I am a binary man
seeing the world simplified
Everything would be so much easier
if it was made of ones and zeros
If all choices were right or wrong
all answers yes and no.
In a binary world there would be no maybes
There would be no what if's


There would also be no love
no passion
no beauty
no creativity
It is the gray area that defines us
It is the unpredicatability that makes us
Its the uncertainty that drives us
giving us hope and pushing us to better ourselves
I don't want my binary world with only two paths
I want the third path
I choose life.

I've always had this empty feeling
in my heart.
I've tried many times over the years
to satisfy it


First I became a teacher.
What better way to fill my void
than by educating the leaders
of tomorrow?

I taught them.  I filled their heads
with knowledge.  Every child that
entered my classroom left with
an appreciation of what they
had learned.

Still, when I laid in bed at night,
I felt that emptiness in my soul
******* up my contentment.
So I stopped teaching

Next, I became an adventurer.
Clearly my last job, while fulfilling
was incredibly boring.  What better
way to fill the void than to feel
the adrenaline rushing through
my head?

I skydived, I wrestled alligators,
I climbed mountains, I pod raced.
I felt more alive than I ever had
before.  It was exhilarating.
Women loved me, men wanted
to be me.

Still.  It didn't fill the void.  I would
go to bed with women whose eyes
were just as empty as I was.  I would
wake up with plastic and rubber.
I stopped thrill seeking.

Next, I became an astronaut.
I clearly needed to complement
excitement with the satisfaction
of doing something good for
the world.

I studied the universe.  I traced
lines along the constellations.
My research was renowned
by scholars worldwide.  With
my help, the world entered
a new paradigm

Still, the void persisted.  

I became an architect
and built some of the
most mind-boggling
structures that had
ever been envisioned

I became a doctor
and found the cure
to the diseases of
humanity

I became a poet
and wrote words
that echoed
throughout the ages.

After all I had done
After all I had accomplished
After all the time I had spent

I was still empty.

           Then I looked up
           Then I opened my eyes
           Then I realized

All I had been missing

All this time

Was you.

There once was a blues man
as skinny as could be
who went by the moniker
of Boney Bones Dupree

He was the worst singer
I ever had heard
sounded like an alley cat
who done choked on a bird

His guitar wasn't tuned
it whined and it wailed
as he struck it with a
sharp and rusty 'ol nail

His teeth were yellow
his eyes were gray
his hair looked like
stray bits of hay

Still people came
from miles around
to listen to his music,
his haunting sound

He danced on the stage
in jaunty puzzle steps
you could hear the *****
comin' off of his breath

He'd scream one verse
until his face'd turn red
then he'd whisper the next
while he stood on his head

He'd jump up and down
and slam his guitar
throw the **** thing
right over the bar

Then he'd look to the crowd
and playfully smile
and thank us for
sharing his crazy awhile

After taking a shot
and waving goodbye
he went and jumped
back into the sky

He painted those evening
clouds with delight
as we watched him
sail off into the night

Outta sight.

On those days
   when my head is full
                of doubt
              of questions
            of frustrations
       of all the things that
  could go wrong in my life

I'll find her waiting for me
and I'll lay my head across her chest
and be greeted by
      a steady heartbeat
       comfortable arms
         soothing voice
            soft hands
                peace

I can't be strong every day
Sometimes I break
It's only inevitable

That's why I need her

It goes deeper than the warmth of her skin
It goes deeper than the lust for passion

I need her love to flush the toxins
I need her love to cleanse my soul
I need her love to refill me
For I've been running on empty for far too long

She's not there when I open the door

I push away the pain of disappointment

as I try to remain strong for another day

Write her a love note
dance in her dreams
drink up her thoughts
walk the maze of her eyes
    and get lost

Ask her about her day
Learn about her life
Swim in the sea
of her aspirations

If you always listen to her heart
She'll always take care of yours

You hit me with your pillow
  I am caught off guard, my nose was in a book
                        Now my nose is in the book.  Ow.
                                     I move quickly, time is of the essence
                                                       and we're at war.
                                                       I take my pillow
                                                    and dive over the
                                               edge of the bed.  You
                                          chase me relentlessly around
                                                the room, leaving a wake
                                                of down feathers trailing
                                                        ­    behind you, lazily falling
                                                         ­   to the ground in this violent
                                                         ­   melee.
                                                       ­      You swing your
                                                            ­     Pillow
                                                          ­   Like a medieval axe  
                                                                     I am beside myself trying
                                                          ­   to fend off your blows
                                                                 as you hit me over the head
                                                            ­ again and again.  
                                                        ­You've backed me into the corner
                                                       I wave my pillowcase
                                                     like a white flag
                                                   You let your guard down.
                                                Whoops.  I have two pillows now.
                                                                ­   >:)
                                             I do the chasing this time, as a dual
                                        wielding pillow monster...of DOOM
                                   "No Fair!", you call out as karma makes
                                a full circle.
                            "Love isn't fair
                           My dear"
                      I say, as I wrap
                  my tired arms
            around you
and fall into the bed,
where we lie
among the spoils
of battle

Sometimes when I hear about
the dreams of other people
I look at my own and think

I must be superficial.  In their
dreams there are winding paths
and reflections on still pools of water

There are subtle dew drops and
expansive fields of solitude.  They
speak of introspection and self growth

When I hear of the dreams of others,
I wonder what I can reflect on in
my own dreams and can think of
nothing

Then, when I'm depressed at
these thoughts that my mind
is playing against my will
I remember

I wrestled a shark.  how awesome is that?

It was a Wednesday night
in the city, in a shoddy bar
that was pretending to be
a trendy one.

I sat at a table along the
wall, trying my best to look
good while sitting on a stool,
which is a difficult task for
those who know what I'm
talking about.

I was on my third beer when
he sat down.  I'd seen him here
before.  He had dark black mess
of hair that somehow suited a
thin framed face and onyx eyes

He had a strong jaw, a quick
smile, and always seemed to
be wearing a faded bomber
jacket with the initials CMJ
sewn onto the front pocket.

He took a sip of his drink,
and took a long look at me.
"You don't look like much
of a risk taker".  He paused.
Another sip.

It took me a moment to
realize that he was waiting
for me to answer.  "Oh..uh.."
I thought about it for a second.
"I don't suppose I am.  I guess
I've always played it safe"

He casually stroked the stubble
on his face as he finished his drink.
"How's that workin' out for ya?"
"It keeps things simple"
"You smoke?"
"Nah, bad for your health"

He smiled a big smile as he
pulled out a pack and lit one
up.  He pointed over to a
group of girls 2 tables over.
"You see that brunette there?
She's been stealing glances
your way for the last hour"

I looked over, just in time to
see the girl in question quickly
turn back toward her friends,
hoping that I did and that I
did not notice her.  

"You should go talk to her"
"Nah, she's with her friends"
"What if she weren't"
"I dunno, maybe...I'd hate for her to say no"
"If you don't find out, you'll never know"
"If I don't go, she can't say no"

He looked at me, then my beer.
"Imagine that your beer is full of risk"
I looked at the amber concoction
"Now, if you take too much of it, then
you have a real chance of pain and
suffering the next morning, but you
also got a chance at the best night
of your life.
  You still drink it anyway, right?"

I glanced up
"Yeah, sure"

He finished his cigarette and put it out
in the cheap glass ash tray

"Lets say you didn't.  The thing to
remember is...If you don't take it,
someone else will"

In one fluid motion, he had swiped my
beer and poured it down his throat.  He
wiped his now sated lips with a grin.

"Come on, are you serious?"
"I'm absolutely serious.  The
question is, are you?"  

He stood up and walked up to the
pretty brunette.  Within minutes
she was laughing at his jokes and
forgetting about the man she was
thinking of minutes before

Two tables down, that man sat
in front of an empty beer glass,
realizing that the words of a
complete stranger were truer
than the ones he'd been telling
himself almost his entire life.

I needed another drink

A man was invited to his boss's house for dinner.
The dinner was fabulous, made by a private chef
and served by the family butler.  It was, all in all,
a wonderful evening.

At the end of the meal, the man saw his host
collecting all the table scraps from the table.

"What are you doing?" asked the man
"Ah, well whatever I don't eat, I give to the butler and the chef."
"They can't buy their own food?"
"Well no, I pay them in scraps"
"That's terrible!"
"Why?  I eat my meal, I usually leave enough for them to live off of, unless I forget"
"Unless you forget?"
"Well, yeah...I mean a few glasses of wine and that food is as good as gone"
"You see nothing wrong with this?"
"Hmm...no.  Should I?"
"You are feeding your staff table scraps!  The amount they're getting is miniscule!  It's a miracle they haven't sued you!"
"Aha! I do see your point.  It is a rather meager amount.  Fortunately, since I'm such a clever fellow...I have a solution"
"You mean to give your staff full meals to eat?  Maybe pay them with money instead?"
"Haha, no no my simple man.  I'll just have them cook and serve more food!"
"What."
"Well it's rather simple.  If the amount of food that is cooked and served is increased, and I eat the same amount, then what's left over will be equivalent of a full meal!  Brilliant!"
"Well...yes...but what if you get drunk on wine and eat all of that food"
"I'm sure that I would never do such a thing.  Probably"
"Probably"
"Well, one can't always predict these things"
"So instead of giving them a fair meal, you'd rather them put in more effort and time so that they 'might' see an increase in their rations?"
"I know.  I should get a Nobel prize for this stuff"
"Or commited"
"What?"
"Um...commended"
"Quite right"

Bro  ken  Po     ems
a re of  ten  dif   fi cult
to  co   mpr e h en  d


B    ut ..... .... .. .
So ar e
b  ro  k  enh  e  ar  ts
bro ke np r o  mi se s
            a n d
b r ok   end   re am s

I walked to the place today
the place where our bridge
   used to be.  
It's still hidden
deep within my mind.  I
know the way to the spot
all too well.

I stand and look across the chasm

The structures that anchored our bridge
to the canyon wall are now overgrown
  with ivy and vines.  The once
mighty body of the bridge itself
   lies a thousand feet below, slowly
eaten away by the river of change.
The river that also eats away at our
canyon walls, pushing us ever further
      apart.

I remember when we built that bridge.
I saw you across the ravine.  You didn't
notice me, you were too busy smelling
the tiger lilies.  I was in awe.
I felt like a fool pretending to be wise
I felt like a boy pretending to be a man

I yelled towards you, hoping you'd notice.
You did.
You smiled.
I almost died right there.

I sent you love poems on kites
You always blushed as you read

Then one day I threw over a line.
It was just the beginning.
Over the months, I built upon that
line, until I had constructed a
mighty bridge to
Span the gap


I was finally together with you
Everything was right.  My life
was filled with a soothing light.


I remember the night our bridge collapsed.
I remember the hateful words and venemous,
acidic thoughts that became kindling.
We spit bile and gasoline soaked barbs at each other
soaking the bridge with discontent.
We hurled insults at breakneck speeds, creating
sparks with the collisions.  The result was a towering
inferno between us.  It was fueled by contempt and
selfishness.  

Still we shouted, unaware of the permanence of what
we were doing

By the time we came to our senses, we were too late.
The bridge creaked and bowed as the fire consumed
it.  I remember the last thing I saw before it fell.  I saw
your eyes staring at me through the flames, your
beautiful eyes lit up by the moment.  The tears
reflected off of your face.

The bridge finally plummeted into the abyss below.  It
was a falling star of potential energy.  What we could
have had. I cringe when I think of how black the river
looked that night.


Now I'm standing here at the spot that it all
started.  I look up, and I see you on the other
side again.  You're wearing a white dress and
a smile.

I smile back.
My heart glides.

Ready to begin anew

Let's play word association, brain

Sure

Anger

Carrots

Vegetables

Parachute Pants

MC Hammer

Sub Prime Mortage

Are you even trying?

Nicolas Cage.  Oh wait...that one actually made sense

You can be an ******* sometimes

Says the guy playing word association with himself

...Touché

*Lenny Bruce

One day, I asked a chef
how he made his food taste
so delicious

He said to me
"It's simple.  I carefully
mix spices with meats,
fruits, and vegetables,
then I combine them
in a particular order,
during which I apply
heat at certain times
and temperatures."

I was awestruck.

Then I asked a painter
how she created such
beautfiful images

She said to me
"It's simple.  I mix certain
colors together, then I place
those colors on specific spots
on the canvas in a particular
order using a various number
of stroke techniques."

I was amazed

Finally, I asked a writer
how he wrote such beautiful
and inspiring lines

He paused and looked far off
into the distance, contemplating
what wise advice to impart to me



Then he took a hit off his ****

"I dunno, I guess I just
write, like, how I feel
and stuff..."

"Totally", I replied, as I bit into a ham sandwich

Open your eyes, child

It's not a dull gray world you live in
See the color of life refracted through curiosity

This world is so much more than a
monotonous day to day existence

Every second of every day there are
mysteries waiting for you to solve

There are questions
burning for answers

What is that star in the night sky?
I'm glad you asked
Keep asking questions
Always ask questions

Never let up in your search for understanding
Ask the same question of different people
Question their answers
Challenge your perceptions
Keep Asking Questions

Can you?
Should you?
Why not?

Don't settle for an answer.
Find more questions.
Questions will shape your life
will alter your course
more than answers ever could

Answers are only questions that no one asks anymore

A Fever.

The kind that consumes you completely
and totally.  The kind that taunts you by
playing with physics.  

You're so hot, yet as you throw off the covers...you shiver
You've been sweating for hours...yet your mouth is barren of moisture

You lie as still as possible.  All movement equals pain.
Don't roll over
Don't scratch that itch
Don't even think about it
Curl into a ball and
Embrace the stillness

You're delerious as you flit
between wakefulness and sleep
never quite sure where you are
at any given time

Your dreams are drawn in the style of Dali
Colors everywhere, bright and vivid.  
The beauty makes you want to cry
To scream at the heavens,
Yell until your voice gives out.
Why?  Why are we forced to live
in such a bleak and dreary world
when such beauty lies
just beyond our eyelids.

The heavens answer.

You wake up in agony.  Your head is
Spinning
Thumping
Pounding so hard that your eyesight vibrates

For a brief moment, everything makes sense
Everything in the universe comes together
into a brilliant cosmic speck of enlightenment

It's wonderful and terrible.  
It's beautiful and disgusting
Your mind is reeling
The comprehension is too much

You love the pain
The pain is freedom

As it envelopes you,
the realization hits you
that you won't remember

You scramble to write it down
As much as you can before the
dullness replaces the fire

It won't matter

You'll read the words that you've
written on the paper much like
an archaeologist reads ancient
heiroglyphics.

Knowing, but not understanding.

Pain wins, you lose.  Unconsciousness

Then you wake up,
still dizzy from the fever.

You
Look around your room
and wonder why you
Feel

Empty

1.
When she kissed him
he lit up like a firework
shot into the sky
and exploded in jubilant splendor

She was not entirely pleased,
as he now rained down upon her.

2.
When he smiled at her
she felt as if the warmth
of a thousand suns were
inside of her chest.

Luckily there was
a fire extinguisher
nearby



Choose your metaphors
with care

Some bridges we're burning in passionate blazes
Some bridges are collapsing in various stages
Still more fall to causes unknown to the ages

They can be rebuilt with patience and time

I'll span that gap, if you'd just throw me a line

Life is  an  amazingly  wonderful   maze,  when   you  t h i n k  about it.
You                                  start   at  the  entrance  n a i v e   and  unaware
of what lies within.         It's  easy to c h e a t in this maze, if  you choose
to walk the e d g e          until  you  get to the  end,  but h o n e s t l y it's
more exciting  just          to  j u m p right  in.  Sure,  you   may  run  into
dead ends                        every   once in awhile,  e v e r y o n e  has  their
dead ends, but it's           easy  for  you to  turn back around, r e t r a c e
your steps and go                             on.   At    times,   the   maze   makes
you   want  to  pull   your  hair        out,  but   for   the  most   part,  you
respect  the  challenge    that it        offers you.You begin to  r e a l i z e
that l i f e                                            isn't  about   finishing  the   m a z e          
it's  about        the path you take to get there. It's  about  The  t h i n g s
you do on       your way  there. It's about all  of the amazing  p e o p l e  
you  meet       while you're travelling.  I think people   forget   that quite
a   bit,   so       the next time you see someone racing through their maze
trying   as       hard as they can to reach the end, remind them that  they
are    only       doing  themselves  a  disservice.   Remind  them that  l i f e
is      what       make of it
                  **You

The stars in your eyes are exceptionally bright
My  love has nowhere to hide
They light up your path as you dance through the night
while I struggle to keep by your side

The stars in your eyes, they sparkle and shine
they lead me through the darkness and gloom
They gently remind me to cherish our time
They allow something special to bloom

The stars in your eyes, they burn through my fear
My insecurities have melted away
They seem to see through me, as you draw closer near
Those stars, they beg me to stay

The stars in your eyes, they hold a secret
one kept since our love began
Your breath at my ear, you beg me to keep it..
My lips meet with yours, once again

Little Miss Muffet,
she certainly loved it;
rolling with boys in the hay

She always had company
but now her belly's a bump, you see
The father?  No one could say

Why is it that we fall in love?

Is love a trap, a giant pit that we unsuspectingly trip into?
Do we lie at the bottom peering at the light above?

Is love like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute?
Do we flail helplessly as we plummet to the ground?

Falling is painful, uncertain, and something we try to avoid.
Except in the case of love.

I don't like falling.

I think I'm going to grow into love instead...

Last week I sold a bunch of my memories

to help pay the rent.  It was either that or my car.

I gave them 146  rarely used memories, they gave me $40.88…

I thought it was a fair deal. I mean, I wasn’t using them…

A couple weeks later I was curious

to see how they were selling, so I walked to the second-hand shop

that had made the deal with me.  I saw an elderly woman looking

at my memories.  She picked one up, stared at it disapprovingly, then

tossed it casually back in the pile.  She did this a couple more times, then

walked away.  I waited until she had left, then walked up and picked

up the one she was looking at.  It was a memory of kissing and elbows.

Whispers and smiles.

I stood perplexed with the memory in my hands, wondering to myself what

brought about the look of disapproval.  To each their own, I suppose…

I hung around that day, trying to get into the heads of

those who were looking into mine…with little success.

There were laughs, tears, and the occasional snarky comment.  I watched a memory of driving

down an empty interstate with the windows down on an exquisite summer day sell

for 28 cents.  I saw a memory of climbing trees and rope swings leave with an old man

who wanted to remember youth.   A girl with dreadlocks in her twenties took a fuzzy memory

of less than legal implications.

I came by every day until they were all but gone, only a few stragglers here and there;  One of a hospital bed,

another of a meatloaf dinner in January.

I really don’t like meatloaf.

Your whisper traces
lines through the air
playing games with my ears
without a care

It enters my head
and tickles my brain
it's soft
it's sweet
it's soothing as rain

It surrounds my heart
like a blanket of peace
I'm filled with the warmth
of passion's release

If your whisper alone
can affect me this much
I can only imagine
what you'd do with your
touch

I fell off of cloud nine today.

Everyone talks about cloud nine,
but they rarely talk about those
other clouds.

Right now, I'm on cloud thirty-seven,
after making an error in judgement.
Cloud thirty-seven is not quite as enjoyable

Thirty seven is slate tinted and full of regrets.
It's as if everything has been covered in a haze
of negativity.  It reeks of rejection and failure.
The people here look like lifeless shells.  I wonder
what I look like to them.

The worst part, I think, about cloud thirty-seven
is that I can still see cloud nine quite clearly.  I can
still see everyone up there smiling blissfully, save
for the few who are looking down at me with pity.
Faces stare at me almost smirking, as if the same thing
could never happen to them.

I can look up at cloud nine and it seems so far away.
It's not unreachable, mind you, but I know all the
blood and sweat
expended to get up there previously was for nothing.  
I know that to get back up there requires the same
repetitive ******* that I've been through
so many times before.  

Even if I manage to land back on cloud nine, I'm always
just a single mistake from falling from it yet again..
I've been here to thirty-seven enough times where it is
becoming uncomfortably familiar.  
I fear of becoming complacent.

Perhaps I'm fooling myself.  Maybe I need to stop aspiring
for cloud nine and pick a different one.

Cloud 28 might be nice.

It's all well and good
to sit and wait for your
knight in shining armor

Passing up all who
don't meet your
particular standards

However,
It might be good to keep in mind
that most men don't own horses

three men standing in a snow-covered field
trying to recapture their youth
these men standing in this snow covered field
haven't a clue what to do

As boys, they owned this domain
It was their land to tame
It was magical, and theirs for the taking

They were crazy, wild, and free
They could not possibly be
the gents who stand here freezing and shaking

Three men standing in a snow covered field
quietly staring in space
These men standing in this snow covered field
they try to remember this place

They indiscriminately shift
they just don't know what's different
about this scene that belongs to their past

they used to slip and slide on the ice
They never thought twice
of these things that were not meant to last

Three men standing in a snow covered field
look at each other and smile
These men standing in this snow covered field
are suddenly kids for awhile

When that beautiful smile
lands on your radiant face
When my uncertain hands
find the curve of your waist
When our curious tongues
fill the in-between space

      These are the things
       that make my heart race

Those soft loving fingers
as they trace poems on my chest
Those enrapturing eyes
how they leave me refreshed
Those bountiful lips
and their quiet caress

       All the ways you amaze me
       I may never express

He's a real good kid, he keeps his head down
She's pretty and polite and fun to be around
but when they're together and ain't no one in sight
They get down like animals in the middle of the night

He's walking in the door
She's lookin' to score,
knocks him to the floor
says baby do ya want some more
yeah, do ya want some more?

There's a trip slip to the bed
dip as the fly unzip, hands rip
off shoes and dress
before too long it's a
***** hot mess
put the bed to the test
as we press
You hear him confess

I love it, love it when we do the monkey lovin'
With the nails, biting, pushin' and the shovin'
between the sheets is as hot as an oven
as we become one again and again and again and again

She wraps around his waist
and he's now lost in space
taste the sweat
don't waste a second
this place is heaven
while they do the dance
lost in a trance
their faces merge
as they're on the verge
oh they're on the Verge
yeah they're on THE VERGE
as she yells out

I love it, love it when we do the monkey lovin'
With the nails, biting, pushin' and the shovin'
between the sheets is as hot as an oven
as we become one again and again and again and again

They relax between the sheets
curling their feet
hearts catch a beat
their lips meet once more
before

zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Life moves fast.

No, really.  Life moves at an insane speed

We're currently hurtling through space
at 2.7 million miles and hour.  By the
time you've finished reading this one
sentence, you have moved far enough
to go from Seattle to New York and back

Just sitting at your desk

By the time you are twenty five you
will have traveled approximately
five hundred ninety billion miles
from the spot at which you took
your first breath.

That's a lot of mileage

I like to think that there are
tiny remnants of you and I
floating throughout our universe.
Atoms that have rubbed off of us,
that have fused and split with other
atoms, eventually making their way
off of our planet into space.

There's a trail of you spanning hundreds
of billions of miles all leading back to one
point in space and time where you existed
for a fraction of a second.  No one else on
earth could ever have come into being in
that spot.

A thousandth of a second and you're already
a mile away.

That's your moment.  That's where you began

I'd like to think that's where we go
once we've gone.

We came from the stars

It seems an appropriate
ending

Are you ready brain?

Hmm?

Are you ready to break the boundaries of thought
and action?  Are you ready to create passages
that move even the heaviest of hearts?  Are
you prepared to exceed expectations?
Are you chomping at the bit
to create  breathtaking
pictures with words?
Are you prepared
to write?

No.

Fine.

She loves me, She loves me not
She wants me

No, wait....

A second thought

Indecision
Tunnel vision

As she twirls the flower
between her fingertips
              her finger rips
another petal
         Watch it fall
watch it settle
Watch it settle to the ground
Where it never
never ever will be found

Can you see it?
the pile on the floor?
her wilted lovers
her lovers from before

She holds the empty flower in her hand
she simply doesn't understand

Why the spark is there no more
Why she is now so suddenly bored

He's no longer lovely to her eyes
She doesn't fully realize

Why things just aren't quite the same
and
Why she's the one
The one to blame

I'm sitting here in this cold steel chair
I'm sitting here in this dim and dank room
My hands are tied behind my back
        with barbed wire.

You're standing over me with a rusted scalpel
You've cut open my chest
You are examining its contents

You make an incision into my heart
You stand back and watch
as blood spurts onto the grungy wall,
          creating sanguine portraits of you
                  in various states of undress.

                          I always told you I was talented.

You don't even notice.  Figures.

You scrawl notes into a battered notebook
about my state of mind.  You're trying to
figure out the formula or the equation to
explain my nature in a way you can grasp.

You smile that porcelain smile
You tell me you'll need to run
        just a few more tests
              
as you pull out a syringe
that would make Nikki Sixx cringe.

Look at that, I made a clever rhyme for you.

Of course, you don't notice.  You're busy
jamming that monstrosity into my neck.

You're injecting yourself into me so that
I won't ever be rid of you.  It's a black tar
that now fills my bloodstream.

You could have been a bit more gentle

My hands tug at the wire
causing blood to eagerly
spill to the floor

I pass out.

When I wake up,
    I'm naked and cold and alone
        I'm on the side of the highway
    I'm trying to hitch a ride
        as far away from you as I can.

You sewed a twenty to my ***

You always did have a good sense of humor

Let us fly somewhere terrifying and wonderful
where supernovas explode in the darkness
Name the place
Name the time
Don't forget
to make a rhyme

We'll be there faster than you can say
Allonsy

You'll see

There's no time nor relative dimension in space
That I'd want to be without your pretty face

We have the future, the present, the long ago past
The beginning, the end; The first and the last

We'll trek through the universe in moments so fleeting
You've no idea how fast my hearts will be beating

We'll adventure
We'll explore
If you'd just open
that door

All of them will open, there's no place for locks
One's options are limitless
when you have

A Blue Box

You spot her on the dance floor
Her milky skin reflects the glowing
light of green lasers.  Her eyes are
closed, as she absorbs the beat. The
bass travels across the floor and up
through her legs as she tilts her
head up in ecstasy.

She is in a world all her own. She
drowns out the crowd, within her
own frequency she moves her feet
to the beat that the DJ creates. Her
hips sway, creating vacuums of
energy and drawing people closer
to her essence.

She sweats  away her feelings of
insecurity, loneliness, and regret.
The acid on her tongue does not
corrode her skin, though it does
seem to melt away her inhibitions.  
Maybe her clothes, if she's in the mood

She knows all the boys are watching
her. Maybe if she's lucky, there's a man
as well. Someone who can attune
himself to her rhythm and grasp
her complexity. There will be sweet
synchronization as they create sin
waves in between the sheets.

This is her release
Tomorrow
She will be a hair stylist
She will be a nurse
She will be a lawyer

But tonight?

She's alive

(Warning:  Explicit and mildly disturbing)

The door to the room burst open as two lovers twisted into the
gaudy motel room, causing the roaches to scatter to safety.
His tongue was exploring her mouth as he pushed her up against
the wall.  She wrapped her legs around his waist in anticipation.

They made their way to the bed, ******* as they went.  His brown
leather jacket landed on the back of a chair, followed by his shirt.  Her
blouse fluttered carelessly to the floor.  He pushed against her and then...

a pause

He saw what she was looking at and smiled.  "Don' worry babe, I only use
that on people I don't like.  I like you".  He took the gun out of the waistband
of his pants and set it on the nightstand.  Hesitation, but soon more clothes
were shed until there were no more.   His eyes hungrily explored her body,
preparing for a night to remember.  She smiled and bit her lip as his eyes
looked her over.  "You know what really gets me off?".  He grunted in
response, to which she whispered in his ear.  He laughed.  "**** you're
*****, girl".  He acquiesced, though.  His mouth went on her breast, followed
by a soft bite.  She gasped. He was shocked when liquid trickled onto his tongue.  
He pulled back and looked up.  She was just staring at him, alluring eyes begging him to continue.  He felt slightly light headed.  He stopped.  He tried moving away, but he again found himself at her breast.

Another taste.

That feeling of light-headedness again.  Several times this happened, he tried to start the deed that he had come here for, only to find himself back for more.  He slowly realized that he couldn't move away.  He was trapped.  He now suckled in earnest.  His brain screamed for him to stop, but it was out of his control now.  She stroked his hair, traced her fingers along the scars on his back.  Bullet wounds.  "It's ok, sweetie.  You're a bad man, but we're gonna make it better, aren't we".  His thoughts raced, but there was nothing he could do.  
His body was betraying him.  He was paralyzed.

A shudder

He felt odd, his whole body felt as if he was being wrapped in a warm blanket.  Soothing voices lulling him to sleep.  His body relaxed.  He felt himself slowly shrinking.  He felt all his memories rushing by him, unaware that they were slowly being erased.  He was in his late 30s, yet he now looked to be no older than 17.  He forgot about the first time he'd shot someone in cold blood.  He forgot about his father drunkenly beating him.  He forgot nights in the emergency room.  His body continued to shrink, as his memories left.  He was no older than a toddler now.  He forgot the first woman he struck in anger.
He forgot becoming his father.  He curled into the fetal position. The woman sat
up now, and wrapped him in her arms, rocking him slowly.  "There there...that's better now.  You gonna be a good man this time.  We keep tryin' 'til we get it right, won't we?"

He was an infant.  Newly born.  Finally he released.  He looked up at the woman he would now call mother.  It wasn't the same woman that he had come into the room with. She smiled down at him, earning a yawn from the babe.

"That's right, you go to sleep now.  Things'll be different in the morning"

She kissed his forehead and wrapped him up in his old leather jacket while she dressed.  When she was finished, she looked around the room.  Seeing that everything was accounted for, she picked up the child and vanished into the night, determined to get it right this time.

I'm overcome with sadness

It's not the biting sadness
  The choked sobs
that are brought about
by the jolt of a sudden death
or the fresh sting of
a broken relationship

It's not the aching sadness
  The somber introspection
of missed opportunities,
of wasted days
of long lost loves

It's not the oppressive sadness
that depression brings,
wrapping around your head
in suffocating silence
that leaves you numb to the world
that makes you believe that happiness was
only a fairy tale

Rather...

It's the warm sadness
as the tinges of autumn begin to show
and you realize that the summer
was never meant to last forever

It's a familiar sadness as you realize
that everyone changes
and the person you once were
no longer exists, for better or worse

It's the sadness that nostalgia
tows along with fond memories
of summer vacations
of drunken antics
of foolish lust
of fading friendships

The sadness that tells you that
"Things will never be this way again"

But also reminds you that they were never supposed to be

   and that's perfectly alright

They stared at each other for a very long time.

Such a very long time

He, collecting his thoughts
She, biting her lip

Time slowed like molasses, like settling dust

"Funny, isn't it?" He said

She looked up

"Isn't it amazing how hundreds of thousands of innocent decisions we make from the time we're born mold and shape the people we eventually become?  How one single fluttering thought becomes an unsteady action, which then becomes a rock steady habit?  That habit, repeated over and over again throughout our life until it's merely second nature.  Something that seems so simple to change, so inanely effortless...yet it is not so.  It's become so ingrained in your psyche that your body rejects your attempts to take control and break the mold.  You've become a slave, unable to waiver from the ditch you've dug yourself into.  I'm sorry I can't be the man you wanted me to be.  I'm so very sorry".

She stood there, silently regarding him for a moment.  Her long auburn hair fell across her face as she took a deep breath.

"That's wonderful, dear, but I still don't understand why you can't just learn to put the toilet seat down when you've finished"

I see her at the party
surrounded by her friends. She's clearly busy..

That's OK, I just need time to work out some
incredibly clever and witty banter.  I'm good
with words.  I can weave letters together into
aural silk.  In the meantime....I should get

Another drink

I see her at the window. an inebriated man
is attempting to woo her, unsuccessfully.
He clearly is unaware of his boorish nature

She looks on.  

I know when I talk to her
I will make her heart dance and her ears
will be massaged with the gentle sounds
of love and adoration.  In the meantime
my cup is empty...I need

Another drink

I see her in the hallway.  The night is nearly over
I walk to her, straight as I'm able through blurry vision

She notices me

I open my mouth, ready to spill forth a tidal
wave of intellect, a hurricane of insight.

"mumblecutemumbleprettymumble"

She walks away

sigh

I need another drink.

I've come alive
    with the night
young, fresh, and unspoiled

I see the pale, naked moon
    as it peeks at me through
          a window in the wall of clouds

            it basks the streets in ivory hues,
          competing with the sickly yellow
        of the street lights

I'm alive
I feel no desire nor obligation
    to sit quietly, to stare meekly
         my veins trickle with intoxication
             electricity in my fingertips

I'm seeking
allowing my heartbeat
to lead me
                to feed me

             My gaze cuts like diamonds
           my grin gleams like steel

      When you look into my eyes
tell me, what do you feel?

is your heart just like mine?
    Do you feel them beating in time?

We're tripping
   We'll fall
       We're hitting the wall

Your skin tastes like velvet
    My dear
        you have me enthralled


        We have only begun
   We have time 'til the sun
Wait and you'll see

how to be

                   Alive

Just like me

I had questions on death
I had questions on life
I had questions about
poverty
hatred
and strife

I was told I should visit a
particularly peculiar man
who would set me right
who would give me a plan

I ran

I crossed mountains and oceans
and jungles and lagoons
I swam and I hiked and I trekked.

I finally found him in a field
a nondescript field of Indonesia
He sat cross legged within a hut.

A hut not made of mud
A hut not made of sticks

A hut made of hair.

A hut made of his own hair.
Still connected to his head.

He wore no clothes, but his
beard was so long that he
was able to wrap it about
himself as a shawl.

Interspersed throughout
the hair were baubles and
trinkets, folded notes and
photos.  Gifts from those
who had visited him before

It was a sight to behold

I was in awe

I had barely a chance
to utter a syllable when
he opened his eyes

and stared at me
and stared   through   me
as if in a trance

Then he spoke.

The answering of thousands
of questions had clearly taken
a toll on the man's voice, yet
his lilted rasp was somehow
soothing.

"You have questions, my boy?
You wish to know my secrets?
Do you want to know the key
        to life?"

Yes.  Yes I did.

He smiled

"Young man, I have sat here
for seventy-eight years, focusing
         my entire life and all my
conscious thought on that very
thing.  My wife supported me
until her death.  My sons still
support me.  They visit me
often and make sure I stay
     healthy and fed.  I have
weathered famine and storms,
sickness and droughts searching
      for the answer you seek."

He closed his eyes

"I have forgone a life of
passion and comfort and
instead focused within myself
to find this answer.  In all
this time I have only found
one thing to be true."

I waited for the answer

"Life is not meant to be
explained.  It is meant to
be experienced.  There
is no answer, only more
questions.  I swore not
to move from this spot
until I had discovered
what life meant.  My
hair and beard are
constant reminders
of my foolishness."

He smiled

"Go and live"

and surely I did


__
*Acersecomic - n - One whose hair has never been cut

Your smile made my heart melt
So inconsiderate
For you knew just how I felt
then made a mess of it

Your laugh made my tongue tie up
It was awfully rude
I have all these things to say, my love
and there's nothing I can do

Your beauty made my eyes light up
It is so horribly unfair
I see the wonder hidden inside
your long, entrancing stare

Everything you do, and moreso everything you say
Causes my senses and my body to act in the strangest ways
It's quite alright, I really don't mind, you make it feel like home
I'd rather be crazy for you, than sane and all alone

I eat the right food, I have the right friends
I buy the right clothes to keep up with the trends

I know the right people, I'm right in my head
Every morning I get up on the right side of the bed

I write the right lines and play the right songs
I sing the right melody when I'm singin' along

But when I'm with you, suffice it to say
I want to do the wrong thing in all the right ways

I can't find the right words, so I'll let my lips speak
Heavy gasps are the only response that I need

I'm right in the moment and you're right there beside
upright and downright, from your side to mine

We're electric
It's hectic
I push and you pull
we both love it *****
put our feelings on hold

No more right, no more honor
No more straight and narrow

I want dark, I want sin
I want lust by the barrel-full

Let's make all the wrong choices
Let's do all the wrong things
Let's walk the bad path
  and learn what wrong
             really means

Pacing back and forth, picking up her
cast off clothing

telling him it's not her fault.

It was a heat wave, she didn't
have a chance, as her clothes
dripped off her into puddles
on the carpet.

She was unprepared

An earthquake shook her, and she
fell down to the rhythm.  Once it
started, there was no going back.

She was just along for the ride

It was a tsunami of passion, she
just was caught in the rip tide
of desire, along with her inhibitions.

She couldn't escape

A volcano erupted, and ignited
something terrible from within her.  

A tornado of emotions tore through
her and left her ravaged

She was lost and alone

It wasn't her fault!

If anyone is to blame, it's those ****
Asian Butterflies, causing all these

Unnatural disasters

We have a language, you and I
There are no words
They have no place

Our nouns are the soft kisses
down your neck
my hand brushing your hair
away from your face

our adjectives are the way
our legs entwine
how your toes curl towards mine
and how your arms wrap
around my back

Our verbs are found
in each others eyes
spoken through smiles
and punctuated with
gasps, whispers, and sighs

Our language
of touch
says more than any
spoken language
ever could.

Of course, like most languages
there are always exceptions
to the rule
You're allowed to say
I Love you

Let me tell you 'bout a man called Chicago Robinson
with eyes like jade and breath smell like Jameson
He dances with girls who have skin taste like Cinnamon
He don't think about life, 'cause he too busy livin' it

He came out of his momma croonin' smooth as Sinatra
His voice makes the noises that'll sure hypnotize ya
The girls they all dance to the beat cause they wanna
they slide up and down like they coated in butter

He don't got many clothes, but he's got his own style
His eyes pierce on through you, he got steel in his smile
When you meet him you might not know how to feel
He'll fix you up quick, and you'll be soarin' with eagles

Chicago does what he does when he do what he do
while he's tellin' his stories in the language of Blues
He don't care where he goes, don't have much to lose
So long as he has women, music, and *****

You like hearin' stories? he gotsa lots of 'em
You want a fight? Best be movin' on, son
He's the best and the worst inside of all of us
There just ain't no one else like Chicago Robinson

It's difficult to say when the spring finally ended

The only thing for certain
is that it did end, as we slipped
blissfully unaware, into winter and darkness.

From the highrise apartments in Chicago
to the mud huts baking in the African Sun
From the smiling skulls in the Paris Catacombs
To the open deserts of the great Outback

The wind whispered in the silence
past our giant walls, our empty monuments

past piles of leatherbound books
their pages continually flapping
as if begging to be read, just once more

The hard lines of the cities softened
as the carefully manicured lawns
grew out of check,
turning the skyline green


The human race liked to think we were driving the car
That we were in control
In reality, we were the child in the backseat
with the toy steering wheel

We expected to go out
with an awe-inspiring bang
with a roar of thunder
befitting our importance


Instead (or rather, accurately),
the planet ended silently and without much fuss

a mere footnote in the universe

Her words cleanse
they wash over him
like a wave and
he forgets that
the world is
wrong

for just a little while

Her words heal
they flow into
him like incense
and fill the cracks
of his soul with
hope

for just a little while

Her words radiate
they penetrate
his uncertain
heart and
allow him to
feel

for just a little while

Then she leaves
the world is wrong
the hope is gone
the feeling is numb

for a little while longer

When I gave you your heart back
        
                  You claimed it didn't fit right anymore
                         You claimed it didn't feel like it used to
                          

Now I understand what you meant.

My girlfriend snores.  Loudly.
Some of the sounds that come
out of her mouth could be put
into a horror movie.

Recently, she's started snoring
in Latin.  Don't ask, I don't know.
Anyway, somehow every Tuesday

She summons a demon

At first, we were both shocked.
The Demon and I, that is. She
sleeps harder than she snores.

The Demon was apparently
just chilling down in Hell and
then Bam.

In some dude's room where
it sounded like a rather large
animal was dying.

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly
amicable at first.

Things may have been said
Objects may have been thrown
Souls may have been threatened

but....

Tuesday is now Poker night

Don't blame your dreams
For life's sudden twists
Nor condemn them as silly
things you once wished

A dream's reason for being
it's purpose and aim
is to bring you fulfillment
not just money or fame

They gave you hope through depression
they gave you a path through the trees
they were there to remind you
of all you could be

How can you stare down your dreams
How can you stand there and say
that it's the fault of your dreams
that you've ended this way

Your dreams asked you for nothing
They stood by you, steadfast
when the wine overflowed
when you'd broken your glass

Your dreams didn't do this
they made no decisions
they only showed you potential
they showed you a vision

There are few things in this world
as depressing or meager
Than a man with no hope
Than a dream with no dreamer