He was the dark pit at the bottom of a nightmare
the coffee grounds of something that was once warm
that is now only bitter and cold
the stale cigarette **** at the bottom of a bottle of blood and turpentine
a swollen pulp of flesh covering rotting bones
the stinch and stink and decay of death without the comforts of the last kiss
the broken heart hidden in the devils tears
the sin beyond redemption
beating in an angels wing
a thread ripped out of time broken and frayed
forgetten by dreams and love and hope
drifting through nothing and nowhere
lost between eternity and birth and sleep
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 7:49 PM UTC
We dress in all black when we’re apart,
Two walking shadows trying to escape the dark.
You told me you wanted to feel something,
And you thought cutting yourself open would be a start.
You’re too young to feel this empty,
But what is one to feel without a heart.
Love never told us what to do, but your friends did.
All of the people who couldn’t keep a lover,
Seemed to give the only advice that you listened to.
I tried to bring you to your senses,
But your hearing and our vision seemed to fail.
I said that we should take a break,
And you just told me to go to hell.
I’ve burned to this very day,
My heart too heavy for any scale.
Our home became just another house,
One side of the closet cleaned out.
My patience and hair are running thin.
I just want to be back with you again.
I threw everything away that you left,
Except for our memories, and only the best.
The pills couldn’t rid my mind of you,
But you’re long gone,
And all you left me with was the song
That was your laughter
And the art
That was your smile.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
Eroding brick wall
all that remains
refracted, fading
fishermen shadow
red dawn’s early light
brackish still water
shocked violent green
seeps from the desert
to be subsumed
by an unrelenting sea
restless dreamers rise
muscle sturdy pangas
into the churning tide
seeking quicksilver
at the continental edges
returning boats ride low
the shrinking horizon
race to safe harbor
cold beer on ice
under palm palapas
in the restaurant
a young man
shows off tuna
half as tall as he is
to admiring tourists
like me, seeking
the deep, slow burn
salt, jalapeno, lime
a fitting end to this
unraveling dream
Pueblo Mágico
of “no bad days”
walls of contention
in a fractured land
will never separate us
one margarita, two
another raised in defiance
of those who would try
to confine and define
free-range spirits
the Pacific touches
this contiguous shore
from equator to pole
we could catch
a clockwise current
follow Polaris up North
arrive transformed
magnetically charged
disparate souls fused
together bound
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
depleted
of energy,
a weight of gold
upon my heart,
its heavy dull luster
pushes down hard
squeezing out
the light
suffocating
my staccato
of breath
I crouch
quietly
in the brush,
the next step in
my process
pending
a dense rock
of pendulum
swaying time
tick ticking
in my blood
cells reaching
the boiling point
just shy
of spilling over
into froth
waiting for
this conundrum
to unravel,
my inner tigress
about to unfurl
her heart
to leap
and pounce
from
within
into the
tight
white
of blinding
snow, the silent
storm of
the unknown
forever
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
go forth through the night
not uttering a sound
keep your head low
and face to the ground
don't tell them your name
or date of birth
bank account info
or how much your worth
don't offer your palm print
or the color of your eyes
too much info
and everyone dies
the gathering has begun
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:00 AM UTC
You never looked back when you said goodbye
you left me alone and unable to cry
My heart did burst and fell to the floor
I whispered your name as you shut the door
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 9:56 AM UTC
*haunted by transparent tawny remnants
from which i sprang
i etch away earthly layers
desperately trying to un-remember
whilst retaining wisdom's splendor
wrapped in your arms once again
©2016janetaylor
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 8:55 PM UTC
*When winds at night on windows roar
wax runs out dies candle's flame
you would hear a knock upon door
a familiar voice calling your name.
Don't respond nor open the eyes
the voice is keen over winds' howl
grows it louder its pitches rise
scaring even the brave barn owl.
Pull the blanket up your head
you are safe so long you hide
lie dead quiet not move on bed
with mom asleep by your side.
Between the pause your fears mount
if is a chance to be found out
one two three the calls you count
but count it right leave no doubt.
Three times the voice would call your name
for it has no power to do any more
but move onto where dies a candle's flame
and a child is awake behind closed door.*
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC