Please grasp me,
press me to your chest.
Hush my frenzied inhalations,
I can bear this pain no longer.
Dip your fore-finger,
across the roughed wake,
of my cheek.
Blot away the trauma.
Rest your chin
dangle its weight
my head -jeering-
clutches her temples.
It flickers, clarifies.
Back and forth,
Rocking, in fragmented, jerking
motions- her underweight
figure slammed along.
Blood purges with each
maddened- hoarse gurgles
the spittle deposits at
the overhang of her lip.
Snagged in the animosity,
of gnawing, writhing inhumanity.
TASTE IT rusted copper
An ashing purple, crusty
and running over engorged rims
of milky cocoa.
Darling, tip out your tongue,
lap up the shrivels
of failed organs and deprived marrow.
Pulse, with the steady
throb of an aching yawn.
Chilled moisture scoffs-
the nape of your neck.
Rocking back and forth,
Not good enough.
impales your upper thigh.
let him hear
Make it STOP
Rat infested heart hides the soul of a saint
Quaintly playing charades, the pond slime slides off a tongue
Build for setting ships to sail
Secret syllables change meaning and languid poses propose post-coitus bliss
Kisses on a forehead blessed by messy priests in dingy robes
Robbed Riches’ rage against any realization
Preferring to hide in squalor
satiated by stupidity
tremendous pus pockets pour onto the faces of the impoverished
seeping into the pores of the poor
leaving them broken and without self-awareness
……. And there they sit
Those who would control the masses have the power to change the status quo
The choice seems beyond preposterous
Far past crazy and absurd
Lies the realm of reality
A place in which we all reside, regardless of station or position
A place for us all to be engrossed in our collective one-ness
And while some make the rules
And some suffer the rules
The universal rule reigns
know one man changes anything
know single idea moves mountains
no reason to give up
loving the impossible
is a one way first class ticket
on the edge of a postal stamp
meeting the impossible
is me melting inside you
like a snowflake on your tongue
touching the impossible
an old man watching a bee
caught on the inside of a curtain
finding the impossible
on the edge of a postal stamp
It feels like feet migraines.
That's what I called them
When I was little.
When you put your feet into the ocean
At 47 degrees.
And your feet ache from the cold.
But even when you run back,
Avoiding the waves,
It still hurts.
"It's like a headache, but in my feet."
That's how everything feels now.
Even my heart,
And my dragon eyes,
And my loud tongue.
Meeting you was like an assassination
The moment you spoke
I felt the recoil
Point blank shot between the eyes
In one instant I was alone
Plenty sufficient at self-mutilation
I was content
To wander alone in my own thoughts
My personality cold
Chilled by the ice of the desolation
Of unreleased sorrow
One minute I am still
Meandering hopelessly in my world
Then there was you
Your first word was a slug
Dressed in copper it sank in
Sending shockwaves through the gray matter
I took the hit
My skull accepting the whiplash and allowing me
Some semblance of strength to move
I had no chance to heal before I was hit again
Your touch was electric
A million volts multiplied by the fluid
That is your glowing stare
The sound of my name on your tongue
Becomes a garrote
Taking my breath from my lungs
I can’t speak in your presence
All that I was because to die away
The lonely man who sought shelter
In the desert of loneliness
Bleeding out in the back of my mind
All who I thought I was
In the blink of a muzzle flash
Meeting you was like an assassination
The man I was
Some other man sauntered off that day
Someone I don’t know yet
But am striving to figure out
Against his will he’s confined in a notorious cell block mansion
Inmate number B-33920 his name, Charles Manson.
Some say he’s a prophet of living disaster
I beg to differ for what I can honestly see,
Never under estimate our power for he is also a vision master.
So charismatic diamonds start to fall off his tongue
There picking them up as his blessed words begin to flow.
Paying for a crime he never did any wrong
The panel was rigged and the prosecutor
Knew which way the final verdict would go.
Living in fear all the members of the jury
If it were random picks I’d be the hold out
Just to see the audience eyes become burning blurry
And to watch the splinters fly in the air
As the gavel comes smashing down in a hurry.
Denying freedom each and every time
The parole board does forever plan.
Under duress they have no choice for they been warned
Secretly hiding behind alias screen names
I predict there also joining his internet fan club clan.
Exploiting him for their own financial gain
The state’s making profits just because of his name
And to me they are the ones, who are savage
Because if the DOC loses custody of their celebrity
They then will lose their stimulus package.
At head count his body may physically be there
But in his mind, he’s walking on warm desert sand
As he pretends he is in Death Valley.
As for me, I’m lurking in the street
And hiding in a back alley.
Helter Skelter, Helter Skelter, Helter Skelter
Let him go, let him go, let him go!
Why shan't thou answer to me?
Emburse yourself until wholly submerged in my unholy divergence
Poor form tormented soul
Roll your pain in a j dipped in chloroform
Embrace my urges to purge the remnants of sanity
Spilling and screaming profanities at humanity
Confuddling all posers with my bastardized prose
Please, continue badgering and nagging me
with your buttfucking menagerie of trivial drudgery
I'm in misery go ahead and bludgeon me
Square in the noggin
So I can jog it while juggling nails from my coffin
Cancer-ridden addler babbling mad adages
Scoffing jealous skeptics -
Contort your face in ghastly panic
as I unleash dastardly antics of pandemic proportions and skullfuck you
Candid, my penchance enchants
Heavy-handedly in animated suspension
Supplant reality augmentation
Ramifications of my imagination
Implicating anal ransacking
and seafaring through crab infestations
Wreaking havoc and bequeathing vengeance
I'm a fire breathing grim reaper reaking of reefer
Off is the nearest direction in which to fuck
Dissect my erection with your tongue
Turnt up humping plumpies in the rump
just for the fun of it until I erupt
Remember i'm avid for dismembering appendages
I expect you're exceptional at accepting a barrage of septic bombardment
chance of success: logistics analysis zero percentage
Superbly superlative and speculative
So fast on adderal I make the Mad Hatter's head spin
Quicker than you can snap
Giving your family heart attacks
Smack you in the face
While fapping my fabulous lap rocket
thunderously plundering under covers
Springloaded with faux pas' so hot
Make your mother's pussy pop out and say hello
Foxy grandmas jaxing off my cock -
Bingo wings beckoning me
More fellatio; fucking head explodes
Slathered with double entendres
My passages smooth as laxatives
Brain grinding like acid
Bombastic fat bitches making my dick go flaccid
Valuable disparaging slut butts malleable like putty
Barbarically barrel rolling into dat ass
rip it to shreds like confetti
Power Pole extend
Face pressed into your panties
Inhaling the wafting aromatic stenches
of distant French fish factories
If nose goes go slow grow low
Throwing those yoloing hoes out windows
This shits simply bonkers
I conquer fear me
Clearly getting dome from your dearly betrothed
Now she bridal and my seeds spiraling virally
Vital signs finalizing
Bounce that ass like jello
Swell; I'm in your hair like gel
Now swallow my jollies and don't bother
Unless you hollerin and giving me dollars
Zealots idol my harlotry
BITCH DON'T HARSH MY MELLOW
SWEAR I'LL MARSH YOUR MALLOWS
If you need someone to talk to,
I am not that person.
I am a liar.
I will let you fall through
Colliding with ambiguous answers and
Secrets are my forte,
the tongue that becomes a serpent.
I will tell the world that
we were both at fault.
You will be forgiven,
putting your faith in the wrong person.
Hands clasped in prayer,
waiting for the time to die.
Infinitely telling your secrets to the Almighty.
I am a liar.
Nothing will be forgiven.
Buried in a shallow grave,
underneath a false headstone.
for my pardon.
do not give me a second glance.
You will turn me to salt.
Everyone gets hurt
when the square becomes a circle
Forget all memories of me.
Erase me from your world.
I will only tell you
what I believe.
Is that so wrong?
Why watch the world burn,
when you can start the fire?
At last I have finally met a lass who truly swept me
my heart neglected me
tears reflected off of atlas
Pacific Ocean specific motion
emotions sailing off my chest
swimming in this mess
blessed, this cursed tongue
Lord knows why I wept
drenched in fear
solely and dear
lovely hands crept
Mermaids sing the Devil's song
I blissfully swam along
love letters pile up in the grotto
stalactites drip in this empty hollow.
Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me
So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive
As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My Ho, Ho, Ho, is already long gone
Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around
Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time
As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose
Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes kill my kids parakeet out right
With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet
I'm not sure that my kids even noticed
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before
Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head