Was it not I
Who tried to die
Nine
Lives
Three are spent
And here I lie
My third grave.
I fell slave to love
To behave
Elocution by electrocution-
See my eyes
Touch my hair
I may breathe men for air
But mine eyes
Have seen the light
To the unenvyable cry
Of my plight
Slight of hand;
What a trick it is to die.
Maggots feast upon my eyes,
I would've rather burnt:
Little jew, little jew
What has Herr Doktor done to you
Chimney stacks
Bellow black;
I do not do
I do not do
The black shoe
I've been living in
For nearly two years of suffering
My ailing mind
Blind to happiness.
deranged:
A form of estranged from reality.
For now I fly
High as a vulture
Hung in the sky,
The Zoroastrian carcass
Beneath my circle;
i cannot die,
Without that vulture
A phoenix become
As bright as the Sun
And I will never die
Cheated of six lives
it is not fair
so yes
i eat men like air.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
my gift.
the greatest gift of all.
You cannot give it back.
and it is not easy to give
to sacrifice
my gift
to you is time.
a part of the only life
i know i get,
this one chance.
and this present
i give to you
to do with as you wish.
but beware:
i can only give so much
you cannot give it back.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 7:57 AM UTC
I don't care.
It's that simple.
And as much as I try to,
Caring just isn't what I do.
So I don't.
I don't care.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
My little ray of sunshine:
Your sunny smile, your sunny face.
This golden train of hair,
That follows you place to place.
Your beauty so fair,
Your will - strong,
There's nothing you can't do.
Your fight to care,
Can do no wrong,
Beauty shining true.
So to the girl with the golden heart;
And golden hair too:
Keep a pure golden heart,
And to yourself always be true.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:28 AM UTC
My words fail me
Most when I need them
Like a babe, dumb to speech,
A mouthful of nothing.
My words fail me
Most when I'm with you
Because our souls pray "Namaste"
And never stop talking.
And my words truly fail me
When I can see what you want me to say
And all that I can mutter,
Might as well be thrown away.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:24 AM UTC
Cigarette most foul:
Burnt lips,
Bitter kiss.
Last action ere bed,
Left for dead.
G-d have mercy;
My body a temple
And this my incense.
Immense
My pulsing temple
Thoughts forgotten
It's a lost prayer
Uttered under hushed whisper,
Cigarette most foul.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
It all began one crisp, Spring night
When I had a secret to share.
And once I did, you didn't take flight,
You stayed, stayed because you care.
And though I left and grew,
For a year I missed you so,
And I think it's time you knew:
You stayed, but I had to go.
Through all the pain I ne'er showed;
The drugs and drinks and men,
Through some dark times you don't know
You stayed now, stayed then.
So to you my friend, my dearly beloved:
I wish naught but joy and love,
I promise for you I'll stay,
Even to watch from above.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a **** lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
How seemingly mystic
The conservatory ideas,
engraved into our existence
developed into passions
leading to so much.
How seemingly confusing it can all be;
the cyclic, linear process of life.
Neither dead nor living.
There is only self.
Only one thing I can be sure of.
Self...
whatever that may be.
But that frightens me:
Only self,
myself
only me and again...
i'm alone in the dark.
How selfish existence is...
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
It's almost that time of year again,
When I have to say goodbye...
and you're still nowhere to be found.
I want to just run away and never come back,
drug myself into a wondrous stupor
Numb
from your mutilating grief.
"I'm done mourning"
I keep saying.
I'm not.
I haven't even properly started...
Maybe I should join you...
In the great abyss.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:57 PM UTC