.
.
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melodies, delicacies & poetry
I indulge myself in these,
for I am drunk on emptiness
never to break free.


The life I am living as, is it--

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

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)

I try to find art in a picture of the future—
but my fingers keep on tracing
each one of my past paintings,
thinking about how beautiful it was
when I colored them wild and free.

The ground is molten lava
there is fire in the
air we breathe, it is
my one desire to have
you here with me.
You may want to
pray to Jesus when
this story ends. Will
you keep my company
I guess that just depends
I count the souls here
by the trillions, we get
more every day. Some
times it's by the billions
and they are here to stay.
Here you will find Buda,
Allah's in here too
I know this may upset
some, not what it's
meant to do. I am just
a demon and soul's
are up for sale, the next
step when the wicked
die is here with me
in hell. This description
is not over, river's of feces
on the floor. You will seek
to find a way out but
will not find the door.
each person here doe's
suffer, the torment never
ends. If a name is
not in the book of
life the suffering  just
begins.

All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing

I walked to meet up with the dope dealer
To get some more of the soul stealer.

i didn’t mean to fall in love
but i did
and you didn’t mean to hurt
but you did

If passion is fire. We have that in common
I ignite, you ignite. Burn factor remain same.
I don’t see an end. Only way to put out the fire. To kiss where it matters the most.

When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay

Comedy can mock tragedy
As long the lion stays in it’s cage

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

When searching for happiness one may find that the hunt is filled with so many ups and downs that its just easier to be content with 
BEING ALONE

Im trying to forgive

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

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

i’ve been looking for someone
have you seen him?
he looks a bit like me
perhaps a little less wear
we were on this path together
but we turned off the trail
for that he was there
but when i reached the clearing
he had gone
have you seen him?
tell him i miss him
i’ve been looking for someone.

I love you
whatever that means.

Saturn is in
line with
Venus tonight
but, nothing's easy
when you're down.
The clowns walk
around, dressed in
yellow; fast food smiles
and cheeseburger
souls, and nothings
easy when you're down.

The dancers with poles
and sadness, that Halloween,
fires burning...childhood,
perfumed dreams,
kind of sadness fills the
navy blue night.
I can't find the North star,
and the jack-lanterns lie rotting
in the streets of Nebraska
and Kansas, and the candies
all gone, and the kids wait.
And I can't find  
the deep blue shirt I bought
at Goodwill, and Billy Burroughs
is filled with worms and earth,
and Bukowski looks at Satan
and says, "what do you
mean, we're out of whiskey?"

I've never been much for the stars,
and family and Thanksgiving are
painfully overrated,
and nothing's easy when
you're down.

I have stared
Far too long
At this blank page.
I've come to the hard realization,
Like a refugee raft,
This poem won't write herself.

Sharp jagged rocks, a river
doe's flow, I hear
your voice on the breeze
I've learned a lot and
one thing I do know
is your cry in the pine
on the trees. Lover
of life with a care free
spirit induces me to
see, that you are wild
and I'm nowhere near
it is why it's unsettled
in me. It's your way
that beaconed me,
it caused me to see
that you were a lover
of all. I was under
your spell now I'm
finally free I'm no longer
six inches tall.

No longer
Can I taste
The fresh flavor of fun
Is it because of too much exposure?
Has my mind changed?
Has the world changed?
When will the fun come?
Is fun important? Is life important?
Too many questions with no distraction
I care about nothing
I feel nothing
I am innocent--no longer

A loon communes on the lake,
the lake is a tear drop on Mother Earth,
the ripples flow like glass being blown,
I am perched on my porch.
The loon cries once more,
I puff on my cigar,
the smoke shifts indecisively,
it moves much like the unchained around me,
free willed and wild.
I dream of being unchained.
My branches stretch out,
they yearn for the sun,
but heavy grey clouds hang on puppet strings.
Overcast and encumbered by responsibility,
they shroud the sun,
blanket it with regret and doubt.
I dream of being unchained.
I lower my branches and shout,
but no one hears,
my voice is chained.
The loon cries out,
it echoes unrestrained.

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.

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.