Always Windy

The wind exists inside of me.

I can topple towers, I can uproot gardens, I can magically whisk imaginative girls to far away places.

The wind is neither predator nor prey.

It is a response. Every gust of rushing invisible power influenced by the shifting cosmos tilting the earth and reshuffling the cards across the board. Some days it feels remarkably tame, and other days it feels like unstained insanity, mentally under feet like wildebeests stampeding…

I killed Mufasa, but saved Simba.

Abandoned Vader, but empowered Luke.

The wind exists inside me, never to be conquered, vanquished, or stilled.

I am the wind.

I am intelligence.

I am creativity.

I am free.


The Juvermeinx

I have decided to have nothing more to do with them.

I will leave them to rot in the chaotic, lying fumes of their hell razed fairytale.

I shall let them linger in the cheerful woes of their mocking delusions.

I shall let them perish in their arrogant displacement of balanced thought.

I will leave them to their imminent demise upon the island of righteous self intent.

I shall despair not when the sky of truth comes crashing down on them, and they have no cloud for rescue.

I shall trouble myself no further with their elegant modeling of the libel they struck me with.

I shall tend to the well being of only a precious few.

All earthly hell be damned, for all earth shall be damned in hell.

There is one path to Heaven and I have taken it.

Do not confuse the roads leading to the pathway to Heaven, for the pathway to Heaven itself.

It is perhaps most un-angelic of me, but I am neither angel nor am I Savior.

I am done with them, I say. Finished. Let dust flecked feet upon well trodden cobblestones, be our witness henceforth.

Sincerely (if I may),

The Juvermeinx

Empty Gates

When does the game end…

I’ve been forced into a force quit- a no holds barred match for life where the only way to win is death.  No breath is given without one being taken away.

Behind this smiley faced emoticon emotions are gone, and our “con”versation has become my favorite con in the making because I make you believe I am who you want me to be in the moment. You keep me remote, and I keep control.  This joystick has been replaced with pain because at the end of the day… that’s all there is.

Pain stuck in my side, as I bleed out the room…

Winking at all the pretty ladies… desperately trying not to think of them as possibilities and maybes… because my crazy is, a flagless ship- my heart bears the broken bones of reckless pirates. A soulful sire clubbed with broken iron.  Broken armor.  A woman’s touch is just enough, but still too much, I drink though my bladder’s full, I just can’t get enough…!

When.  Will the game.  End.

There is nothing beyond these eyes.  Do not be fooled by shining irises soaking up light like some universal sponge- once light enters into these retinas its life force is over and done. A blackness darker than Africa’s penumbra rules here… a puppet master of masterful vocabulary, verbally inducing his strings… you think this is the real me but it’s all an act.

There is nothing behind these eyes…

When.  Will the game.  END.


At first glance you might have missed it…

Upon your eye’s first pass you might have squinted…

But then you moved on.

After so many blinks, you’ve seen so many guys, and after so many tries your try was never satisfied and so for that brief window of time where I caught YOUR eye… you thought- nah.  He can’t be that guy.

You had no idea that I was the idea of romance that spawned all of your dreams of marriage.  No clue that I was the final piece to unlocking the cobblestone path of true love without putting the horse before the carriage.

No… My dress statement was average and static, and though your eyes might have seen potential, all your ears heard was “statistic.”  … your concept of love has ceased to be spiritual.  You wonder why you’re goin crazy searchin for it, and it’s because your hurt over it has reduced it to merely mental…


That’s what I would have given you.  From this blue-green earth, to the sun to the moon, and even – should you have demanded it – the laces off  of both of my shoes!  I LOVE you… but from your point of view I don’t even know you.

I’m walking around wearing my heart on my sleeve wondering who’s seen me, my bag of tricks is Houdini- gone in the cloud of smoke left by ungratified desires.  All I have is honesty now.

Every thing inside of me capable of longing is stretching out towards your embrace.  Though your face passes over me, I keep one hand on the stars and the other over my heart and pledge allegiance to the fact that no walk down the city of universal calamity could ever tear us apart.  Tearing up may start, but every thing that tears are made of is spun into gold when placed in my hands.

I can… give you- everything.

I’ve got more kisses than there is time to give them to you…

Words sweeter than the greatest wedding cake to keep you full every lifetime that we fall in love again…

Though I be but a passing glint in the disappointed darkness rising in your pupils, I remain forever your pupil, dedicated to learning every thing about you…

Watch my actions, hear my words, feel my heart- know me.

Let me know you.

And together, we will be-


The New Ones

The light dawns…

And dawn alights upon the dawn itself, piercing eager blue eyes.  Swirling in rich brown pupils.  Twinkling in the magic of green irises.  Shining is… a gift.

Presented as a peace offering from the universe to the planet earth.  A token of goodwill, and a promise for a better future during misfortune…

The sun is always shining behind the clouds.

And as it shines, it dials.  Tick, tock.  Dials the hotline for newborn purpose in newborn life- tick, tock.  Like the foamy crests of a rebellious ocean wave or the perpetual pull of quicksand under gravity, mankind is the force that won’t be tamed.  From infant to decrepit traveling the winding road from womb to tomb, this wild people can only be herded.

But these eyes do not know that.

Gently blinking, long lashes sinking into unwrinkled perfection softer than fresh grass wrapped in foam.  A wail of complaint, not against anybody in particular, but a desperate plea to return from the glory recently departed.  The internal burning of the soul for the embrace of Heaven begins with that first toxic breath of life support we call oxygen.

But if your eyes were once filled with the glory of God, and your lungs filled with the vigorous adoration of angels, how could you easily settle for mortal fate racing like a deer in the hills in the opposite direction?

The light dawns…

The dawn of light is for the new life.  The new rights, who knew right, and must provide new write.

Light is constant- even when eyes can only see the dark of the moon.

Seven pounds of flesh guarding one very precious will… The light dawns and all at once all is still…

The new ones just want to feel the warmth again.  Don’t force the butterfly before the cocoon, but rather give them a chance to experience love again.  Head to chest, body to heart, softly murmured promises that not even death can tear apart…

This is what the new ones know.

And as they old, they gold, so long as this newness is held close.

The dawn of the light…