(april 2020)

..day19..

i have read back over my time

find

i repeat myself





maybe it is the routine

that came

the same

most days





except the plane does

not come over and

there were three geese

this morning

not two as before





we have gotten neighbourly

leaving the errands on the

bench outside



the fire burned hot

melting the trash bag



we walk

we look

we wait

we work





i spoke to him yesterday

he is running out of coal

i am told the local council

group will help in this

situation james





he remembers the war

james





not involved really

1234

Life is but a spectral of lite. Only you have the ability to illuminate Darkness..

I saw you through the looking glass
You’re always so beautiful
Even when the skies weep from above

You’re the spirit that roams my dreams
Only when I reach you
Do I become complete

Be yourself, never hide
Be brave,
Even when the world tears itself up
I loved you then,
And I love you now
Til this heart runs its last beat
I’ll love you until the end of time

I look at the moon and think of you.

Our love was nothing
more than faded letters
kept in a drawer,
eating dust to survive.
We pretended it died
out of famine
as we discreetly moved on
free of guilt.


But...


I still have the scars
hidden under my sleeves;
begging for attention,
like a kid in the aisle
of a candy store,
eyeing a bottle of gummy bears
and a pack of Reeses.


What is there to miss?


I don't even know
the curve of your smile
when you said a cryptic 'hi'
almost a month ago.
When you pulled me close-
but not too close
because you were afraid of love
more than losing it.


Our hands
weren't made
to touch;
a curve and an asymptote
always r e a c h i n g,
a depressed biology
of 'crown shyness'
moving from trees
to human fingertips.


And so i
planned to leave...


only to see
your addio note
and spare keys
sitting comfortably
on the breakfast table,
having a pep talk
with a cup of cold coffee
and a stale egg omelette.


You won
in our race
to goodbye.

Bees, yellow and black with a six pack of knees.,
Freeze! it was a mellow attack but he stung my??🤣

unable to break free i see no light
no end no dawn but eternal night

Forget me,
I ask you.
I forgot my smile,
I forgot my laugh.
I forgot me as a child,
I forgot my wrath.
For I have forgotten myself.
So don’t try and think that I am near
I won’t be here
And go away,
Once I fade,
Forget my wrath,
Forget me as a child.
Forget my laugh,
Forget my smile.
I ask you,
Forget me.

there's no advance
to this thing
i'm writing

i've heard tons on
tons of the palisades
and i've never lived
west of the
missouri and
where are the palisades
define it
geographically
a minimal

comprehension or-
some other thing-
of the perception
of how people
talk
here
in
missouri

would go a far long
ways in the palisades
somewhere in
flor'da                              or
califor'nia
god i wish i'd known
the weight-per-
pound a baton
centered on a
human forehead

but you had

i hadn't

they won’t miss me
she whispers as she pours
another pill in her hand

they won’t miss me
he mutters as he ties the
knot of the rope that will
be his end

they won’t miss me
she laughs ironically as
she loads the gun

they won’t miss me
he sighs as he picks up
the knife

i wish it didn’t have to be like this
they all cry

but now
it’s too late
the pills gone
the rope knotted
the gun loaded
and
the knife stained.

Scream
Scream
Mouth so wide
The corners of my mouth
Begin to tear
Fingers tangled in my hair
pulling, no care
Hitting my head
off my tears it fed
i wish I was asleep instead.

I stopped writing

For awhile.

Because I found that when I write
It’s so real.
It’s like hearing back my own words from the lips of someone wiser

Not from a broken child,
But from a bitter miser.

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.

twenty dollars is not worth a life.

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

You're the life and soul of the party
You fill my mind with inspiration
You give my poetry a purpose
Filling my senses with a euphoric sensation

You're a carefree bird flying in solitude
I fell into the trap and became your prey
Unable to set free, you gripped firmly
But you didn't know, I wanted to stay

You caught my attention at the first glimpse
I became yours at that very moment
You were oblivious to my desires
But I gave you my life in bestowment

I was captured by your looks and charm
But you opened up and taught me real beauty
I didn't know the meaning of true love
Then I understood, loving you is my God given duty

Whitman: “If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle,they are nothing”

                                                       ­  <>

“These are really the thoughts of all men, in all ages and lands,
they are not original with me, If they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing, If they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing, If they are not just as close as they are distant they are nothing.”

Song of Myself (1892 version) by WALT WHITMAN

                                                      ­ ­     §§§

exactly, for if not to mystify and to demystify,
why do we write, opine large, secretly confessing,
what is know to all soto voice in the chamber of secrets
that lies between the brains four chambered ventricles,
that leads to a Grand Canal through which flow riddles,
all these thoughts, yours, mine, and overlapping crazy

solitary, they merge within the river of combination,
then known to all, colloquially named Ours, then too,
answers arrive in the scrivening, when each plain to see,
once the riddle posed, the answer is freed to exposure,
like veins blue to red, when oxygenated, our mysteries,
all colors, untied, there is but one color, reddened blood

these thoughts, become yours, more than mine, for
in the taking is the additive chemical that enhances,
making the distance closed to only closer, here I pause,
fearful, you hesitate, do not understand, sunshine can
blind any man, sickness humble any body, we are alike
in commonality, more than different, we are all riddled

and next to nothing is everything, all worth knowing,
you, write my poetry, as I write of you with breathless
ease and comfort, for the thoughts of all men in all
ages and lands, are original to where our eyes espy
each other, where our lips kiss to cross, cross to kiss,
what is the what, this simplicity, the great difference

                                                    ­   §§§§§


Fri. May 15
Manhattan Island,
Isle of Man
10:26am

Not Black,
Not white,
Nor Brown,
If it is living being,
It matters.
Love all,
Be kind,
Be happy.
--Jayalalita B Iyer

WE CAN’T BREATHE
WHEN YOU COVER OUR MOUTHS.

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

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)

It's time for a name
Not to be just another 'name'

To anyone who lost a life
You didn't die in vain

Colour doesn't matter
Inside we're all the same

It's time to stop the suffering
It's time to stop the pain

My world, my light, be pulled into my gravity.
My sweet cradle of sunshine, let me set you free.

Like a eagle of the night, God is always watching over us,
Let the pain roll like the Guatemala wind, let it roll away,
we will climb higher mountains than these,
for there will be blue skies, there will be blue skies.

By Texas, we'll be free,
By Georgia, we'll feel alive,
By Colorado, we'll touch the sky.
By Ireland, I'll be your summer.
By Carolina, I'll hold you up high.
By Romania, I'll be your armor,
By this world, I'll hide you  -

In the New Jersey Light.

I fell in love with the way you touched me without using your hands,
The way your name played in my head like a song on repeat,
I fell in love with the way you consumed me.
I fell in love with your entire being.
The scars and the flaws.
The imperfections and the chaos.
The invulnerability and insecurity
I fell in love with you.

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't

Sometimes I wonder
if noise had a colour
then what shade
would silence be

like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim

like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul

like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness

like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers

like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided

like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her

Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

i never used to smoke
but since you left,
it’s the only time i can seem to breathe

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.

I used to have interaction on here but for the past 6 months my account has had zero.
No one is seeing my writing. Please help

”Well, my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not comin' on.
I'm just payin' my rent every day in the Tower of Song”

Leonard Cohen lyric from The Tower of Song


§§§

this lyric hits, it’s a ten fingered cheeky ****** marking,
fits like a new white t-shirt, clean~perfect in every aspect,
I’ve just changed song to poetry, so nobody’s complaining

axiomatic, slept less a than three shambolic hours last nite,
don’t ask what I was doing or even a simple why, even the
vultures grew tired, helplessly hoping for solutions to start appearing

water pressure ok, poem spigot strong but the words desiccated,
it’s time to revisit roots, back to where I’ve come-begun, bury losses,
seek no consideration, write in isolation, a-quiet niche, a shhh! beach

my silent reverie owns me and the angels, biggest fans, just can’t
get enough, know their faith is strong, never proofing reads required,
content to wait till find my lost chords, comforts of only fresh truths

so arrivederci, until we meet again, when cadences have resumed,
rolling in unbroken, won’t need other’s words recirculating my blood,
till my slip sliding over, direction from arrows stabbing new openings

rented a storage unit in nearby woods, empty shelves greet ya with a
‘ready, willing, and able,’  many open arms looking for fulfilling, a job, that don’t even pay minimum wage, but the benefits are just fan-tastic

So:
should you spot a man ungainly wrought,
weighted down by a harpoon cross, resting,
‘pon on his cursed Cain-marked back, fingertips,
you need not move to the other side, or hide,
'tis only a make-believe poet, no longer believing,
with his recording device, seizing your rhapsodies
to rhyme with his own collected artifacts, your crinkly
smiles are his meat, his metier, his chosen career,
to be again a comfort caresser of your illusions into
a shapely sculpture of words be-loved, keeping-worthy,
tokens of a reexamined self worth, a new girth, leaner,
a celebration for the keeping, dug up with pail and shovel,
a best left hid on his treasured island, in a treasure chest, only his new-no-good-best-most-satisfying-new-no-good-best-mystifying-sati­sfying-cursing-muses-who-got-two-knee-on-my-soul-I’m-
howling...
­
Monday Jun 1, 2020