"Whose life is the most meager,
the monkey or the *****?"

To screech and wind the
same dreadful tune
a mildew forming on your screws
What a way to grind your gears,
counter-happy through the years

Or

To pantaloon a penny nearer,
wearing outfits scavenged
from old graves
To jingle shackles,
worship Cesar's
To have a smile filled with nails,
a heart fashioned of broken stares

"But who has the most meager existence?
The undertaker or the priest?
The coffin or the corpse?"

To love the man who appoints the pain
to the monkey and the box
To praise the God that has made love
a traitorous paradox
To be the one that bears the wounds
of every ******, child, or sage

That is to live the worst of lives,
                                                    the bleakest death
That is to understand the blackest hole

Perfection was rumored to be living three blocks from the bakery
I, intrigued, found myself on the porch of a dingy white house, with a forsaken garden
I knocked, the door cracked
Out of the shadows, an elderly man with a tremor in his body approached me, and smiled
"Sorry, it's just me, God. Perfection moved out a while ago, and left this."
He handed me
                         One
                                 Teardrop

Why will this not break?
Why will this not fade into
awry little women muttering apologies?
Why will this not heal,
soften, dampen like the eyes of an innocent
This vex, this folly, a mistake to be erased
Instead it's morphing into a wrinkled excuse,
an overplayed scar
Stubborn, unsatisfied with only bothering me in dreams,
it swims around my consience
But isn't it my privilage to awaken from nightmares?
Don't I have the right to forget?

Pain is not weakness leaving the body,
but the slow dying of a will

Sometimes I pretend to be a stranger passing through
I approach afraid, confused
I walk about disorientated, unsure of what I'm looking for
I tap you, lightly, on the shoulder
Then I ****** your senses
I smother you,
I burn you,
I destroy you
Yet you seek me out, wandering aimlessly, whispering, "Excuse me, I'm looking for Love..."

Grunting is for favors, groaning is for games
Lachrymose while kisses engulf my senses
My jaw aches for destruction, my heart for love, my body for temptation
My dear, I don't want you, I want your confessions
I am drunk from your soul, its
Whispers
Weeping
Sin
Flutter my darling,  
Let there be ecstasy...

I'm scared,
petrified of retreating to nostalgia and chaining my ambition there
of settling for the everyday, to never dream of "ifs" and "maybe's"
to admire  jewels, stars, and lovers from afar
declare them unattainable and safely hide behind anonymity
I'm afraid of comfort, of the well-known roads and faces
Yet,
is it better to cry over spilt milk,
or watch it spoil in your hands?
                                           I don't want to live with regrets
But I know,
it's easier to live with than failure
Honestly, truly,
I'm terrified of crossing the line,
fearing every envelope could push me into ruin
Let me, then, hand the glass to a braver one
a better one than I

here i am, waxing poetic and waning harangue
learning to quit but teaching to win
if losers don't win, and winners never cry
why can't butterflies be heroes and all battle cries obscenities?  
what a nice way to put a scar, right down the face of a city
how cruel of you pope, to mend it with rubber, and **** it with snow
and if you've never seen him **** a tower, let me tell you
don't live in the silver one down the road
it's haunted with rumors that once were lies, now printed for chains
stop the press, we can't bend any lower, and i don't fear death as much as i should
and there you are playing a life, and living a maze

I don't want to be a hero, to have the world on my shoulders
I'm content with applauding, with sitting at home
Tights are uncomfortable, and capes I would trip on
I hardly have the physique to pull off skin-strangling suits
But show me a puzzle, and I'll help you solve it
Show me a stain and I might just remove it
I don't want to be a role model, to have my face in someone's Bible
If I die and at least you shed a tear, then that's all the immortality I'll need
That's all the eternity I'll ever deserve
May my epitaph be a dream no one remembers
May my memory be a smile splayed on your face

We are on the outside,
peering in
They've let the two-way glamour
of their muses let us see

The women, different faces
different names,
but all the same
She is the Hurt and Angry
She is the Left Behind

He's the one obsessed
with finding ways to let us know
that the stones they throw are not for us,
but to keep them safe,
alive

When the glass is finally shattered
He leaves Her among the pieces
and runs from skewed reflections of his past
and we all aren't shocked to see
He had already broken every mirror in his mind

I'm safer with you
I like this sort of foam between
                                                   THEM and us
it's comforting
I know this is crazy,
but I actually thought I
could look up
                       to you that's childish
I know,
           They know
You know I love
                           you can't judge
a cliff by its sky
the same way
I bowed down to your
slippers each morning thinking
that alone could resurrect
the statue
                     from your heart
It's madness                            really
     how you thought I'd
love,
        I'd love you if
only that can change
                                   my faith in you has
                                   waned
that's one thing I'll never
                                         promise
                                                       you
                                         promise you'll come
                                                            ­      back
love
                                         promise you'll come
home.

it happens, the little shiver pats you on the back and compliments you
you stay mute, and it touches your eyelashes
it's whispering
it's telling you how proud it is to be with (who else?)
it's frightening
it knows the stutter of your walk
the trip of your tongue
it know's you're afraid
but you're mute, and you're deaf, and it's sunny
and so what
you shiver, you smile
and it's sunny,
you're worried
and so what

it seemed like you were always waiting
for what,
i don't know
to be found i guess
because your voice was so sad
as you made it dance for the
delight of others
you had your words carry
the weight of others' ***** feet and
slick judgement
it was embarrassing seeing your
silver tongue dip its form
into the sooty ink of
your fear and have it
sign someone else's dreams
on the dotted line
you're a degenerate angel without
wings
you'd jump off bridges to have
her scream your name
just once
have her say your name

it was my little heart that could not give
to the brittle hands that could not hold
you were so thin, i couldn't get my arms around you
with your shiny and your new
and your little stick with the loud bark
i could almost hear my tears,
taking tiny steps in the big house
you're a monster- my abuse
i'm your garden- that's my use
you used to love me-
my excuse

there are so many thing i want to tell you
it's like i'm an open sky and i'm just waiting to spill constellations of light and explode ever so gently and politely into your eyes
it isn't fair you know
my life has always been a room of stark white black and grey
then you walk in and splatter colors onto my wall
then walk away
so i stare day and night at the brightness on my wall
i've never let anyone desecrate my mind in such a way
i'd always let people know to take off their shoes and remember their coats
that they were only visiting
and what's more
you never came back,
though i left rsvvp apologies and wantings at your door
most guests wouldn't dare leave a crumb
but there's a splatter of hues on my wall
and try as i might
i can't bring myself to clean it up
and it's crazy
how you never know your were living in a colorblind cell
until someone opens your eys
and then you see
the whole world's in color
and your life of rights and wrongs suddenly goes out the window
but you never came back to teach me how to walk in the light
so i'm stumbling into my own shadows and it's bright
and i'm frightened
come back
i've started dreaming in blues
come back
i'm a white canvas with a black scribble down my spine
come back
i've started bleeding in reds
come back
i'm tired of feeling in shades of you

traipsing w/soft-handed monsters
into strange apartments
crying,
thinking about ghost cinema
and pseudo coffee
broken echoes of sharp nights,
harsh glass,
and sad eyes
this is millennium
this is for the crimes in dreams
that we write our crooked names on
street corners and label our belongings
in his or her's
we are trapped on the other side of the
wall
we have shut our own doors
to the howling void
to the hungry children
to the starving hordes
this is why we create
because amidst the spiraling mindsets
of
now-forgottens,
we want to be the light
we want to swallow the dark
peer into our belly,
beast of tomorrow
we've collected our debts to you
we have scattered our soul
behind every painting,
inside every word
catch us if you can

in the darkness, the blankets are so warm and the religion so comfy
with its cushioned promises and feathered saints
how lovely it is to reach out and not see your fingers, but feel them wrapped around glass beads
each is an eyelid, a door locked
each one is redemption
is love, is
                .... fingers tightning, beads falling, eyes opening
Light is not truth, light is not gods' almighty forte
Light is exposure, it's beating your eyes with Lies lies lies
April to May to November
Lies lies lies
Monday to Sunday
Lies lies lies
Tithe to rosary to confession to sin to lie lie lie lie
Light is god, Light is evil Light is devil
Light is lie lie lie
Death is truth, death is End of Light
Death is the end of the thumbing of beads of the beating of chests
of the ashes, martyrs
of the lies
of the misery
of the guilt
the shame, the
                                                                                                                          lie lie lies

We fall
We rise
and yet I don't really know
Is it best to stay down,
                                        or to swallow the world?
Is it best to say yes
                to say no
                to die loud
                to lay low
I can't smile if it's sunny
I can't cry if it rains
That's a lie!
We are robots, we don't think
We just do
It's a life- no, existance!
It's everything scribbly and color by gods
Making us equal, while drawing a blank
Don't tell us creative, or different
unique
It's making us filled in with "pretty," all neat
To hell with the ones who cannot oblige
For using their beauty,
not staying in line

Silence can be the greatest answer or the worst of evils
It is the absence of truth, it is the purest of statements
Silence is not quiet, it abandons its shame into a bottle and shatters it under its feet
Silence is wrong, yet it does right in the eyes of the angry and discontent
Silence is kisses on the feet of the oppressed
It is the strength that raises the oppressors
Silence is dust under your feet, the salt in the ocean
Silence is our fear, our love, our panting voice behind the bars of your inhibitions
Silence is our hungry hearts that cannot beat and smother words of the ones who hurt

                       Let their be sound
Let the gnashing of teeth among the wicked and ****** be heard
let the cries of the children and devils and saints be heard
and break the silence of our world, for there are no righteous men
and there are no living gods

The sky is not crying, neither is it blessing you
The trees do not dance, neither do they feed you
God does not curse you, neither is He watching you
The predator salivating death doesn't know its prey
We want to connect everything to us, humanize the unfeeling
We name the stars, the children, the earth
It doesn't matter, because they will always be what they always were
The storm comes, regardless of what we call it
We perish, regardless of whether we praised life
We live, regardless of whether we worshipped death
This is why we are crumbling, if and only we remember to stay unnamed
If we unmask our humanity, underneath is nature, waiting
Underneath is where all we know is existing

this is completely expected
you're going to tell me how much love you're body has for the idea of mine
i'll tell you how much love my heart has for the idea of yours
we'll discuss how much rain the clouds have for the blessing of an earth
or how much shine the sun has for the gloom
i'm not listening
your'e memorizing everything to bring back to show me how much you could care
for me
for us?
that's funny, that's comic, that's probable
but why ruin such a good thing?

little girl blue in a house of tea kettles strewn across the mantel
they sputtered and shrieked
while she whispered soft promises into the sheets but had fists
that had been bitten by her teeth
as she choked back all the things she used to call
perfect
she wanted to fly into the sun
she was a moth caught in a web that she could fight out of
but her eyes saw the flickering of a bulb and it blinded her
she thought the was the best it could ever be
she has tied her ankles into the darkest spot of her mind
while trying to reach out to the brightest place in her heart
maybe she could run so fast that every mistake she's ever made
will blur into every memory that's ever made her feel beautiful
so she can laugh at herself and think she's beaten death
maybe one day when she mumbles how this is not real, she'll wake up
she'll find that she's five years old again
and that she's home
and she'll no longer be afraid of the mirror
she'll have the strenght to say
no

i'm so alone
the sun is this big orb and the moon is a big bore
take your peer-pressured practicalities into the closet
and lie awake thinking why you never go out alone
we're all clining to each other because we are afraid
the other side is probbaly a long list of forms
and we're here hoping that it holds everything that will make things right with ourselves
we're so afraid
it's because we don't know how to live
we don't know how to love
we tear each other apart trying to figure out what's inside ourselves
but when the sun goes down
and the stars glare at us
from what is a delayed constellation of graveyards
we forget our names
and our lives become black and white photographs in the attic
we feel forgotten if we don't hear our flaws on someone else's lips
we are so alone
because  we do't know how to be together
we scream and hold and ****
but what we want is to have enough silence in our heads to feel peace
we want to be free
but skip into prisons of our own making
we're so broken
we're so imperfect
but light candles for gods that promise they'll love us into the next life,
perhaps hoping they'll remember us when no one else will
remember me