The Minutes pass me by
disdainful of my wailing.
They don't bother helping;
they don't stick around for that matter.
With only sixty seconds to exist,
I must be of no concern to them.
The Hours' fists crash into my skull
creating a constant clangor resonating through my brain
exciting my ego,
Oh those god-damned Days.
They see me confused and so seize their chance;
they pull out my feet
right from under my frame,
and helpless, hurt,
I collapse to the earth.
And now begins their fun.
The Months form gangs called 'Years'
and The Years take their turn
breaking my joints, my fingers, my knees,
all my snappable, crackable points.
Curved, crippled, and creaking,
I languish in fantasies of what's supposed to be.
Time makes things worse.
A dark shadow moves over me.
I look up as far as I can lift my heavy head
and like a fat man coming to rest on an ant's back,
I see The Decades with their massive, soul crushing weight
squatting their hindquarters;
down upon my twig-like spine.
This is a merciless beating!
This is the beat of time.
And throughout the abuse,
I crawl, cringe, cower
as safe as can be in a low lying state on the ground,
(which is still six feet too high for all that time cares!)
I hear from somewhere afar
an unfaltering decree
from my maker to me
"Stand up straight! For Heaven's sake!"
there is poetry in dirt
in greens, in beets,
especially in rutabagas.
you are a symphony of compost
with which an old man’s teeth are smitten;
Rosemary sprig, beneath all your flavor
you are the staff-lines of a madrigal written
in loving anticipation of the mason jars, weighed down with water
where you will grow and swell and bud and spread out strong purple flowers which say
that you are part of a song which sings
a little louder.
This coming September, I will miss you dearly.
I will be days of travel away from your roots, your mist,
your six-in-the-morning-before-classes tonic of rain
which saturates my skin so good I’m surprised when I shake the dirt from the leeks
all over my bare feet & you don’t crop up green & white from between my toes,
that my arms don’t grow heavy with peppers
after they cake with jalapeno & bell seeds from all the half-rotten
to whom I have given baptism to in shallow plastic tubs of water
floating like elations of fire
in the grayness of the morning.
Know how to tell if a pepper’s rotten? Wash it & shake it
& if you can hear the water swishing inside,
if you can make a maraca of its innards,
then give it back to the dirt.
This is the wisdom of peppers:
when you grow soft
when you have been chosen
& thoroughly loved
when you have called out like fire
beside your brothers in a basin,
lay down in the compost
the kindly compost,
& listen, just listen,
(there will be nothing left to do
to the poetry of dirt.
The Strange One
A boy asked God for a blue sky one night. Only the moon shone. The next day he felt lonely and disappointed. So he took his father's broken phone and tried to call God, nobody answered. So he went to play, when he went to put the broken phone back where it was he saw a text message which read: "Last week I gave you red sunset but you were sleeping. Last month I sent you a blue sky but you were watching television. Yesterday I tried to talk to you but you were listening to music. I had sent a bird to sing you the loveliest song but you were busy caught up in music and missed my orchestral fusion. Right now you are aspiring to be the heights of the infinite horizons, the beauty and depth of the seas. But what you miss is that refuge begins at heart's delight and at home with your family is the place right."
The boy quickly rushed to show his father but then the phone switched off. His parents didn't believe him. He was scolded and told to go to his room... 45 minutes later he saw a blue sky and a hollow opening with red and yellow bright streams... After this awe, stars were aligned in a way that showed pictures, the boy could see distant suns dancing in one motion. What followed was a thunder and whirlwind which brought music unimaginable, see this music he didn't hear with his ears, but the energy field which is his mind and by his crystalline-light-glass soul body . The boy grew up and became a healer and fortune teller and brought much happiness to his community.
I thought to those hands that draw my strings
why do ghosts only haunt the living?
Fear slithers down from the stains on my ceiling
coiling thickly around my throat
dripping feted sweat
from the tips of its' fangs
“To Spur You To Run”
so down the darkened hallways and
out to the dirty
downtown streets I flew
skittering fitfully between the alleys
for risk of being seen
before slipping into that same empty bar
me oh my, what dim corners you have
ducking onto that same crooked confessional
oh great bartend, what clouded eyes you have
where I am promptly handed
my glass of Sorrow
deliver me from evil
atop a napkin wrote with print
“All The Better To Drown You With.”
it seems I have forgotten
if this sip or the last
was bitter or sweet
but it burns my eyes
twists my ribs, thickens the wind
and in the moment I see that face
out beyond the foamy waves
that shore upon the dregs
oh hallowed face of Judgement,
it seems blackened ivy has taken root
around your eyes
"I Tip Your Service With A Nod"
every block that I stumble by
orange streetlight onto the sidewalk
which whetted feet find liquor slick
thus put nose to grindstone, idiom or no
I hear the whispered Fury
when I fall down far enough
when my ear is planted to the earth
addressing me curtly
burning up through the asphalt
and stretching uncomfortably underneath my fingers
she lifts me screaming from the molten gutter
"To Hell With Forgiveness"
I find none other than Passion
standing under a spotlight
always dreamed of becoming a star
on the next street corner
you burned out far below the heavens of the hollywood highrise
she beckons me over with knowing gestures
but you still wound up center stage
“I Am Cheap and Love is Dead
Buried With All The Other Fairy Tales”
to which I respond
“We Must Make Due.”
She came and left swiftly
departing with the last of the warmth
in this empty room
douses candles in gasoline
burning half as long but twice as bright
after which I rose and went to my window
ans listened to the chirps of Melancholy
singing of sin.
Copyright ©2010-2013 Sean Winslow All Rights Reserved
Dam I need a blunt,
can't put up with this cunt,
I'm fealin a new person
My heart just feals like cursin...
I've bin hear,
in this new home,
sober a new rome,
If i had my shear bong
you'd sure would hear a cheer song.
I'd feal you out so happy,
have my words churned out to sappy?.
I'm way out,
I'm not burned,
I get it I sure learned
far out mars rover,
spot me out like your'e lucky clover,
out in a big croud
I'm rare like a drout cloud,
like I said,
I miss my bed,
eatin all day,
freakin all may,
Give it a doobie a precious fuckin ruby
Not lit Not fit
How bout a bubble and a bowl,?
no trouble nore parol,
you know i'm slick won't get in no shit,
just help a nigga out and blow me a hit.
I love my jane we plan to mary
when she's gone my world gets scary..
So be it if i'm sketchy,
I'm posted monalisa ,
see me on the wall,
touch me and I'll fall,
trust I see it all,
you walk right out the door and leave me on this floor,
I've seen it as it's low thats why I tend to flow,
Best of what I know is what minds like to show..
don't come back that lock is latched,
holdin steady bit attatched,
I need a hook to hold me steady.
some one strong that will be ready,
Every time it rains
I close my eyes and release a prayer. . .
The colossal gray sky
And the living breeze
Gather my poignant thoughts
While I stand overwhelmed by it all.
Hoping once again -
Like one reckless to believe
That wishes come true -
The wind will stop your breath
And you will look out
If only for a moment
At the sky weeping in earnest
And hear a sudden whisper in the rain
Blowing like a dirge, crying
I love you
If you weren't you and u wasn't me...
Some way some how this could be...
That what ever us missing must be the key...
Lost in that one summer of glee...
What once was passion turned to misery...
No more us, there was no more we...
Lived through spite and hypocrisy...
Every now and then I wonder how could this be...
I lost the person I was once before, but not anymore you see...
So hear my plea...
I apologize in advance but I must go off in search of me...
Like rosemary twigs, and lavender leaves,
The loss that tore my heart open today,
Chews at my body and mind.
In my stomach I feel an aching from the emptiness therein.
Excitement is low, and I can’t hear the beating of my heart.
That organ seems so quiet and careful,
That I wonder if it’s my heart keeping me alive
Or just some force of the universe or my will.
At times my mind seems like rice paper,
An empty sheet of white with no words written on to tell a story.
At others, my thoughts drift backwards in time,
Wishing that all the moments before would still be alive for later.
I always thought mouths were for kissing, smiling, and laughing.
Isn’t that a beautiful fiction?
But it is not a hundred miles close to the truth.
Yes, mouths do kiss, and smile, and evoke laughter,
But the movements of the lips are also quick,
Like the strike of a snake.
These mouths spread talk and venomous gossip,
One to another,
Like an apocalyptic plague that brings to all fever and vomiting.
Wouldn't the world be as perfect as an ivory-bell-flower?
If there was no heart break, gossip, or endings.
Here I sit now,
Sitting on my knees with my hands resting on my legs,
And my back arched forward,
Like a monk in meditation.
The rosemary and lavender is growing all over me,
Transforming my body into a scented orb of green.
She said, "You make me feel like I'm in the wrong skin."
And as he sat there in contemplation of this newest revelation
She told him about Thursday
And how he'd kissed her that way
And how it made her feel whole
As if they were one being meant to be
Joined at the mouth,
But had snapped apart and were together
She told him about the way her heart
Raced with anxiety
And her fingers shook every day
But when he kissed her everything went numb
And her brain thought slowly
And the world kept turning
And she wasn't afraid it would stop anymore
Finally, she told him about the skin
She told him that being away from him
Made her snap back to reality
But she had finally tasted happiness
And her old reality felt all wrong
She felt all wrong without him
She asked him if he loved her
She couldn't bear to leave him
He didn't hear a word
"But your skin is so beautiful."
And he leaned in and kissed her.
Searching through his bloodied clothes.
Searching for what is left.
With the rage, I cut into his chest.
I want his heart, for safety and comfort.
I rip it out and cradle it
I want it for others but I shall never reveal them now.
I love very bit of this heart.
You say I am a beast?
Look at you, I know you have done sins.
I am a dark being.
I love the screams and moans of pain and lust.
I just don't know what happened to that little girl you had once seen.
Now crying and imbalanced.
I have made a doll.
It has the heart that I cradled.
It looks just like him.
He talks to me.
Calls me "Little Dove"
At night 'he' comes alive and kisses me with those sharp teeth.
Killing me with his poisoned kiss.
That wretched smile drives me insane.
His a demon, bursting out if my chest.
Putting his bloody doll like hand on my pale white cheek.
I am paralyzed in time.
I love him ever so.
He says to me that me can make me a world of blood.
He makes me dream of haunted things.
Wounds, stitches, knives and more lovely,
I am happy that he can make my world come true.
I love that I am crazy, because he makes me feel better.
I love you, demon of my dreams.
He has left me.
Without no warning,
just left me in this tattered white dress stained with our blood.
He said he will come back.
He never returned.
I still hear his demotic voice at night yearning for his kiss.
Wanting to feel his warm body against mine.
Feeling his doll-ish hand caressing my body.
I awaken to a ear wrenching noise.
I found him dying on the ground
He said he loved this dark and damned side of me,
and to let go of this love that we had.
I went to the window and started sobbing.
Harder and harder.
No tears slid down my face.
I saw what he was dying for.
He had made me my world of hurt.
I love you Abaddon.
Thank you for loving me.