next to never (a pair of ones)

squeezed between nuh-uh and fugetaboutit,

is that long gone notion in the nation of concepts,

like one true love, the connected lines on each of our

bodies, certifying we are a pair of ones, a strong hand.


there are chores to be done:

reread Guy de Maupassant,

delete two thousand unread emails

cry for my so lost children

let Walt Whitman wash over my body like oil

kick the guy out of bed so he can make us coffee.

a ton of stuff to do, good thing, we got a strong hand,

that pair of ones.

which I am now informed is called a pair of

Aces.

Who Knew?

7:51 Sun Jul 12

I’ll meet you there
in a place
where dreamers
are awake
and dreams
come alive

in a place
where the impossible
slumbers
and the cruel reality
momentarily
halts

I’ll meet you
somewhere
where you and me
are definite,
and our times together,
infinite

I’ll meet you in a place
where wishes come true,
tears dry,
heartaches heal—

some place where
I say I love you
and you say,
I love you too

Regal, your ego!
Soaring high above the clouds
A hard pauper's fall

A black blunt knife
She is, not a wife
Seems to be a life

Our picnic days are over,
The cherries are all done,
The clouds are darkening the sky,
And it’s chilly in the sun.
The strawberries are bitter now,
The wine has lost its taste,
The bread and cheese is hard and stale,
My broken heart lies with the waste.

Our picnic days are over
And the smell of new-mown hay
Is just a sad reminder
Of a sultry summer’s day
When we lay beneath a golden sun,
But the gold has turned to rust,
Those sultry summer days are gone,
My broken heart lies in the dust.

Working for YOU
Fighting for YOU
Losing sleep for YOU

But me, I work two jobs, have three sick dogs, and over 100,000 dollars in student debt to pay off.

Not enough time to eat, for YOU
Crying for hours, for YOU
Migraines for days, for YOU

But I'm seemingly straight
I am white
Everything I've done means nothing. . .

To YOU.

So leaves the conscious breath of day,
And with my dwindling mind power, I lay
And pray upon my awaited sleep
That it delivers me another life to keep.

Oh sleep, why don't you heed my call
To present me else with greater gall;
The life of one that springs in step
And looks back at all in a fond recall.

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

Give Love Freely , Christ calls Us to Love Our Neighbor here.
Give Love Freely, For Christ calls Us to Love Our Brother too.
Give Love Freely , For Christ calls Us to Love Our Enemies too.
Give Love Freely, For Christ has Loved Us First then We Love Him.
Give Love Freely, For We are Called to spread the Gospel of Love.
Give Love Freely, By Loving Others First maybe then they Love you too.
Give Love Freely, Through doing this People shall see Christ within You.
Give Love Freely, Not the worldly type but Unconditional Love from God.
Give Love Freely, Live Your Life as a Servant for Christ Love Unconditional.

The colorful world
Is colorless these days
Just black and white.

Poetry is an incantation
A few words written
Cuts to the mind
Beyond imagination

Hurt a heart
Change a mind
Mountain moved
Emotions entwined

Magic is
What you read
What one writes
And can make your soul bleed

Goldenrods and oak
Flecks of emerald and amber
Awake! vivid spring

you said you were an addict
i thought you are addicted to
joie de vivre, happiness or maybe smoking

you were an addict
but you were addicted to
sadness, drugs and pain

you were an addict
and i was ready to drown with you
untill you said you love drugs more than me

My mask grows unsteady.
I've tasted the poison.
I prevail in the aura.
Blend my persona, I am ready.
Save the skin, feed me the mind.
Lie to me, this I do surmise.
Thank you, hold my hand.
I delude of Dorian Grey.
Delusions of grand fear.
Lonely, stark cold, lovely.
A jam jar built from marble.
A steed on a corpse.
Maps, dreams, peace filled, juxtaposed.
Lie to me darling, take me to the moon.

I watch as she smiles at you
Though I can’t see your face
I know I’ve made a mistake

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

staring out the window,
I remember you as you were

a bird always in flight

a fist full of tomorrows
held in the palm of your hand

staring out the window at the pouring rain
the warmth of your hand
pinions of a dove's wing
your hand in mine

I will not see the shadow
under your smile


gathering all the light in a room
like a flower in the sun

I remember you as you were

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

i have this deeprooted fear
                        that someday it’ll stop
                 that everyone i love
          will tire of me
    and my constant state
                                         of falling apart

the fear tugs at my soul
           aches in my bones
      until i go numb
                   buried in the sheets with you
              desperate to make you stay
       it makes my hair stand up
  my stomach go sour

i want to run away
                            so bad it hurts
                    because i’ve learned
           to settle for a glass half empty
    to ruin good things
                                 before they ruin me

i’m playing a losing game
                                pretending this is viable
               wasting away just out of reach
                                                         out of touch

I can't tell if the stinging in my eyes
Is from my tears
Or from keeping my eyes
Open in the rain
Too long.
Both end up blurring my vision anyway.
I don't mind though.
Because if there is a God,
And he's up there,
Then at least I know
He's as frustrated as I am.
And he deserves to be.

Rope - 4 feet
Button up shirt, blue - 1
40 sheets paper -1
Box - 1
Pen - 1
Bottle of Brandy - 1
Big bag of dog food - 1

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

Falling away

The edges crack
They break

Slipping through
Losing all we held onto

Fighting
Sinking

Trying to swim

Deeper and deeper

A battle within

Fearing death
After a life of sin

An unforgiving goodbye

THE END

maybe I could drive away, drive my way
towards you
get past Tennessee
and through
watch the flowers die and bloom
maybe if I lose my mind—
come closer to the truth
maybe if I look for you
in mountains you’ll be carved into
them just the way
I always do—
you’re in my mind
you’re in my room
I see you in the phantom blue, I
fall I drown I look for you
I close my eyes, don’t wanna lose

I close my eyes;
the flowers bloom

Queer is asking broken systems if everyone gets to breath again - now -
Queer is a broken system
Queer is every colour you ever seen and every sound you ever heard
Queer is movement moving like a river - calm
Queer is movement moving like a river - violent
Queer is home, un umbrella to make a home for many and few and everyone and no one
Queer is thoughts and bodies and *** and hands and hearts
Queer is the way I walk and sleep and love and work and write
Queer is my nose touching your nose
Queer is the kiss you give me on my cheek
Queer is the fear and the truth and it’s the fear of truth
Queer is more true then all the other ****
Queer is Crip and Femme and the Working class
Queer has many friends, queer loves and inspires and takes care of its friends
Queer becomes its friends. Invisible, beautiful and broken
Queer is pride for broken backs
Queer is when the broken they see is what makes you whole
Queer is queer is queer.

You’re much like the rain,
You can be soft or heavy,
Or kind to my drought.

If my fate is to love you
From a distance
Then I'll burn for you
Like a star in your night sky
Bright, steady, reliable
Unwavering
Until the end of time.

I’m somebody’s daughter

Made of sugar and gasoline
I wash away the filth until I bleed  
Desperate to be clean

I’m somebody’s daughter

A small and hungry crime scene
Made of guilt and strawberry cream
But I never cry in my dreams

I’m somebody’s daughter

Trying to become untaught
They love the sound of sorry
Even when they know I’m not

when words are targets
the truth remains unspoken
and progress will stall

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)