2b or not 2b
what f'ing apartment am i in anyway




she sits with the blade at her wrist
to slice or not to slice
that is the question
            the decision

lives hang in the balance
hers first and foremost
others on the periphery
but only just barely

they die if she dies
just slower
they bleed out thru empty eyes
just takes longer

the razors edge is ambivalent
it cares not what it cuts
i've never known if the blood feels the same
does it wish to remain from whence it came

dead eyes are just that
   dead
extinguished light
  never to be relit
the color is still there
  but dimmed
        dulled
    empty
     eons of empty
      eternities of empty
   do not look overly long into the depths of that well
      Lassie shall not arrive to rescue you
        you and Timmy are just ******
           buh bye *******

the noose is the razor's soul sister
  the missus to an evil mister
we need both blood and breath
  evicting either is equal parts death

the wind is always cold
  when a life's final tale is told
like there's a hole in the river
  when there can't even be a hole in a river
but somewhere in the almost back of your mind
  you remember sensing that sliver
and trying for a moment to focus on it
  but it was gone in an instant

she's not coming back
nobody returns from that hole in the river
not once
not ever

you want to go there yourself
  scream your soul into the face of that hell
explain exactly how it should go **** itself
  in ways they don't even allow in hell

there are memories running rampant in my mind today
  borne of both blood and beauty
all those things which made me me
every single ******* one

very much not okay

eidetic sux when it rears it's ******* head
that's why i tried to make it dead

beyond any ability of mine to control
some of them are hateful hurtful
some are almost okay
  
****

Georgia Palmers


ducks in the backyard
quacks in my head so hard
transcendentalness only carries you so far
Then there are Georgia Palmers at the bar

how much wine when whim is mine
will convince me Clint still feels fine
cuz all of her jugs haven't helped so far
Glad there are Georgia Palmers at the bar

the Jester's tears still fall
they ******* flow bro
i Noe i should be better y'all
**** sometimes ALL the evils i still Noe

I wuz born this way
I tried to **** it all away
**** the words rarely leave me alone
and every word has an emotion/memory all its own

there are trees with leaves rustling above streams
my Brother Bob and I running beneath them and beyond
I wish I had never become engulfed in the screams
cuz once I heard them they've never been gone

Carla Kristy Frannie
all dead before me
is the only reason I remain
becuz I deserve this pain

I miss you
and wish it was me not you
i'm tired sometimes
I hear you in my mind sometimes

there was a tree with a rainbow above it
guitar drum crescendo everyone love it
cancer killed the tree
withered the rainbow
suicide stole the crescendo
sometimes **** it is all I Noe

oh well
  You fell
   i fell
oh well

Alone
lonely
nothing happening which matters
nothing left from which to shatter

the jester's tear ducts are apparently dry
noe more blood with which to cry
supposed to be dead once more
as has happened all those times before

I can still feel her
  hear her
  sense her
just there
the gentle scents in her hair
  this world is very not fair

she's barely beyond my fingertips
so close
whispering to my lips

oh wait that was years ago
or maybe months from now or so
I Noe nothing anymore
except that mt soul is sore

wait, did she ask my name
I was just late, I still cared if she came
that was actually the only important part
for this night or the current version of my heart

nevermind
it's noe longer mine to find
I guess I gave up that right
I seem to have forfeited the fight

I remember some stars and a sliver of a silver moon
we were walking on some silken sand in our 2nd favorite month of June
her eyes
her eys
never seen anything like those eyes
have you ever lost and found yourself in those eyes

tired
mired in tired
and as I exhale yet another breath
I hear the familiar laughter of Death

old acquaintance, this Death fellow
far from our first hello
his reality has long been with me
usually decades too early

they leave...I stay
they ******* die...I've yet to go away
seriously, they always ******* die
i'm Midas except not gold, die

they cease to exist
I somehow persist
they were pure souls
I'm merely a pure spirit

my Father's father was an *******
deserved his place in a 6 foot hole
My Father was a Better Man than I
although I Really Do Try
and some say I'm better than I think
live my memory dreams and tell me what you think

I'm kind
there is sweetness in this mind
kitties doggies and bunnies love me


**** it tomorrow will surely be another day
and I have a cool pool

the Power of the Peach      7-4-20


does she know the power she possesses
  the worship in her lover's ***** as she undresses
the NEED to see
               to touch
      to kiss

the Peach is life
  it is succor after all the strife
it is the sweetest embrace
  as you're seeing the yes, please
    on her face

kiss right
lick left
all night in that cleft
  before my **** pounds that mound

naked velvet flesh
  to my face is pressed
****** me my goddess
  as my tongue touches your tenderness
    eat you out for an hour
      in love with your Peach's Power

succulent juicy beautiful
  your Peach calls to me
sweet wet delicious
  your Peach owns me

succulent
  **** you clint
tight wet hot
  sticky sweet
luscious ripe ****
  do you want my meat

give me the Power of your Peach
  let me learn all it shall it teach
take me
  pleasure and passion
    any position
    every position
take me
  ride me
    grind me
      let me watch You move
        as I feel You move

to be inside you....
  that first full slide inside
      oooooooohhhhhhhh

then slipping sliding slamming
  sometimes slow and sensual
  sometimes hard fast animal *******
    and everything inbetween

pleasure passion
  with that lust love connection
if it's done right
  if it's not just one night

squeezing
  pleasing
screams and moans
  and ***** words
    which should be heard

it's nature
it's pure
it's shudder
it's shake
it's ***
  you gotta get some

and sometimes
  if your Peach likes rhymes
it's not just the physical
  cuz anyone can ****
there's an emotional intellectual
  where's it's not simply a cool pool
    it's a beautiful pond with a duck

it's not some rude grafiti
  screaming pathetically look at me
it's explicit AND exquisite
  singing you want true Beauty
    This is it

then you wake up in the morning
  and learn if it is joy or mourning
waking up naked
  beside her nakedness
please let it be be joy
  PLEASE,  let it be JOY

that there is a dream
  and several fantasies
that is giving life to a very particular personal dream
  and dancing in the moonlight with those fantasies

I don't Noe what all I can teach
  but Please give me the Power of the Peach

Woah, found this recently in my head...not bad actually...especially since I miss writing, like, a lot
I walked down whatever path was in front of me
so did she but we weren't WE
there were thorns on the ground
and all around
*** she screamed and I echoed
cuz it seemed serious *******
blood bleeds thru thorn holes
don't Noe if you knew that
but some thorns are metaphoric
and you can bleed from your soul
the walls seem ready to give up the ghost
and leave me dealing with the exiled host
synapses long silent set to refire
so this Clint seems set to expire
every memory from forever always there
three, nay four scenes playing together
i'd see them hear them smell them feel them
poignant powerful ocean within which i swim
i killed this **** decades ago to save me
it's why i put all those evil drugs in me
**** irony is a shakespearian witch
and she be a straight up full on *****
been fine bein' quasi intelligent
mostly anyways
found other aspects of Clint
which joyed my days
scared
terrified
reincarnation is upon me
the threats amplifying daily
don't wanna be that me
please
please
there is quite a pretty path weaving wandering through a forest, some groves, some open areas, some deep dark canopies, an occasional extended open space with a view you've only seen in dreams. Do you smell the fir needles and the fresh dirt? It's the type of experience which connects you to your planet. It's glorious and beauty of a type which no "e" connection will place into your soul forevermore.
along that path strolls a young man, perhaps a boy, he is laughing with his sister and the girl who would in a few years own his heart and his soul. Look leftwards, do you see the flutterby? Just starboard a wren whistles a mockingbird song and smiles and winks when you give it a confused face.
have you ever been on that path? I hope so becuz it teaches you a beauty beyond what most of us shall ever experience.
oh, anyway, he lived, sister died, love died, world continued completely indifferent...blah blah blah...path exists still...find it, enjoy it...
I walked down a path I thought I chose
naively believing I'm the ****** who chose
there were thorns on the ground
all around
but roses left and right
and Love actually gave me her light
for a little while
then of course back to exile
I walked down a path one day or the other
running laughing with Sean my Brother
he turned to look at me
yet said not a word
becuz we'd already heard
everything you could see
and spun kaleidoscope holes
along every fwy floor or wall
Oh ****
I forgot
he said...
and I quote...
…..Hello Nurse

YUCK 5-24-19


Doth it cometh again?
  sure, why not
   whatever
     guess i forget what i got

cancer never forgets
  and it can't wait to remember
suicide is anti-pride
  and its devour is also forever

those two evils
  are most of the kills
eliminatingmost of the lifes
  missing from my life

Sister not here to Noe i miss Her
  tell me how to tell tat girl i loved her
4 yrs older twin inside the same brain-skin
  never read my poet words she'd always heard
    tell me how to tell my myself better

my 1st LOVE was no different than yours
  except her inside & outside were more exquisite
wouldn't work out cuz i was too unpure
  always thought one day we'd laugh about it
    but did I mention how much I hate cancer

Carla was simply put a pure soul
  the kindest person I've ever met
she went one adventure too far
  and became a novae star
broke her beautiful whole
  and kissed the *** of Kismet

did any of you have that sister?
  the one who taught you everything and protected you and carried you and challenged you and
explained the exploration of the world and was the only other genius who understood the terrifying
bits at the back of the mind which were sometimes in the front and is the light EVERYone orbits and
then self-destructs and is an obit?

i am told i'm vibrant...i have a glow...i don't noe...tho it is true that very few who meet me forget me
  be that good ot bad
     but i'm a pale facsimile of my former self
        let alone her

Kristy Marie Dubbs
  Kirby
was the teacher we both wanted to be
  but much much better and more brilliant than me
I was actually kind of a natural
  but she had a whole nother level
our hero who made us love discussing
                                             discovering
                                                       every "becuz"
is the hero that to her students she was
   i miss her
       Foogie
           I Miss You

did any of you ever have that teacher?
  The one from whom it wasn't merely information but inspiration...this magical being who merged
    learning & joy, who opened the door to the world of knowledge and encouraged you to explore
    within...the wardrobe door is open boy, the adventure is yours...  For us it was Mr. Kurt Kasner, our
    5th grade teacher and ever after somewhat our muse, who taught me I should hone my natural
    instinct to think critically, analyze EVERYthing and state my case...hmmm, prob some folks who
    would wanna slap him....lol....

did any of you also have a they're both dead?
I hope not
cuz it sux

i'm an *******
i've held hate in my heart
unleashed it to take someone apart

i'm a sweet sensitive soul
take your pain as my own
sob yet stay strong as i groan

          i miss you Kirby
          i'm not okay
          it should have been me
          please un-die
          
i miss you Carla
i'm not okay
you killed me when you killed you
please un-die

they're dead decades before their time...
   the rhyme to that reason????

I don't know your dead people,
never tiptoed through their tombstones
nor danced within where they dwell,...
be that heaven or hell
But my dead people are all too active,
wearing shells
ringing bells
singing broken fairy tales
within my mind once more
or maybe twice
or at least thrice for sure
And As Always,
I'm Amazed i'm not one of them
Coincidence within Clint plays,
and Fate cares only for its own whims
Their voices haven't changed,
though I've been many times rearranged
There are still lessons to learn
so I still lean in,
eager to listen...
Innocence screams forevermore once you've ***** it
unless you forgive your ignorance arrogance
and embrace the growth the losses let you posit
**** pieces of yourself
then decide to Hate your new Self
and you'll **** yourself
You can be perfect
or as approximate as possible
and cancer kills you at 35
But if the passion for the path was pretty much perfect
and the intensity of the effort was always palpable
(and appeared as effortless as it was selfless)
then all those you inspired are that much more alive
Yeah, that's the poem for now...couple Main characters weren't heard from, except to say "you have to be up in 5 hrs for a ride and then chores and then work....so go to sleep, or I will put you to sleep. Check out the nametag grandma, you're in my world now"...wait, how did I slip into Happy Gilmore...