Babe your fine,
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Love, it really was nothing, stop overreacting
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Sweets, I don’t know her
But that’s not what my broken veins say
You know I’m the only one for you
But that’s not what my broken veins say
Couples are teams, and teams have no secrets
But that’s not what my broken veins say
I need you to do this, or we wont work
But that’s not what my broken veins say
You’ve caused this.
But that’s not what my broken veins say
It’s your fault it happened like this
But that’s not what my broken veins say
I didn’t hurt you, you did this to yourself
But that’s not what my broken veins say
But because I love you, I’ll look past it
But that’s not what my broken heart says.

mom was always self conscious about her veins
she veiled them with pants in eighty degree weather, constantly looking for cures for varicose and spider veins and always asked me if she looked bad
mom never looked bad, not even mediocre. she was mom.
mom shone through with a holy radiance of giving, i knew that when she got to heaven (even if heaven was never real god would make a heaven just for her) she would be blessed and her veins would be erased.
i would write her a letter telling her how her veins were art on her legs with colors that were abstract for the human body
i would tell her i love the paintings on her legs because they reminded me of all she did for decades, tiring her feet, never sitting down, giving her self up for half hearted people.
i would tell her stories that her veins were paintings made by God to show her how unique she was, and he formed murals for her that would never go away, with lilac, violet and green paints that stained his fingers
i would remind her maps and magnificent cities had veins of their own, they were the roads and tunnels that people traveled on to find their destination.
my hope for her is that she remembers her flaws are art that don't have to be hidden in a museum

A Friday night of imbued strangers
Streets full of all walks of people
Mostly staggered and tipsy
Haggered and narrow minded
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of rejection and temptation
I couldn't give my cash to enter a joint
Thoroughly rejecting a norm construct
Unhumbled and judgmental
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of inspiration and joy
Where I saw a mirror of myself on the streets
Vagabound souls sat begging for a today
Justice and truth prevails
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of me sat on the ground
At the entrance of a busy closed shop
Begging for the homeless soul as people sneer
The abuse and hate ejected
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of broken promises
When all they do is try to have ******
People set traps of unfriendly gesture
The rotten and pompous society
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of me wooing the drunk
Melodious symphony of "change please"
Negativity beakers but we made money baibe
A reflection of minimalism
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

A Friday night of concluded perception
Their souls touched me, they can go back a time
They try but have no strength within
Sour love was the wound that brought them hassle
As they sing the only one anthem of
pumping  alcohol inside their veins

It's not a Friday night anymore, the dawn smiles
I have a warm home and access to facilities
They have no options and crack is their hope
Police huddles and societal direct abuse
As they sing a song for strangers to listen
For your smile and talk can be the only hope they got

Your veins allure me,
The way they create currents in your skin
Along your arms.
I ponder what makes your heart beat so fast
That blood pumps through them faster than it should.
Where have you been cut?
Can I slide into one of the slices so I can swim your veins
And be a part of you?
Can I nest in your heart and make a home there?
You've got permanent residence in mine,
Because have you seen yourself?
You're as beautiful as the sunsets and oceans and trees and beyond what the all magazines say.
You're as alluring as the veins in your arms that rise up in your skin.
Let me in, let me swim your veins and mind.
Can I make your blood pump?
Will your veined arms hold me?
I'd let you into my blood stream
If you'd let me into yours.
Can I make your blood pump?
The way you have no idea you're utterly breathtaking sure gets mine flowing.
If you ever feel a slice again,
I'll kiss at it until you've healed
And I'll show you my scars too.
Your veins allure me,
But dear, the rest of you keeps me 'round.
When you're ready, I'd love to trace your veins with my fingertips
And then my lips.

Veins
I can feel you, in my veins
Within every breath I take
You're like my oxygen.

I can feel you, in my veins
In between every heartbeat.
You're that blood that pumps up through my veins.

You're that rush, that adrenaline.
You're that matter inside me, that dark matter.
You keep my body working you're in my veins.

Veins, veins,
length and breadth,
intertwined

beats to freedom
or desolation;
a terminus

lost on a circular.
An ebbing destination,
unchartered targets,

Follow the signs.
We are a one way street,
follow the signs

on software maps.
Stumped
by sequential lights

and us, caught
in a dragnet
within steely fish,

gasping for air,
choking on smoke,
bilious coughs,

hacking sputum,
gobbing phlegm globs
in interval gaps

within gridlocks;
nose to **** to
nose to ****.

The rage, the stares
the shouts, the finger,
the Grrr’s, the Rrrr’s,

the honks, the blares,
the bumper to bumper
expletive shares.

The rolling down,
the alighting,
the threats,

the fighting.
The falling down,
the separation,

reseating,
the rolling,
the thunder,

the trudge,
the stops, the starts.
Follow the signs,

follow the signs.
Robotic conveyors
for humans,

mechanical
fossil fueled
chariots,

grumbling, grunting,
wheee-ing and
screeching,

and screaming
and spewing
and chuffing

and guffing
black plumes,
air tarred,

veins, veins
clogged and bogged,
viscous, molasses,

liquid black blob.
Road fogged,
numbers logged.

Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
slow crawl.

Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
follow the signs,

sprawl.

Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017

Your brittle calcium coated voice
slides down my throat like water,
little blue gods of poetry.
Nothing to do but **** and fight.
There’s a run on sentence in my veins
whole flowers framing my bruises.

My bone quiet bruises
wait five miles from your medical voice,
english coastline of veins
covering my anatomy like large bodies of water.
**** yesterday’s fist fight
you left your apologies in poetry.

My alcoholic poetry
a blood orange coated in bruises
a history of last night’s pillow fight
catching religion in your voice.
The swallows splash in water
quiet in my dessicate veins.

Fields of goldenrod veins
make my honorary poetry
a theory of cursive water.
Leave aching vegetarian bruises
on my calloused voice
from tearing open the sun to fight.

A polaroid water fight
rolls around in my open veins
a punctuation of your raspy voice,
hospitalized my skin in poetry.
A reckless consumption of bruises
with a mint leaf in a glass water.

Soft echoes burn across the water
silver scissors in a domestic fight
running away from bruises
and mountains of veins.
My second language is poetry
giving my fingertips a muffled voice.

Empty water pleads with your broken voice,
makes me fight against pleated poetry
and pomegranate bruises tighten in my  veins.

they run through my veins.
my past experiences,
the times i've fallen
and the times i've stood up.
they run through my veins.
my dreams,
the answers to my purpose,
to my identity,
to my beliefs.
they run through my veins.
the people who have hurt me,
the one's that i've forgiven
and those that
have forgiven me.
they run through my veins.
every tear and every smile.
every glimpse of a second
that has made me
stronger, and brighter.
everything i am,
is because
they run through my veins.
the letters that spell out
redemption.

Contagious words
Toxic veins
Tender eyes
Blossoming chains

Contagious words
Toxic veins
Unrestrainable pulse
Everlasting stains

Contagious words
Toxic veins
Empty souls
Vacant trains

Contagious words
Toxic veins
Hollow souls
& Manipulated brains

i have flowers in my veins.
many have them tattooed,
others just imagine the blue lines
as forget-me-not roots.

i have flowers in
my veins but i have
the sweet aroma
coursing in my bloodstream.
the petals disguise themselves as white
cells. the roots are deep within my
heart.

i have flowers in my veins.
and you planted them there.