Archive for February, 2015

It’s a night for Elton John, Three Dog Night and a glass of water.
No blue pills required. 
When wondering turns to knowing, evolves to certainty,
and the skewed is laid out in cocaine-style lines
instead of jumbled like spaghetti noodles,
this. is. peace. 
A change of scenery leads to serenity,
where I am free to think any way that occurs to me.

My glass is neither half full nor half empty;
it contains the often forgotten air as well. 
To be taken so for granted,
to be overlooked and abused like air,
is to be what lovers claim “you are my air”.
Do not treat me like you treat it. 
Neither, like water, will I let you poison me, heat me, boil me. 
I. am. fire.
Consume. Produce. Heat. Light. 
Fueled at others’ expense. 

I make tracks in the earth, shallow and quick
connected to the flow of life, with a fast heart and pounding feet.
I am soft to the touch, difficult to catch.
Easily manipulated when in terror, struggling against the snares,
to bound free over earth, below sky
loving, nurturing, comforting, inquiring, listening
Oh, to keep going and going and going…
I. am. rabbit. 
Lucky feet and wild eyes.
Burrows in the earth when hiding, sleeping, Safe.

The foolishly unsleeping heart
Concrete with sorrow,
Leaden feet face tomorrow,
Harrowed thoughts on paled skin,
Undone in remembrance.
You and I, resembling fondness,
Soberly weeping with unfettered meanings,
Dammed eyeworks fixed sideways;
Candor more comfortable with contact unseen,
Only felt.
Intimate, hidden from even distant planets,
Our dealings somehow shameful
Until you felt warm.

I serve to warn as example with endless interpretation,
Bottomless, relentless tribulation,
Fallow trepidation
Punched out of frequent purchase cards:
Never reaching free.

I have stared at you for days, and it is not something I do.

I would rather stand with you in the rain
Than to divulge or indulge in further pain
apart.

Frigid

Posted: February 19, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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Subject to icy mornings, fraught with tension
Like telephone wires and towing cables.
Warming from within, swallow silence with gasping breaths.
Selfish. Impulse. A mutual reality bathed in secrets and bound by silence.
Reasons have nothing to do with wants,
But fulfillment.
Similarities have nothing to do with how
Two bodies struggle toward satisfaction,
Understanding not whom, not why, but what.
Questions do not apply. There is no uncertainty.
Electricity makes slaves of hearts as well as desires make of those left unsatisfied.
Still, fires burn as constantly as needs become fulfillment.
Submission to attraction and reciprocation leaves the strongest frail,
Tearing down the walls to reveal an entity between trust and apathy.
Because only the lonely love each other,
The rest are just in it to feel.     

Alone and Empty

Posted: February 17, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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One line, not two
And the knot in my throat solidifies,
because I am quite certain that I
never knew what I wanted.

As beautiful as dreams can be,
nothing hurts as much as the reality
of knowing
you really
have nothing left
of him.

One line, not two
And what should be relief is mixed with
regret,
because what could have been is
over. 
I am empty inside,
alone
completely now that my dreams
dissolved
as the solitary line on my pregnancy test
came into focus.

Coin Slots

Posted: February 15, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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Amusement, one night only!
For the low price of
A fifth of jager,
Maybe some everclear, darling,
And I’ll quit being such a good friend
And take you for a ride instead,
Not caring that
Using you
Is bad.

Insert,
And enjoy.

It’s not as if it’ll fill the void,
Although it fills holes
And fills silence.

Jump through these hoops,
See me swallow swords,
And here for your enjoyment,
Tonight only…
A balancing act fit for your
Hunger.

Watch as I spontaneously combust,
And burn you to ashes.
Tonight,
Only tonight,
And you will never forget this unbelievable shit.
I’m the saddest fucking carnival in town.

Facing Off

Posted: February 13, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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Three wise men burned up
In an Irish car bomb,
And moments spiraled, ever more pivotal,
Condemnation inevitable,
Indiscretions in a drunken flow
Of late-night confession,
Cuz I’m pissed off, dammit,
So I’m gonna tell you I love you
And sleep elsewhere.
Cuz that’ll show drunk you from drunk me
While hung over me tries to remember
Where we left our keys.

Inebriation is annihilation,
Nihilism-wisdom; intuition
Feudalism nonexistent.

Can’t feel my legs
Like I couldn’t feel my numb lips when I
Kissed that chick
You flirted with.
She’d’ve cried wolf at first light anyhow.
We’re bad choices for bad choice-makers,
And don’t you know
That I know
You’ll find someone else.

And don’t you know
That I know
I won’t leave when you do.

Ingenious, the way we do this;
Intelligence, madness betwixt
The indignant and irreverent
Webs, entrails of very heavy words hissed
By such sweet lips.

Any guy could make me cry,
But only your hands on my shoulders could make me stop.

Muerte

Posted: February 8, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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Oblivion seemed so welcoming, open until it tried to swallow my memory of love.
Indifference seemed like the best kind of numb till I couldn’t feel the rain anymore,
blindness…. until I couldn’t see the stars.
I’d give up my memories to hear “I love you” from your lips again;
to have you realize the kind of depth I knew cuz
You claim
To have known
Deeper.
So why does surprise arise, light the fire in your eyes when you ask me “why?”
Hamlet said “Never doubt I love” and you, dear, are my Ophelia
Or….
……..you were…..
Roles reversed, because the helpless is me now,
And you’re the one who’s seeing ghosts.
And I see you crying in my dreams, breaking, dying, lying with your smile.
Music howls at me in shreds of torment, regret, ruing time spent waiting.
You needed more from me than I knew to give
Cuz….
Trust makes me blind to the damage in your eyes
The hollows of your lies, the meaning of your goodbyes.
Devil beside you, heaven beside you, conflict within you.
Had you ever known the way I’ve seen you, perceived you, felt you,
More than skin and bone and soul under my fingers,
More than an ocean to submit to tides and gravity;
You were life. Pastpresentfuture in a box with a bow.

Closer to the Sun

Posted: February 7, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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When the brightest things are overshadowed,
overwhelmed, overfelt, understood,
that’s when I need it the most;
that omnipresent beating thing within,
no matter how it’s writhing, squirming, devouring itself.
When release is impossible,
no matter how many screams I tear from my hollows,
Years of delusions, lies and abrasions, intrusions,
instructions not in-fucking-cluded.
I recall all too well the reasons I couldn’t say no.
And can I eclipse the past with the present?
Or will I find myself like Icharis,
soaring closer to the sun, burnt from trying 
to compensate for the clouds you’ve strewn my life with?
Melted from the oppressive heat, a slave to backlash?
Am I to be reprimanded for my mistakes so cruelly?

Yeah, Karma’s a bitch.

Red pills beckoning
Small dose fit for a lightweight
Fever dreams promised.

Kills pain just like M.
Pity I am happiest
When miserable.

Cannot bring myself
To swallow, knowing I will
Only feel sicker;

So low I will hate
Resurfacing ever,
Cold, unhappy hell.

Besides, I do not
Have the money to keep me
Sedated, buried.

2 Haikus

Posted: February 6, 2015 in art, poetry, writing
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To Sleep Without Pain
Comforters, pillows,
And Naproxen Sodium.
Now, oblivion.

Drawn
Similiarities
Create strong magnetism,
Comforting friendship.