Such a filthy mind I've had
I've longed to conquer
and use flesh as nothing else
Blood would surface
at the though and sight
of *****
and they are *****
and for that I've longed to punish them
encourage and
despise them
But since then
since I've seen my "slut's" candid smirk
and humble eyes
and soft, stimulated shutter
I need nothing but to lowly appreciate
and hold her high above me, as Queen
yet remain in mind as King
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC
"Of course you do" she smiles
and so as do I smile
Happy
and trembling
with each motion of mine she breathes another obscure lyric
to a song I am unfamiliar
and never ask of or about
because, I too, just sang for her a tune
conducted by the index finger
and played with the tongue
For in these songs
words matter little
it's that resounding crescendo
that begs replay
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
On a night I feel has been well lived
met is her sweet becoming gaze
that savory ocular innocence
built to shadow her soft, fluid, longing intent
that whispers,
"I am open to you."
And so she calmly is
and with my head
full of rocks and irrelevance
I unconsciously enter
and sigh
Once, again, twice more
our love traces a metronome
So soon does it become
an inhale
exhaled
I lean into her
limbs aside
in a love extension
a vital push through tension
and the small red brook that follows
flows to fill a page
and rest a mind
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
I shouldn't waste my time,
no matter how invaluable here,
if I've nothing to say now
I will however, in months soon to come,
overflow with statements of ease,
contentment and warmth
The secondary intensity of life
will reflect, will back the primary
and in that time I might discover
which is which
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
The morning that relaxes my strained tongue and eye
is secondarily consumed by corned beef hash,
marijuana and electronics
It wanes to afternoon and night
all without the choking and doubt
that might as well have left itself in her place in bed
or in either of the two kinds of tissue
all too often left on my nightstand
by (or in the wake of) her
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 8:00 PM UTC
The thought came to mind
that I already know all I really need to know
to become and thereafter remain happy
but if that were truly so
the thought would never have come to mind
as the knowledge would already be in use
rendering itself obsolete and invisible
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
I have a fear of the future
and of dollars
and of living without knowing what makes me happy
because dollars are so far comfortable
yet sinful, lazy, and sad
They breed spiteful, poisoned fathers,
rebellious and emulative brothers,
impulsive, confounding sisters,
broken (though hopeful) mothers,
and boys who all too often waste their time
in an unrelenting expansion of perspective
Not only are you trapped in what you Know
you can't Forget
I am either Narcissus
or anchored in the Know
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:54 PM UTC
What beautiful time
What sore, unexpected sight and sound
What an ironic meeting of minds
then eventually eyes
on an unassuming Wednesday in December
What troubling, compulsive imagination
obsession with potential
is seated on my shoulders
How confusing
and how hopeless the thought
that remains thought
And what relevant means of unspoken expression!
What other way to say?
What tail, the veiled magnetism
What relative syntax and emotion
This is fitting, seemingly fateful even
Yet, despite that
this is fruitless pretending
and as such it will remain
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
My skin, shoulders and forehead
vibrate in place
as thoughts of relation cross my mind
Passivity, neutrality, rationality
used to work to keep me sane
but have been, as of late, laid off
in influence of these aggressive,
opinionated,
economic hands and lips
that I find myself seasonally at odds with
I've come to resent spending my youth
staring at the back of student's heads
knowing their skull's restriction
I find it likely the root of this resentment
is an undeserving self honor
inappropriate for this economy's well being
I dare not interfere
just reemploy
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
It's time to make a move
It was so far, I could not write
Let it get better
Stay your hand
I keep getting this feeling
of relief, or hints of happiness
and it is all wrong
There is still blood and
pain to pay
I must make up time
I am guilty and sick
Listen to the true ill lyric in reminder
I am tired
Lying in bed alone though
is not the rest that heals
There is now time to waste
**Don't **** it up.**
That weight is too heavy
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:34 PM UTC