Where am I and Why I'm here?
I hear the voices calling me
miles away, beneath the sea
whisper, whisper in my ear.

Don't listen to those words too sweet
they only want you to be deceived
they have poison on their tongue
and with lies they filled their lungs.

Do not fallow the way they show
it leads to place of eternal void
in abyss they will let you fall
and out of there you cannot go.

You are an *******.

You made me believe that every time you said I love you would be the beginning of something that would last forever, you made me believe that every time you held me in your arms it would be a safe place to go like the way that the birds fly into the trees and know that no matter where they go, they can always come home.

You made me believe that maybe someday I would be good enough to be somebody's mother.

You made me believe that when I looked into the mirror that I was somebody beautiful, not because of the way you held me, but that since you saw something and you never lied, it must be true.

So excuse me if I don't understand how you can look at me now as if I'm just an person in a picture that you forgot about, I don't know how you can look at her the way that you used to look at me and not feel the pain that I feel; knives ripping apart the heart that you worked so desperately to stitch back together then gave up on. I don't understand how you can say that you'd fight for her when you gave up your future with me so easily...

See... how can I go on with knowing that the future that I planned with you, the names that we named together, the plans that we made together would all crumble away with the few words "I don't think we should be we anymore." I accept my mistakes. I was not always right and I put too much on you, but I needed you...

I needed you and you left... because you said it was too much for you.

I told you that I could change and be better, but you said I was perfect just the way I was. You said that I didn't deserve you and when you said it, you meant I didn't deserve pain that you might put me through...

But you see...

How dare you tell me what I deserve.

How dare you tell me that my future that I planned with you was no longer an option. How dare you throw away the one love that listened to me when I said

"No. Stop. Please."

How can you look at me the way you did before before you knew the pain that I've gone through? I shared depths of my heart and parts of my soul that had never seen the sun, but now only know the warm light of your love.

I trusted you... And I trusted what we would become. I put all my eggs in a basket that wasn't woven quite right and watched helplessly as it fell apart. I hope that maybe someday you'll see what I saw and know that it's not fair for you to say I didn't deserve you when you made me feel like I deserved the world.

I just want you to see what I saw.

Somebody worth loving... and sharing my little part of eternity with.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
******
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and ****** and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.