#benzedrine
More of a man at 20 than at 22
All of the passages about One, there were no others
Regressing into sin, no art without misery
That old cliche, right? Right.
I read somewhere that he wanted to be a writer
He wanted to be a great writer, Remembered
Taking, making great sacrifices for art
Alcohol, Benzedrine, Isolation
Checkmate, One and Two and Three
The night (this night) will be my Desolation Peak
For now,
Looking back through the pages
Who exists in this manuscript?
Who is Marg?
Who is Sil?
Won’t you please tell me?
Won’t you come fill my Head. I’m not asking
Won’t you come fill my bed?
So I need not pretend
Were it that I could let you in
Save for those rare times when everyone appears not unctuous
To my uneasy usurious eyes
In an act of desperate atavism I return to the roots,
To the past, to the Grass,
(Looking)
To the glass
Only momentarily half empty
Before it is refilled
Where will we find our answers honey?
When will we cease to believe this positive psychology ********
You don’t need to be happy
You don’t need to be comfortable
You need to Mean
to have
Meaning
to create a legacy
Not shrouded in shame
and neglect
and fear
It doesn’t have to be the same
New city, new hope, new name
Erase the stain with pen and paper
Evoke change
See the world through baby blue eyes
The bucolic beauty brilliantly beats and beads down, blooming
Bright flowers in early mildew sunlight
Or Big Sur - view from the mountains
Or the moon
Soon my love, soon
Swoon, sweetly suggest
The sight of a lover’s supple *******
And her name like poetry on your soft still whispering lips
Tantalizing and tickling tongues
Tickling and tucking shyly
Soft skin swimming in hushed tones, brushed bones and quiet sighs
Wide eyed, clenching belies
The beginning and the end of far more
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC