Vague, this peace is temporary anyway
Search for logical sense,
so much hay for such a small needle
There’s nothing logical here
Tread through straw
find cold ground the sound
of loneliness has filled this home
No fairy dropping in to leave a dollar
and take the pain
Groundhog Day
Drop sustenance into sputtering machines
Triple layers, unable to get warm
Take in sugar and light and nicotine
and, I can never make sense
of this brick pattern
Sit hours with sun and pen
Occasional interruption
Waiting for the night to turn
animal instincts into visual resistance
and drunken written phrases
that are surprisingly good

~kb

Simple like rose petals and rain drops.
Not enough brain stimulation.
Don’t start a fight with intelligence,
just because it’s belittled.
Can’t keep going backward in life
just because, it’s belittled.
Be little before you dream big.
Master complicated bearings
so you never lose direction.
Be largely modest, trust your shadow,
and know
you humbly hold the key
to liberation and complete downfall.
Step lightly with heavy thoughts and
choose locks simply,
like rose petals and rain drops.

~kb

Hair catches light and shines
a violet prism on pages
Sage bushes push their scent from
the edge of the garden
Watch hummingbirds
sip through small straws
Dogs sing songs
of annoyance while wind chimes
fight to be louder
And only a few orange ornaments
remain on once flowered foliage
Life and death grace the same soil
and have everything
and nothing to do with one another
Shift from relaxation with nature
to thoughts of the nature of life
Been set aside in that regard and
in the survival of the fittest I’d lose
Pen warmed to overflow
Start writing a
survivor’s guide to a poet’s mind

~kb

Almost forgot how to do this.
Concealer then foundation,
or the other way around?
I shouldn’t be doing this this isn’t me.
What am I
thinking?
Ugh, just get ready.
No wonder this takes so long
it’s filled with too much dialogue
and thought.
Criticizing every pore on your face
takes time
but they need the pep talk to act right.
Brown or blue... who
am I kidding? I’m not the owner
of some symmetrical bone structure
I don’t even have eyebrows,
how could I think blue would be an option?
Smokey eye and lung
put out my smoke on my tongue
while I tease a last little hair in the mirror,
like it won’t fall
exactly where I don’t want it to again.
Like I won’t fall
exactly where I don’t want to again.

~kb

***** fingers
hold dirtier habits.
Back track, of course it would
be the same outcome.
Deaf ears, the usual.
Butterfly ***** its wings in some
time, space, symmetrical shift,
and my life’s still ****.
Give me truth like a belly laugh:
undeniable, and exactly what I needed. Fixing broken parts with forgotten arts. Always forget how it starts and fear
the way it may end.
What if the work I put in isn’t enough?
Where will I be then?

~kb

You play me sultry
Down to a fragile state
From my salacious waist
I’m ready for lust to drift into
Your lungs as you inhale me
And I invade your bloodstream
And the blood in your
Veins starts singing my name as it
Pulses in and through your brain
And ****
Everything about you is liquid
Rush in around me
Immerse me surround me
Filtrate me through the
Fluid movement of you
So I can move as you want me to

~kb

One of the hardest things
is wanting to know the answer to a question so badly,
but also knowing,
the answer won’t change anything.
We fear the unknown,
but we also hold onto it,
because, we can’t accept that,
maybe there’s a reason
we don’t know the answer.
Maybe we’re being protected
so we can just move forward.
A little white lie, cover up
from the universe.
Just another reminder,
something greater is in charge here.
We just put in the footwork,
and are rewarded beyond measure.

~kb