When grease turns, kettles scale over
Rusted innards show, red in the ground
T, TB, AA, PSA
What can I do?

When you catch the musk of defeat
Bleeding out your crusted dearest
How soon before the years since stutter?
I forgot them already

I can't be what I want to be, without your hateful consent
Tides of cradled love and rotten ****
Wash over me and I
Take it to heart

When it all loses spirit because no whim is trusted
From a signing bearded beast
When you realise it's not going to stop
Until we all fall down the molehills
Fastened and swinging
The only firm hand I ever knew

When it comes back, sweeps your Victorian progress away
Leering, you're not recovering anymore
You get to call yourself it now
You're the addict's child
Slip in that and curdle.

My dreams are painted clean
Tucked and trimmed by a sewing machine
My mother's face is wrinkle free
And smiling for eternity.

My father's voice is soft and kind
My brother's eyes are sparkling blind
My sister's arm is thick and strong
My family line is clean and long.

My pencil fertile, conscious itself
Collecting brilliance without my help
My headache gone, my nostrils clear
Breathing sea air gushing near.

Inspiration well stocked, character for sale
My clothes well spun like a handmaid's tale
Garden promise behind shut doors
This is what my dreams are for.

If we all died before we fell old
Consumed as we blush ripe
What would perish with us
But mold and setting mud?

Life could not be long
Nor sophisticated, for
All that thought never born beyond
The days of cocked feathers.

Our homes the wild trees
Burned or spared by our caprice
Sleep on the moss a groan
Summer in the morning the dawn

Tousled hair a-spring with salt
And the hoary sweat of the night
Eyes sharp and deep
Like pools in frothing rivers unsettled.

Muscles taught in conflict not against the world
But green competition, passion the reward
And pleasure, in sinew pushing, grabbing,
Taking what is Mine.

Our faces our identities
Our bodies our manifestos
Statements simple, ideas cut
To have sharp edges and grate at one another.

Night full of the juicy roars
Of fiery eyes consuming lovers claimed
In battle, ****** conflict
That mean nothing to time, nor for it.

Her smile a sugar suggestion
her ******* her belly her hipsherlips
Her lover at my feet.
Unembarrassed, unrelenting, undefined stones in his dead eyes.

And when lines would start to settle
And sense harden
When certainty dies like an old dog
There is no long goodbye, no sagacity gained

You cry to your last, terrified as you pass
Lost in pure droplets shed from a face
As its teeth grow too far while the mane retreats,
And the soul is killed for it.

Cruel, to let a who live past that
To watch who's spirit
Wash away and see the tide return
Gushing wine in your arms
That's gone dull and bitter from the Autumn left
Too long, too long,
Lived too long.

A bed in an ICU
Is just an electric chair with cushions
Your broken feet charred and inert
Twitch in your sleep, like you're dreaming of getting up
And telling me you're going to stay
For the memories we'll still make together

And when you're awake
I almost wish you wouldn't be
But I smile like breaking glass
Waiting for the after, the endless without
And you talk for me, as I don't

You're scared, but you can't show it
Because my peace always came first for you
But that won't be much longer
Your full stop is my comma
But there won't be a rhyme tomorrow

What you mean to me
Will be broken into a thousand words
That will fade, like the sound of your voice
To mean nothing, the world you still walked in
The soil I can't make grow again

No spring will set in your chest
But I'll have to greet the winds that take you
To think without the dust
And meet the heart that's left behind.

Beautiful woman,
Write yourself in the orchid air
With your flowering hair
And your well matched strides in white trainers.

One-of-a-way woman,
Take your time in the daisy weeds
Or the yellow breeds
You pluck with thumb and four fingers.

Sighing woman,
What did you see in the sycamore creek?
Did the gurgling mold froth pinch your cheek
You stirred with kashmir hand?

Beauteous day, crossed the sky with silver trails
In freckled knots of rebirthed trees
And Summer shown in baréd knees
Of beautiful women in swaying silk dresses.

If paradise had a name
A prism of the tongue
I would speak it to you, and hear
The tinkling laughter that bless'd the air

And clouds would hear my poem
And spread it through the rain
And eager faces turned to the spring
Would feel my words also

Chuckles showered 'cross the green

Sunny minds would face each other
And grinning, speak the words of meaning
What charmed thoughts would dot the village squares,
And sighing fields of this land

You'd bring that be
A conduit of mercy
A funnel of good will
What wonderful eyes you have that
Look into the skies with me