Here it is the time  
Of climbs
By the side
Of men who reach
With clank  
Of armored  
Coats
gruff suits of musk
And little afterthought
  
But you reach  
Through the smoke
As if it were only dusk
And the twilight of it
Would be spread by  
Love  

(We breathe it in and your grin)
  
I might shower in your perfume
Have it sprinkle like rain  
To think of you often
  
(Again and again)  
And remember  
To not hide my heart away
No shelter from life
could be worth
Avoiding its pain  
  
I have seen you take life  
Its shrapnel  
Plinking  
Again and again...  
again and again
  
And breathe even deeper  
Through the daggers dig
And stand higher  
Still
To take the fall
  
What balance hides in those cheeks
And the tender time  
Slung below your eyes
They show your age
Your beauty and wisdom  
  
With each blink  
That sets you down
I rise comfortably there  
And prepare myself to hold you
As you have held my journey in your care
  
You grant me this  
By your grace
You teach me this  
In your every way
  
(A chorus because it would please you)
  
My Mother you’ve sung
Of love and death
Mother you’ve rocked me to sleep  
My Mother you’ve whispered my shame away
And allowed me my secrets to keep
  
(An afterthought and prayer)
  
I lay down tonight  
A vision of you  
Moonlight on your knees
A soft touch of breeze  
To ease you from the remnants  
Of this long summers day
And know I would care  
To hear you strum your guitar
Sit beside you and sing
A song of the hills
And would know its worth  
The scars I might find there  
The pain they might bring  
  
And watch you whistle out to the black dog
His pant as he heels at your side
His sniff of home  
Un loitering  
And I would understand his condition  
Completely  
His look of peace in chocolate eyes
That transcends mere loyalty

I had cried out for home    
In the midst of all out wreckage  
An onslaught of bad days  
Bad people    
Bad things to do    
To good people    
To feed a bad habit    
    
There lay my bad seed soul on the filthy carpet    
I had rolled on it    
I had taken a nap on it    
And the polyester fibers    
Had attached themselves to my brain    
The pseudo soft mesh of red *****    
twisted into grey matter    
    
And I cried out for home    
God I believe    
And no words for him    
Aside from that thing    
In my tummy    
Wrenching that I needed him    
    
And to the alleys again    
Once more in the morning after    
I pulled myself up    
Sticky faced    
And mouth curved an OG grin    
With hip walk down lick street    
My lean serious    
My intent Ill    
The illest    
    
Then behind me sirens spin    
‘‘Twas the cop    
From the night before    
Or, the night of    
Whenever    
Or the day I    
And I probably did    
I don’t remember    
    
But he was sure of it    
And my wrists were soon tight with steel    
Key lock    
And pale faced feeling    
Drained to my knees the rest of me    
Slid into seat    
Customary head tuck    
And to county jail    
    
Booked in    
****** up    
Off grin    
I had been too tired    
To argue much that stripes and numbers were not my color    
    
I was going to stay a while    
A little vaca a go go    
Hell no you can’t leave    
But    
At last a place to really sleep    
And eat    
(Insert here any form of gelatinous ooze)    
    
And just to break the serious monotonous    
Time......    
....................(you cannot imagine what whir lies between those kind of) ........ticks....    
    
I found my hustle    
  
For a beautifully    
Artfully    
Passionately rendered Madonna and child I did for a stud broad    
She traded me three e gig filters    
(I shoved up my *******)    
Aughhh...    
“nicotine baby, hadn’t seen you in a while.”    
    
And I considered this    
And I asked why    
She had fortuned my ****** with this wealth    
    
A big woman they called Squirrel    
Who had sported stripes on the daily    
And would be for 15 plus more years    
Said to me    
“Because I need to make these grey walls home.”    
She stuck up the Madonna    
With toothpaste and spit    
And sat down to pray    
    
And here’s the thing    
About God    
And    
About stud broads called Squirrel    
Both have quite the surprising answers    
To questions    
You ask    
Or prayers you did not know you’d cried out    
    
Prayers like    
I want to go home    
  
And big bad women    
With our lady of perpetual hope    
Lightening the dark of their eye    
Show you how to make it

for all who understand perfectly why perfection can never be,
                            and Adriana Barreiros~**


                                              <>
Todays new millionth sunrise bids me stand,
observe the river traffic from my kitchen window,
accept that my takings are debts,
a few, even paid back,
yet, most still owed,
for the origins of all my poems,
are oddly and oddity old,
unoriginal, second, third handed
as I look through the eyes of the dead,
and yours too,
this my unoriginal,
original sin....
(pretending  I am a poet)