Of all the voices in my head,
yours is the only one
I keep hidden
under my bed...
and if you're wondering why
listen sometime to how you sound--
it's as if butterflies are speaking
as they fly
your voice soft as the flutter of their wings
as they go peacefully by
and whenever I get scared at night
I just think of you
and imagine that your voice
will surely get me through
til morning brings me back the light...

107

’Twas such a little—little boat
That toddled down the bay!
’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea
That beckoned it away!

’Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast—
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!

"I'm NOT going to tell you
this is NOT
JUST a test
like I tell ALL the rest

that it's ONLY
a test?
C'mon
you should know better"

I'm noticing this guy has a lot of ink
all over
and the darkest kind

"So it's NOT
Not an ordinary exam?
this ain't basketball tryouts?"
I ask...
"I just took a walk in the park
had a...
white
****** knuckle sandwich
I played pinochle
with the Old Man
rode in bear backed
like Lady Godiva...."

I heard
words &
Maniacal laughter
played by symphony  of demons
& smirking
violinists in the background

"I'll tell you it
is
in
FACT
a
TEST
****
a super difficult one..."
then

".....continue reading my contract...."

reading and absorbing
unfathomable amounts of learning
and yearning
with
excellent Earning Potential
requires a decent,
above average
genius IQ
i don't need anything
other than...
to
leave my heart behind
and any other angels
my set of wings
saved aside
this is just a ride
I tell myself
they cast him out you know
fallen Angel
and....no other Gods, Mommy, Daddy, deities....xcetera.

"logically it's been there all along
everyone hears me
not like you can IGNORE my voice
you've seen my ad...."

(a bony finger with a long sharp nail
points upward)...

"up there
you know where...
on the billboard in Times Square
i am 100% certain it was you"

and it is
here I am.
Okay, I'm in control...breathe
take a sip of moonshine first
shhhhh...
listen
a little chuckle

Lucifer continues....

"You can bring Conscience along
she has been cleared.. "
Loudspeaker coming on
"We repeat
this is NOT a Strong Storm warning
there won't be any arms waving
no lights like at the airport
telling you where to land
no hands outside the vehicle
or for holding"

A pause,
finally...in closing
he looks my way...saying

"You'll stop at the Crossroads
lose the shirt
see a
blinking Amber Alert
don't stop at the bar
no flirting....

look back
actually there's a poetic flood
it's coming
that 'deluge' of your
bloodstained Indigo ink"
filled paper
boats are
floating &
he is gloating
"you might refer to the Ark section
of your Manual
before it's time to go...."

I gather important
necessary documents
for example making sure my will is signed
on the dotted line
***** donor checked off
blood type
leaving all others behind
no certainty of any kind
may not return
from an
Unknown Destination
things tend to get worse
  before they get better
  grab a sweater
a bumpy ride
my friend
dragging those
    sharpened ink filled
       fingertips
       down a chalkboard...
       I  buckle up
   transportation provided
nausea subsided
here I go
down below
  "I thought
     I would
     always have to
      take you
       kicking......
        & screaming
        still saying the
        Lord's Prayer
        signed, sealed
          & delivered."
         I smile...
         nod ...
          I say
         "Yut...
           guess so"
            time to go
           getting up
            from a chair...
             & I swear
              I am
              walking
               out
                no
                room
                for
 ­                any
                 doubt.

Cherie Nolan © 2016

And let the sun cook you like a ham sandwich
Swallow the salty water of temptation
Gag on your fingertips
And cry endlessly for salvation like a feral cat in the night
Kiss the moon, and cut the sky
Roll your car over at eighty miles per hour
Laughing and crying but laughing

I'm sick of eating organic
sometimes I just want to eat the face off a dead squirrel -
That's what we call McDonald's where I'm from.
Not really though.
Sometimes I think about my eating habits as a child, and what was allowed
My God great good Lord capitalized I did on milk duds and mountain few
I got so sick into a sink
Putrid fluorescent bile
It's not my fault.
It's not my fault.
My mind had a mind of its own!

they are multiplying
growing
and splitting, at the seems of sadness
glowing screens and madness
it happens, a lot
you're distracted, a lot
and I'm attracted, to thoughts
of where i'm trapped into -
accidents -

The cameras got there too fast.
Me and you?
We weren't too last -
Then metals bent, and glass shattered

kiss the ring of the employer
holy matrimony, me?
join ideas with a ******?
I'll go grey hair as long as I can stand here.
and watch.
Listen. I'm okay with this.
it's there when I need it
it's there when I don't
it's in the air I'm breathing
it's in my hands my hair and my scalp
it's behind my eyelids and in my mouth
it's all the violence, in the South
It's black on white crime
It's money inside politics
It's a sweaty lipstick ******* in San Francisco
It's you
It's me
It's America, it's the whole ******* planet I say -
Where scientists are the only ones who don't sin -
Not the religists, or people who's kids go to elementary schools that cost more than my college degree I now only know I didn't need
It's the color wheel
It's everything
And it's mine, please.
Please Please Please.

Another poem you'll never read
Another night I run on all fours
Wild and free.
Another car in the driveway
That was never made
A neighborhood my self conscious subconsciousness
somehow decided to create -
Two male bodies that bear no threat
But to me and my dealings my stomach upset -
Another kiss I never thought I'd taste -
Like flat rinsed toxins running across my face -
My eyes and fingertips forced together
Please don't wake me up
I wish to stay with you forever.

Only takes a small axe
to chop down a tree.
Which one are you
is the other me?
Could be harder to untangle
roots deep weave
from what we have
to who we could be.
Shall we close the book now
go our separate ways
and wonder how the story
could've played?
Or do we carry on growing
creating page after page
trying to forget the trees  
from which they were made?