They try to tell you
You won’t listen
It’s too hard to hear
The knowledge gets ****** upon you
It bores down on your mind
You go to the bottle
You go to the needle
You go to the books
They will take it away
And the little one will suffer.

They ask me why I laugh
I tell them
A way to cope
I’m just happy
I like the feeling

Truth is I don’t know
Truth is I have an easy life.
All of the above
None of the above
Seems to be part of life.

After glow of writing
Is there nothing like it

Pen jabs my hand
Splits my skin
Spills my blood
Red stuff of life

Fascinates so gruesomely
Don’t understand why
Don’t question
The laws of this world
It will always rule

She is no Louis the Fourteenth
She is no Napoleon
She is no Stalin
She is no Nero

She will always be
Accept it
Move on
To the words

A mere “l” separates the two
For a reason
The reason of power
The two have it

No one else does.

I have heard enough talk,
I have read enough books,  
I know of what you speak

He lies in the grotte
He waits in the dark
He loves in the shadows
And he preys in the light

Which is why he should
Begin
Begin again to see
If once he learns
His brave
Can turn to coward

He can be one of us
And he can love in the light
And hate in the dark.

The words write themselves on the inside of my lids.
Their sharp slants jab my eyes and force me to open them,
Force me to glare at the world.

I remember now why I am.
I remember why I should live.
But I also remember why I wanted to die.

Trying to hold it in
Racking cough
Churns up your throat
Bursts through those dark cracked lips

They say that Death is a cloaked figure
That haunts the shadowy corners
Where no one dares to venture.

Well I say
She is in every jealous caress
She is in every lover’s parting kiss
She is in every line traced upon your palm

She walks free under the same flag
She cries and screams with the same voice as us
She loves and loses the same as us

But she cannot hope the same as us.
She has no body to give
She has no heart to throb
She has no soul to devote

Death is someone to be pitied.
She is not something to be feared.

Laetitia
A trilling name
A wack-a-mole
Incompatible yet true

Go on and bust 'a move ol' suga' mama
Make your poppadipops proud!
And don't disregard Dr. Carlisle Bartholomeue Schmo
To lift your wings as you undulate
Through human sized stalks of rye, wheat,
Whatever the young call it nowadays

And fly to the heights
Of a tall sandy-haired boy