do black holes exist or are they something i read about in a comic book? are those beautiful pictures of nebulas shaped like crabs and other creatures that i see in the science magazines real? how can i know for sure that this very night i am walking home? how can i know for sure that i am walking back to a home and that i will get there? can a black hole, if it is real snatch me up? would it think i am important? does it matter what religion scientists are? does it matter what i believe? does God want me? do i want God to want me? if i give and give and give will it make a difference? is it better to take and take and take? is my smile enough to save a dying life? my own? if i am sad is it bad? am i broken in an unfixable way? can i benefit from anything modern? am i too late for anything old? did i ever make love? do i have control over any war? do i have control over any deficit? do i reward bad and punish good? if i reward bad on earth and punish good on earth, will the bad go to hell and the good to heaven? why can i not explain what i know? is that bad? is dreaming bad? did Gabriel pinch my lips together? or did i just get punched on the mouth? should i talk? should i judge? would that make me a better person? am i compassionate? is there a time and a place for everything? what did my mother raise? did she have a hand at molding me? why do i like what i like? why do i like what i don’t like anyway? do i contribute to my perdition? am i good? does anyone think of me? do you?
Sobriety
scars
i want to kiss your scars
but because i am not a siren
with shapely hips and meaty mouth
to give you drink of goddess wine
i cannot have your lips
i want to kiss the scars
left in your eyes as she robbed you of your light
let my tiny spark as weak as it may be
polish the lens of your outlook
of better days to come
i want to kiss your scars
savor one second of your misery
turning my back on a million days of paradise
so long as you are with me
beloved, i want to wash her painful
judgments from your ears
and pray the angels speak to you
from God’s own soothing verse
i want to kiss your scars
the ones thickly padded on your knees
and with my dreadful feeble arms lift you from yourself
to watch you walk away so as you travel
i can see the scars that i may kiss
Oh! your tired back
and gift you with my humble blood
to enrich your waxing path
i want to kiss your scars
and stop the hemorrhaging of your heart’s capacity
to hope
and with my graceless ugly hands nurse it back
birth a brave new rhythm
knowing that this heart of yours
will never sing for me
i want to kiss your scars
and make you king
while my tired trembling mind will unravel them
one after the other
and let the Moon
in her magic and love
dress you in her finest garb
i want to feel you soar
my love
with wings of gods ascended to Heaven
and as my temple fades away into the caverns of the lost
in your cloak of scars i’ll lay
knowing that you are whole again
rain check
i saw the fruit meant to be eaten
and i turned away from it.
i could not endure opening my eyes
to what was before me.
the
hum of machines and
the slow burn of phantom progress.
the cat, she slowly walked on the
hot summer kitchen floors
licking her paws after a tuna dinner.
pills on the counter next to
the toast, i could not raise my hands
to lick.
Quietude
singing songs of other
tongues at different times
throughout the night helps
the sadness fly away
the fall and deepened groans
cradle my dimming light
nobody comes with ancient signs
for me to watch and the notes dissipate
I thought I saw your aura flow
down by the river in the night
the foggy morning confused my
eyes and I stood there stung
by the beauty left behind
the gentle sway of how you bent
the hearts of rhythm in the
moon so tender
clay smelled pure this morning
as it grabbed on to my shoes
the dog in me waggled a little
in my heart
lesson
i thought i saw a light in the blizzard
i thought i had walked up to it
i thought it let me in
i thought it was warm
i thought it took my pain
i thought it made me happy
i thought it wanted me
the way i thought i wanted it
i now know i was blind in the storm
i now know i was crippled too
i now know i had been standing outside
where the cold held me down
i now know the liquids in my veins
and how i had cried
and even though i cant want it any longer
it will still never want me
late at night
when the moths sleep
and the ants strategize
how to crumble a dead
water bug under the house
i wake up with fever.
the riveting white hot
hateful kind that doesn’t
let you sweat. my kidneys
brochette while my heart
slowly bakes and in a pang
of fear i think if i wait
will i live to the morning?
a war rages between heaven
and hell in a warning that
Einstein understood well
relativity unto death and life
the wormholes and quantum
so plainly in sight.
3:13 a.m.
so dimly you come. to
satiate my sole being with
liberty’s cry. but i wait
another season to trial
another pill in the angst
to chase life. a comfort
in theory, in practicum
a lie.
1.16
Henry i know you can see
me. in my rut i can feel the
blisters in my spirit swelling
up again. the prayers only
make it worse.
Henry how did you ever walk
from out of the doors into the
open air? where did you find
the time to convert misery
into diamonds?
it’s so so late in life but
i haven’t been born. the
many things inside of this
bone cage cannot easily come out,
Henry, why?
there is no sun and no moon
divine. the hours twirl and multiply
into clouds of nothing. buildings, caves,
the underpass dull with expression and
righteousness of self.
Henry i remain intact full of holes
with nothing but my germs and
dirty fingernails stuffed with
the scabs of days gone by.
addict
we wrestle in the tarriness
of a bottomless place
going deeper into what
has fallen in myself
you and i are twins of this pit
and the sun goes down
as ever
we walk and do not move
stare at the stars
and are not amazed
by wandering in the forbidden homes
we have touched
their roses; we have defiled
their souls
squeeze me as i gasp
and longing for you a long time ago
you were me
and now we don’t know each other
your eyes are big
but my eye is bigger
yet i cannot see
without you …
a wall to wail upon
time is deep into the night
i am alone as i like it.
about 20 feet away i hear my puppies
licking themselves.
a noise that keeps the monsters away
and lets me know
that i am thinking,
that i am alive,
that i am aware that
20 feet away is life.
goodnight Michael.
too bad i did not get to meet you in this plane.
i think initially we would not have liked each other,
then maybe i would have liked you a little,
then maybe you would probably have thought…
i was hysterical and crazy.
but maybe i would have been in
the pre-contemplation stage of maybe thinking
of liking you a little bit more than
the prior day.
but it doesn’t matter anymore,
does it Michael?
i will tell you a secret.
i went into the computer today
to hear your voice.
it was soft and friendly,
priestly at times.
it made me very sad.
as a matter of fact
i wasn’t sure what to expect.
you are smart.
you are far away.
you are in my walls,
etched in the clay of my skin.
unbeknownst to us both!
are your pictures your memories?
your newspaper lines,
your broken parts,
your Chinatowns,
all of those colorful delights?
i feel you at the base of my brain.
my heart is nauseous
knowing how you suffered.
my heart is very nauseous
knowing i cannot fix myself.
Michael i think you would have dismissed me.
i have two left feet
and could not have danced for you.
your memories your pretty dancers.
your pink pajamas hit me fucking hard.
you are unfair.
i never met you.
i never shook your flesh or looked you in your soul.
like men,
like cowboys and astronauts and Superman.
Michael in a most secret and non-sexual way
you have made me into a woman.
like a cure with no disease,
i continue to think like a man.
in my boxes,
and my pen,
and my quill,
and my colors,
and my spoons,
and all the steps
i have to take.
12 aren’t nearly enough while believing not in one,
but smiling so they can survive
through you.
Michael i have learned to communicate.
a lesser temple granting me what no one else could
grant me here on earth.
you saw it in my inner fears.
the deepest of my perils,
from the cave men to the banana men.
all of humanity beyond you were there imploring,
when i implored for my father
and you knew how i felt when i was 4.
discarded twisted teddy bears.
my menagerie of life.
how could you know how i felt?
i don’t understand Michael.
all of my gambles crystallized in one screen.
your words and your contract
gave me a wall to wail upon.
when no one else willingly accepts
what has been created of me.
for Mike Kelley
words less spoken 