what if you weren’t there

billy blew
his brains out
and no one noticed

billy blew
his brains out
and no one cared

billy blew
his brains out
and you ask

who the hell
is billy anyway?

well, what if
were you

(D. James)

the dog at the end of the tunnel

yellow toothed dog
stares through
blood-shot eyes
in my nightmare

I know he
wants me
for his last meal

I’ve run from him
for hours now
maybe even days

in the end
he’ll have his way
because that dog
keeps me honest
because that dog
is me

his hot breath
rank with death

the only escape
is to wake
but either I can’t
or I already have

I’ll know in a minute
as he approaches
and I am too weak
to move

One way or the other
it ends here

(D. James)


The half-moon laughs
as we tear up the road
screaming at the night

With nothing but chrome
and black gloss
we ride ’til dawn

Our piece of heaven
forged in hell
hanging with the
fallen angels

And when the sun rises
we’ll put another night
to rest

(D. James)


isn’t my name
and yet I am moved
by the imbecile
gently led by his father
down the street
while screaming songs
at the top of his head
I am moved
by a white cloud
standing still
over the city
like a gentle threat
I am moved
by your breath
gently lifting the sheets
deep in the night
when I can’t sleep
Yes delicate things
move me deeply
and confirm
the rage hidden
at the core of my words
The rage of impotence,
hope and rebellion
– but not despair
Despair, you see,
is too delicate
for me


Bad ear (or I should get a medal for doing this)

My ear is shot
Haven’t slept in two days
and here I am writing
this miserable poem
Is it friendship pushing me
or just poetry’s bad junk
shaking me up and down
and never letting me be?


Anniversarery pome (To my partner in crime, DJ Eldon)

no candles
but fireworks
no explosions
but roman candles
we have written pomes
for one good year now
we are very tired
but our mouths are still
full of spit, tongue, stones
and words
no firecrackers
but live ammo
no funeral pyres
but a feather
of the Phoenix


Another mystery

The white veil of morning
creeps around the house
The birds are black notes
and their song hang frozen
in mid-air
We drink coffee in the kitchen
and I want to tell you something
but your words erase mine
and I forget what I wanted to say
and there is no way you can help me
and we laugh it off and another mouth
replaces my mouth with different words
forming behind the seemingly same teeth
although they are actually a few seconds


Em-ba-ra-ssing (To DJ Nic)

Went to a party last Saturday
and all evening I wondered
if my fly was open because
the zipper was broken or because
I was too stoned to zip it up
Time to quit?
Hell no


Burn all flags

The blue of the sky
crashes through my open window
and a few birds sing
to welcome the first rays
of the sun
Everything is still
except for the millions
of radio waves
spinning around us
like in invisible killer bees
and I say
to the wall
my chair my desk
the open window
the blue sky
the birds and their songs
“Burn all flags”
as flags frame you
in what you are not
and never will be
– a model citizen
a model father
a model nation
a model nature
a model bird
a model sky
a model model
burn all flags
the white one



The sun rose today
but I missed it
my eyes still blinded
by night and punctuated by stars
The sun rose today
and I didn’t
preferring to ignore
the glorious colors
to the monochrome black
The sun rose today
and I didn’t care
as I embraced
a lovely shadow
slightly smelling
of cinnamon


A clap of thunder

A clap of thunder
in a clear blue sky
or the strange reflection
of something not quite there
are our daily mysteries
so sit down
have a coffee
read the paper
and finally
accept yourself
as the ultimate mystery


Hermosa corona

Hermosa corona
shining high above the clouds
just out of reach of my wanting fingers
Hermosa corona
beautiful face wrapped
in silk and gold
you could be a vision
but your materiality
drags me down
Hermosa corona
if only you could
be a poem
a word an image
and disappear
as soon as
you were pronounced
Hermosa corona
I wish I could could
hold you in my hands
but they are tied
behind my back
and praying won’t help
Hermosa corona
your indifference
is truth
your glitter
and your power
Hermosa corona
I run in circles
after myself
please let me
have you




It is the time
when windows
are becoming walls
and children voices
are elongating
in the gardens
It is the time
when somethíng rattles
inside your chest
and you wonder
if death will come
and teach you
how to dance
It is the time
when you evaluate
all the things
you have said
and you realize
they can be summarized
in a single word
It is the time
when the sky darkens
and becomes this impossible blue
you have tried for so long
to imitate in your soul
to no avail
It is the time
when finally
turn to gold



Q: Why can we always feel when something bad is going to happen but never something good?
A: Because there are more bad things than good things happening to us.

Q: Why are there more bad things than good things happening to us?
A: Because we are cursed.

Q: Why are we cursed?
A: Because we are free.

Q: Is freedom a good thing or a bad thing?
A: It is a very good thing. That’s why we can’t feel anything.


Hell or some other place

This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
The ships have sailed
and the planes have left
their esoteric signs
of the sky’s blue wall
We didn’t ask to come
and no one invited us
but we are here
and it’s definitely not there
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
Some of us are hungry
and some of us are sad
I am lucky to be loved
You are lucky to be blind
The poker tables are full
and smoking is allowed
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
Don’t thank me for our journey
It wasn’t the one that planned
There is a toast stuck in the toaster
and the flames are raging high
You left your coffee untouched
and outside the sun is nodding
Everything is familiar
yet none of it is mine
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat
I guess we could say goodbye
or greet each other in tears
there are many wars out there
their fumes obscuring our lungs
I guess I should say I’m sorry
but I have yet to learn these words
This is another place
my friend
and we are becoming meat



Like love
is a potentiality
the coiled steel spring
the flexed muscle
the fluttering of an eyelash
a laughter
gas in the tank
like love
and yourself
a shadow
as faithful
as shadows
can be



‘s like quicksilver rolling in the palm of your hand
a strong card with many colors
a woman who can stare you down
a poem you thought long forgotten
‘s like a spot of darkness in the middle of light
a sword in a merciful hand
a shameless kiss on the mouth
something you miss but you don’t know why
something you miss but you don’t know why