Lee - Hello Poetry

Lee Feb 2013

I remember you so well.
The way I felt that,
I alone owned
and knew you.
Your pale fragile body
wrapped over and over in my memories and emotions.
I remember the way I could find arches and curves
when my eyes went fuzzy and my fingers traced your bodies.
There are so many of you.
I want to set you all free
filled with my denied expectations
and foolishness.
My highest aspirations
and deepest regrets.
I'll bury you deep in some hole,
cold and crumpling
as I pile the dirt on your stained body
or watch you writhe and float about in some steel barrel
as I cascade down lighter fluid
and say my final goodbyes
to your gathering ashes.
I'll be rid of you
I don't want you to commemorate my mistakes anymore.
I'll burn you alive
my memories turning to ash on your frail and blistering body.
You will be gone forever;
you ****** notebooks of high school poetry.

Lee Feb 2013

Skyline Under the Influence

Its very rarely I get to see nights like this.
Eyes clouded with skyline.
white,
cream,
white,
burnt,
white,
cream
the lights in the distance go.
Some speck of green hides in their pattern.
It's not its fault.
Just like it isn't the stars fault they've died.
I can only see there souls from here,
or now,
as it may be.
The branches reach up to cloud its blackened border.
Brittle vines reaching finger like,
grasping at the hovering skyline.
I forgive you.
Forgive existence;
but who am I.
A drunken juggler on the brink of the cities concrete shore;
contemplating the soaring skyline sparkling in the distance.

Lee Feb 2013

Drunken Darkness or Interest

Oh the dark.
Oh the presence of others,
knowing neither of us is
looking
or judging.
Oh sweet nights wrapped in the
foggy,
bewildered,
utterly abandoned,
sheet of drunkenness.
I long for you.
You being an abstract thing.
Unable to find you.
Even when you exist
souly in my imagination.
You are comfort
in the dark.
You are purity
embodied
and abandoned.
I reach
but my mind races away
wrapped around the flickering light of the T.V..
I'll find you,
the hopeless romantic in me cries out
I'll find you.
Even if I don't know who
or why
you are.

Lee Feb 2013

Those Looks

I want you
and you turn away
like the earth itself rotating
to get itself away from the sun.
I know I'm not the source of life on your planet
but
I need you
and you scoff and chuckle.
That scoff, a body flying off a motorcycle
the sound of skin being ripped away
by the hard embrace of the concrete.
I hear it slide to a stop against the telephone pole.
that ******* chuckle,
the sound of all the ribs breaking and stabbing into the heart
but
I know you.
This sick ******* game you play.
Egging me to react
a horse under the whip.
Come on,
buck up,
kick, bite,
raise high your front quarters and strike me down.
I'll only brand you again with shame and horror.
I can see that look on your face
you are guiltless
and amused.
But
I can't now,
I can't repeat this pattern.
You want me to lung at you in rage and lust.
Not this time.
Not hunched over the counter
Not knowing it'll repeat itself in a week.
Hearing my name and obscenities
with that ***** smile on your face.
Not this time.
You only love the worst in me.
You love it when I draw blood,
and break memories,
and scream,
and shatter all the dishes,
that you begged me to keep safe just hours ago.
You get that look
that look cats get beating mice to death.
Amusement.
You get that look
that happy look dogs get when they bring home a dead pigeon for us to eat.
Misunderstanding.
You get that look
that look the devil gets when he hears an infant crying out helpless in sheer terror.
*Satisfaction.

Lee Feb 2013

Classroom at High Noon.

The essential creature comforts
must be abstained from
in this bland
bleak
ball point tapping
room.
Only for long enough
to listen
and leave.
Granted regularly
some brief reprieve.
Fulfilling deadly habits
the streets filled
curbs run rampant
with wickeder habits
than mine.
To solitude
I'll resign.
What words
describe my presence
an inability to
define.

Lee Feb 2013

Hygiene

I think of you
the same way
modern society thinks of hygiene.
You are severely undervalued by most
and eternally needed.

Lee Feb 2013

What do I do

What do i do,
late at night
when I think of us together.

Your cascades of curls
falling soft and flowing against my face
like a motionless golden waterfall
making silent splashes against the white of the bed
enveloping me in comfort and sleep.

Your ocean blue eye's
closed tight behind peach lids
the icy water I swam in
that never told a lie
when i looked for them
in the silence of moments.

The rosy complexion of hidden hips
under shredded sheets
in the dark of the night
when I reached for something solid and soft
to bring close
and let me know i wasn't alone
in the abyss of the room
spinning slow and constant
around my foggy head.

The steady rising and falling
of the peaks and valley
of your supple chest
that let me know for sure
that motion was ok for my own lungs to commit
saving themselves
from the suffocation I wanted.

Breathing in the room where I knew
we would be together
and loving
and living.

What do i do,
late at night.
When I find myself alone;
and shivering in the cold;
and thinking of the things I've lost,
and loved.

I weep,
weep like an infant would
surrounded by any similar darkness
away from the one thing it loved.