They would hold their  hands up
High in search of golden nuggets,
Their dummies held up to the sky.

The map showing them where X did
Mark a spot, they crawled on their  
Merry way, through sand they did
Crawl, slowly never would they stop.

They didn't want it in a skull *****,
X marked the brown pongy spot. A
Bottom full of sand would slow a
Pirate baby down, making them
Uncomfortable  crying as their treasure
Unreached they would have had to stop.

They crawled under fallen trees, through
Shrub and looked up, and saw the branches
Reaching for the sky. They were nearly
There they had crawled for 20 feet and
Stopped twice for nap times, as it was
Far away in baby steps not like big foot.

They had reached there goal with dummies
In hand, many dangers faced but together
As a crew they got to the treasured land.

X was their goal and it did mark a spot,
Where the golden nuggets shined in that
Spot. Where the rusks had that golden tint,
And that yummy taste as they went down
With a bottle Of hot milk in hand that really
Hit that nap time spot.

Dummies held up high they had reached that
Promised land, where treasure was eaten an
Then nap time was coming close to hand, gogo
And goodnight.

Never keep a jar of hearts
They can easily be used,
broken, and
discarded as one would please.

But instead keep a bottle of stars,
you can have as many as you wish,
pluck them at anytime, and
watch them shine brighter than the sun.

Another bottle, another soul.
Another ghost, another ghoul.

You took the bottle, you drank it away.
You spit out words like a knife and meant it in everyway.

Another bottle, another soul.
Another ghost, another ghoul.

14 drinks and a thousand words, 14 years I'll never outgrow.
You took the bottle, but you took a soul. You took my soul, you took my heart.
You treated my heart like it was a game of darts and you rung the bulls-eye with no regret.

Another bottle, another soul.
Another ghost, another ghoul.

The night you took a soul, was the night you took my hope.
The same night I gave up and took that rope, I took that rope and clung to death.

Another bottle, another soul.
Another ghost, another ghoul.

You took my soul and now I'm gone.
You took my hope and left me with that rope.
You took that bottle and chose it over me, you took that chance and now you see...your little girl will never be because she took her life the night that you took another drink.

Another bottle...gone.
Another soul...forgotten.
Another ghost...created.
Another ghoul...forbidden.

If I could take what happiness
means to me and bottle it,
the top of the container
might look a lot like your
golden hair.

If I could take my dreams
and paint them on a blank canvas,
the final result
might have a slight resemblance
to your perfect figure.

I lost my mother a long time ago.
But you see, she is still breathing.
Still here.
But is she alive?

Bottles of wine stack up,
one by one,
on top of broken promises.

Pills are disappearing
but we all know
where they go.

"You call yourself a poet? A writer?" You said to me,
last night after I told you
how I feel.

So the poems I left for you,
I took away.
The book I've been working on,
I took away.

You said it four times.
The first time, I didn't actually believe you did.
The second time, my eyes ran cold.
The third time, I walked out the door.

The forth time, I realized you weren't
my mother.

Set the tone
Drop like a stone to the bottom of a warm glass
Empty bottle
Full of regrets
Water ring where the answer to all life's problems rests
Ring around the pole with a ****** lace waistband full of ones
Sliding
Falling
Sinking
Drinking
Never blinking
Or breathing
Just seething
Writhing and weeping
Creeping
Touches under the swinging light
Pendulum
Back and forth
Up and down
Forward and back
In
And out.
Breathe
Pulling in
Sneaking out
Stumbling in to the closest neon cathedral
The only reliable house of worship
The only tangible faith  
Slap a *** onto the wooden bar
Arms resting on the ledge, body held up by a ****** stool
Your constant crutch
Holds you up
Knees shake
Shoulders quiver
Back shivers
Hands steady
Cigarette in one hand
And a bible in the other
Pain in desperate eyes
Smoke invading
A prayer escaping chapped lips

"Oh Lord don't let my drink run low
Let it flow
Flow forever
Don't let me taste the last drop
If so
Let that last drop be a stone in my throat
And let me choke on my salvation
Save me from it all
Amen."

I'd forgotten what its like
to feel so cold, dark, and formless
Halting my inertia
overwhelming so completely
Hurling through the cosmos
A martyr of my own design
Black hearts decaying into ashes
becoming thralls to the march of time
I know its in there beating
Threatening to spring from my chest
Better to bottle up the pain now
and store it with all the rest?

my foot just clinked
two
empty glass coke bottles
together and it sounded like rain
rolling off your roof.