Green grass grew where marble now lies
Teasing the past to summon old cries
Where summer dies and stars no longer seen
Appearing in mud and everything unclean

Simple waves crash upon complex shores
To wash away all the world ignores
Weathered seams and broken dreams
Unseen images and blocked sun beams

This is the story that no one told
These are the truths that make us cold
Cherish the memoirs, use what they show
Live in the moment, let the past go

Slice. Suture. Repeat."

[How many times has it been now?
      Three or four? Three for certain. Or maybe this is four.
            Smiling is just... plastic and puzzled. Sordid, *****.
                  ..this is my face!]

"Slice. Suture. Repeat."

[Stiff. Arthritic. Brittle.
      Plums taste of plaster.  Chewing is almost impossible -
          congealed chalky paste.  Chicken or stew?
                At least she is still with me. I don't remember much...]

"Slice. Suture. Repeat."

  [Feeding time now requires intubation.
          the scar-tissue will need to be excised again. sigh
                so it was an accident, I think. Wasn't there someone... else? ]

"Slice. Suture. Repeat."

    [is Everything diluted.  blurry are Faces.
            with me One was... I think...
                  I don't mind much...]

"Call it.  He's gone."

Up all night, bleeding the hate from my body in forms formed in my imagined imaginary worlds of discord served up on a page.  For the moment, now I am free from the chains and from all that remains of my ****-hurt plastic love growing pains.

As words, verse, and liquor traverse, seep out of my pores, and my eyes become sore with the filth of **** ******, I write until nothing makes sense, until I am no longer upset, until my mind ceases to fret on past woes, split seams, and broken playground dreams.

It is within this hour, I remember to breathe.  To take a look at my life and to take a look at me and remember to smile, to know that life goes on, we all hurt, but I plan to stick around and stay for awhile.  The pity party packs up it's package of filth and its pained remains. The dark side of me spoke and he shook, and he opened a vein. The dark side of me overstayed his visit, tired and sick and weak from the the fray, he decays. For now, the dark side of me is fired today, and sinks back into the depths of grey from whence he came.

A per diem employee of the heart, the 'dark side of me' part, but when the heavy **** begins to start, and it all falls apart, the snakes come out to play and to ****.  So when your eyes start to leak, and life's feet change its beat and begins to defeat, he'll come back around when my soul is bound, he'll bang out his sounds and you'll keep him around to absorb the hate and the ****, to hide it from the bright side with caution tape and help you remake.

In the end, he's a necessary evil, all pieces in harmony share your loves, your hates, your wishes, your breaks, your woo hoo's and your boo boo's.  All pieces in harmony protect you, keep you sane and keep you tame, keep you in your own shoes to do what you have to, and he'll take the blame.  

This is life, and for now I am alone.  I once loved more than I thought I could, and with such a high, on rainbows I stood.  It was too high, it was too steep, the snakes came in took it away.  I fell so far, I fell so low, I fell until broke, then I fell some more.  Would I do it all over again knowing the same outcome? Without hesitation.  This is all.

How to prepare a broken heart:

For this recipe you will need to acquire,
one human heart, and pound it out flat,
blood, eight pints to ten, and boil over fire,
four months of tears should provide for the salt,
add the better part of a soul, a few good intentions,
and pinch of "it's all your fault"

now add your hopes, and add your dreams,
ground up a little warmth and some smiles,
and sprinkle it all with a dash of defeat.
disrespect, shake and repeat.

mangle, beat, and crush with your feet.
tear open your chest,
**** it all inside, right under your breast.
heat at "Hell" for as long as it takes.
baste with fear and loneliness for the time that it bakes.

you won't know when its done; it doesn't come with a timer.
Just be patient; let the torture unfold.
when all of your faith in the world has receded,
and your bright eyes go dead and defeated,
when your childish view of the world grows old,
your dish will be ready - best if served cold.

Beautiful night's sky,
a splattered canvas of light peeking at me through pinholes,
watching me..
mocking me..
wondering why I am alone.

It is too fair a picture to look at alone.
I try to stare at my feet.

All love's efforts, dreams, and hopes,
put through the meat grinder and wrapped with a bow.

Why do the stars taunt me with their judgmental eyes?
What do they know anyway?

Under these starry skies,
I used to hold her so close it hurt.
I kissed her told her everything would be ok.

Now I can't bear to look at them.  
I try to stare at my feet.

Beautiful, starry sky...
Another casualty of war.

Somewhere candlelight plays as two lovers dance
someone lights a few for a love anew or one gone askew
someone is taking a chance on a branch,
with a lit candle and poem just for you.

Somewhere someone closes their eyes
radiating love, bursting at the seams!
Somewhere someone's curiosity peeks and pries,
and hides inside your most precious dreams

Somewhere someone's hand needs yours,
longing for you in every way.
Somewhere new love has begun its course.
Somewhere someone prays you won't go away.

If you’ll take my hand now, we’ll go far
If you’ll take a chance now, and show me who you are
I will love you more than you could possibly see
If you can see yourself standing next to me

I’ll watch over you like a star above
keep you afloat on treacherous seas
Oh yes, I’ve so fallen in love . . .

I long to create worlds with you.
You dumb my tongue.

I am yours to tame,  stand by you,
wash away all of your tears,
and beat up all your fears

This is me at my most vulnerable,
wishing to hold your hand for the rest of my years.

Today is the saddest day of my life.
Sad because, I have lost my sense of smell.
Her scent will no longer tease my nose toward her,
I will never smell perfume, sweat, or ***
flowering aromatic recall - the strongest recall of memory is lost.
Soon, like puddles in the hot sun, she will begin to dissipate.

Today is the saddest day of my life.
Sad because, I have forgotten how to see.
The sweet beautiful curves in her face,
her smile, her brilliant body, her great bright eyes,
if only I had made the time to memorize it.

Today is the saddest day of my life.
Sad because, my tongue has gone dumb.
Chocolates and ash, all tastes the same.
I no longer want to eat,
it all tastes of grey.
Never again will taste her lips or her tears.
I will never say, I love you again.

Today is the saddest day of my life.
Sad because, my ears can no longer find sound.
I will never be comforted by her sweet calls or pet names.
Music will no longer touch my heart.
No one will ever yell at me or sing to me.
I will never hear, "I love you" again.

Today is the saddest day of my life.
Sad because, today, I have lost my ability to feel.
I will never be hugged close and snuggled.
She will never kiss me under mistletoe or on new years, or ever at all.
I will never make love again, feel her silky skin against mine, or an ******* release.
Fire cannot warm my soul anymore.
And nothing will cool the burning in my head.

I am blind, deaf, and dumb.  I hear nothing.  I feel nothing.  I am numb.

Trees weep for their fallen leaves
laying on bracken and brush
slowly decaying and decomposing
back to the earth from whence they came

A birch whose limbs hang low
aware of the pleasure they once brought to swinging children
that now stands still
and awaits the next winter’s
icy chill

Bright grass kisses the sun and broken marble shys
Teasing the past to summon old cries
Where summer dies and stars no longer seen
Appearing in mud and everything unclean

Simple waves tease rocky shores
To wash away, all the world ignores
Weathered seams and broken dreams
Old Polaroids fade to nothing under sharp sun beams

This is the story that no parent told
These are the truths that freeze the soul cold
Cherish the memories, memorize what they show
Live in the moment, and let the rest go

In the space in the middle,
I watch her sleep.
So imperfect . . . yet perfect for me
Watching her chest raise and lower as she dreams and counts sheep.

My world has turned upside down and inside out.
All my wants, my wishes and fantasies infuse
A bright new body
My heart unconsciously adds her to my most favorite dreams

My soul knows now, it cannot live without her,

I do not want to fall asleep,
What if she were to wake,
and I missed her even for a moment.
Stranded in the place in the middle.

I dream my place beside her
in her field of red
Sitting amongst the stones.
Slipping away from myself.

Tomorrow, she will be gone.
She will not return.

Paralyzed, I watch her wake,
She speaks in tongues that lap at my face,
All I want to do is hold on to her
Keep her with me for just one more day.

But I cannot wake up, and I am not quite asleep
Stranded somewhere
in the space in the middle:
where dreams come to be born or to die.

Dry and clinging to the walls of my empty suspicion
I crawl without moving
And move towards the hollow calls of foolish lies,

Whose meat feeds my need to feel numb,
Dumb and distracted,
I repeatedly re-enact the play that is my life,
A satire of piecemealing the whole,
Living on the gratification of stealing being,
Not certain of actual feeling
Persisting as a pretend order amongst the chaos
That permeates the holes within the hollow
Constantly doubting.

Scraping and scarring the cold surface
I’ve molded to seal my fading warmth
Within the progressive advances of a lost purgatory unseen.

She derails me.  
breathtaking, magnificent, tongue dumb
words fail and sense blurs

punch drunk love fear.
an unfamiliar juggernaut
on a collision course with sanity, confidence, self worth
unfamiliar, unwarranted doubt.

Paralyzed dumb,
I have no explanation.
Nothing taints a true childlike expression
I stray into unattainable delusion.
expectations, trailing tangents, delineation.  

Peacocking:  false representation of self.  
Benevolent intention falls victim to accelerated dissonance
Nano lies upon nano lies build a plastic truth

Why am I doing this, and why can't I stop?
She would have loved the real me..
The tongue tied, school boy all awkward and sweet
Do I go for a kiss or just throw rocks?

Oh well, she's gone now.
The fake plastic boy scared her away.

Maybe she will comeback
to see what she’s been missing. Maybe
he will see that
she never left in the first place.

Maybe today will be different. Today
they will applaud your opinion.
to see what others see about you
maybe.  They will see it your way.

To come and play among the trees.
Maybe she’ll hold your hand. Tell you
you are not as strange as you think.
Maybe they will open their eyes

Accepting. They will invite you
she will embrace you. Maybe
words won’t lie when they speak
But they do. And she won’t.

“Rain clouds, come back to play!”

He falls.
He breathes.
Stop trying to fix him.
He's not broken.

He is the lie, living truth
so you all can hide
and believe in your fears.
This time you hurt him a little to hard,
so with your protection, he disappears.

At times, he has forgotten how to dream.
He is what time cannot tell without death,
and with his back to the sun,
his time has been told,
showing him a fear he can't hold.

Although he is gone,
his memories wanders near,
forever to wrestle with
what she hopes he feels
but will never hear.

A tender apparition hovers proud,
although she cannot see its pristine placement.
Now the scared sheep have no more protection,
For once, he lets them feel wasteland
and taste it.

Looped faucets
Chrome and hanging
Pinned sleeves of the veteran
Trying to remember what it was like
To wash up

And the tears hung
On swollen lips
Inside the mind
Of love's broken dreams

And he cried . . .
He cried inside
Of a delicate mind
Unable to hear voice
Unable to comprehend time

. . . and the clock struck midnight
Yet nobody knew . . .

oh, detracted, exalted train on unconscious tracks!
how can one so unwielding, so unyielding, so ******* unrevealing
dare blemish purity of the sacred?
unattainable ideal that the actualized only dream of explaining!
how dare you!

As summer dies
and new lives arise,
  he sits on a swing in sea of sand
alone.

slowly swaying to and fro
the grace of a naked tree limb
in Fall’s gentle breeze
pondering truths and “what ifs,”

Carefully with a course hand,
he crushes a dry red rose,
and as the crimson flakes of ash
crumble and slip through his fingers
it all becomes clear.

Through the clouds’ whispers,
he stares up in to the pale moonlight
and discovers how to smile again.

Satired attempt of release. I give in.  I fall. . .
Still uncertain of radical advances in spirit: society’s breached birth of the familiar
Bound and gagged, clung electrical beauty transpired in beads of the dis-pristine

I unravel.  I create. Torn from all known peace in chaotic slumber; I am preserved.
*****.  My sonata spent like the lost cries enveloped in simplicity.
And it cries.
It cries for what it doesn’t know or understand
A seizured wall of insecurity left blind to the rest,
and sometimes infurity.
*****. Held. It smiles for now,
Wondering what comes next.

I am drying and damp and deep in trying
to hold your fist instead of your hand.
You pull me closer to get far apart.
I have bled words and language
for your unhappiness and my fears
and now your gone with all my tears.

Your ghost is my lover
falling after your grave and smiling.
I am a field of war and trying is my enemy
covered in soot and grey ash.

My war without purpose and yet I stay.
To walk away and take with the town,
and a thousand warriors lay their arms down.

The jazz begins.
Sitting on leather, my glass is full –
the beast of simple pleasure.

Dwelling on struggle,
Still and sitting and sipping and trying
to take apart my heart
and sharpen its springs;
I’m sprung.
Noticing now I end, where I have begun.

Fall apart and settle down
to complexity’s tragic decline.

He’s gone too high now on the ground
Smiling and saying that’s he’s just fine.

Combine.  His doubts with suspended fears
Rising above the city’s circus tent
Tasting sorrow’s vine for all these years
Never warn out and never spent.

Content.  In sacrifice, his eyes are closed.
Tear apart the stitching to reform.
To see the wrong right has proposed.
The elusive  norm.

Yet they Conform.  They try and hide -
Burying their science down inside.

sever and broken all the world
all that’s loved, all that’s lost
all that searched through empty lots and ducked
all that slips through the night
like a broken playground dream

. . .and all that could have been, condemned and contained

like all the putrid of miscreation
. . .and all scorned with painful regretation

like all those born with a tortured soul

and all that are and all that could have been

I am your placid thought
hiding your wicked desire of plasticity
I am the trees’ haunting

. . . I am your forgotten, by all it seems
I am your ruined . .

Bury me inside your favorite dreams.

Somewhere in between right and wrong
decisions fall into rain
dissipating delusion
into starry nights of understanding
bringing meaning to abstraction
drawing love from attraction
eradicating hybrid thought
from incomprehension.

Only through what is not meant
to be understood can a man
hold his emotions
like pressure points drawn on dolls
rising like the bubble
that almost made it to air
but burst on the surface
of silence.

Rain loose like unhinged petals
Waiting for their inevitable journey
To be reborn again
And again
My reasoning diluted
Separating form from thought,
Plastic from reality
Simple in a way that has to be

Like all we encompass
Together or apart
Like all that pretends to stand
When we imagine ourselves lying down