burnt cigarettes and tear soaked lashes-

the only way i know how to feel close to you anymore

you are all infinite
you, my children of the night
pagan wanderers on destinies lips
patrons of the streets, lonely, empty, wanting
I seen a generation fall
I seen a generation crumble
and be reborn.
You my midnight sorcerers on deaths hitlist
listless and searching
I seen the dance of a power divide
Ego denied, angry id, broken steps
steps
steps
steps
we walk steps in the open,
we talked talks of confession to the night
it held us, comforted us
We the unwanted zombies
of unheard promises and dysfunctional rational
you are all beautiful
undaunted by the lines
the crooked lines, cut mishapen, disater mishappen
Cheers to my world, my surrounding reality
scared and scarred by tomorrow
tomorrow
tomorrow
tomorrow
My vagabond lies, my homeless truths
You, my enormous, analytical algorythms of disobedience
of disorder, of chaos
Musicians playing perpetual reqiuems
Jazz of the dead, jazz of the wanderer, jazz of the beautiful
Show your hand, yell your claim
stake your play.
concrete mazes, blinding buildings, urban solitute
I have found you, I have seen you,
you poets of denial, poets of disaster
Prose of temptation
Words of lament
Speak to me my children of the perpetual night
My children of music, of poetry, of paintings telling me the broken down minds, the sacrificed
economy of love
I am lost in these streets
I am at home in the unknown
I am nothing but a dream, denied
We are together
all together, here, here and now
Lost together
Crowded solitude
Lets be solidified as one
You, my children are emptied of being full
full of unknown, full of yourselves and filled with *****
Drunken stories of lullabies lost
Pour me another, make it a double. doubled down truth
hit me
Cigarette stained finger tips
Plucked tense strings,
Strings so tense you could feel their vibration
We sit, listening, ears pointed at God,
Waiting to be lulled into compliance
I have seen your cigarette stained
Finger tips
Pluck strings of lament and prophecy
Sing me into your future
Oh beautiful melody
Oh wandering progressions
Telling tales of my transgressions
Oh trusty chords
Lovers speak only lies,
With cigarette gently sleeping between exhausted lips
Let us lie here
Here in this desolate desert moonscape
Forlorn homeless shelter
New antiqued flashood of home
I have seen us staring
Staring into the void,
Into the fullness of emptiness
These are not just dreams
Fevered and sweating out the ingested fungus
They are the dystopian dreams of
Every young adult novel
Of every science fiction, battered, back pocket edition
Dog eared, notes in the margins, yellowed with love, book.
They are the lost bibles of us,
Of our current histories and our future stories.
My friends
Gathered, exuberant, broken and shattered
Passing time on the the stools of inebriation
Come forth and be counted
The artist hang burnt offering from crimson skies
Sacrifices of the soul
Sacrifices of humanity
Exercises of humility
Stand here before me and and be chastised
A public flogging, a private shaming
A social satired informal gathering
Gaining peer reviewed synthetically blended praise
The dab hazed hipsters
Losing time,
faking time,
Cutting lines, sparking fires inside
Burn
Burn
Burn
Lose me in the iridescent, fill me in with acrylic
Wash me out with acid and cry-
Cry over me, cry with me
I am nothing, and we are everything.

Burned lips, charcoal lungs prowling for a breath.
Death wags its tail smells for a flesh to sink its teeth into.
Mortal man;
Entangled in the sweet web of addiction. Caught in a suicidal company. Yet, never strayed.
Something beats within my frame. A rotten heart. Shallow, but it evokes pain.
Eyes dimmed by apathy. My bleeding wrist soaked the canvas in red.

Instable mind,
Infected void,
A vulnerable body which greets the morning with a fever. Between the fingers holding a brand new
*** subsides the itching.
Mediocre,
Lacking lustre,
Pushing pain into poetry and prose. Subconsciously, I, emulate the old dogs and the papery white
moon smirks at my endeavour.

With a razor,
With a rope,
I, tried to bid this poet a farewell. But, he never departed.
Madness off the leash,
Broken tiles of dreams pave the floor. Not the stars.
But,
Hung bodies crowded the sky.
I'm a cheat, a thief.
Sadness in a vessel. A dying light in the night and what made you think you could save me?

I sit here
With intent to write
To finish projects due in hours
But, I stumbled,
Falling victim to media
And you were there,
A face I hadn’t seen in years
Staring at me through a cracked screen
A face that should be nothing less than framed,
Yet is shattered.

Unsure of why I left,
I can only imagine your thoughts,
Confusion may lie within you,
As it does me.

Was I making a point?
I forget.
Perhaps I should try to remember,
Or maybe I should leave it where it lay,
Blocked from any means of remembrance,
Just as I left you.

Was it mutual?
Probably.
For why else would you refuse contact
Other than to rid yourself of someone
Leaking toxicity, staining
Your Calvin Klein briefs
And Banana Republic sweaters
With their cheap ideas and faulty concepts.

I believed I wanted to be as good as you
And with you
And I still do,
Sometimes.
But, generally,
I think I’m better
Now.
Maybe.

Is this love?
I’m unsure.
I think I’m in love
Without you,
But also with you.
I have a second half,
Or maybe two,
Is this why I’ve felt dead?
Functioning at only a third
Of what I should be?
Demotivated and motionless,
Stationary,
Grounded
Due to hopelessness of a future
With you,
Without him?
There is no prosperity or happiness
In a life without either one
Of you
But maybe especially this one.

You’re 4000 miles away,
And you’re remarkable.
Congratulations.

tap the vein
the very flow
a fizzle-POP
the gears whir

dry-eyed in the garage
suckling that oaky rind
spin the clocks
if so inclined

the mothers plead
but She still calls for you
repo the lung
the liver too

this sickly sweet memory
this one too many
this cool kid
strutting streets in denim jeans

--
c

You always made it known
protested with a ***** and moan
about how my lips curled around cigarettes
when you aren’t home.

Testifying in a patronizing tone
that someday I’d end up alone
if the habit wasn’t thrown.

You just envied
the way they were slowly ******* my life
wishing you still had that power.