John liked it
Sam liked it
Oscar, philipa and James liked it
Penny she really liked it
Leo loved it but there was no love it button
So he liked it all the same
Which was ok
Surely love
Is made up of all the likes or so Leo thought any how
jasmine hated it
Christine well she couldn't be bothered to read right now so clicked write a poem so she could create her own little masterpiece
That Inturn could be liked by the masses
Grace
She stopped a while
Grace connected
Grace was inspired
Grace left a comment
The comment read
'I really like this'
People rush around to fast
But for the grace of god
Hold tight to the likes
Tomorrow the dislike button May be around
Then we'll all be in trouble

Doing dishes today felt different
cause there was two of everything.
Two mugs into three,
it's a good thing though that we both like tea.
Two big plates and little plates
and half of a left over cheesecake.
The roast from last night that I just ate
didn't have the same taste.
The extra towel drying on the rack
is causing an irritating flashback.
Even with the windows shut and the radiator on
it doesn't feel warm.
Too much space in the bed...
enough said!
I don't so much miss you
but more the concept of you.
Just had a cigarette
and wrote this poem too.
The usual drill
you haven't replied to my text, still.
"Am I in?", you asked.
Not yet, I feel.

i am wearing a kimono,
this sheer, garish, floral shred of fabric that wafts about my frame.
the cafe people snip at it with their eyes full of sharp edges.

ive been here all day
the view is terrible,
the music
is like the sound of a snail in seasalt.
little
crackles
of wet flesh hot and retreating, no, burning.
but i am so tired I cant move.
maybe it isn't so bad,
maybe I am just being difficult...
everything,
even the kiss colored leaves that
toss themselves down the boulevard,
seem shrill to me.

all i can
think about
is what you said to me last night

"a pretty face is a loaded gun"
tearing holes into me with your angry eyes.
you know
the line itself is crap,
a splinter in this thigh,
it is snapping, that line, under all the meaning
i gave it  in my drunken storm.

i walk along that line,
as though it is stretched between sky scrapers,
high above like a tightrope.
today all the great buildings that surround, give me perspective on my size,
and they hiss
as great, hollow objects seem to do sometimes.

now that iam awake
i see that it doesn't make sense
when you said it
you were swimming in a gin bath and
playing the poet with a shredded heart
but iam trying to give you credit
and find something other then an image
-image of my body
with a heavy, black barrel protruding from my throat
and a tantalizing trigger, curling like a tongue taunting you
to pull it
and blow your fucking skull apart-
you were just trying to offend me thats what i see.
dont blame this face, you are just angry.

goddamm the music here sounds like nails!
that man over there with the sloppylips looks like he might disintegrate
in worse shape then me I think,
I hope.

anyways i was saying dont blame this face
thats right i say iam beautiful,
you said it first though.
though you only said it, in search of the trigger.

christ,
we all need to get up and go,
this place is like a horse's mouth
lets all get up and walk out together in a thread of gorgeous bodies who just
wont take it anymore. lets go.
forget it. wait
what was i saying?

So what if I am crazy, like I would need to know.
People say The words I write and cry are cursed.
How would they know that? They don't even know me....
Maybe they are right. I only write for the loss of love and peace.
I have done things that the two lords of the world would not approve of.
The lies, the tears and the lost hope for a brighter day.
I just want it to end.
I am called crazy from my own mother, she says i'm a sinner.

Thats all for now ( I think )

My Solace

when every aperture is a tunnel narrowing,
a light pin diminishing when nearing,

when the desk drawer yields up unused theater tickets,
for performances concluded yesterday,

when the denouement is nothing new but worse,
revealed in the coming attractions trailer,

when the rusted unborn poem notion is concluded
but remains unpublished,
for no beginning can be found,

when poems spilled forth like there would
never be a when they wouldn't,

I revisit my old friends, stars of pleasure,
when couplets fell like happy tears,
sweetly and freely,

my old friends, reread,
words rearranged in new combinations,
old poems, plants bearing new fruits,
re-titled all,
My Solace.

Ineffable

---------------------------------------------
Too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words:
Too sacred to be uttered.
-------------------------–-------—----------

The whimpered cries of the dying
in the rubble of Bangladeshi avarice,
announcing we were worthy of life,
to which we think a whispery, silent
amen.

The first alive cries of new born lungs
in the stainless delivery room,
hear the babies pronouncing a blessing, Shecheyanu
to which we think a whispery, silent
amen.

The unspoken devotions of adoration
in the sleeping chamber, that cannot
be heard or answered for they're dreamt,
to which we think a whispery silent
amen.

Ineffable.

The disgusted silence of the God they pray to
in his holy places, when Jew spits upon Jew,
for forgetting in whose image they were created,
to which we cannot say nor think
anything.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
Master of the universe,
who has kept us alive and sustained us
and has brought us
to these special moments.

Ineffable,
too sacred to be uttered,
so instead of the paucity of these words,
know each tear in the reservoir of my eyes
is my unspoken poem prayer.

Instead of answerIng amen,
wipe my eyes with your fingertips,
silently.

Best friend we are
Best friend we will be.
For always for ever
You and me!

Longer than a phone call,
Deeper than the sea
All this belongs to us,
You and me!

Put it in a bottle
Never let it free
Keep it in your heart,
You and me!

I hope you read this poem
Remember it for me
Look after it with care
You and me!

Ah, Jacob
I love you
(look! I have personalized my poem! But alas, that means I have isolated
the audience.
By mentioning your name-
such a wonderful name, it reminds me of church bells
Doritos
and a good shower after a long run-
by mentioning your name, I have ensured
that those not in love with a Jacob-
and I pity them, for if they do not have one, they should seriously consider finding one-
Anyway
By mentioning you name, my love
I have ensured that those not in love with a Jacob
will never understand the soaring
joy
sorrow
trust
security
never understand what it is they have just read).

Water is like black people
It erodes everything
Eventually