I  can envision you on the depths of my broken heart
Eye to Eye, entitled openly to love you
A devastating remedy only you surface into the sea
Ways away, hoping to fly
Why did you run into the wilderness?


Angels cry, orchestrations, open birth
	on Venus sends,
Sounds, visions, capsizing fruits
and immediate sexual colors.
I stand alone on the desert blue,
concentrate constellationally and smile violet,
breathe as we did as our hearts connected
and empathize our controlled garden.
Is there pity?
Is there another yesterday?
Man only feeds what creation propagates,
unto the aura,
cities, bungalows, & movie stars,
Innocent children stuck in infamy
Please respect your virtue,
	silver and shaken,
universal visions,
	answers on pale crookedness
I may be unrevealed and destined
	to be a marvel, crook, genius,
	or a mediocre standard
	on a chart, a stat, nothin' important, insignificant.

T.K. / Mojo Risin’




Dislogic sensual immunity.
Maybe the birds and their tears 
	can calculate the years,
and our mother is dying in the sea.
People are occasionally accurate and profitable
in a late sense of being.
The rodents scurry from their bruised bosom
as a rotten champagne sobriety. The stars revolve
around my pale finger, as I journey more into
the beast. Gilded and pure the water from your
toe is puddled involuntarily within a tiger’s tooth and
today I know myself too good. A former junkie, 
or perhaps a late figure in pre-Madonna
sequence. Sun bubbles, mushrooms, laden azure
oversees hallucinogenic prophets that dislodged burdens,
on our great creator of Sincerity.,
The answer is pale green, paper folds on stagnate
concrete as rain smogs forgiven hornets
on a burnt swollen tongue.
The ring fits perfect,
	and our solar system is imitative gravity,
as the next block of the blood thirsty century,
		is dead weight.

T.K. / Mojo Risin’



The Sun
We as One
Children of Infancy
Setting us free
Eternity
Letting me see
Reasons and ways
bleeding to
Know the days

T.K. / Mojo Risin’

 

The red Death is across the filtered lawn
approaching you,
as my eyes compulse to fixtures on a stallion’s 
thirsted fist.
Still, darling, my seizure is heart-bloodened as
the walls still smile as unborn masses of
magazine dust, reunite four, the dry sacred moon
Comical shyness is plunder, deeper and under, 
as the syrup of suppression is warm and wet, 
under an evil crucified sycamore.
And my eyes are almonds, still as occurrence is
blue and stifling, as my arm is separated by
a blind woman’s pain.
Owls and thieves grant my only obsession that 
is germinated on a folklore or perhaps an
obvious capsized finger
		on the depths of reality
The light cuts darkness
Shades and embers in two
As ancient Bohemian corpses
		embrace my vividness.

T.K. / Mojo Risin’



Hands pierce the assassins that were plushly
aromatic, as arrival is dawns devastation.

The winter fog is in heat, as scared
sex is invisible in a peacock dream.

Businessmen perch their collars and assemble
as the last dollar is up for grabs,
		the stock market crashes.

Let me say - this is useless. We are trying
desperately, despairingly, to disdain our own
addictions. Likewise, my mama is glass
		on a velvet porch
that stare at hollowed criminal infraction.

The wise man sits in his rocker and fears
his fear. Letting no one know their silence is
crackling beneath a tomb (made of surgery tools.)


My mind is made up. The sun is cradled 
on the hot sizzling edge of my own scornful
soul. And the time helps not. As everyone is 
drowned in confusion. Enjoying
		what they don’t have.

T.K. / Mojo Risin’