys in straw hats, like the doctor says, “delirium is a disease of the night…” Because it’s
just like that, the mouse and the bat. It’s like this and like that. (Now on the bed and snapping.)

Now in the rain she comes to him, a pleading lifting to his depression. She was the one, the one who understood that his core was always a sponge: ruthless,heartless and thirsty.

RAINCOAT. From a doorway, dolly shot shows reflection of a gun hidden in the sink, reflected in a shaving mirror. She offers him a drink, the one thing she knows that will keep him alive right now, saying “why won’t you make up your mind! People with purpose have stopped. Just like that!”

Thank god for intervention, Helen! A miracle! The bartender brings him his typewriter—not a drink this time. And she tells him to put it all on paper because it “concerns so many people.” His decision: to use that last drink for an ashtray.

Then he says: “now to find the first line…” and he does. “My mind is suspended out the window just about 18 inches below…”

FADE OUT

Alex in Wunderland

Alex In Wunderland | A.K.

Water
in the stream
is as blue as the night .
Fishing stars,
signing lost sleep,
they come with a price.
you better take cover,
there’s pink clouds ahead,
just ask the white rabbit,
his stopwatch is wrapped up in ecstasies
this time.

And his America
is lost again
hopped up on sunny days and what might’ve been,
it’s a golden afternoon darkening
and what was once innocent now becomes costly.

Then there’s Alex in Wunderland
In a way you often knew,
The world took him and bleached him
A starkly white
And showed him he’d be bigger
If he ran from the light
And the world’s strangely Technicolor
Being this dim and somewhere
Somehow he knew he’d never fit in,
Just a satin worshiping Devil
That was born pulling out pins.

There was
a launching off at the waters edge.
Disengage
this blinding theory that holds us in the situ
of existence.
He goes to a land,
a land where hate is king
and the queen deals justice out
with a mirrored guillotine.

Thru a keyhole,
somewhere
in dreams,
I find myself standing there
a doormouse, a librarian
and a wasted time machine.
My beard has become longer,
he says I’ve been to California and back,
I stand there with boxes
tossing him laughter to cover up screams.

Then there’s Alex in Wunderland
In a way you never knew… then he said to myself:

“I’m perplexed because my soul doesn’t
Exactly follow the scientific method.
When I feel the edges of the furniture
with my mind and the room is clean
and I’m talking such nonsense
(Like Wunderland did)
and I’m feeling much better,
a renegade to the law and like humpty dumpty
I had a great fall…”

“And in this land I fear
there’s too many pigs to play with to ever hold dear,
and in this land I know
that night is always the day
and the truth in the mirror
isn’t some realm superior,” (turning now to TV’s he continues his speech),
“within/without these smoky eyes
turnabout.
I’ve resigned my self to understanding you,
your world, your precepts,
your life,
withal.
The archetypes find
emptiness for those
who love like me,
caught in your maelstrom of cards,
ever changing faces:
red and white and as blue
as a boy can be.
They’ve painted a life
without me in it,
but I do what I do
and tell you I know,
despite this world,
I know I’m the truth!”

A tear streamed from his eye
and I knew the place where I’d been.

I didn’t think I’d see him again
but I followed me to the table
and changed into a suit of armor
honoring Alex in Wunderland.
And I knew the road was long.
Then I shutdown
this memory
somewhere in the card catalog.

Then there’s Alex in Wunderland
In a way you often knew,
The world took him and bleached him
A starkly white
And showed him he’d be bigger
If he ran from the light
And the world’s strangely Technicolor
Being this dim and somewhere
Somehow he knew he’d never fit in,
Just a satin worshiping Devil
That was born pulling out pins.

Cocoon

Cocoon | A.K.

Rivulets run red from the scar beneath his breast re-opened;
Spread your seed on earth, maestro, but you’ll reap your need
In heaven,

Just like a first kiss beneath canopies aflame with
Crepe myrtle blossoms,
He lies in wait for a new love to come and take him
From his symptoms.

Caterpillar temptress,
You’re far too young
To get out of bed
Instead you toss and turn
And invade another head
Despite me,
Through this fortnight,
You’ve had so many loves
That he has to keep his channel
Charged and
Loaded full of doves

He says your day will come, before you know, by and by
And I reply: “I don’t think so, not in this forlorn lifetime.”
He tells me to take in some sun and learn to write sonnets with
No meter or rhyme Just to please no one, “you won’t be charged
with guilt for the crime…”

I’ll go to the chapel and pray to bring us a heavenly day
Where rainbows aren’t so challenged and serpents have no say
In how well it’s manned and played in hopes that love
Will break through the heart of the garden gate and then he
Says, “time will go on and, man, I know, so will I…”

Caterpillar temptress,
You’re far too young
To get out of bed
Instead you toss and turn
And invade another head
Despite me,
Through this fortnight,
You’ve had so many loves
That he has to keep his channel
Charged and
Loaded full of doves

And beneath starlit sheets butterflies decorate my soul
And I am looking, Mychael, for the life ever after
That will take me up and swallow me whole.

saintHOOD

saintHood

i.
[Notes from CBSnews.com “Gunmen Open Fire @ Ciudad Juarez Park; Six Dead.]
It is mid-January and another gun battle has ensued, six hours, two soldiers killed in the Gulf Coast State of Vera Cruz. Drug gang safe house was infiltrated. The gunmen resisted fiercely, standoff exploding with teargas and fire exchange.
And there are 34,612 people dead now in drug related killings across Mexico…

A grisly discovery noted: prison guard’s body mutilated in a parked car. Face, scalp skinned, stretched over the headrest of the front seat. Rest of the body found in bags in the car from unknown group calling itself the “baddest cartel.” Motives in many attacks remain unclear.

ii.

Malverde, you leave a bitter taste in my mouth
And I’ll have you know now,
This is a spell for your
SHUTDOWN.
The Virgin Mary needs better ammo.
I’ve got a strange flower growing
from my hollow to
your boarder town.

And I know the cops are searching
Is there a racist relief?
To take down this and combat
All that’s been done to me?

This is a cock block bullet
Straight to your growing field
Just another addict
But you can’t stop me now.

My words were whispered
On the air from a carpeted floor
Somewhere in the suburban hood
Where mothers are dealers

And a better saint, heart glowing,
I hope you betray their work…

Blood running out in the streets,
And this spell, you’ve got a hold on me
Souls are slaves to this greed
And this spell, you’ve got a hold on me.

I know there are mouths to feed, but people are dying.

I’ve fallen down to my knees, knocked to the floor,
Face in the dirt, balls to the wall and I want them to hurt
Like I’ve been hurt.

Turn it all around, let it all fall down
Light bringer, I’m not just a
SCAPEGOAT
Light bringer, I’m working now
For the betrayal of this cartel…

Warmer (Closer to Love)

Warmer (Closer to Love) | A.K.

He was a winter man
Bomb shelters
Embedded somewhere in his rumored flesh
He’s still
Getting a sense for the moment
Foot firmly pressed against my inner thigh
And warming
I get a taste of your anger

And it’s always a gateway to something else
But sweetly
Like the blue in your eyes or the sugar packet
That holds these lines
(Closer to love, I still can’t get close enough)

I’ve drunk you in quite freely
I’ve lost the taste for the alcohol
This fit is a powerful disarming
Of all that I’ve held true for so long

A table’s reach is too much
Banishment to a distant territory
For someone who likes to get better
You make me feel better without even trying

Across trailer park dreams and islands
And in coffee shops light bulbs should dim
He was a leftover man
Now repackaged, retooled and
Repurposed

White Winged Painter

White Winged Painter | A.K.

So you’ve found a new life
So have I
Where you have peace and beauty
Well, I’m just finding mine
A white winged painter
I see you there
Among sketch books, lost horizons
That drown me in the worst of times
Among ebony chalk
And outlines

He’s a magic man
He’s got roses struck in flesh
A flesh beyond what’s mine
And I know there’s a palette
Of discovering
Where to draw the line

I’ve been thinking about tomorrow
Because I never thought tomorrow
Would ever find me
I’ve been thinking about tomorrow
And yesterday was insanity

Illusions, enchantments
Mysteries
I slept them all under
I kept them under my covers
Until I folded in
Downward
And I’ve been seeing that already
When I never thought I’d be ready to release my fears
By becoming what I feared
And now I know it’s time…

And I was every guy's man
For that one minute
Of pure desire
So I walk with my head up
Recklessly into the fire
Unable to release the past
Now it must be changing
Changing In my mind

I’ve been thinking about tomorrow
Because I never thought tomorrow
Would ever find me
I’ve been thinking about tomorrow
And yesterday was insanity

I feel so comfortable feeling things out
It’s unbelievable
Strap me inside this familiar
Machine and I’ll
Fly, fly, fly away

NEW USES FOR THE AQUEDUCT

NEW USES FOR THE AQUEDUCT | A.K.

SECRET SO CLOSELY GUARDED
NO, BATTLE OF ACTIUM
ALL IS A METAPHORE

WHAT YOU SEE
BEFORE YOU IS
MIDAS OF MEKINOS
THE LAIR
--UTILITY DEPARTMENT OR AMUSEMENT PARK?
YOU BE THE JUDGE

-PRACTICAL USES-
LOCAL GREENHOUSE AND GARDEN
POST OFFICE
CITY HALL – NOTES IN BOTTLES
NEVER SOUNDED SO GOOD

MOUNTAINS -->
FAST EFFICENT – NO NEED TO PAY
WORKERS WHO MIGHT GO
“POSTAL”
STRAIGHT FOR ROME!! -->

Offering to the Night Sky

Offering to the Night Sky | A.K.

Read this poem
Into the sky at night
Where stars can take their hold
And words can gather might
It is the way of the wind
And the Mithraic clansmen
To know where gods are born
From the nature of imagination…

Casualty of Love

Casualty of Love (his freedom from THIS love and addiction broken lives club remix) | A.K.

Starting to feel solid again
And he’s starting to fly
Substance-less
Still his mind gets carried away
And I see now
You didn’t even learn to try

Because I tell you now, love dealer
He can’t be missing this,
Down and out, on the floor
Surrounded,
And your empty kiss

THIS is what’s less
Than a stealth attack circumstance
So what if he’s healing
From another fight with crystal meth?
Left without affection
And you didn’t even try
WHO GIVES A FUCK?
He’s still happy to be alive

Please forgive the need
To see right past your lies
A party-hard-love-catastrophe
Ya’ll never did see eye to eye
You’ve got a flair for flava
But I ain’t really sure
That you could be a real love maker
Cuz you’re always ready to score

And he’s just a casualty,
A casualty of love
He could’ve died there
Still, you chose the clubs
Why can’t you see through THIS?
He’s tired of the war
Rampaging within him
And closing all the doors

Love is a fighting hard man
Leading on to victorious
You’re still one more fix
Onward to eleven million
Who cares it all worked out
Because fate had it’s own plan
It’s just one more case in the trunk
That he couldn’t understand

He’s going to get stronger
And I know he’s getting stronger
Becoming a lover and less a fighta
Resurrecting sanity
Because he wants independence
And he’s asking for it
Now, down on his knees

And he’s just a casualty,
A casualty of love
He could’ve died there
Still, you chose the clubs
Why can’t you see through THIS?
He’s tired of the war
Rampaging within him
And closing all the doors

Stranger Secret

Stranger Secret (a good old fashioned cheating poem)| A.K.

It’s really funny how this came together
And me and you don’t need to talk at all
It’s like a hurricane in the sunny weather
The eye of the storm, the run before the fall…

I can’t forgive someone who never said sorry
The boy parade has me tired today
His stranger secret
Could break this one-man-army
To lay me down and take my life away

Calling in
Could never soothe a harmful memory
Or rock me to sleep after a long hard day
And if only your stories, darling,
Could lead to happy endings
We’d all live like kings
Until our dying day

I can’t forgive someone who never said sorry
The boy parade has me tired today
His stranger secret
Could break this one-man-army
To lay me down
And take my life away