pain will keep you from living a normal life
what's normal anymore?
pain will make you not want to get out of bed in the morning
pain will make you eager to go to sleep at night
pain will make you wonder if you'll wake up

pain will compromise your confidence in your own sanity
what's sane anymore?
pain will make you cry until your eyes stop working
pain will make you ***** every chance of healing you ever had
pain will take the air from your lungs until you stop breathing

i don't want to be in pain anymore

My words are ***** and I ****** them
forcefully on the page, the staff bends
oh so slightly
                   but still it enters,
what was ****** in now damp with
          a push it gets to experience my love
and I keep on thrusting forward I grab it
penetrating the vacant places that were empty before
          but now I fill it to a content of yearning.
                I
                 finish
                           and then I leave I may use it again but
once I used it, neither was it pure as it once was but I may
call on it from time to time to see if it wants to be used
again, not as before but just a quickie, and then again I'm gone.

Our good books tell us
Christ walked on the water
but that God was brought
to the New World on galleons,
so I ask you, wise ones, teachers
and preachers of History,
how it came to be that the Son
didn't require a boat like the Father,
and how the hell you managed
afterall to get things so backwards
when the soldiers and priests
kissed the the ground and walked
on God's children around them.

I didn't stop loving you, I just started loving me...

I'm locked in a cage.
Half my body spilling out through the bars;
Arms bent, snapped bones piercing through skin,
Stretched out, reaching for the key that gets further away.
Other half still held captive, hidden in the darkness
Of the secret that never wants to be paroled.
I want to escape, but the jagged limbs have formed a knot
And I can neither be pulled out through the gaps of the bars,
Nor back into the depths of repression.
I'm half free and half trapped,
And those two states of being cancel each other out.
I am nothing.

Women i love you for your boisterousness 
and softness too, harshest lighting
notwithstanding 

You are poems of poems of poems
in moonlight beneath crimson moons
encouraging mystery

Women your sanguinary allure holds
me never but your pernicious sorrows
are as captivating as ever

You are goddesses and ****** and archetypes
all the same from salon to Wal-Mart
to the Barnes up the Parkway to the Zoo

Wymyn you are ***** on bykes leather
lesbian jackets and caresses of chains
silent cervixes smattered and schmeared 

Ladies your parts are none of my business
and my love's too Western for that nonsense
but I wish them all good health and plumbing 

Listen sisters, allow me some gravy
for respecting the curvature without
ever needing to ride like Sally into orbit

Your ******* are thousands of temptations
to many men but I'm only enamoured
by your foreign policy experience

Women you know how to know what's what
and make yourselves muses and heroines 
perfecting heterosexual enchantment forever

Hey ladies let's be friends and not so secretly
plot for you to really start conquering the world,
ok?

When it's all said and done
When it rolls around next
Think I'll make a run
For president

From the fiasco I've seen
From Trump and Hillary
They both made it look
Rather easy

I'll promise them this
While giving them that
And never admit
When I leave out the facts

I'll wear an American flag pin
So I'm not penned communist
While promising that
And giving them this

I'll scream at some
At the top of my lungs
And when asked of my past
I'll play it dumb

I will promise to free
Those in poverty
If they would just kindly
Give a donation to me

I will shake all the babies
And kiss a few hands
Wait...can I have a do over
On what I just said?

I will kiss all the babies
And shake a few hands
There...that's more like it
**** you auto correct!

I'll promise it all
Without skipping a beat
The straights will say Yay
While the gays dance in the street

I'll perfect the one liners
Like, it's the economy stupid
Then ship jobs to China
When no one is looking

When asked what I've done
I'll avoid the question
Until eyes start to glaze
And boredom sets in

I'll go to war
If one need be fought
Or take out a loan
If peace can be bought

So in another four years
When all this goes bad
The run for president
I'll throw in my hat

Cause if it can be done
By Hillary or Trump
Then it can be done
By most anyone

A real gentle man  never forgets his way to his house,
he  will always go to his house even if he is drunk or weary from working late at night.

For in that house lives the treasures of his heart;
a beautiful Princess waiting at home,
and children (for those that have a child or two)

A real lady never forgets her way to her house, too...