My eyes overflow
with her natural
glow that grows,
the beauty of youthful
innocence
perceived in this
pleasant instance,

a chaos of undisclosed
secrets that
only she knows
and a body that flows
brilliantly beneath
her soft clothes,

a poetic mind,
a delicate find
who graces me
with a brief evening’s
meeting,

a friend
just this side
of this dreamer’s life.

I wonder what
it would be like
to touch those
soft cheeks,
to cherish and guard
her sweet artistry
when in hidden
fantasies
wonderful words
are gifted to me;

So lovely,
lonely,
and melancholy
as all dreams
that are never
meant to be
become.

The hurting heart does not decide
which piercing pain lights their life,
does not contend, but sits and pretends
by doing barely more than living
even though they are seriously struggling,
they are surely winning this sixth early inning.
Till, thinning scabs and fetid breath
gives way to blooming fresh rosy flesh.

The spiral rises to brighter skies
then begins to weave and descend
returning the burning heart
to familiar shadows, of snow
cold groves.

i am trying to remember you
     and
let you go
at
the same time.  

— the mourn

So, I guess
I committed
to a friendship
with a ghost.

We used to
talk and text
for most
of the day,
play word games
and engage
in deep thought
connections.

Maybe there was
subtext on your end
but I was certain
we were just friends.

Even if
I wanted more
than friendship
from this
long distance
it was worth
a little hurt.

So, I did not suspect
that it would be you
who up and left.

I had no clue
that you would vanish
and my heart would be
permanently unglued.

What an idiot,
such a fool
and even now
I still try to
reach out to you.

All I get
is echoes in
an empty canyon
from a one time
internet companion.

It is dust, death, and hunger
that drives me.

Watching and walking
as other human beings
go on passing.

With each stranger
I imagine a world
written in untold pain.

A lady in an old jean jacket
with long wavy hair
walks out there
on the side of the road.

Carries a load of pain,
as she pushes an empty stroller.
Indentions in the fabric
mark where there was
once a dearly cherished child.
Now sorrow is the shadow
she lives with.

An old man lays still,
cold and stiff
with a whiff
of **** and decay,
as his mutt whines.
A pure white pit bull
with a faced messed up
by years of abuse,
then adopted by this
homeless dude,
poor pup will not move.

Whilst ten blocks away
in a well to do place
an elderly lady
is having her face eaten
by her little darling
chihuahua,
cause there is no one left
to check
in on her.

Then there is me
wandering to see
what is left of this world.

As far as I have gone,
I know I do not belong
because it is a mixed bag
of beautiful and *******
simmering in the inevitable
stew of loss.

Well, me and my guys
are tired and it’s no surprise.
We got to work all day
and never get enough sleep at night.
So, we drive exhausted
and work till our brains are fried.

It’s a slow suicide
with a sad decline,
buts that just how we get by.

With overtime here
and weekend work there,
if I ever see my kids again
they’ll probably be scared
cause I’ve become a stranger
to my kin.

It’s a slow suicide
with a sad decline,
buts that just how we get by.

I got high blood pressure
and now I am in danger
of a coronary event.
Man, I am so ill spent
with this fast food temperament,
cause I have been eating
junk due to its convenience.

It’s a slow suicide
with a sad decline,
buts that just how we get by.

That’s how I die at thirty-nine.

He lived in it,
thrived in the
full fledge
ecstasy of violence;

Submitted to
the purification
of punches
and kicks,
taking shots,
blocking hits,
feeling as if
he was a soldier
of righteousness,
the power of certainty
knowing he
was doing god’s *****
work.

All blood and guts,
all violence and viscera,
destruction,
self-immolation
when facing
less worthy
men than him.

All anger,
furnace stuck on full blast
way pass fully gassed
as he lit the flame
that he burned in.

Always warring,
and that is how they got him
in the end.

Watch as the water
boils up from the center
till the wooden steps splinter
shatter and explode
sinking my steamboat
dream load.

See me rise
with dilating
bloodshot eyes
as nightmares take
my sleep away.

I’ll sip a sic brew
of blackish crap
to stay awake after that
bad batch of mean dreams.

I won’t go back to bed.
Instead, I’ll let those things
scratch and crawl
through my head.

Till the tides
pull me from the shores
then drag me father
than my nightmare
took me before.

Till the shadows
pierce my tired eyelids
and force me to give in
and go back to dreaming
deep deathly shades.

My last dance will be an inspiration
Hands to hands tightly intertwined
Music deeper than any revelation
And all done to in my own time

My last meal will be very delicious
Sampling a bit of all of my favorite things
And being my last need not be nutritious
Humming with flavor cause you know it makes me sing

My last slumber will be the deepest I’ve known
Dreams will no longer come at all
My essence thus departed receding from how I’ve grown
So there will be no me left to recall

My last conversation will never be my last
Though my bodies may fade
Becoming only an echoe in the past
My words will remain to be remade

Revisited over and over again
It may not be immortality
But it is as close as I can come my friend
Words etched in the collective unconscious
Until humanity ends

The river flows
As subtle as a golden rose
Scent straining to reach
Any receptive nose
Firing weird wiring
Synapses flare and glow
I fall into the clutches
Of what all dreamers know
Time and space is vast and fast
But I am small and slow
Beating back the wild waves
Shrinking as much as I grow
Such a sparkly little speck
How little I truly know

This is the final act slash scene
The end of all great things
What an amazing finale
Center stage the star is me
Waiting in the wings patiently
For my time to shine
I step forward from the shadows
While the other actors take their bows
Time to dazzle and amaze I am ready
And As I enter the spotlight seams unsteady
Oh my where has the light man gone
Oh well the show must go on
I look to the crowed
Bellowing my lines out loud
What A wonderful delivery
But then I realize no one is here but me

This is the comedy of life
I guarantee that by night
You will either laugh or cry

This is the tragedy
Life is full of irony
And all of it borders on insanity

And this my dear is the funny part
Life is so hilarious that it will break your heart
Before you even start

He’s tired,
body aching,

feels the shivers
roll down his spine.

All the pain
is breathtaking.

All his limbs are shaking.

Eyes barely open,
lays his head back
to relax,
but sleep will not come.

He feels older than his age
with wrinkle he hasn’t earned.
Soft tissue and arthritic issues
are a burden
he was not ready to own.

He yells,
see tears sear
his reddening eyes.

He fell,
and he will never rise.

They put his body in a coffin
and laid him down to rest
but this isn’t a sleep
he’ll wake from.

There is no more pain for him.