Waking, pale sun burning away the smoky remnants of my dreams of you.
These memories of delightful daydreams.
I create a universe where your spine is steel and our love is a featherbed in a castle.
Our heat fills the cold stones
as greyhounds and bulldogs share the halls with young boys laughter and the smells of tea and toast.
I know you devour me while I sleep
the same way I consume you while you bathe,
soaking up every fold and freckle,
memorizing every precious contour.
Waking, your pale skin burning away
shadows of the past,
my strong hands rest on
your waiting hips.
The boys and dogs come tumbling into our morning oasis with bony little elbows and bad breath and laughter like heavens manna.
This is my now.
You are my forever.
We are eternal.
--you pushed me over.
your hands collided with
my shoulders, firm,
and I fell in to the pond.
all around me I felt but muck
murk and mud
my hands searched for solidity,
and only found solitude
coiled inside the russet.
frantic I searched for something to hold
maybe, your hand,
but nothing came to me.
water burnt my throat as it
forced its way through my nose.
as If I’d shattered the sun,
all around me,
colors and flashes of light captured my vision
and stars, in the hundreds, thousands,
overtook my eyes.
they were quick to move to my fingers.
my hands erupted in a light that I could not comprehend
as my skin shattered like glass
as horrible as it sounds,
it felt like lying in a downy featherbed.
a mattress under ten feet of the worlds’ finest pillows.
Lennon told me Paul was strawberry
George reminded me love trumps lord
Overboard overcome overwrought
Flower child fishtailed dovelike all aboard
Get yourself together
Like joint dance banners painted to promote teenage bondage to youth
Tied us into our best days ahead of us
Chained to our balls we swung like gamers
Untied to our integrity
Wrecking wreaking havoc
Ballooned on hubris
Hemorrhaging ego unlocked spewing spite
I respect good works deeds above good intentions
Road paved with broken glass
Don’t respect me when I’m gone
Tell the folks it’s OK to sing along
Let’s spend the night together
Talk all night in the altogether
Rather gather in clover and heather
Happy Ringo’s nest a featherbed
Laying lady laid cunning linguist
‘xplain to me in chiefly straight talk
Who questions whom?
I too will die, my dear,
My ashes sifted into sand.
I'll not always be around to hear
The sobbing of the damned.
Am I one of them or am I me?
Flawed, fleeing, fickle, feigned.
Am I what I'm s'posed to be,
Or am I just insane?
For if I tell truth just as it is
I love the dirt that parts my lips.
It settles in my eyelashes
It stays around, it sticks.
Buried by the teaspoonful
I've lain here all these years.
I've sung my songs to ghostly throngs
And none have reached their ears.
I love the way the soil feels
Just like a featherbed.
I love running my cold fingers through,
Since it's been lavished on the dead.
For death's a thing to be enjoyed
And all existence to be savored.
Whatever it was that put me here
Was doing me a favor.
To die feels like a Sunday morning-
Nowhere to go and nothing to do.
I hardly heed my lovers' warnings
For they are down here too.
To be here feels like restful sleep,
A warm dark quiet sanctuary
Where all my thoughts are mine to keep
And where my screams won't carry.
You may shame me for my wretchedness,
You won't be first or last, of many,
But none of you will ever guess
That I don't want you to save me.
I know what suffering is, my friend,
It was my first pale memory.
And realizing that life could end?
It didn't scare me any.
My childhood friends were far from gay-
Ashes like snow on country towns,
Who's falling on our heads today?
Whose ashes drift the ground?
Forgive me if I love a grave
When I know there's so much worse out there.
The one thing I never forgave
Was choosing not to care.
Although my heart has long since ceased
Its wild silly frantic beating,
My love has, to be frank, increased,
And oh, from love I like a beating.
Away down here beneath the ground,
I find the coldest of the dead,
And I breathe life into their mouths
And their hungry souls are never fed.
I crawl right in beside them
And they demand more than I've got.
I give to them until it hurts
But when I've left, they have forgot.
I've never been a bright new soul,
I've never got more than I gave.
I suppose all that should take a toll...
Oh, but I do love a grave.
Drunken and wide-eyed,
In the cold cement alley,
Upon tremulous heads,
We seek the treasure.
It must have been love,
That threw kings down the walls,
Pleasure stains on their palms,
We seek the treasure.
Freckled cheeks crumple from the flesh
Disinclined to open,
Clouds of cotton,
And a dash of formaldehyde
Decomposing in coat pockets,
We seek the treasure.