he ran fast breath short dry throat up the hill where she had said she would love him forever when he got there and searched the air he found no mystic moon he knelt under the weight of his sorrow
Heartbreak
hey letter X
hey letter X
you’re my favorite
i relate with your
closed off heart center
but four very open ended arms
i too have closed in
and have for many years
but the more the heart shut
i kinda became vulnerable to
the dark underbelly of too much
awareness of things best left alone
some might say through this traveled winding tar soaked road that i’ve acquired more X’s than the Pussy Cat Theatre
i guess it’s the best to have open options not to get boxed in but at times in the midnight hourglass of time
the thought Xes my head that we both have four paths and our keys to the maps are rusted shut deep in our centers
broken heart
my mechanical
pencil lost somewhere in a
box of dead letters
truth hurts
a broken trail of rotted crumbs was what i followed
leading to your golden bed too good to be truth
it all began with that voice i heard beautifully harmonious
when i realized wicked lies came from your poet’s lips
when will will learn
it has been there since David’s death truth mercifully laid out
just and only human not chosen by anyone
born of lust that’s it nothing more than that
you’re lying to yourself aren’t you tired
no ornament jewel pedigree or endorsement can change that
if anything extraordinarily unimportant is what you are
get it through your head the fact is not out there it’s in front of your face
smile why don’t you talk in pretty words give the bestest blow jobs to him to him you are just a convenient commodity
with willing open legs spare me those perfectly rolled tears as you hope that someday he’ll take your hand instead
dull minded old girl your will is not your own buck up
it starts with one step then two and so forth out from the world into your house where your will waits for you to open your heart
and for once let it swallow you whole
to miss
my ears have heard
words and utterances
some warm some cold sharp void of life
i fill a dropper full of lies and squeeze them in my eyes
but they roll out eventually
the heart can’t be made a fool even if it’s mine
i haunt the streets and alley ways i pick at crates and smoke away the vision of a miserable creature
whose love just ran away and left her with no direction
in my nightmare the flying carpets are ubiquitous and free
the torment starts when you stop by to tell me about my sorrows
the roses pluck at their own thorns as if they know i won’t come back tomorrow
stone
a line followed not straight feet hollowed out by the bumps of life
a beat heard faintly like a radio sign from outer space on a kids ham radio
intuition dimmed heavy without direction like broken jade frowning atop the china cabinet
a kiss blown by aging beauty queens to the princess up and coming
young girl twirling on a pole old man staring at her bones she thinks of tea sets and raggedy Ann doll he thinks of the life he once so loved who is buried six feet under
the flowers radiant pinks and red stems green and full of life across a dirty street i sooth dry skin and raise my glass to Martha
memorandum
would it make life easier for you if i said outloud what i’d rather just share with you
would it make you a bigger man if i would publish all of my missteps and ineptitudes
do you deserve to know how much you mean to me the tears i’ve shed the drugs i dared to impress you
do you care about my thoughts my feelings my decrees or what i see around this word
if what you want is to fuck and bolt pretend that there was nothing wrong
if all you want is to get a title of renaissance man a golden plaque with gilded letters and pretty words
that’s not really me i’m now buried in a cold dark life locked in under the headstone you chiseled for me etched with nothing meaningful
Christmas Eve 93′
hot chocolate candy canes almond cookies apple wine
red bra black leather pants black stilettos two blue eyes
one green eye hazel on the left scratches cuts and bruises
he wonders how she got em’ but too afraid to ask
instead he holds her tighter cus in the end she’s always gone
in the middle of the night he gets up pees and scratches his ass
just big boy that no bride could tie down
she slightly opens up her mouth gaping like a baby bird
and he sneaks quietly into her arms catches a whiff of patchouli from her hair
two wet paper winged angels just hoping for some love
libertin lâche
kiss my cheek
lie to me
mercy given tonight
losing something
not mine
Sweet poison
sweet poison
one dishonest caress
i know
you’ll run
to her
raven beauty
young supple
mind big tits
and designer smile
it’s ok
i play the game
i’m banging
the green eyed philosopher
on Wilcox place
can we just be honest
it’s ok for me to say
i like sex
it’s ok
for you to have lady friends
as long were all cool with it
and take responsibility
of not spreading germs
or making sweet babies
to suffer in vain
i know i started off nice
life is not nice
but we can be nice
if that’s what we want
the philosopher knows
you know about him
it’s ok if you bring her
i like your touch a lot
love is for others
but not for my heart
words less spoken 