hi
my name is
littlredwritinghood
and i am working a shitty job
so i can buy
an xbox this summer
so i can maybe smile
before august
what the hell
just trying to
up my chances
didn’t cry at the funeral
didn’t cry when the meteor hit & wiped out my beloved Brontosaurus
didn’t cry when the ash of New York shrouded the half-mast flags
like the bandanas Syrians wrap around their mouths to celebrate
their own blood-spattered independence
didn’t cry when I got my period
when I remembered the first time I kissed a guy
he called me flat chested
told everyone my braces tasted like rotten apples
& I flopped my tongue on his like a slug
the first time he wheezed like asthma
& his skin turned yellow
& we knew it was over
or I remembered Pepper’s death
stiff, black, glaucoma, all out of barks
(I’m all in & right back out again)
didn’t sob when I found out that molestation runs in families
or that cats hate toasters in water
or that I fucking hate jelly but I ordered the special, bit in
& it stained my Keds
or that God hates most women
& so do most men
didn’t cry when I got my first or seventieth rejection letter
didn’t make a sound when I saw the faceless ball of energy float across the kitchen
& try to rip my tongue out when I opened my mouth &
breathed for the first time since August
&what a great imagination she has!
I want to rip my hair out
dance on a bed of nails while five thousand demons
shoot acid charged needles into my spinal cord
nail my hands to hot coals
cut off my eyelids
feed me tubs full of sleeping pills
eat spoonfuls of rainbows in front of me
while telling me I’ll never be an astronaut
licking the purple off their fingers to tacitly remark
you’re too scared of heights!
let go & let God they said
but I also heard
God hates vaginas & crybabies & two’s gotta be bad
wound so tightly in a barrel of armor
every time I tremble I retreat to a seventy foot snow castle
with a prince spoon feeding me rainbows
so high in that balcony
light as our plans & lit with vivid conceptions
that I pulled right out of my head
I walked right into the sidewalk
stubbed my toe & balled my stoic little eyeballs out
for five fucking hours
plainly inconsolable
she’s so *brilliantly theatrical!
racing the streets with my hand on my chest
the persistent why bleating from my histrionic hissy fit lips
hair disheveled & inexplicably soaked in sweat
dots of black tar covering my freckles
I taste snot & beads of total humiliation
a look on my face like I was responsible
for every starving orphan in Darfur
every crushed mantis
every prehistoric fossil
every fried brain cell in his tossed out head
I had written My Brother is Dead in the back of a notebook
that I never read or glanced at again
I stood tall in the wake
pigeons perched on my biceps
she’s as still as deep waters!
today I was a reckless witch who just flew off the handle
who just stood at the barrier in bloody coral platforms
like an oppositional two year old who can’t find Waldo
in a dress on a street in the spring in a city
in a bruised way that makes me look so much like you
in your swimming trunks when you hit your forehead on the edge of the ladder
& it hit me harder than that slab of concrete
a car backfires in the distance & so does every fucking other thing
that person-hating God winks & it feels like rain on a little fucking parade
so this is the climate of never gonna happen & it seems
(it’s hot & muggy & full of gray)
like I’ve been this way forever
she is having the best day ever!
Apparently looking north
Brings out the beauty in the beautiful
and hand shaped states
are worth laughing over
These are things that you taught me
in a minute's conversation
or was it an evening?
The one where you called me "Chauffeur"
I've done the math
that I will never tell
learned a few secrets
like how you can't spell
but there's nothing wrong with phonetics
because our messages are not lost in translation
What are the semiotics of the color purple?
The point in wearing white pants?
Of not telling me where we're going
When you are making plans?
Life is no longer so elegantly planned out
and, for that, I am grateful
and as long as you don't forget me by tomorrow
and despite 4 digits separating us
Looking towards August as made me faithful
Up their lawn chairs and cheap beer,
Chardonnay in a cheap tea cup set,
cucumber sandwiches.
The Neighbors keep notepads, budgeting information,
three year old, unfulfilled christmas lists.
Car insurance.
The Neighbors keep mental notes of certain circumstances,
of college dropouts, minimum wage,
a broken fan blade in August.
The Neighbors see their teenager as a pink plus sign.
The Neighbors hop into polaroids in their spare time,
open closed boxes in the attic.
The Neighbor's dog has fleas.
The Neighbor's husband has ticks,
chicks back at the office if you know what I mean.
The Neighbors have a a gambling addiction, love Pall Malls, smoking, smoke shops,
porn.
The Neighbors forget to kiss.
The Neighbors are drinking the same brand of beer I bought
last night.
We drink it on our front porches and watch each other.
.
slumbered in cold shadows by the lake
murders the darker side of pain
Is truth of center gained in aging years
My blood, food for my gun's allegiance
Earth becomes immersed in dance
She dances 'round the scholars like bees to flowers
pleading her case as bare ardor dons the bawler
My body be a temple seized
her eyes massage the scene with such finesse
Earth's veil opens to a heart attacked
in the last dissolving reflection of the moon
it's as if her soul had a dress to dance in
skinned faceless with a name of no mention
under the caress of the silken swell
Mary ambled to a moonlit pane
where their bloodied foreheads thrilled a bell
my hallowed atonement in small galleries of blood
My friend with moods of thunder burns a rose
plastered on swords with aggression
whilst inside the bosom of the angels
through the climax of murder's foreplay
bedight in lace and leather dress
Am I the one who seeds her dreams
Loaning warmth and passage through your doors
This mind will shelf its angst and start a bleed
How certain could I be in moods so dark
Dying in a bucket of tears and unlicked sores
like the silken blouse that clings to your wet body in the rain
amongst the shaded shroud of the evergreen
Reluctantly, my face performs a smile
In the days of kings and tyrannicide
propped upon tips of brittle grass
Our cling to peace breaks hearts in height of war
I have dreamed the death that half-dead men did dread
Transcending the ease of a loathsome self-indulgence
my bruised cage confines a wretch
to wallow a maelstrom of receding dawns
Her smile decorates her Angel stare
not knowing, yet, that triumphs would be scarce
within the taxing haunt of my cured tears
to kiss away their powdered faces
and whither thee unto a dreary trend
by monsters married to their lunacy
that crowds the minds of these jesters, three!
Undaunted charity heeds the frail assembly
lull the rest of tender essence
posh beauties of blissful foreplay!
a scent of J. M. Farina lingering with hint of peach
that knew too well the vacuum in no remorse
private parts were raped with moonshine
Surmise thy purposed scorn, thus now imbued
bounding just above a fervid foe that worsens
echoing through planks of thirsty fir and pine
Mind the silent menace taking drink alone
These knees will beg your softest kiss today
My anxious mind is vexed to wayward fate
In the glowing pulse of candle's light
breathing and inhaling love on each other's scent
in your bruised and broken birthday suit
receiving her fifty-fist first kiss
blueprints my fondness unassisted
crippling vigor for this wearer
to reign in on a howl of a Lycan
Dew twinkling on Plum and Poplar
frost-bombing my numbing tongue
her chest heaves a rousing patina
wherein my prowess evades an ego
while yielding a martyr's nerve
haloed in league of thorn and a devil's tide
in the name of God and his flawless house
through a prayer to that sting of ocean air
mid the spray of salt and squeak of kittiwake
Pebbles pinball down the gauntlet of jagged chert
whilst the battle of balance and cowardice compete
Wet winged on a perched bluff in a waning gibbous
climaxing in a ray's parade of our star's retreat
This regime, built from boats of souls
balled up in poisoned chambers
With some sleep and sharpened moxie
though ageless eyes mind wonderment and pleas
where breezes sip upon that tendered flesh
this love regards an angel, now a muse
Take heed the throng of rebel fiends, bewinged!
Though, Ishtar goads the Angel league with wrath
I seeded many womb and belly, panged
When war with man exacts the Earth, bestowed!
the taxing onus to collapse the pawn
wasted in the cease of a lifeless morrow
fickle in the guise of juvenile stares
quit the unfed belly of my greed!
at your flawless sterling step
Never give me crushed farewell
I am no worthy an insolent mess than the skin I'm not fit to live in!
birthed from the touched tongue of the poor
releasing rage to your earthen stage
as she burned in my brain inside electric veins
watching you slip, calmly, in and out of bullied wakes
And dawn became the night and surely to a dawn again
Will press my ear to winds and eyes bedewed
In where seditious tongues of others tax
Belligerent in their counter sass
And what to deeds are our futures breached
Dost by the hand of a heathen's bidding
Your speech succeeds your lies that stumble on
Where plenty swads of berries fill a fawn
As friend to none, but to her heart received!
Ten toes claw the vitreous strand and jetsam near a firth
wherein a caddish guise feigns the propensity of a dotard
fraught with wayward bouts of coprophagy and garroted rape
kissed the servile rainbow of tumbling polished sea glass
to come hither, breaking free of my nightmare's architect
Fortnight, in the throe and rue of my brutal dolor
Mine eyes drown in a copious gore of crimsoned cruors
My disheveled locks lay and lean upon a batholith leeward
Wherein does the weregild serve me mindful menace?
pirated from the lifeless heels of an august costermonger!
he unburdened his broken skull in a humbled bow
recorded in the defunct masks of brats and bitches
citizens plagued betwixt states of Cholera and hate contend to play hero
whilst insects graze inside my anus
for the weak, there's the wicked that never fairs remorse!
renting the roost of my own lethargic atrophy
that tallied the roster of all this lawlessness?
with eyes cresting to see the whites
soaked in waxy gore and semen
that only the songs from a meadow knows
through the bubbling rumble of the meadow
where shadows fall and doze
but the swell of fell tongues feign
but to marry unwise to marry a fool?
which doth not cage purity
Find me viewing up to a thunder's roar
and equip the mauler to bash the beggar!
Flies line my waist, a belt alive
at midnight I'll be silhouetted as I'm hung
My soul, bewinged, will part the clouds
My soul is the blood that bleeds the leech.
Those words of yours that warm within like wine
Can pirate wild hearts that bound and sail
Poetic justice wakens those it must!
in the lament of wayworn heroes to appease
offending mice and mind in Choleric dismay
Who walks the wicked walk, down today, unchanged; unchained?
Who resides, forthright, with delight by the wayside?
a kelpie bedight in magic rescues the daydream
For the willed and driven dilettantes
-Mark Lach
.
Behold a most gracious host,
carmine and perse with an eburnean ringed hue,
yielding a formidable specter from a Waxing Gibbous.
In the umbra of an ominous shadow,
discerning a medley of nefarious burdens,
the flux of paranoia surging is boundless.
A burlap satchel clutched tight and hitched;
inside, a trephine, alms, scalpel, and an old umber stethoscope
accompanies a wayworn tosspot on this audacious saunter.
Ten toes claw the vitreous strand and jetsam near a firth
where squeak the cries of Junco, Osprey, and Skua fraught with mirth
in the sun's gloaming tincture of indigo, and bilious luster.
Dost not covet the charade of my transient liberty,
wherein a caddish guise feigns the propensity of a dotard
fraught with wayward bouts of coprophagy and garroted rape.
Fortnight, in the throe and rue of my brutal dolor,
the vapid torpor of my abject existence
morphed me to thole a choleric umbrage,
heeding the volition of my demons to leave my faculties agape?
The cresting salty crashes of the hematic-toned perigean tide
kissed the servile rainbow of tumbling polished sea glass.
How fortunate the timing to view such a heavenly lull?
The ochre whitlow of my decaying digits
make a laborious task to turn up my cravat and russet shawl collar,
limiting agile function to torment, plague or meddle!
I heard the caws from a murder of nineteen devilish crows
mocking the gallows's smother of my departing snicker,
to come hither, breaking free of my nightmare's architect.
Aptly, I rest many a wearied bone down
within the harbor of a dank mossy dingle,
wroth with emotion, despising an empathy shipwrecked.
Mine eyes drown in a copious gore of crimsoned cruors,
becoming lost in the brew of surf and coral,
whilst an arresting glare kindles the expanse from a Luciferian moon.
My disheveled locks lay and lean upon a batholith leeward,
quenching my barren lips with moonshine by an ewer
in the presence of a phantasm on the strand shaded puccoon.
I bid a jealous farewell in a somber gesture of brow and feral self.
Wherein does the weregild serve me mindful menace?
Wherein dost I abjure the rascal and nevermore suffer woe?
Bordering the strand, farm posts bear the burden of my weight;
feet shuffling, throat tender, these hands are scorched
upon the stinging pricks of the barb-wired hedgerow.
With a savvy wariness and an eerily daunting instinct,
I lose hold my newly procured Budapester shoes
pirated from the lifeless heels of an august costermonger!
Flashes of me hung constricting, cultivating my end attrition
in the gibbet with a barrage of fired sparklers,
that recalls the memory of my mate's torture, now stronger.
Disrobed and chained to iron ringlets fused to a crag,
he screamed for his kin who turned him in;
he unburdened his broken skull in a humbled bow.
Dentigerous hounds drew taut the ropes that bound his ankles,
lifting, stretching his skeleton lateral to the loam.
He wished, tearing at air, he now reached the day of Eschaton
………. not in the morrow!
Branding, burning, two days on a crude Judas cradle,
prior to his gauntly sallow frame being dragged to neap tide,
they keelhauled him four fathoms down, rode belayed on two rusty tholes.
My soul grieved, unhinged and shot into earthen clay;
I embraced in a free soliloquy and a ruing barter
with a throng of wishes soaring on the song of distant souls.
His fragmented corpse, ravaged, broken asunder in unkempt bedlam,
exists stained and caustic affixed to a broad puce vile rock.
Vultures feed there at the fringe of a seraphic moonbow.
In lieu of my heretic dogma to natural law,
recorded in the defunct masks of brats and bitches,
citizens plagued betwixt states of Cholera and hate contend to play hero.
An evident tone of a distant horse's canter
reverberates and startles a most guilty reproach,
suspending my facile tenure amid a truant absconding!
Chiming bangs of metal hames and whirling spurs
close in, sounding off in ascending levels of intonation,
a huntsman's ride on this dusty trail to an ambling.
The blunders of my past arrest and botched trip to gallows,
one that sent me to a rickety upright-jerker,
minds me thrice, since youth, this world's mad with bestial rage!
A sad reflection, the sight of my mom in chains,
takes me back to a miser's filthy life sustained.
End this, huntsman in mine eyes forlorn …… never to be upstaged!
My resin-greased necktie composed of fetid hemp rope,
bore the load of jolting deadweight, one furlong through pasture,
adorned with sparse bramble, bucolic beasts, and two avid vultures.
Three figures of crazed stoicism wielding tools for the tillage,
low in rank like their guest to be,
stood imposing in a vesture of ordure, pitiful in stature.
Thrown in a heap of flies, swath and pig feces,
my left ear severed expelling Mazarine colored blood,
with a frayed lariat used to enthrall the squalid hellions.
Was it for the madness my heart reached out
onto the strand with toes clutching at sea glass
that relished the freedom of a Dark-eyed Junco's minions?
Propped and posed erect in a hollowed post,
I'm fed honey and milk with my limbs exposed,
whilst insects graze inside my anus.
Slip surely and thirsty; shed the illusion of life's rapport,
dressing down the native's loathsome frowns,
whereupon, with my own scalpel, I'm rendered toeless.
Almost one day passed in the dizzy hissing shell of my head.
A voice creeping, soothing pain whilst I tread in absentia;
the imp punctures my fleshy canvas, tapping thick blood from all bruises.
This torture, unnatural, undeserving of such the wrath,
dreaming, spinning as the fiends prepare my bath
in a copper apple kettle pot possessing many uses!
My mottled mask pressed into bent blades of grass,
nails ripping muddied dirt as devils favor their cuts of meat,
showing no pity in chaos to a groveling main course!
Savages of Hell, Alas!
Amateur cuts to my joints with knives and chipped cleavers,
searing slices and torn tendons from bones………..
for the weak, there's the wicked that never fairs remorse!
-Mark Lach
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPiBeIXW1-w
.
the boiled earth bawls
and sings of crickets by night
a morrow rouge wanes
envelope the sweetened breeze
to mind and revel gaily
bright Waxing Gibbous
gleams a cerise ringed tincture
angelic landscape
arresting of what enchants
cede faith in elated awe
desert sandy shores
and part from rolling thunders
turning up collars
in abundance fair harvest
the smiles so copious
electric plumage
though goodbye is fickle cause
watch tree star ballets
the chilled air weakens my knees
and implores fetching romance
merriment is had
when holiday warms her heart
and tawny leaves daze
cooked pumpkin roasts off sweet scent
to kiss, to cherish kindred
Illusion love spell
raptures advents cordially
nursed in august zeal
hickory pyres seed lust
in lofty blankets of fog
vivid colors fade
turning my numb mask leeward
polished by sleet wind
a bluster to muster in
exposed in wake of wolf moon
crackled Sycamore
paints a glow o'er frosted loam
to wake at Spring's lead
carefully a puff of steam
gently mingles with the air
suspended betwixt
snow's retreat and hearth stuffed shut
dreams of tilling field
a stretch to ward off shivers
a sigh so deep conveys haste
downy clouds dissolve
and raise spirits with fervor
and wings of new birds
sitting atop the Bluebells
Hawfinch in full song of Spring
-Mark Lach
i pray in time, friend,
that this you understand,
that it has to be my sweetest displeasure
and yet my most unjust liberty
to tell you that every quiet passing
along a young and hopeful causeway
was almost gladly spent finding,
some how or another . . .
every day new to discover you over and again,
so to drink in with haste the strange august nectar
and draw into my lungs the sovereign aura
that drift from your autumn eyes.
how to hold and to press gently your hands
just a moment more between mine in a way
that kisses with, in consummate balance,
a firm allowance and a free imperative.
how to mold, to sculpt, to shape
my habitual pining over your subtle forms
into an simple, ever green, professant blessing
a splendid, deep down, ours religion.
how to capture your innocent stargaze
in the longing embrace of my own
so that for one moment so perfectly brief
we were one great blossoming cosmos.
how to be one who aligns our beating royal suns
who calms our winters and ignites our summers
who dances and dies in the storms and the fires
that splash from your glimmering eyes.
how to be whom you adore until the requiem day
when our confessional breasts swell and crash in the cascading sand
to the sonorous beat of a final splendid rapturous breathtaking harmonious
Yes.
as fury and ecstasy ripple and bound
in our lush fantastical burial ground.
as our progenies daydream of kingdoms to come
and sing with an amorous hymn on their tongues.
yes, and so it has been now for days and for tides
that my latent creations in whatever measures
those passions, when sparked and then quenched in an instant
are no more or less than my sweetest displeasures.
Defined August, it fades away in a haze
Quickly, running through seasons.
We're suddenly hit by a wave of sore cold
Just enough to show ripen blood upon frozen skin
Without one wearing fine cloth against iced flesh.
One day should you forget in a rush
Or maybe your feet have dragged on too long by then
Of what winter really means
Should you be cursed by Jack Frost?
He does not nip lightly for you
Nor does he for anyone of the sort
Possibly, one could befriend such a harsh element
From summer heat to bleak winter
The seasons change too fast for average beings
Though maybe you could obtain the tie to a blizzard
So when you ask it,
it shall respond.
In which your response should be glee
As for once, it has listened and watched over you.
i tried to spend time with you inside my head
because i'm not important enough for you to give up a lunch break for
or to sleep beside on a 2 o'clock august afternoon as you make the light shine through my bedroom window.
brown was never my favorite color, until i saw your eyes through my tears.
you think it's romantic to fuck the girl that writes poetry about you.
the first time we slept together you took your underwear off first.
and kissed my forehead and told me you loved me.
i'm asked why i don't leave you
and i say i live in a house with too many rooms.
that i want everything to happen to me as it happens.
i think you have the most beautiful mind
you're the type of person that people write songs about
and stay up all night crying over
praying to their imaginary friend for the pain to stop.
