I've missed the pink morning sun...
Left with the mundane, 
the clotting cliched orange,
that stole
what's left of night:::
My mind starts its dervish dizzy dance 
Spin spin sanguine sprung... 
awake::
This means she starts her day too:::
First her slow laps around my memory... 
 the smiles born are unmasked
Next
she walks slow motion circles around my subconscious
Till my psyche takes a turn...
hey Mr. Id
don't be afraid tuck it away  (just because you are crazy/no need to share the secret)

Next she takes her marionette strings of the oft erection (already tucked/no shame):::
She stands a sentinel at my subconscious She breathes...
she is exhausted
and
everywhere in my being:::
She bleeds into my heart:::
Accelerates. Pounding.
Her thoughts stimulate my mind with a tapestry of complexity...
Loosens the lethargy, lets me know I still have a soul:::
    A cadence, a beauty in our lust...

If she reminds me of me, does that mean I should go fuck myself???

The cocaine cowboys
The opiate operatives
Those children of lesser god

A gluttonous glory
for the wrath of the "righteous"

The deadpan stare of the Deadly Sins

A love predicted upon jealousy and lust
as we wait in envy till
the prideful are graveyard pale with the rest of us

On the Calends of March
Caesar stood
purple togaed
and
proud.
unaware
of the 23
cuts
to kill
him

We remain shackled to Omnipotence
to chemical reaction:::
a
free will
farce
for the
cause and effect

The Ides of the month of Mars still will catch us all

With caveman intentions
and a cowboy
swagger
he approaches her...
a cretinous bull:::
craving:::
and
closing in
on
her:::

the candelabra glow, those mesmerizing midnight eyes, serve as the tip of her whip and her talons  

with a fistful
of his
hair
and a
mouth
soon to
be
forever between her
knees
she
in an
instant
effortlessly
tamed
him

Dissonant distance
Chasm divide
Wanting to be close to you


Trying to Make Sense of It All
In sepia stained images
I've
Seen
Your face
before
perhaps in some
Victorian sacrosanct bond born in a time  of sacred innocence

Anomaly?
Of all of those black and white photos
Taken
Long ago
an image of pure love
is bound to exist

The Strong Silent Type
Edification
The steeling of a spine
Masculinity isn't a dirty word
The cocksure drawl sprung from character
And any thoughts of red petal wrist droplets
Remained locked, entombed in the subconscious

Petrus Romanus Rock for your Love

Still you spend a lifetime talking
shit
Until your voice, it becomes
hoarse
Still you seek the touch of material things
Until your fingers remain
coarse

Still you saturate
the soul
Until you drank brown liquor
in the blue
Still hate myself as a whiny victim
Until I seek a renaissance
in you

Still herded cubicle conditioned
cucks
Upend my humanity::: do as told for a couple bucks
Still a slow bleed with that nine to five
knife
Until you emerge a caricature::: with a
want for
life


As I still my rage for a second.
Apoplectic defeated apoptosis, I see it's all been done before

I see it is a virus...
omnipotent fate, futility forged,
a life already played
throughout time on velum, parchment and papyrus

Next page