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LDuler Jun 2013
There to language and I are leave they out can no a don't
of do diseases beautiful speak

Their focus
dragging is crueler corpse

Pulling love their write
than off for reluctant this the clear each shadows
into poem
which ones crinkling other
is school is we cellophane not and both self-inflict shiny sweet out
Frail a
but silver and bodies eulogy
and I foil
with childish
it's running an still nimble a on obituary

find fingers collision caffeine ­ myself
thirsting and
sliding of and I for a souls nicotine
pain love the single
a boredom them bottle
and cigarette
out necessary indifference
you of train and ­ still the wreck
a panic

You I find pack
and desperate can love the slipping tempest
to tell them beast it survive they because in into the long
I your their deadly for know heart
begging lips
It drone solace
in each to fits of the of be so school
it way them smothered effortlessly can't they is in so be hold a smoke

They easy
they've done their work sneak been alone
regroup coffee
tenderly in out repeating collect fingers progress to the stick wrapped
smoke same together round
the ­ their motion

Their comforting because cigs
between for arguments shape I classes
just years and and know another now
sparking apologies
have smell
and each insolence the kissing is another lighter tragic
their shattered act
The tone cancer in of small of sticks
with a audacity
another flame ancient faint sense
fleck erupts
promising rome
empires hopes ­ of relief rising of because rebellion
The and necromancy
and they're way sweet falling

I rebirth just to taste hear with souls express of them every
searching their nicotine bicker
and puff
they for contempt
a trickling argue take a way
down and turns voice to into talk
with objectifying
say the echoes each ­ **** back of other I you
to of prayers
feigning love the their in tenderness them
government throats their when because and
They voices
please really
they I'm the smile see are starting educational

Behind me just to system
and stone please new see
to gargoyle hear bodies
interlaced ­ the smiles
thunder me
please for beyond clockwork eyes validate
an the holding and my hour archetype-- them rock existence

American or a back
from fists
they Spirit two
There true a hide Malboro is
expansiveness death their Camel
the no
they heavy intricacies emotion ­ secretly hearts
with of here
they're long shrouds the just I for
Because of taste
they kids love i smoke
like taught who've them think
small-featured themselves always because at bride to loved the least faces
behind love

To playing smell a heavy me
the of few veils
Holding every ***** cigarette of their joke Doctor smoke
them precious sounds game

use ­ know
that gaspers
between like their reminds it’s 2 a name me still fingers hymn
every as of a
elegantly nervous a afternoons suicide the pair cautionary
tale in
even way of and
they're France if they hands
the the
it’s saw
james brittle kids
our ­ in bond after-math
of parents sitting slow and broken warned on motion
And models promises
chaotic us the every in thoughts about curb cigarette
is glossy tumbling

I of a magazines like know my calming do
dust they've dying coffin it
There in given grandfather's nail
I on ­ are children know perfection
so and too here they they watching young

just are want the drink the different
but to passer-by or lost they be stroll purchase
their and are some through
ambrosia the human kind ­ and lonely and of the tabacco
the young
and dazzling pavements treasures
Yes ones perhaps cataclysm

I they who they bright love are wear are flaming them young such like disaster because minors
but solid me
Maybe a everyone they’re masks
They’re they lovely needs already all too
have wreck
they a afraid looking fears
maybe offer place of for they me
and growing some too a they too form awaken drag
but know old of in all that to redemption the I

Their die
but dead can parties young
soon they'll of think
is are they'll settle night
sweating that an get for and rebellion
emergency withered attention
Faith confused

I isn’t exit

They're and on can a a wrinkling
and the see language
I lighthouse they other them know for won't hand now how the be
is drifting to lost
able a in speak
LDuler Jun 2013
After the screams
I was coming undone,
splitting at the seams.
I hauled all my watercolors
out of my brother's office.
I took the paintbrushes
and palettes of a thousand hues
lodged between his camo army vest
and his heavy shoes
and I sprawled out in the
spinach-green living room.
I painted
willow trees and silhouettes
and viridian snakes spilling from ***** lips.

At 2am I got up
headed to the deck
and watched the stars
Because sometimes I forget.
I let my nights
be slaughtered by sobs.

These nights, this view
It’s mine, you can’t have it.
Everyone needs a place
and this is mine,
this tiny nirvana,
2 o'clock constellations
in the dark purple bruise of night
are my home.

A pool of watercolors,
magenta, cyan, indigo, emerald and cerulean,
swells in my chest,
in the empty space between my lungs.
A drowning, a baptism.

Everywhere, in everything,
your unblinking ghost.
It refuses to dissolve.
LDuler Jun 2013
I'm filled with aches and cavities,
concave heart
hollow lips.
I can't be your salvation
You can't be my elixir.
There is no cure to be found.
We're too young to save each other,
weak hands
intertwined like
predicaments of bittersweet,
frail blue eyes
like cities of crystal
staring quietly, relentlessly.

This is a *******
emotional scavenger
with no way out,
and we both know
this thing will never
have a chance
to stand on it's own
t                              f
w                           ­ e
o                             e
Disce aut disced

Return of the summer boys.
LDuler Jun 2013
Love love love
The riddle of the Sphinx
Love poems,
eternal hieroglyphs
and lovers,
desperate archeologists
attempting to decipher
the ruins.

Dead languages
that haven't been spoken
for thousands of years,
the naive attempt to
resuscitate an extinct civilization,
sit pretty on the tongue
because things are sweeter
when they’re lost.
Sola est paradisi paradisum perdidit.
LDuler Jun 2013
a ***** game
of russian roulette.
Amy Winehouse said love is a losing game.
LDuler Jun 2013
People over romanticize things like
Sylvia Plath's
suicide in the oven
or stars
or love.
Stars are just big
flaming messes
that burn and care
for nothing else.
and so is love.
LDuler Jun 2013
Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss
her beautiful and let her
nestle in your arms

Bring your bristly mouth
to ours, and give us the stars
we've been waiting for.

Sing. Take the guitar
and strum the strings but careful;
we might fall in love.

You deserve credit
for your courage and backbone.
Boy, you are so strong

You don't always have
to be tough, and hold it in,
be the strong silent type

It's okay. Let go.
Yes, being a man is hard
but you can let go.

Boy, please know your virtue.
You bring food to our famine.
The hunger, the thirst.

Who wouldn't want you?
Whose wicked appetite
couldn't you answer?

If you're wondering,
well, boy, the answer is yes.
She still loves you.

There were signs, signals
but you just couldn't read them.
She still loves you.

Why must you always
complicate love? Just take it.
Just take it and smile.

Boy, are you aware
of how destructive you are?
We could die for you.

Should we blame her?
Blame Aphrodite for this,
this pain and longing?

Boy, you're beautiful.
Limbs and muscle and talent;
we will never understand.

You are not flesh, blood.
You are made of energy,
and you can bring light.

You can give so much.
A feeling, a beginning,
a home, an escape.

You give nirvana,
with a love so tremulous
and complicated.

Boy, you're everything.
The might-have-beens, the maybes,
and the what-could-bes.

You are our focus,
our soothing sense of being,
simple, instinctual.

Boy, you are so much.
Millions of poems have been
written just for you.

We want to know you
collect little pieces of you
and memorize you.
Haikus are hard!
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