As I walk down the street
looking at the poverty that forgot 
to wake from dreaming.
I know I’ve done my crimes
trying to walk that damn straight line.
I ask myself why
and all I can do is lie
sitting here drinking this wine
wondering where I’m at in that line
finding a way to express my name
when I know these addictions I can’t change
Never knowing the meaning to these riddles and rhymes
Even though the good lord gave me the time.
There isn’t no fun in shame
lost control is what I became
Baby when you left me
you told me I’d always be the same
Here with my music and my bottle
I hope I can find my lead back to the cross
cause God know I’ve been lost.






Creeping around to strive
The slice, a taste
 of the razor's edge
Hanging over like blue skies
afraid to wake from
 this dreaming, not
 knowing what the conscious 
might hold.
Down this long distance line
I die driving
 behind
The reeked confetti
laying in an insulted mind.
Mama didn't touch me
	dreaming
Those laughing faces I
can't keep from
	 teasing
Feeling as though
I've been freed
 to the leeches
Inside this burning house
	Burnt skin
Living like a mouse
off a fountain of sin
I can't remember where
	I've been 
or where I'll go
choking on the smoke.



The silent touches
for a coming crowd
the lucid stream
bowing to sorrows
winter child
The glass-covered pond
suffocates a face
of her grace
A link to dismay
as your pearls melt
through the corridor
to the rest,
 the loft,
 where you lay.



meaningful
sermons of forgotten
messages
	forgotten
fragile
redeemed chambers of
	lost hearts
	the resurrection
		angels
		of
	forgotten
   signs
amethyst moons
all is forgotten



Tangent intercourse lay
in rake sweet,
Sundays mannered feast of lords.
Waterfall ritual teachings
	forgotten metaphors.
Vast castings,
dull projections
attrition sunlight on
your wet snow.
in memory isles
remnants of dry insanity
on grey summons
in supplement ladders
the fallings of molested
identities.


Crying,
sighing on
cradle a rocking.
Riding moaning angels.
The white entities
secreting faces.
One,
left in the grass.
Of you and I.



Lucid dreams of Eden
fission of riddled hands.
Temperate colors in
Luna's pulsatings love designs.
Tattooing on divine rivers
in my eyes.
Lechery faces,
her bodies silks
of lei running the spine.
The inbred cries,
dancing wombs.
Souls of implicated
creed secrets.



Life swimming latex street,
destination avenue.
Corner zombies portraying
Jesus burning in the Everglades.
Nomads eating recycled
immigrants of rotten inbreds
back street america.
hypocrisy folklore
turning drunkmen's seine 
Dropped quarrel wet
the licking sisters.
Gaining freedom in after
life ecstasies of tomorrow.




Flowers leap the
flames chest.
Claws of perception penetration,
the dying crystal ship.
Lilypad captivity of you.
Hatred lays,
In the red-drop ponds of hell.
The biosphere delinquent rays,
of cool annointment.
Smothering the dying with
 rose thorns.
Ashes blossoming in burnt
death.


Running, auole casting upon broken limbs 
Blowing handicapped kisses across dying silver gloss
The blame of withered spirits and havoc
worshipping of fallen plateau. Arid seas
of fixed drops running in steady
nakedness.


Are you the blue entity
secreting through the grass?
Lusting forests equinox
tempting the equality salvation,
foreign in grain.
Surpassing the depths
behind you
left all alone
In winter's chill

Secret faces,
	empty
Just syllables
laying on mildew
grass of tomorrow.


Eating your fruits
In the 5 dimensional circle
of god's symmetrical head
On black mourning mornings of
indentured servants.


Feasting on immunity
devouring humanities
With mirror friends
diversities
In a mirage
diverged
the severed heavens
angled presents.

The sacred doors
Open her enlightenment
that withdraws in me.



Along the river's shores
standing on the cool four-petaled lords.
Ballet dragonflies,
dancing in the ocean's eyes
The whiskey comes to the doors
In the empty spaces lying off
the grass floor.
taking me away
along the river's shores
sailing the open dreams
looking for a remedy
Alone, along the river's shores
The chanting mating call,
black lust comes to fall
the false identities that show
remembering your little yellow glow
Back under the crescent moon
circling the winter spoon
Still cradling a lunar heart
Along the river's shores
Us and them and the warm dew
blowing out the candle in you
Down by the river's shores
The chained penetration in the moors
Dying by the river's shores.
The concrete fills in on me
Alone, along the river's shores.




Harboring illicit
dimensional warm dreams
astronaut children
of the cool powdered moon
crazy
contracted,
conception fingering
the crystal heaven shatter
stars and plants crumble
in a molting rain.
fire and ice
flowing the green mile
scripture




the shadows of silent defeat
mourners surpassing yield
in a debating corpse
vivid red straws dance like
feathers in the air. There her
labyrinth lace and ponies crawl
in the sand, imprinted erection
stand.



silent touches
silent faces
finding your sign
in the labyrinth of time.




Mornings of virgins drawing
lace. In the burdens of rusted minds
blind sanctuary
Comic stardust enterprise
a scarlet fever - the forests requiescat echoes
drop of silent voices
As the parade lines fading
In our final inheritance.



The lotion of her present galleries
sapphire dance of burning eyes.
cradled talisman's touch
hang from a noose between
blooming, milky, tides of love.




Laying in nakedness
the nude vegetation
to vegetate like infants
of immortal silk equivalent
touches, A angel's soft breath staining
yearning skin.



Calling upon you dancing across
broken waters. Are you a 
red shift refugee? Running
from the seance to your soul.
in the chambered eye,
channels of conversation
	controversies
left behind.
redemptions of meaningful
sheddings in lunas garden
of fire.
Is there a requiescat you seek
for you or someone like you?
The branch, soldiers of naked shadows
laying in conscious breath
regalia of immortal self-decomposed
love.
Or is it just the regicide of your
heart?






What they dispute?
I've found the other side.
The doors,
the channel,
the point beyond my eyes.

The hand of mind,
is the hand to find.
the hand that dies.

No certain direction
I'm free,
my escape to let
me be.

The illustration,
the subscription.
to the other side.

I'm learning to die.



I beloved you yesterday
‘cause tomorrow I'll be
gone with the wind
Your curved howling
stands in fixed drops
the repressed cries
to sanctuary alibis
I knelt to your
taste of love
To be beg me
your remembrance
I'm the newborn infant
yielding in today.





 

JUDGMENT DAY 
They look at the gloom
for they’ve met their final doom
above their heads high in the sky
knowing it’s their end, they watch and stand by.
The fire in the sky is closing in
now it’s judgment day, time to pay for your sins
soon you will all be fried
So child don’t sit there and cry
Lucifer’s evil shows, now for he comes
he’ll get you because you’re not the chosen ones
You can all run and hide
to him that’ll be fine
But before you know it he’ll be behind you 
and you’re all going to hell with him, too
You should have all found a crevice to hide and prayed
for you should all know it’s Judgment Day
The lake of fire burns hot
The flesh melts at just the thought
The torments of the soul
Now there’s no one for you to call
For this is where you’ll be
It’ll be too late before you see
This is the key
for tomorrow could be
Judgment Day.

 WG March 1999
 


 

THE SUMMARY OF HIM

He taught himself to grow up expeditiously.
But the reality of his life was tedious.
Responsibility became his best friend.
Even thought he was thinking about escorting his life to an end.
There was always an excuse for something great could be at waste
But what he had in mind wasn’t his verified fate.

The conditions he lived in were situated with a lot of mental abuse
Good times came and went, and he didn’t have a clue.
The things done to him and for what he took in, he’d wish it wasn’t true
when a break would come, in the end it would fall through.

He made it look like there was only joy, straight-faced
But nobody saw that he was on the verge of being a basket-case.
The fight to keep the hatred from penetrating him
The mental abuse would soon lead him to his ultimate sin.

At the age of 18 he wanted to change his life.
His expectations were a good job, kids and a wife.
That would all come to a halt in one night.
Because his mom’s boyfriend wanted to get in a fight.

The boy was appalled and boggled and it would incline
At the top of the steps, the devil or an entity stepped inside.
He didn’t want to harm the guy, but only strike fear in him for the boy was scared.
For what happened next, for a person like him, it’s hard to bear.

He warned him, and then a shot rang out.
The blood came out like a spout.
What he had just done, he didn’t want to believe.
He thought he was being deceived; 
5-15 years is what he received.

He’s grown up in 2½ years and matured.
He never wants to come back that’s for sure.
There is only one wish and dream he has with this.
That’s to save or help a dying person that is.
To him it’s the only way to equal out the mistake.
If it will ever happen he can’t really say.

WG  April 5, 1999



  

THE CRY

She was delivered into this world in a passable way
To live and grow jubilant, people would say
But soon there would be an end
For the bad would soon approach when she was only ten
The fulgent and glory of living would soon fade
She would be tricked and never knowing she was betrayed
Too young to realize and see the true him, then,
He pretended to be the good friend.

He was always good to her
To fool, he would buy whatever she’d prefer
As time continued on, he would start the process
His urge of sickness he couldn’t control
For he place his hands on her breasts
And threatened her, that she’d get in trouble if she told.

She knew what he was doing, was wrong
but to her parents he sung the perfect consummate song
The begging for someone to listen, fluctuated to a scream
No one was hearing her, like it was all a wretched dream.

There was a relative who would lend an ear
He paid attention to the story and seen the tears
From there it went to the law
The molester was picked up and went to jail , is where he was

On the stand he argued viciously, as he fought
The jury seen the proof and found him guilty, he knew he was caught
He was charged with sexual assault
Though he claimed it was all her fault.

He had a sickness, so he had claimed
to others there’s no pardon, for her to blame
The excuse he did employ, to me was pretty lame,
I’d put a bullet in your head, for others would do the same. 

WG April 1, 1999


 
 THE HIDDEN HILLTOP 
 
Outside of town there lies a place in the deserted part of the country. 
Along the road there’s a footpath you take. 
The trail leads you up a small incline through a substantial size snippet of evergreens. 
In the daylight, when you would tread through this patch of woods, 
one would believe you stepped into the edge of night.
To go through there, it seems like an adventure; 
when you make it to the brink of the Evergreens, 
it agapes into a very stout arable. 
The grassland is screened with charming and appealing flowers of a wide variety. 
Nothing ever appears dull or dead, 
for the location is greatly fed by spring.
This allows the flowers to indulge in the dark, moist, rich soil.
	In the pasture there is a high elevated knoll.
 At the summit of the hill there stood a healthy and beautiful Red oak. 
The Read Oak shimmered, compared to its surroundings. 
From there you could see the peak in all directions.
 The desolation and isolation of the area and surroundings 
made it an ideal place for a romantic evening.
There was a boy and girl, who came across this site by accident.
 Upon setting foot the y didn’t realize what a magical place they had found. 
The area had more energy than they could handle. 
The location was a magnet to their human spirit. 
The drawing force was something at the time they couldn’t touch or see. They made a commitment to come back to this place for an evening.
The couple had their problems between one another. 
Confusion and worries of the other were some of the dilemmas. 
The age differences and the possession that came with each, were of significance value. 
The one thing they certainly knew, 
was the love for one another.
 So, they thought this one evening could show them their mark.
The evening came, so they headed for the Red Oak tree.
All went as planned, for they made it just before the sun fell down. 
The two sat there reminiscing until the sun fell behind the bluff across the way. 
He found the right words to portray his feelings for her.
 As he stood gazing into her eyes, he place his hands on her soft cheeks. 
To caress and soothe her cheeks and wipe the tears away that fell from her eyes. 
He gradually ran his fingers down the contour of her face. 
They stood from there on, hand in hand, holding one another
There was no need of going on in their touching and feeling.
 They stood dancing in each other’s eyes. 
The spirits and would of each one danced inside the other. 
Everything they wanted to know was spelled out through their feeling. 
All in one night their lives came to life in that hidden creation they originated. 
From there on, they would always he one,
 for nothing could separate them,
not even their deaths.


WG April 12, 1999
 
 


THE DOORS
 
They open, they shut and isolate.
To sway and come and go. 
You open to be closed in one another. 
One can be taught easily 
where the next will never get the occasion to learn. What you bring unto others;
it’s like a revolution and can be brought and switched unto you. 
The door and what they do is forever in you.

Find the disease, dig out the illness. 
We’ve numbered on living; it’s all written down. 
No one can be erased; we’re all accounted for. Control, population growth, where can we go?
 Forever is never; for sickness is to roam. 
Search for there’s nothing to discover. 
The limit is to be found, but by then it’s too late. The door of live and death, 
it’s all just one silent quest.
	
Dying, agony, and pain it all has a place.
Some come, some go. Turning around is limited;
you can’t be saved. 
The fire, the pit or the sky, the clouds.
 Is there a pick? Love, peace, and harmony. 
Is there even a trace? No one can ……. 
what they don’t know. 
The doors of heaven or ……..a choice you can’t tell.

Pick, take or throw away. 
What’s today. What should I do. 
Here or there, the place it’s in your mind. 
Where should I go. 
The realm of possibilities none of us know what it is. Life or …..or take out the eye. 
The selection, it is yours and mine. 
The door of choice, for there’s no excuse.

To create the self. To think of things. 
The hidden world of contents in a person. 
The feeling. 
You invent or make, design. Science, it explodes. 
The killing premeditated. 
It’s what we do, how we work. 
To learn, have abilities. To love and know. 
The doors of thought, 
    a place where you don’t get caught.

To control, have the knowledge. 
Hitler, he controlled and mutilated. 
The preacher brings life and mutates. 
Manson learned the mind, for people did the dirty work. 
The power to destroy or heal. 
Government, where the laboratory rats eating the pill. Destination it only goes so far. 
To make, those who are weak. 
The masters, the skilled. 
The human decrepits, for they can pin-point and see the meek. 
The doors of people see through these people before they see through you.


WG April 2, 1999