I'll buy you a dozen rose-s,
but God only knows
that flowers could never show
how much you mean to me.

Which man is it (hmm?)
who sits there staring, blankly,
at a powerless television set?
Is it me? So, it seems.

The sound of air being compressed
breaks his speeding train of thought.
His mind often ponders her- though,
this time, it's his own life: what a mess.

It fills my eyes with tears
when I think of all the years
he spent treating you so terrible.
He acted like your heart was paper:
Tear-able.
He thought he could tape it up with lies:
Repairable.
But- tape is translucent,
& the cracks are still, visibly, strong-
so jagged and deep.
& though it's been so long-
one can still see it in her eyes.
I guess not everything
gets healed in time-
or not in the time period
that one would like.

If I may say just one thing:
You are admirable-
through & through.

With eyes so bright
as to dull the, blinding, city lights,
she raced throughout my mind.
It is not entirely clear
why the, mere, sound of her voice
rings like a song, so pleasant with me.
I think, that what it is, I feel
is what the world calls love.
I have no need for these eyes,
if love, truly, is blind.
& I'll let you cut off my ears,
if love needs not hear.
I write all these words
yet, I know it's a curse
because I will always wish
to see & hear her.
She is so vibrant, so kind
& one thing I wouldn't mind
would be spending some time-
growing and withering
with her.

She must've been of the feline species,
because thoughts of her
keep coming back to me.
She purred, soft as a kitten,
when I had something to offer.
She bit like a lion
and told me to get off her- cloud
when I tried to say, aloud,
"I (k)ne(a)d you."
Alas, Lord knows, I'd be lyin'
if I said I hadn't thought of her
the very next day.
I disperse my time and effort,
attempting to ensure
that she is never feeling hurt.
I sit here, rhyming thoughts,
all the while a filthy dog
has his paws in her fur.
It doesn't matter though
because the cat came back
the very next day.
What can I say?
I've always been a sucker
for a hungry lion in disguise
as a lovely little kitten.

After sipping down, another, two ale--,
I seem to walk straight-
yet I still, internally, stumble about.
I possess a clumsy brain
with a face so pale.
--Or... was it stout?
A mind commences crumbling
while he wearily watches.
He writes down his mumbling
& waits for them to mock his
cognitive dissonance
& sensitivity.

I can sense it, you tell the lies.
"Nothing", "Just tired", "I'm fine".
I can see through your disguise.
Baby girl, open up to me.. you are mine,
& I am yours. T'whom you, I adore.
You see, you think you are hidden?
But- I see You, in your eyes.
Has someone auctioned off pain;
you must've accidentally put a bid in..
Because it seems you have won
your fair share of misery.

Roll up a scroll of
that green sh*t that'll make the
weak ones produce drool.

The sound of a key
sliding into its lock.
The old wooden door,
heavily, creaks open.
Two figures stumble in
though they are so close
that thy may perceive them as one.
                    THUNK
The old wooden door shuts,
with such shock.
Their primal temptations,
they begin to elope in.
Thoughtless mumbling:
who is it that knows
who is running across their minds
during this sensual fun?
Skin tingling from a serenade of chemicals.

With my frail fingers entwined,
just- ever, so tight- so firmly,
upon this beloved bottle of wine,
I find the time to rhythmically rhyme
the things- thoughts- upon my mind.

The southern Sun has departed,
duely, beyond the heavens- horizon.
Though, I, merely, must know
that it will soon return.
I shan't remain this way eternally.
I do not feel- do not think- the gods 
wish to slay me down- ****** me.

"This world, surely, 
 has more is store, Crowley-
 for you- (You) have been through
a vast amount of distance 
& witnessed a grand number 
of events."

Seventeen minutes
until my favorite show
comes onto my television set:
That should be just enough time
for a nervous breakdown.

They refer to me as the hermit
as I prefer staying nestled in my den
rather than exploring unknown empires.

Oh, the envy I bestow for her city...
It should be I holding her head at night
while she dreams up something pretty.
I still remember the lights
waving through my rearview mirror
after I dropped her off at home.

Exchanging silver quarter dollars
for caffeinated water.
Too terribly tired
to attempt to inspire
anyone.

Two brawly bald eagles
& a dozen dark crows
peck the fleshy, red meat
off a devastated deer
on the side of the road.
A bird's gotta eat.

Just the sensation of her fingertips
brushing up against my own
is enough to make this nomad
feel very (very) at home.
Oh, the taste of her succulent lips..
I'm deprived- my mind's gone mad.
Oh, the sound of her moan
into the depths of my ear.
Oh, what I would do to be near
her every single night- of my life.
How does she possess such beauty;
inside and out?
The nights without her
cause my mind to stir.
Hoping her heavenly heart
dances, delightfully, through my dream.

Basically- blackbirds' beaks peck,
periodically, away at my mind.
An empty space above my neck:
A brain deeply devoured
that- yet- bears no pain.
Into my dungeon I cower:
a desperate attempt to avoid
attacks on my mind any furthermore.
Panic attacks have my chest sore.

Her kiss- is all I wish- to feel.
I would love that- a great deal.

If there is a creator,
she should be proud.
"Well done, my friend!
   She, truly, is a masterpiece."

It's beginning to feel like I'm choking-
& the situation isn't getting any better.

                                         ...

I aspire to be thought provoking
with my every written letter.

                                        ...

If you do something frequently,
you're bound to get it right-

                                       ...

                                      eventually.

                                       ...

Who knows?

                                       ...

                                     Maybe one day-

                                       I just might.

                                       ...

As for now, I'll continue to fight-
to resist the temptation of drugs
in my life.
                                     ...

Oh, but how very bright-
all the drugs make life...

Does the city crier
ever close his massive mouth?
Look at all the folks..
   hanging on the edge of a wire-
    wondering just, exactly, what it is
     that bloak's babbling on about.
"A drought did befall before the Shire"?!
      Surely- this crier's a liar!
Beloved barkeep.. just one more stout.
  & then, my friend- I am out-
                            this b*tch.

"Art thou undecided
   upon embracing me -
   fully?
  Oh, my dearest maiden!
  My mind continues racing -
   you see?
  I cannot find myself
   on a distant voyage -
   wielding all of my supplies  
   upon this ole' wooden deck -
   if it's not the same trek -
   you wish to take.
Fair maiden,
  I'm willing to put so much at stake.
But- if a brief trip is what you seek -
  my ship will, surely, wreck & sink. "

I dreamt:
       her eyes in front mine.
       & it felt perfectly fine.  
Perfect, rather.
I'm so in love with this woman
& my thoughts are becoming
  so difficult to gather.

Are these slander & slurs,
I seem to be hear-
ing with these two ears?
How, men, may you hold valid opinions
of me as a ***-r -
when our acquaintance
has never been near-
er than a distant planet from here? -
Weird, -
you seem so sure of your facts.
However, it seems awfully whack -
as you've never crossed the back-
of my mind! -
Suggestion, sir: --
if I may concur; -
Stop hasting over others lives!
  If you've already blown through
  seven wives.. - don't you think -
  just possibly -
  that - YOU - might
  be the issue?
Open your eyes!
Take control of your live!
& I'll continue down my own
    the way I always have.
Trust me, friend.
Once you can see,
you may even thank me.
Surely- so much more, you can be!

The car was relatively dark,
besides the dim green illumination
bouncing off the dash.
It reminded him of his mind,
he thought as he spark-ed
a cigarette that he knew
would **** him one day.
There's always been that
dim green illumination
in his head, no matter -
how bad things ever got.
He always remains hopeful
thinking there must be something more
to it all.
He just hopes he can maintain
his optimism.

Cigarette smoke sits, silently;
looming like a cancerous cloud,
caressing each & every corner
of this rather rainy region (room).
Sitting, slightly, similarly -
I sip my creamless coffee,
contemplating consciousness
and similar such subjects.
We sit dissipating in the darkness,
my thousand thoughts & I;
so strange and always astonishing.
Blinding sights & bizarre sounds
go seen and heard -
but never reasonably recorded.
There's constant communication -
but an inability to grasp
and produce the words -
- that feel right.
So, I sit - so habitually -
searching for signals
in the chalky coffee beans below
the last liquid drips of my mug.

But alas -
it's all been bookmarked before:
in the scribblers of scribes,
struggling with the serveral
aspects of their lives.

Two joints & a ball point
pen lie within my jean pockets.
The herbs are a sort of ointment
to these squeaky sprockets
within my mind.
Suddenly, my head begins to shake
& it's hard for me to stand up straight.
I need to get away from this place,
away from these people -
for a moment.

Ninety-two seven;
the smooth jazz I find
myself, blissfully, hearing
is absolute heaven
in my mind.
A vibrant dream wonderland
is nearing.
I hope you can understand
if I don't get back to you.

To me,
prosperity seems improbable
in this frail and fleeting life.
How does one plan for a long future;
with hobbies like cashing **** bowls
& feeling the torque and thunder -
of a sports bike between the lower limbs?
Eventually we all end up six feet under
or burnt to fine ashes -
whatever it is you'd like.

As the smoke rises
I find myself falling -
into a deep depression.
Smoking hurts me..
which hurts her -
which hurts me.
Feeling this way is
less than she deserves...

I feel like dirt.

sigh

I wonder if she will resent me
for dying before her?

He writes while lighting a cigarette..

Feeling so empty;
I attempt to fill the void
with smoke of all varieties.

My addiction, very, may -
well cause all sorts of charades.

I hope you remember me..
Though I know it might be best
to forget me altogether..

Quite the broken and frail man --
but- supposedly- an amazing lover.

Is it unfair of me
to make your body quiver
knowing I won't be able to deliver
any of the long held dreams in your life?

I'd love to make you my wife
but it'd be unfair to you.

Essentially, you're a perfect ten..
& I'm a broken abacus.

I feel I must set you free
because I know you love anchors
but I do not wish to be one in your life.

What is there to say
at this stage?
I, too, hate certain aspects
of my personality.

& you're going to go far, kid.
I don't want to restrain your potential
with my addictive personality
and possibly bipolar brain.

On top of the world
  slightly unsettled
   uncomfortable
    angst/anxious
        numb
       Repeat.

" Doctor, doctor..
My heart has bled, bountifully,
with the deep & dreaded desire!
This boy's been bustling over the girl-
who- on instagram- posts pictures of fire.
There's too much energy- flowing
through the wires- of my mind
when I think of that brunette beauty.
She's smoother than a 12 year Brandy..
It's honestly not that hard to understand,
- you see?
I've admired this woman
since I was thirteen.
I remember walking her home,
half a dozen years ago- on my birthday.
Easy going chit chat-
mind full of riff raff-
trying not to look like an aśs-
cause I always did had a mass-
ive crush on this cup of Brandy.
We were from such different worlds,
Hell, we still are. 
I wish I would've stayed working
at that ****** little bar,
I would have - had I known she was
lurking amongst the crowd-
with a resume.
I'm younger than her; touché.
But- I've learned a lot since the day-
that she and her friends pulled me
a case of beer- on my birthday.

& I'd love the opportunity
to show her the growth;
to make her feel better
than she does-  most days, currently. "

Each and every
minor detail is magnificent
about this woman.

Simply said, she's
completely captivating.

I attempt to avoid aiming my eyes at her
but it's useless- unfortunately.

She possesses the ability to ******
any and all males, if she so pleased.

She is a queen,
& - oh - what I would do,
to be a peasant in her empire!

I'd be content with you
striking thunder unto my eyes
if what I feel - is not her thighs,
like twin snakes,
constricting my skull;
- deafening me.
All noises are null:
I, ignorantly, believe. -
All - but - the voice of she,
- 'tis such a sweet melody.
It's the only noise I seem -
to pay careful, close attention to.
The voice of she
is what I need -
deep within the canal of my ear.
Is this dream too far from near -
possible?
Now, I must ask, do-
you hear the tears I cry:
smashing down- on the floor boards?
Lust -
must've slipped my mother's mind -
whilst explaining to me -
life's lesions on one's aura.

Arise, my son!

Attempt to grasp the day
with such magnificent force!

Let your darkness dissipate
each time I come around.

Love,
The Sun

________


How was that?

Deep in the dark,
your true self will sit.

You may fool the oxygen suckers
but I know your thoughts are thicker
than smuckers jelly.

I, drunkenly, take a load off:

falling to the floor from
cancerous, crippling coughs.

Snow blankets my body.

"Was I ever good en-off (enough)?"

I stuff my mouth
full of moss-y fungus
& within minutes
my mind leaves my body.

Snow blankets my corpse.

In a desperate attempt
to find the right words,
he writes out spewed scribbles;
thoughts that need to be revised
a couple dozen times.
Disastrously, the pen erupts ink
all over his childish rhymes. 
"Oh, no! That was about two dimes-
  worth of thought.."
Ever so distraught:
a thousand thoughts
circumnavigate his mind.

Can we, at least, all smile:
embracing the fact that 
life goes on- long- after you 
or I are gone?

Let's enjoy our little while-
in this chaotic place. 

Can we stop being so vile-
to one another over things like
religion and race?
These are such petty circumstances
to extinct your human brethren over.

Am I wrong?

Structures will tumble, my dear,
far sooner than later.
Just know that, even then
I will still be here:
  admiring you from afar,
  wishing upon every star,
  hoping your eyes will make
   their way -
   my way.

Come home, my queen,
unto the place where the moonlight
attempts to outdo the beauty
of your eyes.
It will never win
  but at least it tries.
Come lavish in the paradise
I have built for the two of us:
our own little enchanted empire.

"It is here, my dear,
   right beneath your nose!
   Heaven knows I have froze-
   the last few winters:
   preparing our fortress,
   awaiting your arrival.
   --
   Will you ever arrive?"

They say sugar is sweet,

  yet it is, nowhere near as sweet
  
  as the residue upon my cheeks.

Her thighs clamped upon my ears:

oh, how I've wished this for years..

A sudden turn of events
in the cavernous minds
of ignorant, hopeful men.

All bridges have been burnt.

Complete halt in the reconstruction.

But - the brain folk need to pass,
(the path of least resistance)
so they enter the canyons 
 beneath their beloved bridges.

Suddenly the mood switches:
"These ditches contain riches!"

A vacation from the run-of-the-mill 
  colorless everyday crossings.

With destruction comes discovery.

Oh.. breathtaking Brandy,
  my brain often wanders.
  I spend time in, deep, ponder
  over whether, or whether not,
  I possess- have got - a spot
  in the back of your mind!
  You are like rain without the clouds,
  unexpectedly falling unto my head.
  I am so envious of the man allowed -
  to lie his body next to you in bed.
  But, I guess-
  I'll continue dreaming, for now,
  filling my stomach
  with liquids and pills
  that empty my head.

On Tinder;
simply to see
whether, or not,
Brandy would swipe
right for me.
It, still, has yet to be..
but a man can dream.

The light shone upon my eyes
every, single, time that she walks by
would leave fierce gladiator's blind.
I may be seen as wise, but-
behind these brown eyes -
I am the guy who will, quickly,
greet his demise -
should I never feel her thighs -
constricting the sounds around my -
ears.
This lust has lived for so many years.
I want, nothing more than,
to whisper in your ear-
    the sweetest nothing's
& the realest something's.

I am a weathered statue,

silently, crumbling away into nothing.

I was built at your base -

  in your magnificent presence,

  in rains falling, under leaves rustling,

  beneath the heavens

  that are you.

Gah! The thought of your face -

  forces a smile unto my own.

  --  

In the past, the depths of my skull
 
have been unsettlingly hazy.

But, smoke only lingers so long.
 
It's as though - I have pulled -

  a plug from my ears 

  and, so swiftly,

  the smoke dissipates above.

 I guess all I really needed

  was a gentle shove - from myself.

--

To be the man for her - would be

to have, oh, so much wealth.

Clouds-,
 like layers of paper mache
upon the outermost atmosphere-,
 block the central Sun's rays
from reaching my skin- and retinas-
here - on Earth.  

"The nest in which I rest -
  would be so much more bless - ed
 with your head nestled - next to mine,"

  I reckon - whilst transcending a 'Rest Inn,'
  -  in a deep day dream session.