Oh these lack of easily spun words
Sticky caramel masses in the back of my mind.
Stuck, stuck, stuck
Messy to boot
And stuck
To worry it, or stick it back on simmer?

I’ll shout you down,
Laughing in my way:
A joy filled sound,
To shake you
To your core.
A sound to amuse me,
To shatter the farce.
Sweet and pleasant,
Loud and musical,
Never have I heard
Such terrifying Joy.

Perhaps, sometimes,
I wonder at your indecision.
A little bright leaf.
Refusing to touch the ground.
But there’s very little wrong with the ground.
And in touching it,
Something astounding might begin to flower.

That spark of Inertia forced the cry from my throat
And slipped anguish into your tea.
Drowning the embers that burned there.
While you set my sin into the gears of a time-worn watch,
You sipped the licking flames,
And brought out your creation, with ticking twitching hands,
Into the day to burn.

In.......out…….in…….out
My lungs scream at me,
While my mind races thoughts in ever faster laps.
The winner undecided as flames begin to lick the outside of the car.
The waterworks fall.
In.......out…….in…….out
Is now a wailing siren
Wailing sirens,
With lights exploding behind my eyes.
I try to pull the car over, but that steering wheel is stuck in the drive position
In.......out…….in…….out
The noise is too loud and this hallways too crowded,
But I can’t go back to that peaceful pond.
Because, Lord help me, I’m afraid I’ll drown.

To see the changes wrought by time
Plays sweet havoc upon my mind.
The twisting, folding, space of memories,
My only sanctuary,
from shattered dreams
and haunting hopes, that unleash from me a scream.
I sit and replay,
The reasons why I hoped you would stay.

In the quiet space,
Between chapter three and four.
For now, there’s magic
Between these lines.
A point that is
Often ignored.

In which 1 am is just a prelude,
That slight bend in the road,
Or the loosening of inhibitions.
And, ooooooooohhh,
All the delicious possibilities.

Perhaps 2 am is more a siren’s song.
It softly calls to bed
Or maybe urges
For one more look,
Chapter, song, show.

Sink into the mists weary soul
For such pain does not belong,
To one dark, like midnight coal.
Sing, dear, such a lovely song.
One to call the lost and small
To bring a little light their way.
Hushed lullabies for all.

My bed squeaks, filled
With empty thoughts.
I’d rather it be still,
Then sleep wouldn’t hide,
Scared of all the noise.
Grateful,
It’d bring with it dreams.
Sweet, golden ones
To fill my empty thoughts
With the warmth of you.

I find myself wanting to cause you pain.
Every time that feeling rises up,
My scouring stick packs it down tight.
I can’t, after all lash out.
It’s the high road or nothing,
If only to prove I’m better then you.
But eventually after they’re aimed true,
The cry for “All cannons open fire!” will ring out.
And I will bring thunder down upon you.

It sits in my chest.
I wish I could say it was heavy,
But it flutters about as it aches.
It feels like a ******* wound to my soul
And cold snow in my shoes
As it seeps into my bones.

Would you dream of me in the space of a breath?

Please say yes.

The butcher smiled.
Crimson lips mocking,
As she took in the sight
An insignificant spat
Between two men.
In a stunning flash,
The victor stained scarlet stood.
The butcher’s grin became hungry
And she took her first bite
Out of his humanity.
Which was oh so inconsequential.
Since they all belonged to her.

I want to write epic tales
Or little brilliant pieces,
To make a person think.
But the words are slippery,
Plunging. Falling fast from
My grasp, they vanish.
I’m not sure where,
They sometimes return,
And if I’m really lucky
A few moments of furious
Repeating is enough to
Hold them tight and safe,
If only to turn them loose
Onto pages.

I would have judged you
In that moment.
Between breaths.
When the hesitation spoke for you,
I would have judged you,
But I choked on my bitter rebukes
And started to drown
In the aftermath of it all.
I would have judged you
If there had been no need to judge myself

Little leaky emotions run,
Dribbling onto paper, or
Those pale computer screens.
Mostly black and blue
Never white.

I’m not sure what jarred me loose,
Maybe the medication,
Maybe the ***,
Maybe the drinks I had sitting here,
Maybe just the texting,
But something just shook off the ashes and rose.
Something shifted, something SHIFTED.
I want to run, HA, no going back.
I got my parachute, time to fall and see where I land.

“I love you.”
Reverberates in my flesh.
Words to destroy by,
Words shared with you.
Coward, I name you
As I ponder
The might have been.

Breath dances along red-ribboned strands.
Memories brush my lips, its sweet touch
Bursts into starlight.  I’m held,
Pinned by the moonlight.
Two hands clasped in promise,
Like a lovely butterfly,
The grass cool and dark
An earthly mirror for the night.

This dancing on wires never ends.
The thrill-seekers wish to see,
The body caught and twisted ‘round,
Lying still in the golden light.

You, fairytale princess,
Who looks out my mirror
Chocolate eyes, pert nose
And lips drawn in a bow.
I don’t think you
Are at all real
But I’ll sit and stare

Cravings for warm electric shocks,
Sweetened kisses
And quiet nothings whispered,
String me up in ephemeral filaments.
Sharp and seductive this fantasy.
Envelop me.
Saturate me in these dreams.
I crave nothing less than to be consumed.

The slow churning of the tides,
And my little boat
Afloat,
On a glass sea.
A ripple.
A shudder.
A shake.
And my little boat,
Roars with flames.

The cracks have appeared.
Wiggly lines stretched across
Such a flat mirrored surface.
They trace the hollows of my eyes,
The curve of my twisty cheeks,
Lines of thick black that fail to mar
My dreamless humanity.

And would I sing a song for you
Quiet soft
Spoken against your heart
That you might know me forever

Would you laugh then
Eyes lighting up
Unspeakable joy sticky sweet on your lips?
That you might know my heart

Would you dream of me
In springtime meadows
Whose tall blades of grass whisper up to the sky
That you might feel me

And would I look into your soul
Look into your heart
And wrap myself in your peace and warmth
That you might feel my love

Got the ring!
Oh the guests!
Flowers on the table
and on the cake too.
Veil fluttering about.
Pearls draped,
Vows exchanged.
Bands of gold glitter;
I now introduce to you...

Shall I fade into the quiet nothingness?
To be lost?
To wander?
To exist in the dark places of your heart?

Shall I have no meaning?
No hope?
No love?
No light to guide my way?

I refuse.

It’s soft almost unnoticed,
As it steals up on me,
And fills me with shear warmth.
My quiet dreams fulfilled.
Desperate wished unneeded.
Whole at last and free.

My feet are cold and boredom has struck
Along with the big hand on the clock
It screams out “FOUR”
I think it’s in the A.M.

There’s a grace to your thoughts.
Sleek and soft like a cat.
It sets me at ease, and
Sits in my soul, warm.
Everything that I could ever need.

It's six am and the haze has settled in.
The teakettle dreams of fire,
and I wander the realms of unreality.
My clock dreams of going forward,
and I wish to turn it's gears back.
Alas,
Both their dreams are fulfilled.

Breaking rhymes and little lies,
All I have left to toy with.
Spinning them into secret bottled messages
Leaving me replete with bitter silence.
The play is complete, the mask in place;
I’ll wait for my turn to break
A smile posed on my face.

I bite…
The tender fleshy part…
My tongue.
All at the risk,
of being bleed to death,
just for your
Quiet satisfaction!

Entrancing power,
Dazzling…
Tremulous and treacherous
It left you vision-less
And so very hungry for more.

They’re jumbling
And tumbling.
Tripping over themselves to get out
As soon as that clock hits 3 am.
If they don’t they paint vivid mindscapes
That vanish with the sun.
If they make it,
Well they can assault the senses of those,
Now too few, that read.

I got swept away.
This past Tuesday night.
By the sights and smells;
dried leaves dancing about
And that woman,
so in love, that she sighed
Her poetry to the wind

“Happiness is a sweet, sticky, toffee–  
Flavored mess.” His words ghosted in my ears.

“And I’m discontent, here in this abbey,
To sit and wait for your unhappy fears.
I’d much rather have peppermint kisses,
Sharp and pricking sweet on your supple tongue.”
My voice: bold, unfazed by his many faces.

His laughter filled the still space and rung,
Alarm bells of impending disaster.
Unsure of the steps, we, unfaltering,
Continued on; trusting in our anger
So we might wake.  

How long were we sleeping?
Forget rose-colored glasses! I wanted
To see us in all our colors faded.

In deciding what to have for tea
I let a few choices overwhelm me.

It started with Curiosity,
a subtle blend mixed with righteousness,  
a little guilt, a pinch of sadness, and
perhaps most important desire.

The aroma filled my head,  
as the tin lid slid to the counter.
But before it made its way into my cup,
I spied my jar of Anger.

As tempting as the frightening,
confusing, and fiery blend was;
I needed something a touch more satisfying.

So I pondered and wondered.
Glanced at Shame in its blue jar.
Regret crossed my mind,
a bitter brew indeed.

I heard a cough and turned to see
my apparent madness looking at me.
He made a face, wondrously bored
“I’ll take the mint melody.”

Familiarity echoed golden through her mind
Just a light touch here
A flash of a light, and eyes stared knowingly.
A lovely little gasp of breath
As everything was awash in a setting sun.

Fingers trace gentle circles
moving like ghosts,
on pale skin.  
Just awake enough now,
to feel your lips write poems.  
Whispered down my spine,
as we lay tangled on the bed-
wishing for now to be forever.

Perhaps there is no wonder.
As it all feels so gray.
The color slowly leeched.
Just as the sun
Makes our vision white.
The little paper bird
Sits all dusty and bleached upon the shelf.

The egg-white mannequin sings, walking down
Pothole-gray sidewalks. To the Met he goes.
What is he looking for? Of course! His toes,
Which have been lost since the lawn-gnome facedown.
It had been Sydney versus Roslyn for
The title, King Crab. And the prize, you ask?
Peppermint wine in a trapezoid flask.
As the battle wore on, they struck a gopher,
Chopped some toes, and played with Play-doh.
The damage caused Google Translator
To speak only Spanish about pink meadows.
Eventually things came to a close.
The victors won with Nike’s bluster.
And off went the mannequin for his toes.

To drown in yellows is to stare too long
At those fiercely awkward moments of yours,
But it’s all I can do.
Even as alarm bells ring incessantly, over and over.

You seemed lonely that day,
Or perhaps it was wishful.
Swept free in a crowd.
Surrounded by everything,
And nothing in peculiar,
Reaching out, laughing.

And such a tempest;  
Roared inside the refrigerator!
Food is the way to a man’s heart,
my mother told me.
I rather did not listen
and gave myself away instead.

What a terribly frustrating thing relationships are.
I wish I had more wisdom to dole out or,
Perhaps some pithy saying that would light the spark.
That moment of ah ha!
That moment where you know you’re going to be alright.
When it all comes together.
When you’ve found yourself again
But I can only pound out my emotions onto paper
Share them, and hope they resonate.

Relationships are terribly frustrating things,
But being stuck in silence is worse.

I’ll stand,
an awkward flower amidst your thorns
Perhaps a touch battered;
Most definitely worn.
Red and invoking dreams-
I’ll stand.

The whispers of “Sorry”, haunt your brow
Shall I bear the burden of your guilt?
I don’t want to.
Call me selfish and afraid.
But I’ll laugh at that thought,
As I cry my pain away.