Electrodes to nodes
and nothing bodes well
electrickery and it trickles into me
revolting and jolting
and Frankensteinlike bolting me
to the bed.

The head
this head will no longer be as free
as the thought imagining in me
while hot electrotomoty
burns me to
anonymity
and it's a pity I can't be
a less condusive entity
but the powers that be seem to have it in for me
and I am strapped to non lucidity
in the name of all humanity
don't put a shilling in the meter

Later I meet myself
in a shell of who I used to be in a picture
painted hastily
on a background
which I cannot see
and what was once no longer is or was it ever and did I once was clever too or were the words electricked through the nodes that boded ill?
Will it stay or will it go
somewhere out there
do you know
or are you waiting for the leads that lead you to electric feeds?
Can someone bring me bread and water
call my Mother
call my daughter
or like the lamb led to the slaughter
will I bleed to death?

"We accept the love we think we deserve..."

Plunging feet first, head last
Immersing myself completely in your atmosphere
Impulsive,bold, and open
With no reservations, no pride
All caution thrown to the wind

A meeting of minds that are attuned perfectly to each other
A melting of kindred souls
The thrill of my falling into your gravity
My lover, my precious.
How do you make me burn for you?

A passionate combustion, a sweet torture
An illicit warmth, an aching pain
There is a longing, a desire so strong it is almost palpable
A longing to be close, to touch and be touched
To find meaning and warmth in another's embrace

You make my heart melt, You set me on fire.
I drink the soul from your mouth,
All your pleasure and pain and everything you feel.
I won't let you go until I have it.
Taking your anger, your rage, your hurt
Turning it into an apology, a pardon, a penance

And when my heart is sated, I take you in my arms,
I hold you close and kiss you and tell you what you mean to me,
Kiss your lips and eyes till you fall asleep,
Knowing tomorrow is another day for us.

Left my soul in the trippin spoon. Gave it a shot now I think I'm through. Now watch me ride on and see it through. Until we meet again. A chicken crows in the dead of night. Another tweaker, been up all night. In the dark chasing dragonflies. Now its time for the morning light. So welcome home. The phone rings but I don"t pay the bill. I probably spent it on a ****** pill. But he still can't find a thrill. Where did the mortal go. Back to the trippin spoon.

i've been
reading poetry
ee cummings and--
sylvia plath
pretty pools of words filled with color

--and ducks

charles bukowski is a
***** old man
lots of ***** old
words
and images
but real dirt, not pretend
real's so hard to find
these days

they talk about love like it's
broken--painful--deadly--
always wonderfully beautiful
(like the beautiful snake whose
poison's killing you)

that's not
love

because it's falling asleep with warm breath on the back of your neck and your bed a little too small
because it's laughing so hard that you almost snort macaroni and cheese out your nose
because it's doing laundry and pausing just to notice how your clothes smell like her
because it's waiting alone, imagining how big you'll smile when she comes back - it's always bigger than you think.
because it's knowing that the pain's not part of love, it's part of being human

they don't know
nearly as much as they
think--
they do

i love--
baseball in the park when it's not too hot
(I play shortstop)
chocolate ice cream cones in the hot sun
(dripping down my hand)
flying kites in autumn winds
(the falling leaves make the difference)
sledding through the snow
(and crashing into snowbanks)

i love--
coca-cola
(in the glass bottles)
root beer
(with vanilla ice cream)
7-up
(it's better than sprite)
mountain dew
(caffeine!)

i love--
you
(and the soapy smell after you shower)
you
(making me laugh more)
you
(how much you care about people)
you
(and you let me, too)

that's my proof they
don't know
(what
they're talking about
that is)
so--
i think poetry
is overrated