I smoke cigarettes
I drink ***** straight
I party with the suffragettes.
I have no job.
I have a car.
I have a brand new, spanking guitar.
I'll sing a song,
so sing along.
I'm a born-again, ***** brunette.
*******, where's a cigarette?
I write some lines.
I've got some fines.
I snort a line,
I'm doing fine.
Poet,
know it,
*****,
snitch,
girl,
hurl,
finger,
singer,
love,
glove,
me,
b­e,
book,
hooked,
see?
three!
And now you know,
my tale, insane.
It's not quite told,
I'll try again.
****,
Greed,
'strology,
Blasphemy,
Gay/Straight,
don't hate,
quitter,
hitter,
fool,
cool,
won't get me in a swimming pool.
delusional,
confusional,
blankets,
spank it,
pillows,
billows
out the car into the night.
Taurus,
chorus!!
Oh, won't you be my Valentine,
Now you've seen into my mind?

he looked at me
I felt neither safe nor fear.
Magnificent.
his coat looked warm
his muscles well used.
he looked away but I did not.

I saw the power and the pain
should I falsely move.
but i am still young
his massive head not yet a weapon
his feet paw not at me
I felt no fear nor safe.

One by one they go
I watched them as they went
By my hand the damage done
But yet unmanned by me.
So finally, I looked (as one should never do)
The spaces that had grown for months
Were worse than I had feared
But no one says a word

Dear Headache,

I see you're back again,
like you think that I'm your friend.
Like you think I enjoy your company.
Well, let me tell ya somethin', honey.
You need to go the **** away,
and don't come back another day.
The only time I let you in,
You're my excuse to eat a Vicodin.

No love,
Irene Saylor

old shoes
new rules
new dress
impress
take off
fake-off
love spread
love's dead
cigarette
bowl

Please appease
i'll drown alone

sitting on my throne
made of verse and rhyme
and wasted time
and cigarettes
and 'buts' and 'yets'
and guitar strings,
engagement rings,
and bad fashion,
unfulfilled passion
and hundreds of miles
and cold bathroom tiles
and dollar bills
and cheap thrills
and glasses of wine
but mostly of wasted time.

i think my fate is sure to be
a house of cats and their ***
a house covered in fur and *****
and absolutely nothing to lose
i'd work a job to the bone
and then come swiftly home
i'll never marry up
i'll just refill my ******* cup.

i step, i step
tread on, keep on pulling.
turn, turn, lift the load
and step step again
bow down and stand tall
head on my hands
mind in the box
use your eyes and your mouth
swallow, sip, swallow, sip
sit down and stand up
eye roll and walk on
step, step
use your eyes
bow down and stand up
tread on, keep on pulling
sigh and an eyeroll
play along, tread on
i step step
i tread on
i step step again
i bow down and stand tall
and that will be all

I write little over
many s
I took & don't
say as we found

this late that came
small with much answer
hot day
baked too start
earth city place

Praise be to "****."
our national anthem.
Our herald to the sky.
Our call unheard
Un-cared about
Our shred of sanity
when uttered loud at night
Or barely escaping past our lips
Or lost in our eyes locked
upon each others' ever-present
"****."
Our fists through glass
Our blade on skin.
Our true uniting cry.
Our "****."

understand,
(I think you do)
that i need
so thoroughly
dependently
irreconcilably so.
A mind like yours
compliments
and mind like mine
so completely
interchangeably
undeniably so,
that when these
components
combine it
creates
symphony that
can only
crest to
cacophony.

Polished clean
among evergreens.
Under Winter's
eyeful watch.
And Spring bows in,
Her slender wrists
and waist
ankles dusted in
wat'ry show and ice and
Leaves.
I watch Her dance the cold away.
I hid in branches, ever green,
despite the snow and ice and leaves.
Despite the cold and
vacant Winter.
Strength in spite
in spite of death.
But when She comes, they
stand with pride, they
welcome Spring's sun
shine.
Reluctance because I know,
I know She'll love the maid
of Summer, who woos
the gent of Fall, who's slane
each time by Winter's beast.
And yet, my friends, they stay, ever
Ever Green.

My father once told me,
That my eyes were so bright
The only time that he could look at me
Was when I was fast asleep.
Only then could he make out my ****** features.
At night he still comes,
And checks on me.
Sometimes he thinks I'm asleep.
I wonder, and wish I could ask,
"Do my eyes still shine bright?"

You may be the subject
today.
You be the cause of the effect
today.

"What do you read, my lord?"
"Words, words, words."

They sound together,
fall trippingly [off] the tongue
but not for you
tomorrow.
When I my laptop collapse,
when I this file save
you are not required.
Dear muse,
she'll tease you and haunt you
and fill your bed a while
Don't think I'd leave my muse for you
Don't think a single poet would
Don't think these words haven't been played,written, written
written to Death
And they'll be wrote
(again, again)
till He is our
Bedfellow.

If I had seen your paradise,
I'd welcome rain come in again.
If you had to me entice.
Had I not born my soul, a drunk,
disguised as lust behind my cups,
my head'd lay softly on this bunk.
We should not us, dear dreamers,
think our words perfectly heard.
We are prone to fall awake.
As I am prone to cry by night,
when most clearly comes the light.

If you shave your beard,
be a'feared.
Out of the blue
I will leave you.

Come, lie down with me.
Kiss me softly
hold my self
then you enter me
(and I in you)
but quickly, please
the dance, the dance
it frightens me
I'll stave you off
for fear of it.
but when you enter in...
you stay a while with me
and while you stay
I chance upon another world
the world i do love best.
but you are
the worst bedfellow
for in the morn
I'll always find you gone.

my mind is blank
for want of sleep
for distractions
handing me a check.
this is when i'm happiest best.
and i don't have time to miss you
i'm sorry but it's so
and i don't have time to
think of rhymes
to force upon the world.
i don't have time to leave my house
or get drunk or ****
complications end in an hour
when the patron leaves.
i don't have time to leave my house
(and loving kitten, sophocles)
i'm busy out and wanting sleep
and paying off my debt.
and this is when i am happiest best.

Four ones
no nuns
every night
with all my might
cheap *****
to lose
dignity
prosperity
that is all
cause my fall
on my knees
to please
Jesus, God
Oh! ****.

You're such a handsome man, you know
(or woman as the case may be)
You love to sit and talk with me
You love to come and lay with me
(though we're not motionless at all)
Your hair, it matters little
Your beard is full and soft
Your hands (ah! your hands)
Rough from labor, soft from work
Either does suit me
Your eyes are bright with intellect
with tenderness for me
When we talk, I love you best
For it goes on for hours
We read aloud from books we love
and discuss themes and diction
We read together poetry
discussing rhyme and meter
I read you one I wrote today
And you think it a wonder
You tell me of your own creation
as I love you more
We walk then to our bedroom
and I turn off the light.

oh god please fly with me
and i watch you through my window
you're so far away and so grey
ominous cumulus
we're heading on paths set and of discord
and all i see is you ahead
follow i with to that star you race
to the star you embrace
as everlasting life in the temporal

The white looked red,
I thought to myself.
The white looks red,
I said.
What is that? A cat?
No, a skunk,
though I smell absolutely nothing.
Such beautiful markings,
I thought.
Such beautiful fur,
I'd say.
I wonder if the white really was stained red.
Or if it was just something in my head.

it's not even midnight yet
and i've smoked my last cigarette
i'm a few shots in
i'm on the borderline of sin
i've been waiting for this night
to call you without fright
to beg you please
let me on my knees
i'm sure you'd elude me still
i'm sure you've simply had your fill.

Why, my, you're beautiful
Didn't you sing to me once?
There was a cigarette and a tree,
I believe.
A glass of milk you left behind,
And a heart you never saw
And there was a heart I never saw
But my **** mouth, it ran away
Abandoned me
Telling tales I wish I could hold

Suppose I am your worst cliche...
Suppose I am your worst cliche.
Could I be your best cliche?

Why, my, they're beautiful.
I'll love them because they are
Half you.

Didn't you make me laugh once?
On a bed, in a room, in a house, in a town, in our state
Didn't you make me ache once?
Behind a door, all alone, unbeknownst to you

But **** my mouth abandoned me.

That rose colored glass.
Our uninterrupted smiles and our
Soft forget-me sighs.
Was it glass?
Or was it smoke.
Was it razors and cigarettes?
Well, it encased my heart, my eyes, my tongue.
But not my ears.
They heard.
And slowly, through my veins the message crawled,
And slowly my tongue began to speak.
My eyes, they saw.
My heart, it felt.
But quickly I was fed
More smoke and cigarettes.
More glass, repaired as time began its inevitable
drip.
Drip, drip, enjoy.
Drip, drip, swallow,
Our doubts, our pains, our ever-present sighs.
I should have listened to our melodies.

More smoke and cigarettes
As I tried blow the smoke away.
And tried to spit the drip.
But glass it was and, love, despite my efforts,
T'was you who blew the final
Blow.
And still the glass remains.
Its sharp corners and its razor edge
In my eyes
My tongue
My heart.
The edges I will use
As they are now.
And rebuild that rosey shade with them
And smoke
And cigarettes.

do stay awhile
as long as the grass
we never cut
in our backyard of
mostly garden
with jewels growing
from where they will

do stay awhile
as long as my hair
you won't let me cut
with tempests raging
all throughout
for want of an iron

do stay awhile
as long as your beard
i won't let you cut
with nests throughout
full of birds
who sing you to sleep

do stay awhile
and we'll stay in
and cut naught but our fingernails
and live in our blissful sin.

Sleep encase me
Boy embrace me
Pills and pills and pills and thrills
Smoke that bowl
Snort that ****
Shoot that junk
But if that's it
Walk away
Hang your head
Go back home
Get into bed
Don't wake up
Just don't sleep
Wine and time
Make stomachs weak

She is bountiful.
look at her
Swollen,magnificent.
Wouldn’t you agree, miss plath?
Miraculous (unnatural).
The most natural
process you’ll ever know.
Tell me, princess,
what is your name.
Tell me, queen,
how did this become
your state of grace.
Let me feel your
life within.
Let me love again
through the most natural process
we’ll ever know.

It's not to hard to see how everything is
For every action is everything and
wind stays steadier than I.

And life is naught but memories
If we exist at all, while
rumors and scientists both will take the fall.

When time erases all you've done
(the universe expandeth)
you will not know a thing.

For you'll have gone, satisfied,
while bandits rob your grave,
wind forceful at their backs.

I invented the candle, I did,
and look what has been done,
necessity no more.

You are old in my eyes,
and I am old in many eyes
not yet conceived, not yet realized.

not yet conceived.

not yet realized.

Oh, the days, the days.
The everpresent tick tock of that ******* clock.
I'll smoke a cigarette to pass the time.
I'll listen to the radio
turn on my stereo.
Pick up my phone,
There's nothing there.
Monotony has got me looking longingly
at my coffee machine
my guitar
my notebooks
Pens and Paper.
Books I didn't write
but love to read.
Applications that are half filled out
pills prescribed
uneaten.
Boredom is the worst drug I've ever taken.

Reality said hello today
And I- I did- I ran.
She pulled aside fantasy
And showed me all I am
I turned my back and once again
Did see reality.

The veil was drawn, the die was cast,
The ship set sail, et cetera
And I, alone, was just me at last.
Bewildered by my own ideals,
my own philosophy.
I closed my eyes perchance to sleep.
     (and perchance to dream)
Perchance reality
at bay to keep.

through her tears she wrote
"It will never matter where
it'll never matter who
if it's written in the stars
if it's written inside of you"
as she thought so deeply
of how she was living
of how she was feeling
and how she was giving
every inch of her soul
over to pain
to fate and
to rain.
as
the
thoughts dwindled down
to the essence of life
and how everything's the
same, time and time again.
"had i not been born on the day that I was
had i not been born on the day that I was..."