In that place, where swift the sky blackens,
storms steal all the silken, shiny petals,
fading into pale yellow.
Words reign cold as winter rivers,
running dark from the shadows.
Strange roads, desert bones
leave you deathly hollow, searching
for the marrow.

I saw
Finding Nemo
which is
a Walt Disney movie
awhile back,
and I remembered it
tonight
and the story
that it told,
so the story
is about
being home,
leaving home,
and coming back home,
so I realized
that is
a great story,
so here goes -
"I am sitting in this chair,
thinking,
I'm getting bored of it,
so what's there to do?
I know,
I'll go write a poem,
and I leave
the chair,
and go write a poem,
and then come back
to the chair
and think"
so that's the story
and I hope
you liked it.

On this night,
my heart forgot to stop loving you.

With star dusted verse and milky way melody,
I sang to you a jasmine scented lullaby.
Through crescent waves of moonbeam,
I breathed my lavender love into your dream.

In the morning when you wake, will you feel me there,
as sunlight, streaming through your sleep damp hair?


Mine is the heart that forgot to stop loving you.
Yours, the heart that could not remember to begin.

new is now old,
my fingers are cold and shaking yet I still grasp at what once was.
it's hard to remember you.
fog-headed, I'll close my eyes to try to see
a piece of the past with clarity
like when your heart would beat for me.

like silence, only the sound of our lips
and the backs of my eyelids painting works of art.
like when your breath would whisper my name
and fill the room with ecstasy.

now only one appendage is flooded for me,
and I only feel you angrily
penetrating with resentment
and a fantasy I can not conceive.

but one day we had love, made love; and this is one memory
that above all else I'll choose to carry
in the hopes that it will re-emerge from the hole that it's been ****** into.
though I'm black and blue,
I won't give up on you
but good lord, I feel like I'm dying...

Plastic,
plastic covers my natural voice.

I am neoprene, with gasoline undertones.
So peel the layers, find my truth.

You never were one to find
beauty in modern art,

Acrylic man.