He has so many things to express
All in words.
but there is no sense
No coherence in his words,
And yet as his words flow..
Beauty, passion, emotions explode.

Ladies and gentlemen..
lets put our hands together for
The poet.

We will sleep together
in my head tonight;
holding each other close
in arms of fantasy:
dream lovers,
made of imagination.

~mce

the swarm engulfs my being with love and blood;
your horrific cleansing of amor among life in death sends a shock of terror among the world.

so insidious that the stars hide behind their veil of opaque mist.
little do they know that their pale haze is only a shimmer of anonymity.

the fire-baptism commences, and i can not feel the burning of unholy light.

this must be the end.

my blood turns to ice, my eyes see only streaks of apocalypse, and my mouth is sewn shut by the infernal creatures of purification.

the hellmouth speaks for me now.

the sleeper woke the world and it bled.
the flames of rebirth purged the world and devoured it.
the lover remains comatose and shattered.

seraphim swoop down from a silent heaven to clean the mess of a love too strong for one to bear.

blood oozes out of the ears of those too occupied and diluded to care

"how strange it is to be anything
at all"

sometimes i look
at my skin
and wonder why we have
branches growing out of lined palms,
and wonder why
our eyeballs look like galaxies
compacted

and i realize that there is no answer
but to stop thinking about it
and just
live
for ***** sake.

please take me into the
forest, deep
with tall redwoods and let me feel the rocks like
swords under my callous feet.
where we can watch the sunset from
up above the tilting world, sitting on our thrones
made of Marlboro filters and sticks
on a mountain cliff.
we'd be cliffhangers
and thieves and vagabonds, painting ourselves
with the blue tinted night
like the deepest parts of
the
sea
far from the wandering grasp of
reality.
watch the stars with eyes like
flickering lightbulbs,
shining yellow in empty, echoing rooms.
bring along four bottles
of wine,
one for each of us.

we'll drink until theres wine slipping past our cheeks
like some kind of blood-orange sob,
leaking out our hollowed belly-buttons
rivers running swift through the lines of our
palms.
wounded from every pore with the blood of
our intoxication;
magenta tongue stained skin.

would you let me take your hand and lead you
through the empty, knocking dark
and sing to you in the soft moments of
before morning?
would you trust me enough to
close your eyes
and let me lead you in a bruised,
tumbling
drunken journey to the top of the
highest mountain?
we could lay in the summer blanketed wind
made of dancing sky and
burning earth.
close our eyes and stop the earthquake in
our minds,
wake up with the sunshine seeping through
every corner of our aching
bodies,
roses growing out of our jigsaw jaws and puzzle piece
crumbling ribs and lungs;
see through our sober fingers and
wandering eyes
a different world than it was at
midnight.

The difference between you and I is
You don't believe in remorse or regrets
and








I do.