The breeze and pastel sundown remind of life
Door slam to same car, in same spot, in same lot
Strange hand drops modified food in squeaky
Cart, and they won't taste like anything
Same faces, same line
Grumpy man makes same cashier cry
We catch eye
And she doesn't remind
Of anything
Same turns, same drive
Lids open, same home
Answer phone, fine, same old
Voice on line doesn't
Sound like anything
Strange hands touch trinkets on dusty shelf
But there are no memories
Chipped edges, ridged wrinkles, don't feel like anything
Strange hands open shades
Trees are bare, scattered warm
Stuffed in bags, piled high
Hadn't noticed anything
Body moves, mouth lies, passion friend and hobby fade
Mind set, decision made
And yet
And yet
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 8:24 AM UTC
The wood floors screeched and scraped
As she yanked her bed aside
In a crazed hunt, sweeping for
Scraps; anything would do
A pinch, a taste, a crumb
She plucked the dirt and dust from chemical gems
Pooling the fragments in mounds
Sweat poured down her wrinkled brow
The room steamy from summer and glowing screen
Full of jobs she would not get, and friends she could not call
And music that had lost its mystery
A world she could not follow
Drawn shades and stinking clothes
Stash spots scoured, links to lenders soured
Pocket and purse empty funded
She collected her meager treasure
And consumed
Mush minded marsh of good and guilt
It wasn’t
Enough, it was never enough
Unsteady and emaciated bag of lone bones
Dials never-call-Paul, desperate
Hey baby, trade you a
Hit for a hit
Modded whip picked her up with mechanical lion roar
Of engine souped
Drag king down to explore
He handed her a zip, and a piece
Do your thing
She choked it down water eyed
His hand, a scorpion on her thigh
What is this, she asked
Lights divided; kaleidosynchro swimmers and dancer faces
Sounds sludge oozing and brain train no conductor
She faded in and out
Half aware that he was
Taking his turn to the same rhythm
Car behind a dumpster
Paul gyrated brutally, from every angle
Raw skinned and full of disease
It’s ok, it’s just me
You wanted this, he panted
In the ear of a tangled pile of limbs
Whose name escaped him
Pants hiked and belt buckled, they moved
She was sore, and hit more
By the time they stopped again, cold napping
The racer rolled into his chop shop
And the swarm huddled
Mechanics, painters, draggers, part lifters, negotiators
Muscled, scarred, tattooed, and greedy eyed
He let the mob have their turn
And they plowed her on the hood
One, another, another, two
Stretched and wrecked and broken
Across the street, a neighbor puffed a camel
And watched
Who is she, anyways?
I don’t know, just
Some
*****
He carried her to her room, left her
Half alive but wide eyed
The rest is in your pocket, I gave you extra
Because I’m a nice guy
She crawled into the shower, where she leaked pink drops
And her tears were invisible
Sobbing, and rocking, and scrubbing
Exhaled her high from an empty bag
I can’t go on
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
When I die
Don’t be sad
It won’t change a thing
And I’m not coming back
If you care so much
Lets be happy now
Together
When I go, don’t pick pretty things
Sweet petaled flora
Piling the dying on the dead
Instead, plant me something colorful
Make sure it gets water, and sun
When I leave
Don’t whisper angry should-haves
Or wish you’d let me know
Start writing
I would love to hear from you
Read more
Help a stranger, or someone you hate
Commit yourself to something
Quit a self-destructive habit
When I’m gone
Talk to me
I’ll listen
Think about things that make you cry
And be braver than you are numb
Pray, even when you've stopped
Believing or think it’s dumb
When I’m done
Don’t march in black, or be scared to use my name
Celebrate your own vitality
Tell stories and remember
I hope I made you laugh
Drink and hug and live
And say to that creeping specter
That ever looming doom
To **** off
Not today
Don’t hold grudges
All love comes from forgiveness
Of self
Challenge your ideas
It’s alright to be wrong
After me
Keep living
When you are empty
When you are down
When your winter soul is a frigid void
Feel my mitts on your tense shoulders
And the warmth of my arm’s cocoon
Swim in my eyes
Let me heal you, let me soothe
When you doubt it most
When there is only sting and ache
I will be with you
I will love you
You will never be alone
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 4:35 PM UTC
He liked to travel after the
War, he said
His father had explored Japan
With a friend and two local lady guides
Happily snapping culture shock
Soaking in the landscape
Partaking in practices exotic and strange
They went to a sushi restaurant, and
This is before they had that stuff in the cafeteria
Calamari alarmed the two
Polite tasters but face contort and twister
His father a dab, his friend: a bite
The girls laughed and finished the squid, raw alright
And they left, owner eyeing as they go
New tourist destinations but
Their stomachs start to plummet
The girls drop sick and writhe and twitch
And kick
As he gets all three to the
Hospital, where he is suspected
Manages to get authorities
To the restaurant, where owner
Sees two ghosts walk before his
Face, and random ****** cyanide
Lies waiting
The girls went violently
His friend had a piece removed
His father, still going strong
Though he’d always been
A little gassy
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
Tonight I saw the fullest
Moon, there were no
Shadows or pock marks on her
Face, beauty lune
Streaming silvery ribbons
Through the clumpy clouds
Through the night
Through my path, and me
And I was
In that moment
Fleeting and electric
Lucid and apologetic
Empty lunged and
Satisfied
In that Pompeii moment
I was not dead, or dying, but
Preserved
In that mercury, I felt tomorrow
In that quicksilver, I told
God my plans, and
Together, we
Wept
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
I found a little broken bird
Feather light, sweet and disturbed
Chirping loud offensive bursts
Flapping wild dance on curb
I wouldn’t dare cage her so
She roamed free
Regained her wings at home with me
Caught off guard the way
She handled hits
Violent when she sings
Shouldn’t stop, but golden made
Path strayed and dropped busy day
Comfort melted by my blue
So full of charity
Flew away one night, new tree
After all did not need me
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Speed up, said Angel
Don’t pump it, smooth
These people cruise, I drive
Over six, wide and heavy tatted
Bald head cold eyes
Pay attention, stupid
He tapped log ash into
Cigarette box trash
Hands rugged and rough
Great deserts full of highways
Barren, arid, brutal
He held Lane’s finger in a vice
Casually, without effort as he
Squirmed and wormed and begged, full
Body efforts failing
H-drained skeleton unable to muster muscle
Angel loosened his grip, to allow
Some circulation mercy (stay on that positive ****
We dodged Victoria crowns and
Made smoke monsters with our lips and
Tongues, watched our sins cloud-crafted
And float fade privately
Want a clam strip? Said Lane
Want a granola bar, want a cookie?
Want a strawberry?
Ya, no, sure, maybe later
We stopped for some disgusting sidegrub
And pressed on into the mountains
Talented feline peaks I peep, winding
Green tree ever-stretch left-right-wise
Central concrete snake swirls higher
Our cabins line the rocky river trail
We joke about fighting bears
The thugs bunch and separate
Breakfast with Chewbacca
The wooks sit in sun, tangled
Wool clump hair strands smell
Angel had complained about taxes
Uncle Sam taking perks
The hippie wooks against
Government and Blue Law
From behind cigarettes **** jar [stuffed])
Injured on the job, collecting
Unemployed, collecting
Tripping, bumming, badly strumming,
Hustling, collecting
Lisa is a toothpick and she has the blowsy jitters
Moon pupils grind tooth, sniff nose hard ball hitter
Saw no shame in her strip pay
I would vouch for her when they tore apart her room
Hipsters half trying and
Lumberjack draft drinkers
No place for thinkers or clean
Shady music belly festival
Drone guards drain cancer
From lit sticks for nic fix
Ritual, and bored means
Twelve hour rain sessions
Can I see your pass?
At my gate
A questioning look
I’m Warren Haynes, he said(?)
Nice to meet you, said sheep
Oh, and Les may come
Walking in here
Terry stood with me through the torrential
The first crowd name I learned
Revisit on the daily
Easy spotted in the thousands
I made stupid jokes
And she
Laughed
At them
The final night of jam
There was sun, there were stars
In my new backstage post I heard Phil and his friends
I made every bus, some
Friends, shot ****
The time type where nothing’s wrong
Volunteers brought water
Marshal’s girl, a chicken kebab
No sitting on the job!
From crowd Terry jester
A stranger gave a moonshine gift
Another, a hug and said well worked
A tie blue dye hippie dippie
Looked at a beautiful woman in a dress
I would totally **** that
**** off
Disgusted
Even he can’t damper
At night I hear a sweet beat
A boots and cats boxer master Rob
The Mortar Mouth
And DJ Caesar
Laid back tracks collaborated
As the Tree narrated
We three held the jam
Classic, dream fulfilled
(Dead ***
Chris shows me nerve ache
In a once stabbed high cheek bone
We guard the stage against
Ghost town robbers trudging sticky fingered
Mister Chicken sips from his confederate
Mug and sloppily asks to sneak, surprising kind
He brings me water and a meal
I pretend to check his wrist and
He hops the wrong fence
The Celtic tattoo on
Mike’s neck reads
My brothers mean everything to me
Latin ink, he tells me of the
Shapely thing in loose skirt
Up the stairs, not a thread
He stands all day on a
Broken back, brightens
Gloomy shifts with smiles
Andy loves his family
And promises to sing his
Grandmother’s favorite
Song when she dies
Every note he practices
Is a jagged pill to swallow
His voice haunts like
Newspaper faces
Or last words whispered
I watch the sun rise as
Magenta melts the mountain mist
And drift off counting constellations
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
They beat my friends’
Faces in the woods
Pinned them down
And slug, slug, slug, SLUG!
A phone call poorly thought, retaliation
Car rolling heavy pulls by, cuts me off in
A gas station as I walk
Home, hey do you know your way
To the hospital, said thugs?
Then
I walked by the hospital several later and
Another auto threat
You got out, and approached
Intimidated,
Bullied
Now, hearing how you
Crawled home with
Soon-to-be-fatal knife plunges
Desperate for family, at the end
I mourn you
Conflicted
I hope you
Found
Peace
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
If you write,
You will realize monstrous things about
Yourself and instead of disappearing they
Will become more eloquent and delicately
Marble carved with years
If you write,
You will hear voices, so many voices
Hypothetical and begging with pain in their
Breath to be made real and feel and **** and die
Only you will see their funeral, know their laugh
If you write,
You will cry oil spills, ***** fruit salad
**** rainbows and beg for grey, murky, bland
The depths pressure crushing; gasping through the highs
The concept mood stretched, you are alive, alive, alive
If you write,
Your shutter flashes double photoed through the day
Will capture the minutia, have your living stuck in past
Endless film rolls overstimulated, document and shelve
Closing eyes, retroactive architect works back
You should write because
To create is to love is to master the manifest
Ink your livelihood eternal, ivory-flesh crumbles and decays
There are those that love the idea of you
You left footprints in the sand
Because
When the silver screaming godgasm hits
You serendipitously and a moment
Feels worth writing down
Things can be right for a while
You will fall in love
Everywhere you go and
Nothing will seem real
You will taste redemption in the
Crunch of an apple or smell wisdom
At the zoo
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
So sad to find a logic late
A natural path overgrown
No one cleared this for me-
Yet it should have been my own
So sad to love a life of late
And ***** at a mirage
To curse a certain sentence
Ever present ‘spite the cause
To have the capability to contemplate an alternate
And thus run the torture film, inner tunes in; tormented
To self-realize levels of dangerous strength
Like wise fruit fermented
Are
The
Memories
Cemented?
So sad to find a passion late
To negate chemical downs and all-round soul frowns
Art could free him from the dungeon depths
But he broke his hands wiggling in chains
So sad to watch a life-loss chosen, growth frozen
A body left behind as our balloon leaves child hand
If only there had been a way to know, I watch me go
I would have liked to be an older man (but can’t swim back to act)
So sad to wake in sweat and fear much more what lies in wait
The paranorm in fullest form flank forces at my gate
Dynamic choices turn to question voices, I enigma
Long to heal and feel as steel despite the fight and stigma
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC