I am fury and glass
shattered so fast
that shards slash
and bleed me
before I can see freely,
thin lines of red streaking
and seeking something
underneath the skin.

As I walk through the wearisome
world that I live in,
with abusive people
and all that I give them,
that unspoken permission
to continue hurting
that heart that keeps turning
in self-recrimination,
ready for self-immolating,
exploding and incinerating,
cause I am tired of debating,
or outright stating
that I deserve better
than this ever-inflating bitterness;

When I cannot even
speak into existence
a pittance of the vengeance
that you deserve,
that well-earned remittance,
because my level of empathy
extends to those who hurt me,
while constantly denying
mercy for myself.

I am fatigued and ready to
fall to a slumber were
everyone I ever knew
can no longer reach
out and intrude
with their crude rude
self-important attitude.
Till, I am finally impervious
to all of this madness.

Don’t get caught in her eyes
cause that is where
her mysteries lie,
where the tiger hides
are waiting to pounce,
and devour every ounce
of the essence you have,
to satisfy the beast that resides
in her ever-enduring hunger.

You are a not a partner
just a hundred shades
of pretty little prey
that she craves,
and you will easily cave
to the charade that she parades,
to the play which she plays,
because you are desperate
in the perfect way
for her cruel love game.

Unprepared,
I sat and stared,
saw the despair
you shared,
not outright
but by the
fractures in your skin.

How your porcelain
starting cracking
and shattering,
how the weight
of everything
that was mattering
was just a smattering
expanding
and being pulled in,
an explosion, implosion,
finally denoting the eroding
of all that was once
your granite composure.

I am of
something that
once sparkled
fiercely and far above.

I am earth and mud,
cells and atoms
all that particle stuff
that doesn’t measure up
to enough
to stop all the pain in
the world.

I am of love.
Peace and poetry baring
sharing my caring
and creative heart
a pebble to start,
a ripple that turns to
tear apart oceans,
with emotions in motion
that will eventually stop.

I am life
bound for death,
not remembering
how or why
children cry
or when I decide
this is my right
to live or die.

I am.

They are the dark
overbearing powerbrokers,
not into power sharing
only lying and declaring
all that expands
what we are able to understand
an enemy of the state.

They lost the capability
of any sort of mimicry
cause they are deficient
in any sort of empathy.

The capacity
to imagine with even
the slightest bit of
accuracy
has vanished from these
social engineering
sociopaths.

So, from the depth
of their stupidness
and reckless pursuing
of personal gratification
they have set up
a system of stratification,
that regularly pits everyone
against those with the least
power and prestige
in our deluded society.

Have you forgotten me,
the grey beard that lives nowhere,
hungry, and looking through
ash trays for some stray ****
with just enough tobacco
to get a hit of relief.

Awkward as hell,
occasionally, talking to myself
because nobody else
wants to even acknowledge me.

These are my city streets.
This is my cold hard concrete,
an indifferent existence
cause people go out of there way
to ignore my presence.

Slender man who scans
the eyes of strangers
for some opening,
so I can ask them
for a cigarette
or a couple of bucks to get
anything to eat.

Shoulders slumped,
back collapsing under the weight
of exhaustion, cause it’s getting late
and I don’t have a place to stay.

So, I stumble about till I find
the closest spot to safe where
I can sleep and no one there
will threaten or shoe me away.

Like groundhog’s day
I repeat, a shade of myself,
echoing just enough
to survive another night.

I got forty-one exhausting years
of lessons in my rearview mirror,
some harsh, some painful,
some pleasant, some shameful,
but I don’t think that I am able
to overcome that education.

I’ve heard that steady drumbeat
pounding out a lot of doubt,
interlaced with the face of desire,
and in my love or lust I’ve
let my heart be hopefully inspired.

The curve of her jaw line,
the sweater slowly rolling over her flesh,
the breath that rises and falls beneath
her *******; her dreams and thoughts,
I long to hear, willing to pay any cost
to hold my dear near and listen,
just listen to what she wants to share,

and *** of course, sweet *******
after and before our delightful discourse.

But with each rejection I have become divorced
from expectations and any patience
with potential lovers.

With each observation, seeing how people
hurt each other, how they smother
or abandon, I find I am done with them.

Angry at myself and those women,
seeing them chose someone else
and falling victim to the despair
that I find there when they decide
they prefer the violent guy.

So, I take my lessons and eat them,
love can just leave me be,
cause I will not join or beat ‘em

May those who intrigue me
forgive me my curiosity.

I do not wish to intrude
upon your peaceful interlude,
are act in any way that may
be seen as undue or rude to you.

I am fascinated, at how you created
the person who I see
full of grand complexity.

Sparkling lines of stars reflected
in the blanket of your brilliance,
I feel it’s force and frequently
desire to be overwhelmed
by such solar fury that I am incinerated,
only to be reincorporated in my own reflection,
put back together much improved
by what I learned from you.

The poetess or scientist,
the athlete or artist
that sparks this
spectacular inspiration,
particles of experience expelled
and collected as new perspectives.

Witchy spells and butterfly colors,
mortuary science and deep ****** puddles
as I wander and wither a dithering fool,
striving to write and connect to
anyone who will read and believe
in my creative sincerity.

It is so selfish, and I am a terrible thief;
Stealing soft utterances, and glances brief
to place them in these temporary word things
I call love but equally mean poetry to me.