She's angry boys
looks like we're burning fast
"lighter noise"

There goes Larry
he was always toasty
and with that drink,
I think it's a beautiful death

Here we go
into the purse
I wonder, where she'd forget us this time
or if we'll soak up her drunken
thoughts

It's 5 am, have some mercy on your lungs!
Oh, I am the last one
struggling to stand up straight
in that crumpled pack
half awake, half dead,
swinging between sleeplessness
and drunkenness

I welcome my fate
I want to dilute in her breath
I want to kiss her with sunrise
I wish I my nicotine would mend her thoughts
I wish my filter, would cleanse
that stress
I want her to exhale cremated
bits and pieces of me
with the crisp breeze of dawn

Alas, I am burning
along with her awareness
along with her energy
she kisses me
one last time
I burn
I burned
along with
her night
Oh,
I burned

Chaotic neutral lighthouse sirens.
The spirits of sailors lost returning from sea.
Ethereal beings and what not.
Insert sappy and haunting intro here.

It's 1941 and we are writing love letters,
Tucking them into a big oak tree
To retrieve on our way to and from school.
Cherry cokes and late night smoke breaks.

My downstairs neighbors are fighting,
And I'm watching snow land on the ocean.
I don't feel special.
Uncharted waters and peeling wallpaper.


"Vinyl is better baby,
Trust me,
You must have lost your edge."

Drop Dead

Sometimes, I just crave poetry
I crave writing it
And I crave reading it

Although I may not have any ideas in my head
I’ll get on my computer
And let the ideas flow
Into a poem

Sometimes I’ll look through
The books of poetry I have
And find something that suits my mood
And sometimes I’ll even emulate it

I feel like poetry is a living thing
You can connect with it
And share your feelings
There is so much more to poetry
For me
That is hard to explain
But I’m sure other poet’s understand
What I’m trying to say

I sit here tonight writing to you,
but I know you'll never see it.
I'm here holding onto everything that we had,
everything that we could be.
I wake in tears as the stars say goodbye,
it reminds me of us and what is gone.
It reminds me of our lost songs.
It reminds me of the memories.
It reminds me of everything we once had,
everything we could be.

I have something I love to do
Something that gets me up
Every morning
That I love, that I care for

It brings me life, reminds me why
I smile even when it's hard.

I am made for love
        simply to be swallowed
inside flame
but without burning
too crisply
         feeling just east of
too much pain
I would **** it all down
I would take it all in
I would ingest that
         subtly powerful potion
fling inhibition
to the winds
run through storms
and swim through
          murky, wild ocean
I would don both wings and
antler, or horns
just to show you my
            animal instinct
I would sniff you out
in a hidden thicket
of thorns
even if physically
it's distant
I would sway my hips
join the gypsies
             in their dance
I would get naked
in the river,
hypnotized by the moon's
            seductive trance
I would cross the
longitudinal division
to cup my hands
around your face
slice through *******
         with quick precision  
if it threatened
our sacred space
I would take my sword
and cut any signal
that destroyers
              laid in path
I would challenge
the logical probabilities
of looking into your eyes
or placing my hands
upon you
(so **** what if it defies
                the math)      
The glorious point
of what I am saying
as I trip myself
through you and
fully live it
is that my stars ignite
the power
of this
liberation of
            tightened,
connected spirit
and I am not giving up
I am not succumbing
to the sirens' call
              of demise
Just watch me
bound out
from behind
the slippery
precipice
and see
my spirit rise

She kisses the boys and girls
that pay the most attention.
The boys play with vapor
and her girls play with tension.
I wish I was the only one
that she will decide to touch
but I am who I am
and, in a way, that is too much.

Sawblade-sunflower petals
wrap around an earthy cushion,
and the humidity hangs in the air
as her beige body is crumpled
and I feel too sober, pushing.

Baby yellow falls apart,
in her hair the flower starts
to trickle onto sheet and pillow,
decorating the absences
that define how hollow
she and I have felt before --
******* like an endangered species
on the killing floor, I whisper once,
I whisper sweet, "Don't you wish
that we didn't meet?"

She kisses the boys and girls
that give the most attention.
I played with vapor
and she played with tension.