Dinner ain't lunch,
But maybe the time
For roast chicken baked
With a bouquet of thyme.
For desert, key lime pie.
Calories be damned!
Dinner is weight...sigh.

dim green light
murks
from behind a heavy curtain

bright white moon
shines
pushing away clouds

purple light
seeps
in between black steal

lime green fish
sail
through aqua water

green lights
flash
circles in my mind space

blue and yellow
dots
pull from the sky

I am two years ago.
Drained, tears dried on half nauseous cheeks.
White cherubs dancing around pillowcases.
Skin tight bathroom stalls, privacy and all.
Heartbeats and finger pricks and sliced needles.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!” - never tell the truth.
Whiskey dripping off stolen kitchen counters.
Near table dances and Mexican card games.

I am one year ago.
Wretched body, breathing over wharf sides.
Monks writhing around university campuses.
Black sheets and hidden hearts, heavy from ghosts.
Simple hellos stalking vocal chords.
Ice cram and peanut butter and nails caked with dirt.
Forty minute drives through towering devils.
Open air, trains rumbling, televisions buzzing.

I am this year.
Flighty with emotions, catching wind and carrying away.
A long-time-coming-broken-heart-oh-so-painful.
Rebuilding, ground up, bitter lime and fire whiskey.
Snapshot footage grabbing life-like inconsistencies.
Black stained jeans with button up lungs hanging dry.
Cat fights and car crashes from day to day to day to day.
Clean slates and broken bottles, the oddity that is a stranger.

Blood ties that bind, rewind to the beginning. Roots and origins rule! Fast-forward to current day sinning.

Spinning head in hands, grinning, with new wisdom retrieved, winning! Thinning shadows in sight, white light brought to you by a sending.

Lending a handful of dreams, of skies and seas free of shipping. Bright eyes watery, nose dripping, you know what to design.

Finally, with a twist of a lime, you're subliminally inclined to create whatever flows from mind. The little hand stops on the 9.

Sit and unwind, while thoughts transcend Space and Time. Line after line, I'll write rhyme after rhyme, with no dollar or dime. No silver to deliver of mine.

Climb a ladder to find, a glowing river that shines. A free-flowing life giver, ignited with warmth, waste it not on a shiver.

Glimmers of hope for a bright future, nurture the suture that absorbs. Stored sour hate flees the wound, soon we will know the score.

Core knowledge of what is to come, we hide deep down in our drawers. Plough on right through the doors, as you appear again in the now.

How did this happen? You wonder, with sweaty towel from the brow. Trowel steamy fields of dreams for the cows.

Scowls turn to smiles, as sunbeams burst through the clouds. Loudly you stand on the ground, without a sound, you're dumbfounded.

Surrounded and astounded, with shrouded mysteries unraveled, you're overwhelmed with great valour. Empowered hour after hour, your happiness remains undevoured.

"Shower with love on the gravel, sir!" These are words of wisdom from the time traveler.

Long, cold nights when I feel the pangs of being alone I walk into a bar,
and wear a black hoodie sweatshirt with a gray Tee underneath it, along
with brown penny loafers and tan khakis. Before I leave my two-story
apartment house I spray my armpits with the scent of morning dew and
ocean breeze. Two showers, complete with soapy water and warm-smelling
shampoo, creates this forcefield around my aching body. I wear contact lenses
because I'm afraid that if a tall, pretty girl with long brown hair looks into
my eyes she will see fragility and a vast emptiness that has no bearing,
the weight sunken in between the slats of my soul. At the bar I tremble
in my leather padded stool, swaying back and forth. I order a
whiskey and ginger. Guzzle my drink down. Wipe my brow with a
wrinkled cocktail napkin. Sleep pervades my buzzed brain, waves of restlessness
crawl down the back of my spine. The band plays on a wooden platform, unaware
of my dreams, cognizant only of the electric guitar humming a power chord.
The powerful sticks smashing into the tom-toms. Beat by beat as the
trumpet launches a series of soothing melodies. My friend, Andrew, the singer
belts his falsetto voice into the microphone and takes sips gingerly
from his Bud Light Lime. To the left of me is an older woman. She's dressed
in a black cocktail dress and black pumps. Her dimples accentuate her oval face.
Cobalt eyes blaze with such veracity that I am speechless from within,
as I scramble to avert my eyes from her plump breasts that protrude
from her low cut clothing. Horny can't even begin to describe how I am feeling.
I'm pumped with adrenaline and I smell of dank sweat and fear. She turns
her head towards me. She wriggles her nose. "Are you staring at me?" she asks.
"You know, I have a boyfriend so don't try anything funny." Do I give a fuck
that she has a boyfriend? Well, I kind of do, but not really. I nod my head at her.
Then I order a jack and coke. I pound the drink down. I slap my hand on the countertop.
"Are you listening to me?" she asks. I turn to face her. I smile and give her a thumbs up.
"No I'm not listening to you right now. That's your boyfriend's job. Please
do us both a favor and find attention elsewhere dollface." I shouldn't have called her dollface
Then again I'm at a hole in the wall bar at 1'o clock in the morning with a
raging erection jutting out of my pants. Bars used to attract me like a dangerous scent
from a poisonous, red rose plucked from Eden. But now all I want to do is
listen to the music playing in the background. And drink until I cannot see this woman's
mouth opening and closing. If she does not shut her lips I will thrust my cock
in her face. Because I'm a hopeless romantic, a nice guy, a runner up. And apparently
the majority of women think that men like me are seriously fucked up in the head.
Well guess what ladies you're right. But let me buy you a drink anyways.
I could give two fucks if your boyfriend is at the show or not. This is a Bar.

Have you ever thought
That maybe;  
I wanted to get caught,
Wanted to  
Break your heart
You certainly  
Played your part,
Followed your intuition
But I wasn't  
Practicing inhibition,
Staying out  
Till the morning,
Coming home  
To you sitting  
There mourning,
The loss of  
Our once upon a time
Fairy tale start  
Turned tart like a lime,
Shattered looking glass;
Can't bring it back,  
Listen to the jazz
Playing softly  
In the background
Do you really think  
I want to go another round?
Made the exit crystal clear
For you to leave my dear,
I had left the building already
Fire exit  
I set off all the alarms  
But you chose  
To ignore it all
Like one dismisses  
A blocked ID call,
I'm immune to your charms;
Just leave me be,  
I'm no longer your teddy...
© okpoet