no, i don't have a clue
You're the smart one.
you add me you subtract me
I'm a problem.
you go to recess
i'm stuck to this desk.
what is me minus you
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
I lost you like the trees lose their leaves.
I went through the seasons, I felt all the things.
With rain and sun, I've grown some,
but I couldn't grow a new you.
snapping branches remind me
that everything moves on.
It all comes, it all leaves.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
it’s too much and not enough to know
that love is just a peace of mind; a piece of time -
that the rocks on the ground and the rain in the sky
are more real than the idea of you and me.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC
Wine stains the sand
we smile, light and
quiet; the clouds
paintbrush pass.
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
I don’t believe I’ll ever
understand – or forgive or forget – or even know how
he was never, never going to leave me. Yesterday.
And how
he is never, never going to be
with me. Today.
This second, I will
make a little cup of tea
And try not to spill it
or burn my tongue. And dream of the ease
of many tomorrows from now.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
I lived in a refrigerator
from 1969 till now
It was cool to say the least
(It was cool to say the least)
Man, I've sat
hands folded, chillin'
in a ziplock bag like a lump of mud.
Everyone else was picked out
peeled and fried and ******
everyone else
died, in the mouths of their
lovers, or perhaps it was rapists,
the bedroom, the kitchen --
I see no difference from where I am a-sittin'.
Oh, the refrigerator,
oh, my
real-life satire-of-society
you make me want to be eaten
but you make being eaten so
much like death in the eye.
and I
don't know.
Why.
I like to believe
I am more than a sack of goo to be tossed down the throat
I pretend to breathe
like the refrigerator
I fist-banged on that hard as wood center
between my ******* like a man-gorilla
I was told that's where my heart lives
all cozy-sweet in my chest, oozing out love fresh
like vanilla, but losin' flavor
every second, every day
(every second of every day)
Why does it feel so far away?
Why does everything I want to know
feel far away?
Everything I want is in a *** boiling.
Everything I want is in a ***
boiling two houses away.
Everything I want is inside someone else's mouth.
Won't you wait for me. Give my
pouch a squeeze. I'm spoiling. I'm
only
runnin' on borrowed air, the electricity
of the refrigerator
is the only thing that holds me, and it is always
chilly.
Yes, I want pity. And what's worse, I want it
however you'll have me.
But first.
I wanna stick my finger through
right into my heart blood
And break off a piece to
chew before anyone else does
It would be cool to say the least
(It would be cool to say the least)
I lived in a refrigerator anyhow because
when I was 13 I looked in the mirror
and straight-dead knew
my place in the refrigerator
cheeks wrapped in plastic sheets
body-fat wired in lingerie like ham to-go
served hot on Thanksgiving Day tablecloth lace
(Watch half the male population get out their knives
and pour gravy
all over my baked face)
I understand there's some new age
concern that I'll just
waste in the
refrigerator
but man, I am a product and I am made
to be consumed
and the refrigerator
has been the only one there
to keep me.
And if it's a kill-box, I owe it my life then
in the name of my country, the economy,
and world peace, here I am.
Late 30's, about to expire in the refrigerator
Everything I want is fuzzy and far, always
two houses away
Everything I want reaches its hand to the thing sitting next to me.
Everything I shared hopes with has succumbed to mold
I figured I would help society by making room
and be the one to slay the beast
(Drop your conviction and join the feast.)
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Sore, soaring – blood-rush;
leaving my veins and brains disturbed
yet soothed over,
once more, like salty sea
soft tease on **** shore.
The constant flow of the come and go activity,
becoming...
the calming
stillness.
It is not silence though I come to take it as so...
the sound is rich though hushed; velvety.
To me, you're
when a cigarette tastes like an everything
bagel
after a warm, warming
cup of Spearmint tea.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 1:11 PM UTC
Everything about you is miraculous.
I have no words to give you
because they all taste like apples,
when they should taste like pomegranates.
It is all too generic, nearly – spiritless
to call you beautiful.
I am merely
existing in this dazzling
vapor of mania, that I
so clearly see
buzzing mad about you like hornets.
Only psychotic pills can describe what you mean.
Everything makes sense, in that, it doesn't.
I want to tell you all my dreams. And somehow communicate
that I think you are far more staggering
than I could ever articulate.
Isn't it a sick shame
that those – I mean those
wickedly gorgeous human beings, those with souls
heavy and earthy as antique clocks,
souls like tree moss
living for ages on wood sheds;
souls warm and tormented
like voodoo shops and dreamy sunsets;
souls like ruptured stones,
in-grown toenails and volcanoes –
those who,
should take compliments
and tuck them away on the wide shelves of their hearts,
instead –
handle them like steaming acids.
I only wish you would
take more than a kiss from me.
but I feel content
also obscene and distracted;
listless yet
serene – when we
share a close space.
The aesthetic I find, I cannot ignore
nor quite place.
It smokes. It intoxicates.
I want to describe the spices in your curves,
(surely you must know) – the organic magic of them
and how they flow, sway-swaying
gentle stream, always waiting to be
dipped into.
But, there is
an energy far more hypnotic than lips or hips,
it is familiar yet new, and constant
and constantly
enticing,
beneath your skin, behind your tongue
somewhere twisted within
your twisted brain –
it gives me
sharp visions of grandeur, like African whiskey;
I can hardly come back from it.
Your dark eyes beaming in the moon rays
like violet plums chilling in water.
Sweet hell.
My heart hurts so brilliant.
When you are near
I thank the stars I that I am, too.
I close my eyes and I am a poet.
But once, as is inevitable
you go; I am helpless
as I am when the clouds move.
The satisfaction I felt
evaporates, in seconds,
just as it came.
one, two, three...
I feel directionless
and ordinary
in all the sober haze.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
Daylight needles up to my window,
smiling bright, jaunty, and annoying.
I tell it I am not
participating today.
I'm just doing showers and sleep.
Avoiding human life and signs of mirrors.
Noshing away cold french fries, sipping last night's wine
in my boy-shorts, favorite Spider-Man tee
and signature vampire demeanor.
With achy bowels and a mind like a gallon jug –
The people-sounds outside are heavy
and I, irrationally,
feel judged by every living thing.
Still, I will not leave my bed
like a loyal pet of a grandmother.
There will be other days to
adventure on,all young and fresh, I'm sure
maybe tomorrow I'll break the slump.
but for now my blistering eyes won't stay open;
My whole mouth tastes like a dump
and this back of mine feels like torn paper.
Muscles sink to dust, and lay quiet as a lamp.
Hours slip by. Only Netflix talks to me.
My body dims down like the laptop across my chest.
Yet my thoughts
surge me on
and away like ******
And in my mind, I feel shiny, worth-while
and suddenly beloved
and famous.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
Husky honey-whispers
escape her lips like smoke.
My stomach goes all hurly-burly
and I forget how to use my hands.
I bite my tongue. I bite my lip. My eyes implode.
I imagine I blappity-zap
a-twistin' and a-turnin' into some 1940's cartoon fella
hair black and slicked back,
heart poppin' out my chest like an alarm clock.
All I can do is stand around, pretending I'm not
getting drunk, just by – staring
at her.
She can't see me like I see her.
I want to stomp up on the dining table,
then burn the kitchen sink down
and scream ****** hell to the land and sky
for making her and I
as things not made for each other.
She plays around with her mouth on mine.
She holds me like a sister, and kisses me like a pet.
I melt with every moment I get.
She will never love me.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC