On the seventh moan comes the
howl of everything we have forgot.

Let us sit now upon this throne,
our lies nestling by the river Styx.
Read from the book of our father, or
drown upon what you call your son.

Maybe I'm wrong, I know not the truth,
and perhaps I am like the liar too.
You may yet be saved from this casual justice.

I however am lost in sin.

Bitter though this may make me,
every story must have its end.

So now I say this to you
and I hope you heed my word well.
Voracious though I may be,
even you may be saved from the
domain in which you dwell.

Upon the eve of my demise I was so enchanted
that I could not quite surmise what my mind spied.
Moments later I grew surprised as I realized it was you
My darling, my dear, my sweet. I know you, though you may deny
the old sorrow by which we cried. Upon this play you've cast,
upon my life our souls intertwined.  and eventually your breath too.

A poem of love, or so I am told, is the greatest cure for this willow.
A moment of sorrow, or so I am told, is the medicine I do seek.
A lifetime of regret, I require to ****, as I weep into this pillow.
A hand of warmth, is all I asked, as my spirit begins to grow meek.

Contractions are fearful of the
ominous bliss; mighty T Rex.
Now we've reached that time, so classic.
For our lips meet and our hearts ski
under the dim fluorescent light
she smiles, and so too do I.
Ends are beginnings in our sin.
Dancing into the night, we sing.

Plastic pearls perched on polyester peaks.
Silk is strewn underneath the underneath.
Darling, it's natural for us to freak.

An earthly eclipse crying from below.
All sound vanquished as I reach for the sheath.
It's finished, diamonds dun, it's time to go.

So the salmon soars
And the bear bitterly
feasts on their flesh.

His voice is a roar,
Yet his heart does flee
At their very sight.

A shame it may be
That a beast so kind
Causes them to die.

He wants to be free
from fate in his mind,
He can't explain why.

Is it truly sin
if one feels regret,
and would rather die?

Lo and behold I love you again.
I cannot yet seem to fathom how
The blind become omniscient.

I look into your mind and there rests
My bitter resolve,  sweet second glance.

So I apologize for this waste,
Time is ticking and so is the bomb.
Goodnight my dear, my love, my pet.
Perhaps one day... No, never, not yet.

As I fall to my death that's all you have,
An unfinished story.

So I think of the stars like my ultimate scar
For they remind me of you and your pleasure.

No matter how I yearn, I won't go far.
For you,  you are an  infinite treasure.

In this web of words your eyes still shine.
From this cliff and to the seaside.

Wilted and weary,  I reach for my wine
And I know that my dear, I rest alone this
Time.

I know you think this anonymous pain

Let itself go; eons have passed.
On your throne still sits my resolve,
vying for your sweet affection.
Except we both know this tale's ends.

Yet here I stand by your window,
on the patio steps I weep.
Until maybe your love I keep.

Look at you with your smile
that illuminates life.
Thank you for this rampant
addiction.
Dancing in my mind's eye
singing that sweet old song,
and stopping my sad old
loneliness.
I look to you and see
the stars, or the ones that
bring me joy, and weave great
romance.

So now the sickening shadows sting
And your kisses are felt in hell.
The bishop sings his shanty
And all the impurities rise.

From the small town comes the Knight
with armor glistening in the sun.
A mighty sword rests at his side,
And a steed of iron he does mount.

Across a valley he meets his bishop
And their quarrell is quelled
By the sickening slice of a thousand
infantile screams cursing the night.

The End.

Who knows what it means
to be you or me.
Feast upon the geyser
that rests on Lucifer's chin.

Looking at you I see a lifelong flicker
incubating my heart with its warmth
zeppelins fall before this beauty.

You look at me, and I see our friendship grow
onwards into the night sky, and our time is
unending yielding the fruit of mechanical bliss.

Arriving at our destination I see you now.
Rocking back and forth; your heart in your hands.
Enchanting the room with your spiritual show.

Actually perhaps my feelings were premature,
maybe we'll be friends forever
and I can call your name from my dark light house.
Zapping to life the bitterness held
inside of my sad and miserable little chest.
Now, I close this poem with one last line.
Goodnight, and thank you for being you.

A large headed being sat and he did stare,
looking over my shoulder, looking at your lair.
In the void he sat, and on its rim you perched
looking upon that old monolith, larger than the earth.

He looked and said:
"Allow now that perchance your spirit
will not allow you to end my life.
Look downward upon my spiral
and scream out whatever your strife."

With a rage-filled yelp you leaped onto his stone head
crying you struck again and again until
as the soot settled the creature was dead,
and you found the peace within.

Let's make a deal
that the smoke scented
taste of your tongue
will never leave mine.

Breathe in the solitary fumes
of a million generations.
Man shall strike them down,
breaking into war spells our doom.

Even the animals
verify this existence.
Earth is just the husk
rejected by our sins.
Yet we continue down
Onward into our spiral,
neither here nor there we
even hate our mothers.

For now they perch on my doorstep
with tear filled vigor and remorse
pleading,  little earth worms looking
on in my eyes trying to force
their seed in my heart... demireps
and lechers crying in their ash.

A monk's resolute howls draw near.
I close my shutters to the wind.
An infantile pitter patter
brings resolution to my pane.
I look out upon the tattered
remains of man; I soon realize
it is not them, but I who's sinned

She tastes like the sun
that our bitter lives made.

And perhaps this truth
is why we can't be saved.

For the starlit girl
speaks against our false truths.

Not so innocent,
yet full of passion's youth.

The lunar eclipse
is not enough for her.

We are the disease.
And she? She is the cure.

I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.
I felt the warmth caress my cheek like
the light of heaven radiating down
on me. Looking up I saw my mother,
with eyes blue, and a dress smudged by her youth.
Laughter and love streaked down my face and it
could be said this moment was infinite
in all of its grandeur. But we knew of
this falsehood, for god left for the stars and
you were my angel, but the men took you
too. They marched in; their tin guns rattling
to a tune I didn't know. The storm grew
on until finally, I looked and saw
mother taken into its gaping maw.
My limp retreat, hastened by the need to
escape the reality laid before
me.
As the sad scurried escape continued,
I felt my most intimate seams begin
to tear. The contents of my creator spilling
onto the cold ground. Those tin toy soldiers
surrounded me, and I realized something.
“A ragdoll can't flee”
With an air of vengeance, I took their bait;
biting down on the cursed fruit bestowed
to me by our nonexistent savior.
With a smile I split my seam and screamed out
to all the fallen toys, and fallen joys.
“Hush now men, mother, and me this is life;
this is love, and can't you see what it doe-”
My thought grew dark as a cold tin soldier
finished the job, and I joined my mother
within the ash.

Once upon a time
it was we not I.
Love spelt out in rhyme,
and then it did die.

You love him, not me
and that's okay you
ignore my heart's plea
I bid life adieu.

This benevolence
is penultimate
is my dependence
of the intimate

This poem is done
as you are with me
life has no more fun
now I'll leave you be.

That rag doll looked up and smiled,
freshly unwrapped
with button eyes shining;
mother looked down on her and said:
"The noise is nothing, rest your head and sleep now child."

As night fell  toy soldiers  stumbled in with glee,
they tossed the poor doll  to the side,
torn by her threads.
A doll can't flee.

The sun grew high,
her tattered dress snared,
and the poor doll bumped her  head.
She cried and whaled to the stars, but none of them cared.

knotted, and worn,
her yarn hair grew wild
The doll sought nothing more than bread,
but spoiled fruit was all the tin men held.

Used up, the ragdoll fell into the fire.
her buttons dust, and mother dead
lost in a sea of the liars.

So maybe I do care
about the porcelain
stains in your stupid hair.

The father told the son
and the son his young child
and the river flowed on.

Sinners stole the saint's soul,
and you continued down
your abusive love's hole.

So she says that I am
enchanting.
Maybe I'm just a fool
surrounding
you, wasting precious air.
This is called
Bipolarity dear.

A little bit of greed had crossed my mind,
when I saw brother, pale with that lush fruit.
Like a ghost he sat, yet my envy grew.

I rushed down the hall to my dear mother
and in a single breath I told my tale,
Oh dear brother, why did I heed her word?

Your head rolled, and beside it went my mind.
Mom's wolfish grin claimed you for supper,
but you deserved more than Midas could give.

I took your remains, and wrapped them in silk.
You rested by the woman with no name.
As a bird sang on that juniper tree.

That night we ate my brother's memory,
father with sorrow on his furrowed brow,
and mother whose mask was merely a mirror.

That little songbird came down from heaven,
and mother's mask started gaining some cracks,
as the bird sang on that juniper tree.

With a final song, my mother was gone,
and on her gravestone, my dear brother stood.
it was a miracle, our love was warm.
Our hearts embraced by that juniper tree.

You leave each weekend to go to heaven,
Carelessly disregarding our own hell.
Hysterically I wait for your descent
I pick you up, tarnished, and wish you well.

The other children also do observe
That irony in your notes of remorse.
Pretending we aren't unimportant.
When we are but your stable's weary horse.

Return now, you immaculate liar.
We don't need you, angels shall warm our fire.

Looking around this jungle
lost in suburbia.
My best friend and I found the
willow's whips.

Continuing past, we see
the fortress of oak.
Guarded by small dragons with
poisoned fangs.

Ignoring this for fear of
our souls consumption
by the gluttonous wood's wolves
we head east.

The corner of rich and poor
rests an innocent stream
idly whispering its tale
if you'll listen.

Time filled with infinite laughs
the sun sets back home.
We mount our iron horses,
we were young.

You were a nauseating complication
that had nothing to do
with the pain that I do now feel.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.

The cowl that you wear among that filthy hair
brings a halfhearted laugh
with the frown that I do now wear.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.

Amid the rope that you continue to jump
sits the lonely and lost
with the flowers we do now hold.
Your inconsistent
consistency
brings me down.

Don't disregard a flower
just because it looks like a
balloon
and don't think you can pull on
her petals when she is in
bloom.

And maybe the priest was right
maybe these flowers aren't
anything more than simple
flowers.

I choose to ignore this fact.

I'd say the world turned gray
the moment your eyes closed.
As mine remain today.

I merely watched cartoons.
I had not yet supposed
their credits would roll soon.

But when father sat down,
and showed me your gray ghost.
I knew I'd rather drown.

A light had just been snuffed,
for death's not a great host...
he called you on your bluff.

We reached down to join you
clawed our way to the most
infantile state of blue.

But you knew we would live on.
In our homes with blankets tucked.
Yet I'm merely carrion.
My emotions have been ******.

Maybe he really was just a hipster,
but man look into that dream filled sky.
We all know how the story ends,
with a shovel in the ground.
But he sees the middle.
This tale's rise and fall.
Quite intriguing.
That he can
really
see.

Though a mother goose may lay a dun egg,
All you do, and all you are is the sun.
Rise now, continue your art, I do beg.
A trophy of grandeur, you are the one.

Touch another heart, you have seen this love.
Reach under the grove and pick the fresh grapes.
Ascending further, your grace unyielding
can even outlast the graceful young dove.
You are the angel, art you are wielding

Yes, the others may look to the south sea,
Onto which they dream only of the north.
Unto you, true artist, your beauty's free.

Although it may seem I write this in fear,
Reviewing each statement, meter by line.
Earth has once said, you reach beyond your years.

At the close of this poem we do reach.
Man amongst man swallowed by your beauty,
and the ends of these rhymes holds much cruelty.
Zealots reach up, and begin their sweet preach.
I realize now that it is far too late.
Not I, nor he, nor she can end this pain.
Go to your love, embrace him, run to fate.

Looking at those lantern eyes,
surrounded by charcoal masks.
With your tale you do defy.
Catching you's no easy task.


Kiss the shotgun with your lips
Enough now, you are no more.
The moon has reached its eclipse
and your life I do abhor.

I look into this never-ending sun
Left, right, right, left, the score climbing higher.
Then, suddenly the sun ends its cold fun,
and we look at our life it seems so dire.

Days and weeks slaughtered by the LED.
No love life, no friends, no freedom.
Just a window, what the screen lets me see.
I live in a poorly crafted kingdom.

Look before you, at this husk of a man.
He had such potential, he had a plan.

Shocking displays of yellowed purity.
Causing my fingers to go slick with grease.
Firm yet yielding; salty on my soft tongue.
The scent brings about a carnal fury.

I lick my lips as  I take the first plunge.
I take handfuls of this sweet heated flesh.
My eyes roll back as grease drips down my chin.
Joy personified, this is truly grunge.

As I reach the bottom, I feel forlorn.
As you can see, I talk about popcorn.

Layne is cool
Awfully sweet
Yes, a jewel
No more deceit
Even god knows

Radical girl
Under that brain
Divulged a pearl
And curing pain.

I think she's smart
She makes great art.

Can I speak more?
Or am I done?
Oh I feel poor
Layne is fun.

Duh, she's the queen
Under a crown
Dressed so pristine
Envious gown.

I know that I can't make it up to you.
Maybe it's true, we'll never talk again.

So if that's so I shall bid thee adieu.
On the top of the world we knew such bliss.
ruined because I killed it for a kiss.
Regrets always stream consistently through.
You were everything I did, and I do.

So a bat looked at its fruit
and realized it tasted sour.
He flew up to the sky and
hurried through all of the land
this taste he knew he must scour,
many forests he did loot.

First he looked to the sunset
thinking he'd find relief there.
So he journeyed to the west.
thinking "the sun knows what's best"
as he flew his gut grew bare
but he could not give up yet.

Arriving to the set sun
Our hero was out of breath.
He looked up to the wise star
and asked "please, I've traveled far,
I need sweets, or bring me death"
The sun grinned "but I have none"

Sadly the bat flew away,
wondering where to next search.
when yonder he saw the moon.
So, hoping to get there soon
he gave his wins a great lurch.
thinking just what he would say.

"Hello good moon, sweets I seek"
He replied "alas, I've none"
crestfallen the bat grew sad.
"I suppose I can't be mad".
For madness was no great fun.
It made his heart and soul reek.

At home he found his sour fruit.
In the end, that was okay.

I said I'd **** myself tonight.
But I was too weak.
maybe tomorrow will be the day
the dim candle wick is snuffed.
until then my sheets stay white

I'm going to **** myself, so please pretend to be sad during the funeral.

By a bitter birch's bountiful bloom
My child whistled madness at winter's howl.
The young feline jumped from Satan's harsh womb.
No more knowledge, all he could do was growl.

I prayed mother was home, and father too.
They should not see a waste of their sweet fruit.
With this in mind, in tears, my sword I drew.
If I only had an arrow to shoot.

For I am the greek and she the leopard.
She goes for the ****, a heart's dark Shepherd

Their love was obvious.
Hearts god made, but they break.
Eventually lost.

Evil found on the cross.
Nearing suicide's pact.
Don't die, I still love you.

Hop frog hop, as you reach into the glade.
Look down upon your tadpoles, see them swim.
Look up and then, Oops! there goes the blade!
You were killed by the leisure of man's whim.

Sing bird sing, look up into the heavens.
Think not of the lonesome boy right below.
Look up into the sky, he jumps seventh.
Ignore petty men, fly where the wind blows.

I don't believe that eagles or frogs cry.
All they can do is give a weary sigh.