February a baleful month
dabbed with deep darkness,
the calendar's mortuary
nature's own Gulag.
Its window opens upon
possible impossibilities
none of which yield joy.
Crows plummet murderously
from the heavens
vainly trying to flee
into spring but merely splat.
Roads are crushed
beneath a carpet of ****.
Frosted blimps soar naked.
Boots refuse to stay tied.
Your parent's nightmares
freeze your sweaty sleep.
Snow falls like dead swans.
Eclairs crystallize into
lumps too solid to enjoy.
A month of undeserved
solitary confinement
that trembles the soul.
A deep achromatic terror
keening coldness
in a huge white wail
penetrating the ears
until march stops
the madness and hope
blossoms as crocuses,
apricity achieved,
small phosphorescent
dots of desire.

  ~mce

The days run away
like frightened children.
Brevity is the soul of life.
Each sunrise becomes a miracle.
The only true sadness
is to age without a song.
This can go either way.
Some mornings the black dog licks;
but on others, you still feel
the kiss of fire upon your lips.

  ~mce

Nobody,
just a
shadow of
a somebody.
And lacking a heart,
only the memories
of the somebody remain.
Residing in neither the light
nor the darkness, only in nothing.
A shell of the somebody’s final stand.

A shooting star shot me
with a 50. caliber of beauty
while I was standing guard
in the middle of my duty.

There I stood in silence
in the middle of the night.
Reminded of your smile
that is brighter than light.

Dreaming of those eyes
that illuminates my heart
and banish the gloom
that once tore me apart.

And as the shining sun rose
blooming beautifully slowly.
I thanked you once again
For not keeping me lonely.

What of love
She said you were the pulse of life
From woman to wife
Breathe beneath her skin
You’re just a shot of adrenalin

What of love
Open a vein and bleed the lie
She’s the addict you supply
Lips that drip sap and acid
And you’re death in a pretty package

What of love
Hypodermic words slurred
On a Sunday afternoon blurred
Stop her staccato heart
Drop death in her chest she’s torn apart

What of love
Arrest the damnable dreaming
Chains in the shape of a ring she’s screaming
Saffron dress and daisy chains
She won’t wear it again

What of love
Petty promises her overdose
On the floor of your hotel room comatose
Consolation prize forever after unhappily
No antidote to set her free

What of love
Little girls like lambs to slaughter
Lies make slaves of daughters
Chase the hollow sound of wedding bells
Fed fairy tales In prison cells  
Tl Boehm
04/27/2013

Always do one more push-up,
always go one more round.
Never give up.
Don't let this world get you down.

Always do one more crunch,
always go one more mile.
Never give up.
Don't ever lose your smile.