Convinced that there is no life after death,
Convinced that no god watches over me,
Convinced my actions never really count.

I don't believe.

But for some blasted reason there is one person,
Tried true and tested rigorously,
And this one woman I trust. I believe.

I believe in love.

The Consensus in Silence.

It comes when no man speaks.
When no rain falls and no gun sounds.

It comes when you least expect it.
Awaiting the response, anticipation broken.

It comes when a question is asked.
And not one, not the strongest soul can answer.

It comes when a question is asked to all of us.
And not one voice is heard.
But thousands are felt.

To dare not tell the ones I dream of
That I do
Is to revoke a right they have earned.

You stuck in my brain,
The lot of you,
And it is my thoughts you now burn.

I feel guilty for withholding
so few words,
But I can't bring myself to speak.

The effects have lingered,
Their personalities
Every single one of them is unique.

I wake with their faces and
I stare at my phone.
These are just memories
That I can postpone.

You avert your eyes like I wronged,
But I did not,
    Did I?
I’ve waited so long,
You fell, and I caught,
    I am not the bad guy.
You want to push your chances,
Don’t.
    You will not succeed.
I don’t hold your glances,
You just won’t,
    But still I plead,
    And bleed.
    And give,
    And live,
    For You.

Dry is a color,
It is a texture,
A feeling.

Dry is a well of no measure.

I don't know why you take this time
I don't like it one bit,
I try to act like I don't care
Like I don't give a ****,

But I can't help myself
I care too much to fake,
I want your company with me
I don't like this new ache.

One of those morning where I want to cry
Over one condescending comment
And curl up into a ball
And die a little.

When I close my eyes
             I see you;
                          Every time I blink,
Your sweet smile
             Your soft voice;
                          Always makes me think,
What’d it be like with you here
             Always by my side;
                          Though what I crave most is a wink
             From your gleaming eyes,

From a distance
             I see you live life
                          To your greatest reach,
Always yourself
             No one else;
                          Not caring what they preach,
You never fail to find a way
             To frame all of your thoughts;
                          With a pen you break each
             Boundary that they ever taught.

-November 2012

If they ask how you are they really do care.

Void of self
Void of this self, ejected
Repress this
And come across it later.

Don't.

Petroleum papers.

I think I'll take that one step further,
                                                        ­        one day.
Out of this box,
                           into the world.
Out of my mind,
                           into my thoughts.
I think I want to get better one day,
                                                            ­  maybe.
I like being broken,
                                  it's most of what I know.
I know that touch.

I know this sweet scent,
It comes from your timber hair,
This euphoria.

Two wings on her back,
Shredded by a devil,
Healing in safety.

Love is a harsh word,
It causes so much hatred,
Unbalanced feelings.

I once compared knights,
Walking among the armor,
Wings crushed by my fear.

This freedom so great,
Weightless as the air we breathe,
Never a soul like you.

A soul like that boy,
Impossible to amend,
He has no mind still.

A ghost parading,
Traversing with no good thoughts,
Only a black fire.

My levity; you,
A cherub, my shield,
I love you, Angel.

Right here, on this ground,
A war unseen, a retreat,
An open defense.

Unguarded, weakened,
I lay in this angel’s arms,
My only support.                                -Marshall Hiatt, February 2013

A hippy sits in the corner.
But he’s never smoked ***.

A bandage drapes his chest.
But he’s never been shot.

The bandage is unseen.
And so was the bullet.

The sound was so silent.
He didn’t even know it.

His diagnosis: Betrayal.
His prescription: Ink.

His past: Too near.
His future: Unclear.

His eyes keep staring.
He never blinks.

            -December 28th 2013

It has a rhythm
.
(period)

I hate that word
It, I hate
Vowels,
None.

Rhythm
Doesn't have itself.
Ameta.
Arhthmia.
Abeneficiary.
Maleficiary, actually.
Sinrhythmia.
Sinrhymia.
Sin
Los reglas.
Measure thing by the size of your thought, not
An inch.
Or centimeter.
I prefer the brits.
But not the hippies
I am one.
we are all one.
One with

A-god.
Not "a" god.
A-god.
As in.
Athea.
Without-thea.

God doesn't wear a suit.
Why should we.
*Cause I look ******* fiiiiiine.

I have liquid in my lungs.
I know this because I can hear it, feel it.
I smell zucchini and cheese and all I want to do it kiss her
And tell her that the teal shirt she wore when we met
Still shows up in my dreams.

Every single day I ache
To call some place up there,
And order an orchid for your door.

I am reminded in my limp and my shrug
That I love you.
I am reminded in the fact that I would be willing to suffer nightmares every single night of my life
If only you slept next to me.

You smell like the woman I want to marry,
And your strong shoulders feel like the ones I want to see every morning
When you sit up on the bed.

I'm willing to go the distance.

Normalcy is a noun.
A word we want.
Something special.
Something certain.
A preview, a peek at the past.


Normalcy is
         Narcissism.

I can compare it to staring through invisible glass,
At something indescribable, a star, a kiss, a birth,
It’s hard to measure,
but I think it’s safe to say you don’t have to.
A walk down tranquility lane, a warm sun high,
It smells like peaches, with a slight breeze.
The grass does not stain your clothes, it is soft,
It is kind.

-May 31st 2013

A shackle by some other name,
A memory in mine,
A mind not my own would perceive them the same,
But this good memory is hard to find.

“Plainly, no love,” she told me,
Then I will wait till you can see,
I dream of you, waking and sleeping,
I skip food and company for your needing.

Drifting thoughts manifest in the form of inkm
They are the planks of my boat,
With no words holding me, I sink,
With no glue, nail or latch, I cannot float.

The sea, my metaphor for Beau,
Looking down, deep, far down, shows blue,
And in the darkness of depth, I can’t hold you,

My last words, I pray to undo.
                I’m sorry I hurt you.



Use the stars to so North at sea,
Use the moon, the sun, the broken compass.

                                                   Drift.


-September 26th 2013

"I don't want to be forgotten."
"I don't want to forget you."

*It's too bad things change.

A belief in safety
Can limit potential.
Living in a circle
Can threaten progress.
Listeing to others
Gives a perception of
Maximums, minimums.

Solitaire played alone
Is the best solitaire.
Problems we face alone
Will usually end best.
Solitary people,
Ones who prefer alone,
Make me the happiest.

It’s only two eyes and two lips,
    I tell myself.
She’s part of your past, stop worrying,
    I lie.
Look the other way and it won’t hurt,*
    Ouch.

Broken.
Shattered.
Pieces that fall.

Scars.
Sadness.
She makes him enthralled.

Punishment.
Torture.
She limits herself.

Please.
Listen.
Don't do this to yourself.

Believe.
In love.
Love oneself,
          Always.

         Happiness.
         Will stay.

The apricot tree,
So solemn in its art of creation,
Yielding fruit by square yard,
And flower blossom come spring
Holding no pleasure in its perception.

If I am the apricot tree in the fields at dawn,
You are the ladder,
The picker,
The cook,
The sugar and pan
And the jar of apricot jam,

Preserved in its perfection
For hungry mouth and seeking hands
To endulge in, come harvest.
You are the countertop in the kitchen
And the residue of spills upon it,
Caused so carefree by fingers excited
To savor God's gift
Of orange fruit
And good will.

You are the warm home
Occupied by voices and laughter
And children so eager for the day
Their screams of joy echo each room.

You are the eyes onlooking
From inside the car,
Gazing out a moving window
At the bountiful apricot blossoms,
You are the artist and beholder,
The eyes of beauty
Which turn the tree's mundane
And ordinary life
Into poetry and light of human love.
The botanist, the lover of fruit and flesh,
Picking perfect apricots,
Plucking them not only at pure ripe
But all season,
For the sake of texture and sweet.

For the tree,
Bearing fruit and blossom
Has transcended from routine
To holiday.

Such a pleasure,
Being plucked and picked,
Pleased and appreciated in true apricot
Passion.

The tree loves the lover,
And the lover loves the tree.

I tried to write last night about my mother,
And all the hurt she gave me.
But as I wrote and as I rhymed,
I got lost
In
My
Thoughts.

I am hurt and I am harmed and I am heavy from said pain.
It's been 9 years and it still hurts.

I want to forgive her for selling out my love,
I really ******* do,
But I CANT.
I CANT FORGIVE HER FOR BEING SUBHUMAN,
SELFISH,
SHALLOW.

You threw away your children,
Your family.

I just don't understand.

She taught me that I miss having a mother.
She taught me I could cry.
She taught me new ways of kissing.
She taught me who I really love.
She taught me how to sever mutilated limbs.
She taught me that everybody can be selfish.
She taught me that laughing only eases the pain for a day.
She taught me that scars never go away,
*They just get old.

Lie down your head soft angel,
Close your lightning eyes,
Rest all of your thoughts,
Ignore all of the lies,

Drift into the world of dreams,
Drift into the realm of seeing,
Tis only there I can hold you,
The only time you can feel me.

Seeing you sleeping has worth,
Like watching a kisser’s first,
Or seeing a burning star fly,
So quickly and sharply across the sky.

Love tastes like the ice on a comet.

My arms are too weak to hold up this shield,
So they can see my face.

And I look horrible.

Madness.
Belligerent.
Furious.
Enraged.
Dangerous.

I am angry.
Do not make me angry if you value our friendship.
Do not dangle the treads I cherish more deeply than your soul above a flame.
If they break, so will you. I will see to it.

Do not threaten my safety.

I've held so many women,
More than I can count.
But if I had to count.
I would say four.
And then I would say one.
My brain would say four.
My heart would say one.
I've only held one in my heart.

And she hates me.

If I see the bottom, I see the top.
I speak loudest when I'm silent.
I sleep best when I'm awake.
I'm only flying when  I'm on the ground.

I only get this way when there's a glimmer of hope.
I want a friend.

Winter is a time for love, warmth, and passion.
Spirits flourish with strength, endurance, and desire.
They dash into flurries blindly, grabbing anything that holds.
Many souls grab mimics; branches that break. Lost in the storm again.
But those who can reach further and harder, hold on forever.

I cut my hair because I was done being sad.
All that weight on my head and shoulders
All that hassle of preserving an illusion
All those memories of her.
I cut it off.

But here I am,
Sad today.

So now what do I cut.

Instead of dragging knives across my skin
expressing self hatred or anguish,
I take small breaths of cigarettes.
It's liberating.
The minutes I can choose to take from my life.

I want to die young.

Where the image of tearing my veins to shreds plays over and over.
This broken record of ****** drowning.

It’s the way the sun shines and the water falls,
It’s how the wind blows and birds chirp,
It’s the way the moon rises and sets,
It’s how you ignite my flame with your blue eyes,
It’s the way flowers bloom for you,
It’s how the world seems to lighten your step,
It’s the way air tastes sweeter when I’m with you,
It’s how the heat I feel in your presence is inside,
It’s the way I always want to say those words,
The deadly three,
To let you see,
Understand,
And take my hand.

-June 10th 2013

But none of them can be heard.

I see you.
I gasp.

Perfection comes in the form of steel blue eyes and a Mona Lisa smile.
Merely the sight of you wipes my mind.
I know your voice, inside and out.
I know your lips, your taste, your laugh, how you tilt your head.

But your heart confuses me.
Sometimes it hurts me, sometimes I hurt it.
But it gave me the most joy. More than I could imagine.
It patched and healed the holes in my chest.
Gave me a new place to rest.


I beg,
Don’t go away forever.
You are my perfection.

They call me faithless,
Little do they know how true that is.

Being without God is one thing, and I am that thing.
Being without Faith is another, I am also this.

But it seems like Faith may be with me, for I am trembling,
And no Gods ever help me.

I dreamt about you again
Your hair, your skin, your safety.

We talked and blocked it all out.
It was nice.

My Fox.

I can still recall the scent of my three loves.

Every night, sleeping is torture for my restless, substandard emotions.

I don’t want to keep living a life like this.

I can’t stand being away from you for so long.

Come to me and live with me, love me so.

I need comfort. Comfort from your soft lips and voice.

Concerts and friends and parties, none of it satisfies me.

Escape into my fantasy worlds forever with a bullet’s help.

But I couldn’t leave you behind to cry over me.

Marshall left this building months ago. Call me his corpse.

Revive me. Cry for me. Crave me. Lie for me.

He sat for eons,
God's workbench,
His tools,
Materials.
Brass and gold,
Silver, platinum,
Aluminum,
Electrum and copper,
Rubies and emeralds.

God made watches.

One fine day,
He decided
"Earth."
And grabbed up a frame,
And started filing.
And by God did he file.
The schematics.
The gears.
Must be perfect.

Five days later,
God was almost done,
Only one gear remained,
The finest of gears,
God spent more time
On this one gear
Than any other
In his watch.

This gear is you.

Sedated cave troll
Spending days at home
Snoozing and dreaming
Letting this booming city grow,
      Without his influence.

Sick of it, he wakes and stays woken,
Going to paint and write,
Party and love and dance and drive,
Goodbye sedation.

The dust of an afternoon nap crusts my eye,
It sprinkles down on my life and drags,
Slow and grudging, my legs can barely move,
To sink into coma, catatonic as a mountain,
Would be my dream come true, watching.
Waiting.


-March 27th 2013

Accept the things you cannot change,
And change the things you can.
It's nights like these I wish I could,
And I wish I could hold your hand.
You're further away than the thousand miles between us,
Something we should discuss.

You've closed your ears,
You won't see me
You won't come near,
We can't have the peace I've seen.

Something changed.
Something changed.

Accept the things you cannot change,
This is Buddha speaking.
My Lord and idle
My light of day and shine at night,
My release from dusk and fright.

Buddha speaks through me and
He SHINES through me,
Like the glow of sunlight,
Powers me, encourages me
And jostles me awake.
It takes from me pain,
Gives me strength,
Helps me wake every day.

Siddhartha.

Black shows only best on clean white like snow,
Tis why you stand out so well in the dark,
Because you are the light I used to know,
My past can be compared to a red mark,
But our future is that of a serpent,
It will weave in, it will weave out, constant,
It bites, slithers, hisses, so divergent,
But from afar it seems so triumphant,
Said plain, what our love truly is; a win,
Success over the dark, over the hate,
The overpowering of good to sin,
When I see your blue eyes, I know it’s fate,
Light shows only best on darkest nights,
On darkest nights you take away my frights.

Limericks are not my triumph,
Most of mine classify not high up,
But once in a while I get quite lucky,
And one of them isn't so fucky.
But this one will burn in fi'ya.

Then rip it the rest of the way. Cause **** that paper.

Nature learns and teaches,
But there are natural laws,
They govern all who slither,
Shamble, glide and walk.

During development,
These laws may bend, break,
May teeter and sway,
But the law is nature's make.

One will always return
To the rules we are bound,
The encompassing, unwavering,
Even the profound,
Nature without personal sin.
Nature within.

Venus, you turn me blue-
Butterfly, Neptune, lunar tunes.
Space music.
Gaia, giver of gourd and ground, fertile earth
Please ground me- I'm flying by butterflies
And birds and bees in my stomach-
Chest full of it.

Pounding
DUM DUM DUM
I lose weight and my legs give out
No nicotine high, high on you
This lilac bush- butchered for her flowers.
I'm high on nicotine tea.

Signs say,
"No Smoking,"
I laugh like it's joking
But take trespassing seriously.
I don't want a free pass to jail- my record's clean.
They're mean in jail- you're not mean,
I'd rather you be with me
We can hide from hail under trees
And look at stars- how far they are.
Making my hard heart POUND in this yard.

Green grass.
I'd let all color be gray for you if you choose,
And decorate with spray paint if that's what you say.
I'd paint the world or desaturate.
It's easy to play this game and how badly I want to play-
Pray to play.

Venus turn my Neptune from blue to gold
The goal of this game.
I'm saturated by soul.