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Jason Drury Apr 2012
On a cool damp night
the patter of the port subsided
drips of the cold rain echo

a captain ripe with whiskey
breaks the silence of the harbor
feeling his way back
to the flat on high street

navigating his feet on each stone
he muttered to himself
“left, right and then right again”

ending at a stoop
he found the *** within three
“click” the humble door opened

entering the dwelling
ready for the weeks pummel
he swung his fists at the inhabitants
especially the women, the wife

this night was routine
the smell of whiskey, puke and **** is familiar
but, tonight the mist in the air was different
his blood boiled with fermented spirits
his eyes gazed an emptiness of black

with a quick hand
reaching for a sparkle of steel
he firmed his grip and pulled from the block

it made a “ting” sound as it cut the air
meeting gently with mothers throat
with rage, his eyes stabbed with intention
holding the cold steel to freckled skin
his remarks filled her eyes with fear

and I in the corner, watching, listening, feeling and rocking
yes that was you, as a sea captain
and I was there
Jason Drury Apr 2012
the moon in glory
lights the twinkle in the snow
a fox softly steps
Jason Drury Apr 2012
the filth of the alley is kind
it is the dust of the office
that coats the brick cubicles

here stands the curved beauty
presented and elegant
as if carved to physical perfection
she sways the men who pass
hoping to tickle the primitive weakness
that steeps within

like a corporate jungle
they compete for position
to meet the daily quota

among the urchins and minions
they are the forbidden fruit
they’re bouquet fills the air
bringing suitors
who choose the exceptional

these retched sales are precise
they’re instrument is physical
product of flesh and pleasure

the red light markets this reality
teasing curious souls
into the cubicles

giving into the primitive weakness
they leave them stripped and bare
cradled by the alley
covered by the filth

the transaction filled
she stands
the curved beauty
and begins this ritual again
Jason Drury Apr 2012
she dances into black
engulfed in a wheel of hues
her limbs as if time lapsed
reveal the colorless to color
follow her, meet her steps with yours
mimic the routine based in ritual
paint each movement with small gestures
feel the momentum of each pass
let her lead through the dark and the unknown
she is but a nimble teacher
one who teaches each daunting step
that you carelessly fumble
your stride pressed in the soil, set but true
finding each print is fate
you can’t stop stepping forward
but, she will lead, on your rhythm
it is up to you which regiment, which plan
just take the first step
she will instruct and correct each fluid motion
from the beginning, middle and end
until your last performance
like many before, in pure innocents
you waltz at the edge of your stage
it will be graceful as a summer eve
ending with only in the sounds
of the night
Jason Drury Apr 2012
Dark is what he sees…
What he feels…

Dark is the sea
black

His heart is the dam
Built with decayed wood

Release the pressure
Let the cold black flow

He whispers:
“let it flow”

The only beacon
A withered light house

The glow is the path
Guiding his frail frame

Yet it fades
With every splash

He whispers:
“let it flow”

limbs kick and scream
toward the gleam

they stop
and give in

his body begins to blend with black
the cold stains his skin

the feeling flows like ink
dripping off every digit  

He whispers:
“let it flow”

his eyes wide and strange
the realization of end

gulps his last sip of air
and his body slumbers into black

the dam breaks
the black flows
Jason Drury Apr 2012
Out here it is organic
All natural, but fake

This is just a shell
5 parts this, one part you
precise, measured and able

yes that single part
potent and true
which can not be seen
but, only spoken
through honest lips

here is where you are
locked away
wrapped in chain
Behind the flesh and blood

You can feel it, can’t you?

yes this husk
is exquisite
its curves memorizing

it attracts
the buzzing flies
that fester lust

but, yet molded
by towering monopolies

injecting social narcotics
into the minds of society

No, this not...
you...

peel away the physical
fraud that is your cloak

reveal thy self
to me, to the world

lets gaze upon them

from our inner eyes
let them see the glow
and the spectrum of desire
that you only speak of
alone...

let them feel
the truth of thorns
pricking the outer shell

mutter the wants, the needs
that have yet to be poisoned
by societies posted order

let them smell blood
of the free and tangible

yes, reveal thy self
let them gaze, smell, hear and feel

you...
Jason Drury Apr 2012
Your life a painting
Each day a new stroke
Until you pass
A masterpiece
Displayed to be remembered.
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