We need more pens
Why do we need more pens?
Because with these pens
We will write cool things
We can write poems:

Poem: Not Tangible
Space can't be ****** with
What is tangible
Humans are tangible
We can touch,
We can take
We don't need; we want
We want because we are
attached to the touchable beings
Being is hard; letting things be is hard
Being me means free
Free me
Please let me be  
I don't feel tangible.

you have not held anything close to your heart since that night.
you hellhound. you dog of war. you *******. you absolute fool.
when did a knife to your throat become your hail mary?
when did the blade become your prayer?
justice, oh, they talk about justice
and it makes you want to laugh
there is no justice in this world, only
judgement.
this gun in your hand is the reckoning that you have needed for years.
you are his punishment.
(and, for all your sins, is he yours?)

One way that way no other way will do;
It doesn't have to be that way some say it
as they go, but that way's the way for me
the only way I know.

Monday wishing Friday as I dream my life away.

There's a calm before the storm is due
a time to get things done
before the pressure drops below
the setting of the sun.

I'm heading in
my head is held up high,
but it's only ****** Monday
it makes me want to cry.

From where I lingered in a lull in march
outside the sugar-house one night for choice,
I called the fireman with a careful voice
And bade him leave the pan and stoke the arch:
‘O fireman, give the fire another stoke,
And send more sparks up chimney with the smoke.’
I thought a few might tangle, as they did,
Among bare maple boughs, and in the rare
Hill atmosphere not cease to glow,
And so be added to the moon up there.
The moon, though slight, was moon enough to show
On every tree a bucket with a lid,
And on black ground a bear-skin rug of snow.
The sparks made no attempt to be the moon.
They were content to figure in the trees
As Leo, Orion, and the Pleiades.
And that was what the boughs were full of soon.

I did not bring you into the world,
But I was happy that you came,
I took you home one afternoon,
Took pictures…..and gave you a name,
And you where my baby,
Dayenu……that was enough,
And like all things God gives you,
Someday…You must give up,
How blessed I was to have you,
To love and watch to you grow,
I did not bring you into the world,
But, I was there to watch you go.
© B L Costello 2016

8am solo endless drives in
Purgatory
Will you remember me?
Will you still say say my say my name
Or have I disappeared into all these varying shades of 8am
Have I become the way I looked at him?
Will I fade here? Or will I reignite only to show you up
Turn up and burn up I know you never wanted me
Just wanted the person you imagined me to be
Now all I see is the white lines of this highway
Purgatory
Will you remember me?
Will this be
Forever?
8am fade out good so slow
I'm nobody's baby so nobody needs to know
My glass bloodwork and hazy brain
I know you don't see me the same
Purgatory.

Chocolate silk
satin  smooth
every bite
melts within

Finger licking
temptation
but a touch
I give in

Scent a taste
fills the head
feel the senses
reel and  spin.

But a glimpse -
happiness
all cream 'n  soft
I begin

Sweet trail
on the lips
on laughter lines
almond skin

Oh some more
the heart pleads
and there I sink -
in chocolate whim