Your face is the sun
and mine the moon.
the twinkle in my eye,
just a reflection of you.

Can't hold back
your smile induces mine,
like a yawner and yawnee,
both victims intertwine.

Almost not fair,
like loving in a prison,
but I'm used to it now,
prison of a pretty person.

I couldn't bear be set free
the love is still mutal right?
but a fools been made of me
lonely freedom tonight.

Jumped from a plane,
napped on a train,
sort of in pain,
hope there's some gain.

Motorcycle jumped,
feeling quite pumped,
that stump I bumped,
ascertain, minor sprain.

Drunk in Deutschland,
sang with an old man,
couldn't pay, so i ran,
my fortitude I feign.

Back in America,
so much to tell ya
but can't stay too long.
Complacency. My bane.

A steady stream bellowing out my nose
i wanted to play today sniveling staring at my toes
why now must i feel so, voice hoarse cannot go
cannot speak, cannot sleep, even force of will fails me.
Stuck in bed enjoing a *** head eating at my brain
as zombiesaurus might know, i too am going insane,
crumbly delight, a ******* helps fight with crunchy grain
ahd and aaaaand now i, sqhinting, can barely see.
Even so i roll with it, my thoughts and me, we are
desperation to derision, derivition a bit far
the demons within trying to be free i sternly bar
God help me, i'd feel good though if freely they'd be.
Coughing hurts again, feels i'll never win, never win i say
but through the delerium, i cut through a foggy bay
whats this i see, mom with soup, i might survive i may
warm feelings abound, a smile in my face, not the worst day.

I miss the scraggles of irrigated brain matter
the kind that used to spray out of my mind.
I miss the corregated gore that would line up
like so many words on an ephemeral canvas.
Alas, I am no more.

I am Jack's clenched sphincter. The ******* of the world not knowing where the **** has come but continues to spew.
The love in japan with the fake cats and painted eyes will not save me nor will the things enjoyed in the wee hours of the morning. Hope for something better and go to sleep. Want for something more and turn on the television.
How I long to be an alien, wrapped up in my own things that make sense to me, the foreshadowment of this is quite appealing. When I think of my heroes, not the people that I am obligated to love, but the people who stir emotion deep and unseen, I cry inside.
I feel it in the spongy yellow marrow of my heart bones that support me. They are not there. I was never there. Laughing face of old drunken bewilderment of the entirety of humanity. Why why why why ha ha ha ha aaaand aand the utterment of unmade caracatures in such drunken old men.
Old men and snotty lads have more in common with eachother than any close knit family. Krusty, cantankerous, and spry, they laugh at each other. One feeling and the other knowing or one pretending and the other wandering.
What would my heroes think if they knew I was sober. What would they say? Certainly nothing that wouldn't make me angry or turn away. You cannot be constructive by being constructive, only in doing and in the act of doing will you beat away their snide remarks.
Live alone with others. Smile on the inside more than outside. Don't use the word ferclempt unless you don't really even mean it anyway. Own a cat.

Feeling real bored
nothing to do
ask you what's up
nothing, and you?

Well, I may hit up a cafe
I've heard its quite nice
they serve the best kava
and tasty drinks on ice

Most excellent I guess
but of what place do you speak
why Bula of course
I'll prob. stay, perhaps all week

So if you find yourself awry
and that there could be more to ya
just come down and party Fiji style
BULA BULA BULA!

I used Bukowski's back
as a makeshift table,
and packed one to smoke.
I hit it a couple times,
only setting it down to text him back.
It's a chilly Friday night.
It's the first time I've felt Fall
this year.
A cool steady breeze blows
in my bedroom window,
and he tells me
I love you.

I'm like time just
Days away, love.
Smile, I feel I
need blue sky,
Say "free fall,"
and sleep,
Make moments fly
and
Lost hands won' t do it,
you're a little late, and
it won't air out
under the weight of the sand,
it's something great,
just days away, love.

She is the Ficklest of us all
Why else would she let wind and rain age us?
She has spent so much of her life lonely
She keeps the moon from the sun
Making them die daily so the other can live
Keeps the wolves from the moon
So they write the most heartbroken songs of all
Keep the sun from her flowers for whole seasons

Just like she put distance between you and I for a time
She hates how my heart beat resonates with feelings for you
And sounds in a faint pounding that will echo
Chasing you down for as long as sounds resound

She cringes when she thinks of us
Because she knows that all the touches given and received
Between You and I
Will forever be unsuccessfully mimicked by the ocean
Giving kisses to the shore trying for what we have

But I'm convinced the real reason she put distance between us
For this short time
Is because she knows how beautiful you look
When you first wake
And she saw that I was meant to fit you perfectly
Mother nature was fickle and jealous

Souls like ours have a gravity about them
Something Mother Nature cant even control
A higher cosmic source destined us
we have a pull between us
Like the moon on the ocean

She knew even she couldn't keep you from me
I am yours eternally
Because you are my sun, my moon, and my flowers
You are my sky
Your eyes contain galaxies and a millennia of explosions of stars
Your heart beat is every song that was ever written
Your touch is years of rain showers and lightening

You have me awestruck
And Mother Nature is fickle
Because she once felt what I feel now and forever will with you...

She felt this when the World came into being
She had her life and eternity unrolled like a welcome mat
When she saw her world.
All the trees, all the oceans, the clouds, rain, sun,
All the beauty it would bestow and already had...

Was almost as amazing
As what I get to see
Every time I look at you