So
let them
**** and ****

And forget
whatever love
was

And forget
whatever love
tasted like

Pondering on diffused starlight,
  dandelions caught rapid fire
     when a glimpse of wishes
       went up in smoky embers,
hence the skies opened up
   as it rained crystal clarity,
neath each cloud burst
  a message of compunction
      for the earth was uneasy,
  that no one cared enough
    to take good care of its bounty
       and the wonders that be,
    as puddling imperfections
          of liquefied vigilance
     within teardrops of deliverance,
            cleansed its wounds once again**

                           *in yet another chance

A collection of poetic tattoos
Permanent upon my heart
Fancy scripted verses
Beneath my chest
Illustrated hope
Penned deep
Artistic ink
Promised
Phrases
Of my
Love

.

I can barely count the miles
of criss-crossed asphalt,
painted lanes in all directions,

barbed wire fences
creating corn field quilts
in endless mosaic patterns,

rivers winding and unwinding
beneath bridges spanning
picket fence neighborhoods and cities,

stop signs and detour barricades
shifting the flow around *** holes
and borders patrolled

My eyes blur of chalk marked sidewalks,
hopscotch squares washed out by storms
which have found me lost more than once

The distance seems unyielding, a formidable foe
to this dream repeating in my mind
of the moment we finally meet

Still I keep walking, wondering
will worn out shoes and 99 cent burgers,
be enough fuel for this destination

Regardless, I shall not stop
until I reach you, falling exhausted,
finally into your arms, into your heart

media holocaust dumbing down society
  matriculating detachment's spineless dump,
weapons of mass distraction's convergence  
assimilating adaptation's explored transmissions
   in conversions of auxiliary's pseudo-redemption
    anxiety cast in embittered expulsions of
ubiquitous foghorns flailing in numbing flat notes,
   off key in theatrical productions' translation
failure to cease & desist standby sub-humanity,
     close-captioned in radioactive hieroglyphics
                  on the walls of expectations' exasperation

World is spinning, cars are speeding, wind is racing,
My heart is running, my head is pounding;
Time is wasting.
Strangers are whispering, birds are shouting, people are yelling,
Reality is shaking, my nightmares are living.
Time is wasting.
Where is the silence? Where can all of this stop? Where is the peace?
My watch is ticking.

Please,

Make the clock


Stop--

I'd rather have the kind of love
That grows organically
Not forced or rushed

I'd rather have the kind of love
That grows from a wealth
Of shared experiences
One hundred cups of coffee
One thousand laughs
Ten thousand smiles

I'd rather have the kind of love
That burns slowly
Continues to provide warmth
Gives off a steady light

I'd rather have the kind of love
That's built on substance

I'd rather have the kind of love that lasts

My life's a dichotomy
Pure business is what they see
Hair slicked back
Professional, hot ****
Smiling proud, *******
Look at my doctorate!

Charming sociopath
I'll grin like you've never seen before
"It was a pleasure talking to you," she'll tell me

And in my head, I'm ******* screaming
I'm dancing with devils and entertaining ghosts
Tempering and instigating demons with liquor in a paradox I've yet to understand
Engendering masochistic tendencies
Because I deserve no better

walls,
worn out with pride
paint,
scratched off with anger
floor,
mudded with vices.

start again.

(and there goes the sound of destruction.
then silence.
all that is left
is a broken wasteland.)