Old Charlie was a winning

the gambling game that night.

He was in a frenzy glorious with

sheer delight.

He'd swig another jigger of his

favorite ***,

then laugh his head off, he was really

on a run.

He'd met a tiny man before this

gambling match

who promised all the gold just

for a lighted match.

Charlie lite the little man's cigar

and the little man blew

smoke on Charlie's wrinkled cards.

"Now, you accepted the deal," the

little man said.

"I'll be back to collect my investment,

you have to pay the debt."

Charlie just shook his head

and sat with his pals with flashing cards

of death.

The clock struck twelve and Charlie

had beaten all the rest.. One begged

for mercy, for his kids but Charlie

only growled. "I won the gold fair

and square, out with you to bed."

Charlie sat with all his gold and the

*** went to is head.

The door opened into Charlie's room

and entered a shadowed shape.

A voice from Hades growled with

lust and Charlie nearly fainted.

"Time to pay what I invested in thee."

the voice was hot and fierce.

Charlie's fright sent his heart

a quiver and he fell towards

the hearth.

"Get up you fool, you'll be charred later

now I want my debt, no later."

"Here's  all the gold." Charlie whimpered.

The dark One only laughed. "Ti's not the

gold we bargained for it is another matter."

In the morning the pile of gold shone

brightly on the table.

All that remained of Charlie was a

*** glass and a shadow,

They ran her ou ta town with

her ****** hanging down...

They said she'd put a spell

on the grocer's witless son.

See how stories get twisted.

The truth is much more misted.

Twas the out house that she sought;

having drunk gallons of rot gut,

and an alligator popped up to

bite her rear.

The dim wit heard her scream;

thought he was in a dream

and ran out to assist her.

Seen together in this fashion

twisted up and rather mashing

folks took the first impression

and their tongues began a wagging.

They put her on a bus all covered with dust.

The grocer's son sitting right beside her.

Nothing like a twisted tale to

put you on the road to desolation

I felt like the foolish American

My  translator book in hand

The streets are charming in Paris

A Britain I hunger for lamb

I saw a bright colored Bistro

Umbrellas over white tables

people eating and laughing

probably telling rescae French tales

i cannot speak much French

My little cheat did not come with me

She had other things to do

Like doing other professors or two

So, I sat down quietly and waited

A waiter came up to me

All I could say was, La moule en folie

He blinked and smiled and beckoned

me to follow. We went into a narrow alley

then up winding stairs. He knocked.

A woman’s husky voice said, “come in.”

She was lying on a bed fully naked

and pink as a salmon. The waiter

held out his hand. “Monsieur,la moule en folie.”

My aim is noble
and steady as a flame
Stark obessions
reveal my earthly pain,

I am beyond all reason
believe I am no saint.
Love is a complex fiction
especially when it drains.

Twilight discovers truth and clarity.
Love really takes no brains.
A **** and ****** on my block,
a hideous bombing in Irag.

My love, she grabs and screams "Obey."
I pinch and push her far away.
"Let's celebrate our mundane life,
otherwise Love, pick up that knife."

As the bruises fade I scare myself;

the abyss is close today.

Making love with you leaves me black and blue

and my mind goes blank when you stay.

Lightening strikes across the bedroom air.

A bolt strikes you in the head.

That lightening came from a pointed gun

and now you're finally dead

Only a fool plays this game of mind

In all the piles of snow outside

A single movement

The black eye of the raven

Brittle days brief and dark

Blood flows thin

Burgundy to gin

Shallow yellow light

Barely penetrates

Curtains that separate

Reality

Prisoner of this dark world

Garden of wind and death

Pine trees crusted with snow

There is misery out there

Nothing is out there

Let the raven pluck

Out your eye

Is this game almost over

The mind is never satisfied

We drown in fragrant fluids
of the flesh
A gasp...A sigh...The little death
A silent hand strokes back our breath

No longer strangers...eye to eye
Our limbs entwined
A moment longer
And then...

Days pass,
days pass----
shadows tread
the night.
Hearts break
glass shatters
from above.
Grey eyes
blink back
the years in rain.
And the world
comes xlowly
to an end.

She ****** the marrow from my bones.
Smacked her lips, she'd fed her fill from my blood.
I could only think of long winter nights
and found myself in terrible fright.

My instrument so amorous
I believed her lies.
How could I know
her beast inside?

It began with my lust for wine.
that fueled this madness; a helpless
debaucher now souless and dying.
I hear my wife and all her crying.

The ***** promised wine
then ****** my blood.
The feeling was mutual, familiar
and the dream was done.

You will die, I heard her say.
This **** I found in an alleyway.
This rotting corpse with no remorse.
All it wanted she got and more.

Does this mean I've lost my soul?
Dead drunk I'd laugh and not recall.
My mind was driven by autumn tides.
Drink and madness killed my life.

I sail the morrow on the morning tide.
In this casket I will reside.
The **** of ***** took  all my pride.
The ****** **** not at my side.

She laughed again with no shame.
This is not a sublime disgrace.
My wife, dear wife won't touch this box.
She must go and get a lock.

Bones chained in this prison dark.
Eternity has no end...no start.
My blood flowed in her throat like a sobbing flood.
I sought oblivian in a vile ****.

My blood drunk by the Devil's  *****.
Sorry dearie, there is no more.
My dearest wife absolved my drink.
This foulest  of deeds beyond her brink.

I am a ****** soul with unbending regret.
None of it matters for I am dead.
Forgive me wife, your love was a flame.
My hideous lust your only shame.

I am  a tormented cry that no one hears.
Good-bye...

Fires burn in the hills around the city.

Smoke curls down like a deadly snake to choke

and take....

I watch and know the knowing....

Our yearly ritual fire and then

a strange voice whispers an invocation,

commonplace yet unknown to most,

this grace...

There is a pathway of unheard fractured voices

that yearn and cry out their poetry...

Catch their words...quickly now!

Words fade as fast as fireflies in a fire.

My ears stretch to their insistence,,,the

poet's pain of knowing.

Their insistence, we are not alone

i waited for the sun

only grey shadow played

across the lawn and stray dog toy

i waited to see your shadow

shade me from a sun

hidden behind a black cloud

the dog is dead

the dog toy should be thrown

away and i

should leave this place

of memory and you

summer picnics dog barking

sun beating on pale skin

you weaving your hands

on my back with lotion

and the kiss swift and taunting

the laughter running

to the bright white sand

blinding and ocean blue

as blueberries

i should leave as i feel rain

coming coming to this place

where the sun

has forgotten to shine

i should take the dog toy

to spare it from the

rain

i should leave

i should leave now

Rain...all it does is rain
The sky is sad...sadder than you know

Rain,,,rain beats down my window pane
I sit and cry with the rain

Rain makes me sad and refreshes my soul
Sadness is not the worst of all things

Sadness can make you feel and think
Rain can do the same

The elephants hide under banana trees
Elephants blink long lashes into the rain

There is a raindrop on your nose
I kiss it away and you laugh

Let's play in the rain
Let's be children again

The battle field was smothered with blood.

My friend had lost his head.

I got up and walked between the bodies.

My sobs were dearly meant.

The artillery smoke hung like a haze;

how many men would go to graves?

I was lucky, I was still alive.

No more battle for me to ride.

I saw her then from in the smoke.

Lovely, she took my hand but never spoke.

She led me past a field away;

full of flowers and birds this day.

I leaned back in the tall sweet grass.

She stroked my head like no other lass.

Her beauty went beyond any words.

Her body like a goddess , she broke my fears.

Something so lovely to come out of death.

Her lips like wine, sweet was her breath.

She pulled me up and nodded away;

a place to go where we might stay.

She lead me past the battle field;

down a hill and into wall of hay,

beyond was a graveyard and an open grave.

She kissed me sadly, tears in her eyes.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci had let me die.



Read more: http://authspot.com/poetry/lady-of-death/#ixzz0tUzsE8rK

A crown of daisies on the dresser

Reflection of our joyous past

Bewilderment in your dear blue eyes

now blurred by pain...

I caress your feverish brow and smile

as I always have...

Let go...let the silent sleep still your pain

Memory keeps you close to me

Your laughter like bells rings in my ears

Your special glow still lingers

Sleep now my friend...

Embrace the great love in eternal grace

Out of the dream I hear it

the distant thunder.

I hear the cry of children;

love will hold back darkness,

love will hold back death.

The sky is violet, red

clouds have bled this day;

smoke rises from the ashes,

guns are put away.

In the distant thunder

I hear an infant cry;

love holds it safe at harbor,

love rocks it in the sway.

The dreamer goes on dreaming;

waiting for the new world

where madness done and hate...

Now, the sky is golden,

something new appears above.

The thunder rolls asunder

no one wanders to the grave.

Forever dreaming until the Lathe

says, Go! Accept the truth that

nothing endures, nothing is precise

one with rock and still alive...

dreamers we now know the world

is paradox and fate...

Your coin colored eyes

were a disguise

Shiny bright and almost new

My eyes would turn away

from you

The glare of surf and sand

waves of rising fog

Created a mirage as

you blinded me

and took my hand

You lead me down the

lonely beach

To a place where no one

speaks

I looked into your eyes

at last

And found my sight

my voice

my dance

Ravens circle in the sky above

Dark images cast upon the snow

I sit on a cold bench in the garden

Waiting

Snow falls like white dust

He said he would be here

In this garden of thorns and rose hips

This garden of skeleton sticks

And blood red berries

Tassels on my wool cap from Finland

Sway in the icy wind

A grey heavy sky above

Ravens dive towards the sea

Ominous signs

Waiting in this decaying garden

A very old man sits next to me

His white beard covered with snow

He isn't coming, the old man says

My body dead to words

Don't you know? the old one whispers

Don't you know?

Terrible truths have been gagged by rags

in the mouth of man.

He cannot speak in this cellar of souls for

things of ourselves  are hidden

in dark places.

A dark, where silent  lies are told.

Man did gag his truthful voice because

of no understanding.

The way of the beast in the field is man's way.

But, he refuses redeeming his due.

So, man stays dead in soul

with no words to save him.

So, frightened of those terrible truths

forever mute and raving.

Many years ago

when the bloom was on my rose

I found God in the desert

innocently, I was alone

I heard a sound not

made by man

and felt the jolt of life

beneath the heat

a throbbing, pulsating stillness

beneath my feet

In wonder, I stopped...

a cactus flower

pink with ****** rupture

opened up her face

My heart was filled with love

I felt the flush, the rush of life'in this place

I've wandered far all alone

just to find my way

back home.

Twenty-five years in a cell

of my own

is too long a time for

anyone to atone.

I grieve over the life that

passed me by...

It hurts like hell;

a sty in the eye.

I hunger after rainbows

on dingy walls

then pick up my pack

to go no where at all.

My eyes are tired

from lack of sleep;

no gentle hand to

comfort me.

Where can I go if

not back home?

The jokes on me

where ere I go

I'll be alone...

In the corners where I do not go

lies a heap of dust ***** green with mold.

Mother told me to sweep them out.

She doesn't know what they're about?

I poked then once

they snapped my stick,  teeth marks

not a little *****.

Someone has to know the truth;

not as long as Mother is under foot.

Mother calls me evil names;

she has her way to cause great shame.

She says I'm a **** for not getting the broom

after all this is her room.

I told her the ***** had very sharp teeth.

She says I am a liar and must be beat.

So, Mother just to show me grabbed them

with her hand;

lost all her fingers and couldn't stand.

They began to devour her legs, she screamed

and called me a devil's knave.

Now, Mother is gone all is well.

Me and the dust ***** get along just swell.

A dying heavenly light

signals home

as I lay dying

all alone.

The buckboard

bucks and rattles down

the blazing dust

of country road;

toward the gentle

green of tree

high on the hill

a plot for me.

I rave against the burn,

the sting of death;

no more to yearn.

I rage against the diggers *****.

Peace at rest where i am laid.

Free from this final walk on fire.

I've climbed to a celestial shire.

Oh! restless soul you sail on salty breezes

rest on rocky shores

Speak to me?

Let me know you hear my voice



A waft of licorice stirs my memory

Childhood stands tall

like a tin soldier

Is that where you are?



In the incestuous wasteland

of a child's bedroom

I lost you

Lost you to shame



I search diligently for you

as you float

among gravestones

and dance with the ghosts



I seek you in the dark

in the light

in the church and the street

I cry out for you



Sadly, like a child

with the dim recall of a

lost ice cream cone

melting in the gutter...

The wind whispers softly

leaving shadows in my mind

Once in desperate fury she left

boundless debris behind

The withered holly berries like

an old man's weathered face

While the milk has spoiled

unfit for pudding cake

Winter roses from the garden

fall limp

a tarnished gold

The wastebasket full of things

I  never should have sold

I mean to leave this place

Put it far out of my mind

Yet, those shadows cling

to inner places wasting

all my time

I crush the roses flat

one by bleeding one



You never planned on coming back

to make this place our fun



The wind she's in a fury

pulling branches from the trees

This seems to be what's missing

And what those shadows need

I glance outside at winter

Sadness pulls the shadows back

It lets me hold last moments

To see what's left behind

No love, no cheer, no pudding cake

I must have lost my mind

I grab my coat and cap

And grind  holly into chime

I open the door to face the storm

Feeling strangely out of time

There you stand

staring straight at me

With shadows in your eyes

I am with the crazy ladies

who sit giggling in the loony bin.

We pick at our skin, our clothes;

we wiggle and yawn.

Heads wobble, jaws drop

tongues dart in and out

green canvas slippers cover

our toes.

Know this! I don't belong here.

Waiting for the pill cart

after eating prunes.

We shuffle back to our sterile

blue rooms.

I crawl on the floor.

My tiny ******* are sore.

I think a lot about death.

Someone shouts, "Get up, you're a mess."

I am the duchess of death.

They should beware.

I was a sleep-monger once.

Queen of a pill condition;

planting bombs in my brain.

They will transform me here.

Not before I get to the ****** Islands.

Where I will take off all my clothes

and paste prunes on my *******.

What news do you have about

the last twelve weeks?

Hurry up! I'll be leaving soon.

This tiny room is dark hell.

Ashtrays hold hills of butts.

I feel the smell of smoke.

And smell the flow of motion;

long sounds of cars outside

make brown shadows

move across the dingy walls.

I am staring at loves face.

I am as real as you.

I look over the bump on your nose.

Nothing has changed.

No match flame in my eyes.

Vita Nu Ova! No! No!

A dead world inside and out.

And this agony of mortal pain

with no release too much to bare.

When love is only a word…



Read more: http://authspot.com/poetry/a-room-in-hell/#ixzz0vqkkTaoZ

There is a story

going around,

Jack the Tripper

is back in town!

Twenty girls

dead on their head,

beaten to death

with a piece of lead.

He trips then hits,

and bites his lips.

This ghastly tale

is is happening again.

You just don't know

who is your friend!

Girls, murdered and *****

then left to rot...

Jack you're a ripper

with a very poor plot.

You swallowed everything rotten when you

swallowed me.

All the indigestion, disgust and anguished reverie.

I keep it tightly locked within...you dared the worst.

You swallowed time and tears and added years;

sorry for what you've done?

You assaulted my infinite oblivion....

my darling solitude and sick...

and yet you thought you'd won.

You lost, my dear, more than you can know.

You can't contain the old re-runs.

So, spit me out into the sea,

a better person you will be.

Let me dwell in my hollow hell with

my demons under lock and key.



Some things should be left alone forever.

Cherry blossoms
Infatuation is fleeting
Blossoms fly with the wind


Barren budding trees
The funeral is over
Snow is melting

The falling leaves drift by my window.
The autumn leaves of red and gold.
Since you went away the days grow long.
Soon, I'll hear them sing old winter's song.
But, I miss you most of all, my darling;
When autumn leaves begin to fall...

A harpie you may
have been...
Yet, delicate as lace
your fingers spin around
the spinning wheel.

To sit and watch you weave
is life's delight.
This keeps you near and in my sight
when eyes grow dim.

You weave a tapestry of our
love filled past.
Your wifely smiles are
just for him.

I feast my eyes
upon  you in delight.
You may be his
but not this night...

Our love is such
refined.
The fates we tempt
yet, endure sublime.

Our souls as one
till dust in time...
I can wait and watch
till he is done.

It is the days
we do not spek of
that turn our lives.

It is the cold
which makes us yearn
for houses made of woolen.

We are caught...
In the endless Bric-a-Brac.
The absurdity of it all.

We are the children

of men in winter,
mad sailors,
and silent snow.

Darkness falls like

a drop cloth

Colors are gone

hidden

In the corner

sits a cat

It is purring

The cat likes darkness

A broom is lifted

by a silent hand

The colors come

bursting red, orange, hell

The cat snarls

disturbed

mean

A shaft of light strikes the

floor

All goes up in flames

I lost my head at gound zero.

I am near “the Pile.” Too near…

Planes gone astray. This was not meant to be or was it?

Water is close, I smell it. My keen sense of wonder and longing.

I wish I was a carrot but nature determined my fate.

A man looked down at me and said I was ugly.

He pulled but I resisted.

My sister has half her head. She wears it proudly.

People will notice her for sure. She might get water.

Someone just might step on her.

I am rotting and rancid. I may beyond hope.

I need water. To be a wetted nymph.

**** you, keep those trucks away.

A flat stump has little chance to survive.

Another man hunched over me and vomited.

That was not nourishment. Why are drunks here at “the Pile?’

Just pieces of flesh and slashes of clothing and twisted metal.

Nobody wants to feed me. Water!

God can see everything. Happiness!

A good New York rain!

The Wizard knocks upon my door.

The hour is late

stale breath I adore.

I let him in with his bottle of gin.

He grins at me toothless then

grabs the tin...

a cup I save just for him.

What loquacious tale he may tell

doesn't sit with my mutton and his smell.

He is pretty drunk and so am I.

Can't seem to open my sightless eye...

Why I invite him in each night?

Is the reason mother sits dead in fright.

She stares at us from across the room.

I only hit her once with the broom.

The Wizard promised she'd soon be gone.

You know Wizards, they're full of moon.

So, I let him in when it gets dark.

We plan each night another brain ****.

Mother just won't go away. She's bloated

and smells as  the ugliest  ****. But, soon

we will figure something out when the gin

runs low and our lights go out.

We wait for the rain to flatten loves blossoms.

The frail liquid that runs down our cheeks.

The ravens oily feathers slick with rain.

The sheets on the line sagging downward.

We turn our faces upwards and open our lips.

Rain tastes of love now and over...

Holding each other as if the world is ending.

Because we know in our tangled dreams

And nightmares it really is...

Will the rain stop beating down as our hearts?

Will the birds lie unburied?

We  kiss in desperation and frustration.

Shivering in the mist that rises and the vines

that coil around our bodies.

A sparrow flies out of your mouth.

The vines grow tighter.

The rain has stopped and all that's left

is a dreadful silence.

Our world has ended.

Birds were the last surviving dinosaurs.

I came here to die

or write the truth

They left me behind

the car with no roof

I have little water

my throat so dry

Pen and pencil

can't sketch this sky

There is no sky here

only a white sheet

I smell summer linen

a snake at my feet

It's all curled up and

looking dead

All but its poisonous

little head

Red tongue flicks out

i feel the sting

Finally able to sit

and write this thing

Waves of heat rise

before my eyes

I'm going blind

before i die

Now this thing will

not get written

The desert got me

and i am smitten

Conspiracy is just a word…

senseless death of innocents

is all too real.

Pray for those unknown heroes

who rode a plane through Hell;

who died not really knowing

and will never be able to tell.

In the quiet rain of this September,

amidst the ashes and the pain;

try to remember with prayer:

each and every name.

He took her child...

Where would the child be?

Spirits of the island wept for thee.

This is no mortal business, I declare.

The child is lost, stolen by human care;

the devil’s lot.

Mourn not!

The child still sings out, Mother find me!

Shake off thy slumber and beware…

lest you miss the spirits who will take you there.

Perhaps, a cavern beneath the sea…

your child will wait for thee…

So, free the spell that hangs like doom

upon the island lost to you…

an open conspiracy took your life’s breath away.

Let open sails take you where you’ll find yourself

and child too.

Mercy may have faults but nature is often kind;

your suffering will end in time.

I sank my soul in the salt of sea.
The sea spit it back to me.
The wind would not take it, the air let it be.
Then I saw it ...the live thing  at the edge of the sea.
The sea licked it clean till it could stare at me.
The soul looked up from the slime  to be free.
We pour out our sweat and our seed.
In time lie down and  finally just be.
Nothing has changed not you or me.
The dead old world is full of decay.
The telephone rings and rings away.
Dark hell is the number written on the wall.
I wrote it there when I was small.
My savage heart cries out to what?
All is gone and turned to dust.
I saw the corpse when they took it away.
Now, my soul has no where to stay.

It is the things we don't speak about
the lies we hide in silence
Petrified trees of ice like our
frozen souls
Truth comes bursting
with an orange glory
The veil of discontent
revealed in the sun

I am standing here myself by the kitchen table,

the facet drips in the sink...drip, drip, drip,

a familiar repellent sound.

I raise my head upwards with the final beauty

of the done deed...

here in this shabby hotel in the darkest of places

in the city, where the winos roam and  beggars die.

I walk to the room with the white shadow on a blood

splattered wall, a red hand print on the door.

i lift the hank of sticky hair from a worn chair and smell

the clotted blood.

I am filled with weariness; one man's answer to the belly pain.

My eye is a match-flame, the pain a solid lump.

Who will clean up this mess? Who?

I close my eyes in divinity and pain. No redemption...

The neighbors did not hear, they never do not with the radio

blasting out the rock and roll of a seventies tune...

Now there is no noise but a lack of sound.

i have gone deaf from the scream but the scream

was hours or days ago and the radio is unplugged and i stand in

black blood, it covers me and the bathroom is filthy and I

want to leave but stay and try to light a cigarette with shaking

hands. The room is empty except for material things...

strange to feel this cold...her gift of love too clumsy, too worn

not enough to hold me stable not in this dark place.

Why in this space of cockroaches, and stale muscatel?

The room does not answer only its broken ugliness hisses,

and where is the body, curled like a beaten infant in the corner?

Will rats devour her? There is a male insistency on meaning.

i can find no meaning in this stagnant air.

She laughed at me and my hands became weapons.

What was I doing in this shadow-land of the city?

Following what? Death! My death...

Now, i hear again the water dripping, it rips my nerves.

I am strung to a fine pitch...to know, to know not be erased

like so much dirt...dirt is here. i do not live here. Can I burn the

body in the bathtub and run the brown rust water and it will

go away? How many people on this planet starve to death

every second? What time is it? She stole my watch, the *****.

I give it all back. I give her retched life back. I am covered with

her blood and I long to be clean. Long to be rid of her rotting

stench. Who will call the police? I will. i know that as I know the

corpse because I must have wanted this. i have no understanding.

It was a surge of life i sought and only found death. My death,

her death and the world's death. Our planet will die ,just this way

with a dripping facet and a ****** shadow...

The world will die with me.