i will love you always
and i'll love you in all ways
love you past what's allowed
despite what my past cries aloud
i believe i've lost control altogether
because you've captured my mind
and soul all together
you have the steering wheel
and the power to break
Homonym creation by son dark terror
Dark sun templar strides empty
He was born in the sewers
Preaching to orphans
Selling them drugs
Crash landing Foreign Exchange
Lawyer no habla ingles
Wife beating wincest victim/winner
Always liked the devil better
What you could not tell me;
as distinct as a infant's cry,
Had the torture within you
rattled the bars and forced
you to plead sweet ignorance?
Would you have understood
an alibi, had I delivered it
to you in homonyms?
Were we a pair, had we pared?
Or did one of us bite too harshly
on the pear?
Or would you continue with
me, the way you knew how...
artfully coy, and full of deception?
and then, I realized
I knew... had always known
and therein is the rub
that has left me bare, a bear,
a grizzly discovery.
a) i am the mortar incurring blow after blow
from the abrasive quality of your negligence.
no, i am herb between pestle and mortar
the full realization of 'rock and a hard place'
b) i am the mortar between each brick you lay,
in blue collar glory, or rock star slumming,
to bind shaky corridors of past serenity
and bear indiscretions on my limestone shoulders
c) i am the mortar you fire before crawling under covers
for inexpensive sex and trashier beer
by a lake on a camping trip where tents trump love
like the queen of spades in a hand of hearts
d) in fact, these are false, merely possibilities --
actuality: you were never enough
to make me spew homonyms in metaphor
because you were nothing like them,
always appearing changed but monotonous in meaning,
and if you're so into contraposition,
are we not but names for each other?
Hughes burned bodies and
the red lighter is a symbol for Tzara.
moons are arrogant leaf piles, all stuck up.
the man in the yellow coat is just.
when i died i still don't remember.
horizontal gym bags carry more than shoes.
The Colossus ate the other poems,
won't you believe me, i am the universe
you are too.
fist length is an awfully blue term.
reject synonyms without common names.
computer keys are of the sensible realm,
it's where the letters are that you want to find.
landscapes can be wind swept, with an allure
dancing alike and around for nights on end, even
when we have run out!
homonyms are just, and common.
the way a sentence is put together varies due to
our symbols having many faces.
articulations of sound impede even concrete
when a metaphysical question is on the other line.
much rather live in
Have you heard of the
gardens clandestines grow?
The neighbors have, although
until today the gardens were usual, not a
pastime no one would seriously guess.
The flowers are conceptual homonyms
bordered by Boxwood africans
no breadwinning cardinal would bless
with its roost.
Grass beneath a golden ninebark
is slightly depressed where some pistol was.
For the past few years the neighbors have wondered daily What the hell is it this guy does?
What, with him always vaguely mumbling "...lots of business trips." It's dark
now, blood spatter coagulates on the picket fence.
Four tire streaks on the road,
the responding policemen kept it hushed, speaking in code
to disembodied voices on a radio. Not much more than a glance
and shrug at the neighbors' concerned inquiries.
One consensus formed: he was deep
in consequences from promises he couldn't keep.
This was speculative, of course.
The palm trees
rustled above their heads. "Maybe he was a clandestine,"
one of the neighbors remarked
as another dismissively barked,
"Ridiculous! He kept a garden!"
Sober, or hungover
One or the other
I’ll take a stab at writing
Something that’s too good
Not to know
And I’ve heard “I don’t know”
This past month
I fee like am starting to
I know you have none of my answers
I know my questions have been spot on
I know my effort has been worthy
As much as you do
You were my darlin’ Queen, the star of the show
Now you are someone elses princess
But you are still my Queen
The Queen of “ I don’t know”
A leap of faith
Growth and Humility
Laughter and happiness
These are more than things I know
They are my unrewarded actions
Will my attraction
To you ever waver?
Will I ever return the favor?
Are we friends or does that even matter?
I wont ask these questions
Because I know the answer
And its not "no"
Homonym, not vernacular
Yes it is
Nonpartisan – Homologous—Munificent— in the first rains of this, our dismal season
The föhns and boras come in fresh from off the Mediterranean (which is far away from anywhere like here)
In a dream I am licking Juliann Moore’s asshole
Darnell eats a Snickers bar and nips his fingers with each & every bite
Jazz June vestiges
Philistines and sickly wombs
Tawpies with tawdry taste
Blooded tumid with hate
For the goopy lunks they put on
Feckless junkie ilk inveigled
Et al in the favor of curried filth
Ad nauseam - ad homonym
The speaker bloviates his demurrals
From stem to stern like a Southern Baptist minister
Witnessing to a hungered, rapacious Bible belt
He maunders on with verbs and pronouns
He luxuriates in his sorrows remarkably
Spatting with some illusory force
About a list of deferential demands
Punctuated in jags of doleful reticence
And in all of his junked up drear, just there:
A real highway shoulder showman unfurls
An agnate of the American dream
With all the self-reproach of suicides
He has left an indelible mark on me—what, I don’t quite know
But this is when I reach into my front left pocket and remember:
“Whenever they bare their teeth—you best just give up your neck;
It’s much less painful that way.”
Burn holes in the bed sheets
Beethoven, this is the state of Israel.
“Extinguished and burnt out--
Like the fire left to smolder in the dismal meadow.”
Now and then I think of you,
That soft smile you left me with.
Now and then, I wish I could
Say that it's okay, I understand,
That if you have to go,
Believe me that nobody
The way that I can.
I knew I should beware of you,
This illusory complex that I wanted to be you.
And, still, when you knocked upon my door,
I answered your call.
But sunny days will always set, my dear,
I just didn’t know that
You’d make always come so soon.
Blame it on that sunny afternoon,
But I did, and maybe still do…
I really used to believe in you.
But it seems like this forgiveness
Is about faith, and knowledge,
And knowing when you’re too far behind,
And when to let go,
And how to make the best of a cliff
That may take a decade to climb.
Yes, I think it’s about
And you and me,
And how to be free,
And cutting you off
Like a hundred-year-old tree.
Now and then, you’re on my mind;
The things you said
Were only my religion, my life,
But now and then I remember:
That it’s not about who you let your guard down to,
But why you became so vulnerable in the first place.
All the same, despite my campaign,
Some things just remain
Burned into your memory.
Like two words the same but worlds apart-
Your memory is a homonym of my very own heart.
But it’s okay, I understand,
My will is not your will, just
Rest assured that I will always
Love you like nobody will.
Now and then, I feel like a fool.
These letters and boxes of what once was
Seem so dark and deceiving,
And now and then I wonder how long
It would take to make them full again.
But it’s okay, I understand.
There’s no use in pretending
That this grey cloud’s not looming;
Maybe someday it won’t rain.
But, now and then,
I’ve got to pay,
Because you’re gone,
And that’s the way it will stay.