Be careful dear,
I am just a match looking for kindling.
Hopefully you don't mind getting burned.

I found this poem doing algebra,
or sometime after the problems
that crept up on me
in word form
yearned to
join the page.

My face began to rot out the very words
I felt like saying but knew I shouldn't.
The pencil told me it was okay to make mistakes
and I think I went overboard, for the fear of drowning escaped me.
Every memory of the sinking ship I called home held promise.
Sweet salt singing
in and out of my mouth,
I told you I loved you.

bones bones bones
you're bathing in wood
and taste like molasses
thick in my throat
-a knot in the spine
that you tied because
you wanted to suspend yourself in my comfort.

I held you too close and came out with ****** ears.
aching for sound, and screaming
for any answer, some sweet melody that told me
yes
that told me
no.
let explanations take their time,
you deserve it.

desertion of desire
leave me to my streets,
where forgetfulness is salvation
and the path is better than the destination.
lean against me in the form of gravity,
your warmth is firing my senses.
I'm re-experiencing freedom for what feels like forever ago,
for what feels like never.

My friends mean ***** business
when it comes down to the bottle.
I want to share what I've brought,
for I brought it to be given.
Yet it seems all these people rest uneasy,
and tonight I'll join them.

Corpse hands lost her sight
perhaps it' 'cause she lost her mind
in tryin' to find what's beneath the rhyme,
rather
than enjoying the movement language can take.
Speech
is technique of the tongue.

I've been spending time trying to see how far mine can take me
if it's enough to raise me and if it does, how long will it be until
it breaks me?

'Cause I can't seem to learn enough words,
and the ones I already know are too many.

Is there a structure to look up these feelings in a dictionary?

I find that not knowing how to say what I feel is lash back
side-effect of not being able to find the words to explain
anything that's going on, inside of me, outside of me,
much less what's inside of you
or perhaps what it is that I could do.

When it comes down to doing there's too much to do.
I find myself stuck with expectations and goals that I give myself
that I'll never live up to. Yet I keep surprising myself all just the same.

When it comes to the Self
there is no way to explain,
living, breathing, kissing,
stealing, loving, cheating,
you're going to transition,
so **** it.

Just be yourself, whoever that is,
and your friends will love you no matter what.
If they don't, then they're not your friends.

Keep your mind, heart, and soul open,
for this seemingly never-ending cycle is happening for all of us.

I know there is a sense of
freedom waiting for me, in the rooms
of a house yet to be mine. Striding

through this spaciousness. Even if
I am a captive in my own home I will
still know to be alive only on

the inside.

Even if there was no light, it would
be part of my being, a very essence pervaded
in truth but this, not really a knowing.

I am my heart, and in it, my soul
knows its freedom. God, how I would love to
die for what I believe in but dead is

not how they want to have me.
Left in chains and broken spirited, I was
already tried through a society in a

world seeking to weigh me down by
taking away what ties me. To my family, my
friends, my fellow human beings, and what

keeps my feet on solid grounds. What I
know transcends down into humanity, even
if actions of violent men are

void of sanity.


© October 9, 2012

ok, so you're not a fake person
you're a deceptive, fraudulent,
cheating charlatan

you're a player, a phoney,
a counterfeiter,
a feigner, a pretender, a he-vamp,
telling me what i want to hear

you're tinsel and
i took that gleam in your
eye for something else

so, you're a real person
but that doesn't mean
you're not plastic