The fisherman tells the sea
that he promises to weather its storms.
The sea tells the fisherman
that she promises to carry him
to adventurous lands
upon her leeward waves.

As for me,
I promise we will be okay
as the winds blow the shingles
off our tiny, little house.
I promise we will be okay
as we follow the maps
and navigate the roads
while the radio sings static,
our hands clasped together
at your knee.

I promise that the rain
will radiate diamonds,
that reflect the gleam of your eyes,
onto the shores,
into the sea,
onto me,
and especially onto you.

We will find hope inside the clouds.

In a world of concrete
and televisions
there is no room
for love and liberty
only hyperspeed delusions

Screens project illusions
colorful and negative
******, ****, war
pure destruction
revolution

Communication boxes
with buttons and blinky lights
musical tones to let you know
that your mother says hello
her voice and face is not enough

Letters are overated
conversations are useless
chivalry is ridiculous
and a smile is anything
but friendly

Neighbors are irritating
too much or too little
of this
that
or the other thing

Knowledge is power
accessible, unclear and confusing
nothing makes any sense
everyone is stupid
but everyone knows everything

Convenience
is inconvenient
never good enough
fast enough
or affordable

There's internet
for computers, tv and cell phones
books in every format
knowledge through every source
but it's all lies, right?

No one knows the truth
no one can believe it
everything is a lie
and everyone is trapped
between televisions and concrete

Nature is forgotten
or locked in fences
near park benches
trimmed and controlled
to particuliarities

Consummables are consumed
without recognition
of the quantity
or lack thereof
until there is nothing left.

Used and abused
people and animals
plants and minerals
oxygen and gas
depleted, destroyed, enslaved

There is no room
for love and liberty
in a world ruled
by delusions
created from concrete and televisions

it's hard to crack a
coconut while
sitting under the
water;
in order to understand
the fundamentals of a
broken heart
you've got to know the
secrets of the soul

wait.

99% of human beings
are enchanted
and to lick the moon
you don't always have to
travel to mars.

Now wait.

my heart is a machine

behind every good

                         heart

there is an even better

                         machine

                     waiting to take over

                                impulse

beat- in out in out- beat

       who needs

                      feelings

{ the constant struggle of having to

             repair the break

crashlagslow hurt

                 -reboot- (Call tech support!)

temporary no sure fix

repeat }

behind every good

                          heart

is an even better

                           machine

                 waiting to mechanize

                               bastardize

                               supplement

                  LOVE

abiotic, anaerobic, clean, pure, simple, sterile

who needs

LOVE

when metal & pistons

are so much easier to

                       understand

                       predict

                       replace/fix ?

If they can engineer esters to

smelllooktaste

like anything on earth

                   why the **** can’t that make something

taste

       {like your lips}

smell

       {like your skin; cigarette sweet with an undertone of work sweat}

feel

       {like your too rough kisses and embraces}

because maybe if they did

it might make it easier, maybe I wouldn’t miss you

so ******* much

Fill the silence of our discontent with the sound of a swishing liquor bottle and the popping of pills.

We are rocks in each others’ sinking worlds but I’m

not your rock anymore.

You threw me out of your life

The night I let you

Hold me

The night I let you

Touch me

The night I let you

Fell the love I have for you through the touch of my lips

The pads of my fingers

And the walls of my ******

The night I gave you everything I had

And asked for nothing in return.

But I’m not yours anymore

I’m just a ***** on her knees begging for something more than ***** flavored

I

Love

Yous.

I’m not yours anymore

I’m not begging or crying with my heart torn open

Ready for you to pack another bowl within it

Waiting for you to forget
                                         hername
                                                         myname
                                                          ­                yourname

Waiting for you to slip past hateful sobriety

Waiting for you to drag me down with you to the bottom of a bottle

Waiting for you to

Love me.

Waiting for you to smile and tell me all the things I want to hear

and trust you.

But I’m not yours anymore and I hate you.

But today when you

Smiled, spoke to me like a friend

While she looked on from the corner

I felt my heart eager for more ashes and resin of some

late night whispers

that sound so sweet

but in the morning light

float away like the smoke that slipped

out of your mouth and into

mine

My legs ready to open

But then I remembered

                                 I’m not yours anymore.

For you

I’m not worth

the lighter

Cigarettes and love

You stole from me

But I don’t give a

****

Because **I’m not

Yours

Any

More.