Sip the poison with the cherry wine
and find out which one is more bitter,
but never figure out which gets you drunk,
just regret each gulp you take,
then make yourself ***** with anxious hands,
and omit the passion the runs deep within you.
Fashion a mold to sing a hymn to you.

Her crayons are sprawled out
Across the steakhouse’s table,
Drawing the star they want her
To be. The mood lighting casts shadows;
Their wrinkled, withered faces dampen her eyes.
“Can I show mommy my drawing?”
“…”
“Do you guys like it?”
“…”
She stops trying, they munch on flesh
A cash cow is more tender than most.
She’s hungry, and gets nothing,
Told to smell the sweetness of an apple
And spend the rest of her life chasing its taste;
Never achieved, they empty her of her dreams
Replaced by frauds.
Then the check finally comes, but at what cost?

Through the soft rolling hills of a quiet lush field,
The breeze carried the scent of lilac in the air,
Those pale, purple flowers upon which I longingly gazed,
Were placed in the waves of her braided blonde hair

We feasted upon daily, the fruits of the land
And passed the day humming a harmonized tune
We slept in the fields, where evil had no home,
And drifted off under the eye of the moon

Until one day the breeze died down
And the lilac scent grew weak,
She became the first to wonder
And first desired to seek

Heaven’s water flooded the fields
Burying the flora in a grave of sod,
Abandoned us, had the eye of the moon,
Our life seemingly ruled by an angry god

We decided we must go someplace else
Settle down to another blissful home,
So we left the hills with only linen on our shoulders,
And sought out a utopia; that great unknown

The hot, heavy sun hit our necks without mercy
As we trudged endlessly through that unripe land
The only beauty there lay in her unmolested cheek,
When she pressed to it my calloused hand

The emptiness of our guts was an unbearable pain
I looked over and saw misery in her eye
How could I fail so horribly, to keep her from want?
I couldn’t stop her tears, her hurt refusing to subside

One day we came upon a gravely wounded bird
After days of feasting on air, we rushed to the creature’s side
I mournfully brandished my knife up high
And ****** down and held it there, till the bird had died

O’ cruel fates! What a trick you did play upon us!
Our lost innocence from that ****** was no small sacrifice
The irony there is but a horrible joke,
That there had to of been death, to give us sweet life

She ate its heart, and I its brain
And after, the rosiness returned to her cheek
A state of shudder-inducing blushing I’d so missed
I trembled with joy and felt my knees go weak

T’was a couple days later, and we’d found another creature
A squirrel caught napping up in its tree
The deed was done, and we’d just begun to feed
While a shadow silently slithered and stuck a knife to the back of me

All my muscles then clenched, I dared not to breathe
She tried to help by disarming the man
He slashed at her violently, wounding her cheek
Then through her cries, grabbed our meat and ran

Over the starving weeks, her cheek did heal
And memorialized in her skin with a scar
Was a realization of the brutality of the world
Leaving our fragile psyche’s permanently marred

The incident damaged me less than it did her,
She couldn’t seem to move on
“It’s so hard to get up in the morning.” she sighed
Her lust for life had gone

The grey cloud took over her brain
And one day to me she said
“Perhaps the bird and the squirrel were the lucky ones,
And you and I’d be better off dead.”

I pleaded with her to keep going on
Life without her would be too great a pain
I begged on my knees to no avail
She said “I must cast off this mortal chain.”

The next day I awoke to find her dress, like a rope around her neck
The other end, tautly tied, around a branch of a weeping willow
With blurred vision I got her down, my tears fell on her cheek
I laid her head down on my lap; t’was her final resting pillow

I buried her in a hand-dug grave
And left the next day at dawn
I marched on to find a new home
To distract from the fact she was gone
  
Trudging along, alone with my thoughts,
To converse with there was no one else
After a while, the guilt had fully come
Because there was no one to blame but myself

On rolls in the grey cloud
My once calm sea grew rough
And the same question arose, again and again
Had I done enough?

I no longer bothered to search for food
I soon stopped drinking my water
I walked for days, without any purpose
It was like leading a lamb to slaughter

On the third day of this
My body gave up and quit
I collapsed in the field and waited for the end
I felt body and conscious split

I had a vision of a speck of light
That grew bigger and brighter by the second
Then with a flash appeared a beautiful angel
Whom to me she beckoned

I awoke from the darkness in a cave
In its mouth stood the fair woman
It tore at my heart to see such loveliness
That I thought she mustn’t have been human

Her long brown locks intricately braided,
Ran down the length of her spine
With skin as smooth as porcelain
I longed for her to be mine

She tilted my head back
And poured down my throat water so pure
She fed me fresh fruits and savory stew
Till my shaking hands were sure

She asked me of my past
I told her of the trip
She asked about my companion
It was then that I bit my lip

The gates swung open, out came everything
And by the end she saw a broken man
I told her I didn’t think I could continue to go on
She replied “My love, let me show you that you can.”

Over time she took my body and soul
And brought them back to health
Just let me say that a well man
Is worth all of the world’s vast wealth

She helped me find some purpose in life,
The meaning of it all without my darling
And in the process I found my heart
Belonged to her now, my precious starling

She spends the day foraging for fruits
And I hunting animals for meat
We drift off at night in the cave
Together we lie while we sleep

It’s not a new perfect Eden
But my love of life and happiness there do grow
For I once again, smell that lilac scent,
And can bask in its fragrant glow.

I am the cat that Schrödinger hypothesized,
prophesied of, to be in the purgatory of existence.
This nightmare I've dreamt of
in every waking moment spent
on what feels like broken time;
I reel in my awoken apotheosis
into a devil's living hell.

He knows my speed
but not where I lie
that's wherein my danger lies.
Clasp the trunk
speak of triumph through my chaos.
My deeds are punished
though I receive nothing;
I believe it's time for me to leave,
on towards Bethlehem,
to watch my little demon be born.

I ask them all these questions
about their lives,
their loves and passions
and pains and promises.

I ask because I love them
and care.
                 But what questions
do they return? A fraction
of what was given;
is friendship now
just a one way street?

Do they dislike me?
Do they despise me?
Do I even deserve their
fraction of affection?
And they wonder why I say
that I feel all alone; I've forgotten
what true friendship is, and wonder
if I ever really knew.

The mountain path cuts close to the bone;
I scrape by subsisting on mud & blood.
I've not seen a face in months, I'd guess
memories trickle, they no longer flood.

Where has Eva gone?
Each day she loses her grip on my mind
take me back to her little cottage
where each face of hers mesmerized and shined

to the point where heart & hearth were so moved
they saw certain scenes in brand new ways.
They captured doomed love by the heat of their hands
and separated us till the end of all days.

Now I trod and plod my way
to hell and back on through the path,
content in a way to waste my whims on nothing
as forlorn mountains still show me their wrath.

In the foggy hills of Appalachia,
through thickets of trees and brush, stood
a hidden house that was falling apart
as mold ate away at the wood,

and inside lay the palest being
that had hooks stabbed deep in its flesh.
It had cracked lips and a throbbing throat
that the sweetest water could not refresh.

"Come close cousin, and cry for me,
"I'm breathing my last." It said.
So closer I came, then it opened its eyes
they were colored the purest red,

and dazzled with innocence against the haunted house
they brought forth bright light from the dark,
red and white seemed to contrast well
and created quite a spark,

till the pure red did begin to fade,
and white turned to ashy gray.
I tore my heart from my chest as a sacrifice
but cried when the reaper said it couldn't stay.

It turns out a pale outline is much preferred
to empty space in the broken place
for I see nothing within that simple frame,
and it sticks out as the end of an unjust face.

We've all seen your eyes as they are,
redder than the sea he parted
to escape from your path,
swollen like the womb from which we all have sprung-
but you not gingerly enough-
misshapen and bent, and as glassy as the ceiling
you has hoped to break.

But only I've seen your eyes as they warmed by the fire
and caught the fire in a passionate fit
of determined grace.
And only I have seen your eyes
when they are at their peak,
brighter than the sun when the rapture comes,
surrounded by lines from a smile so wide,
and on a head with brightened cheeks,
displayed for the world to see.

Why do I think that
small gifts will curry favor?
I can't give my friends what they deserve.
I'm a cockroach in the dark
desperate for the light of their love;
let me feed off the wreckage of my damaged hopes,
my daring to dream of simple pleasures:
the embrace of camaraderie,
the gentle swelling of our hearts together,
a reassurance of their caring for me,
and the space to let the insecticide to work its magic.

I can't fathom my worth,
what is a star's worth in a universe of light?
Precious little, I reckon.
Their existence will carry on unscathed
by the dying of the light,
and so I go now, wearily,
into the loneliness of that night.

Pearls of protection on a ***** palm,
angst-addled fists seeking refuge in the wall,
we hold on to hope in different ways.

I hold my anger the hope of a hidden heart
and she ties her tears to the hopes of tomorrow.
Our grievances of the past are not forgotten.
Our grievances with the present are never-ending.
Our grievances with the future are not even aired
and already they grow weary with our beings.

Capitalize on the cost of seeking peace
by creating conflict within the conscious
and find out which one will prevail:
the anger or the sadness;
the fists or the pearls.

Let these words be your Northern Star,
a beacon in the darkness of night.

Heavy is the head with the noblest of thoughts,
hair laced with forget-me-nots falls
over shoulders that carry Atlas' burden
with a firm and determined grace.

Soaring is the heart
that's lighter than the feather
that Anubis will one day use
to proclaim your worthiness.

Beautiful is the soul
with the purest of intentions;
your soul is truly
god's greatest invention.

Hold on tight when life causes you pain
for it's just its way of teaching you
all the lessons worth learning.

In the catacombs lies my love, reposed
in the throes of darkness where demons roam;
dim lights shone on empty tombs
a guilty verdict reached before the trial could begin.
Let the dust mark the passage of time
and make divine the smallest of specks.
The wretched stench bespoke of rotting flesh,
fill our souls with musty cement,
and gouge out my heart so I can feel no pain.

Weeping as they dealt away my hand, there's nothing
in my fingers but the trembling
of my panicked state; I see that
my future holds nothing for me
except the same misery of the past two years.
My first decade on this earth was
bright & optimistic,
as I went along naively
with the misleading world.
The latter half of my second act has been fraught
with the abandonment of my mind and state of bliss.
Now I'm just a broken boy
terrified of what the third act will hold
and if I'll make it till the end
or if I'll abandon the show
in search of a better ending.

Give punks the pearls of protection
work till the problem-children are solved
let abusers lose by the fate of election
hope that jokers will eventually evolve.

Dilute you wisdom with water
or pain will shoot through their heads.
Console the ones who are bothered
bring soft light to where they see red.

Turn the murky water to wine
and separate chaff from wheat
to hear the future strike its chimes
to rid the grimy past of sleet,
and move on forward to a greater time,
and taste honeysuckle, simple and sweet.

Let me blunt my pain with a pretty phrase
the way a disciple of Kierkegaard should,
the way all poets do:

I Panic with the clarity of the night sky,
all turned about like the captain of a boat
leading his ship of the Absurd
through Sisyphus' strait
till I slip away smoothly
on a rowboat to the immortal land of death,
naively thinking I had cheated my creator
of playing the cruelest trick in the book
(and the oldest too).
But he still gets the last laugh;
an Immortal always does?.

Endure the day
Count hours between meals,
Minutes between carts careening past,
Seconds between shoes squeaking.
Keep the room dark to
Invite sparks of sleepiness.
Disparate thoughts run together, with only the theme
Of agony to join them:
The thought of the present situation-
Where I am.
Then the sun, She who is hidden from my view in this hell hole,
Outside these walls She’s free
And I’m trapped
And I can’t see Her!

If sight of Her cannot be
Relief could be found in the opposite;
Rest my head on the tear-catcher,
Block out the sound and
Bring the night into day.
Dreams of Her
Will have to suffice.

You may wonder why I did what I did,
it was for the many times I've leaned on you,
in my most tortured times you've given me peace,
so it's only right that I give
as much as I can back to you.

Forgive me for lying, but I was afraid
that you might not accept the gift I gave.
Had I kept it, it would go unused,
you have more need for it than I do.

Maybe I'm presuming too much but
whatever happened, I think you've suffered enough.


I hope this world won't
make you jaded and cynical,
that's why I wanted to show you that
there's still humanity left in the world
and if ever there was a person who
deserved the world's kindness and love,
it's you my dear, you deserve it all.

I can't physically comprehend
our reality; its space-time rhapsody,
the fourth dimension is abstract to our eyes
yet we can see it pass us by:
one long day or infinite moments,
we age the same,
gray comes to dominate us.

We forget how to walk
we forget how to talk
we forget how to hear
we forget how to fear,
numb to our end.

We forget how to worship what's above,
jaded from life's scars.

We forget how to love,
our cherished memories are lost.

We forget how to feel
but we lose immortality,
because we forget how to heal,
and we forget it all too soon.

I am a tree trying to
not waver with the wind.

Each leaf I lose eats away at me,
like their color they turned,
left me bare to the bitter winter wind.

The branches, thought sturdy, are broken by the storm;
it took away my connections to the world;
I thought they'd last, how could I be
such a fool? I'm more vulnerable now.

Looking for my saving grace, I search beneath the dirt
and find my faith in buried roots.
They ground me amidst the hurricane,
turns out they were what I needed,
not abandoning branches and fleeing leaves.

Waltz upon decaying tile
until you've danced for miles and
find yourself at the intersection of
future passions and past despairs.

Then you have a choice to make,
to continue along the crumbling road,
sacrifice your life for misery's sake,
ration the odds for your salvation,
and insulate your heart and soul
from the whims of wicked winds;

or you can make the turn,
burn what's behind you, build
skyscrapers to fuel your highs,
and go full force, higher and higher,
then your apotheosis will be complete

Creep inside the victim's pain
what did the abuser gain by
tearing her clothes and smacking her
across the cheek in a fit of raging lust?

Now she's nauseated and sore,
with a body both bruised and broken
all because he forced upon her a choice
between an immediate or a prolonged death,
the latter filled with self-loathing
and attempts to retake control
from the beast who thought only
of gratifying all pleasures
and left a shell in place
of a life once lived.

Two pairs of tearful eyes part at dusk
Bodies pushed apart by a hurt to brusque
Can’t the cruel gods let our love get through?
Or must we pray at this forested pew?
Why let what we were die a painless death,
When choking it could take its last breath?

Unlike a light bulb that goes out slow
Ours leaves behind no defiant glow.
And as the moon sinks into the sea
We are bound by time’s eternal decree
That separates lovers from aging desire
And leaves them empty at its haunted pyre.

We fought our cannibalistic insecurities
But became their unwilling allies with frightful ease
They entered as parasites into my head
Upon my horrors they were well fed
And now they angrily push us apart
And feast on what’s left of our once beating heart.

I’ll weep for the day that I forget for forever
Those innocent, youthful memories, we had together.

Pale red contours her frame
vivid red shames the sky,
the eyes of potential glorify her.
He puts his arm through hers,
patriarch guidance, she glides into the hall.
Eyes of innocence lock with eyes of dominance
mental math done to calculate their happiness
and their obedience.
Thousands of candles light the hall
all the decadence makes her nauseous:
the champagne, the oysters
the love, the lust.
So she runs around the hall, blowing out candles
dimming vision.
She's caught now
as their eyesight goes, letting them all see clearly;
true laughter and smiles ring.
But the blind caretaker
heard the commotion,
the thrilling emotion, and re-lit the candles.
The daze wears off
their "vision" returns to normalcy.
They slit her throat
and resume their dance.
The caretaker laughs.
Her bravery is forgotten.

It’s both a feeling and a lack of feeling
That’s why it’s black, not grey;
Both a color and a lack of color.

I can’t be conscious.
I can’t keep going.

I wake up in a daze
Still a little drunk,
Skunked, take a walk to take a ****,
Feeling like I’ve missed something,
The agony of the day begins.

Kicking myself over fictional sins
The sickly stench of solitude
Sweeps me into silence.
Too much caffeine to jog my mind
My body is nauseated already.
Steady hands left me long ago
Sorrow and saltwater is within my eyes.

I can’t be conscious.
I can’t keep going.

Black thoughts are my wife
Prolonged by life, the ultimate depressant.
Wasted days are ever present;
Not the exception, but the rule.

After nap time, slurp up the drool and
Go to kingdom Cruel where
No self-aware being escapes its own glare.
Thoughts are frantic and fragmented
A stagnant mind, fragile it finds
Relief in not thinking, to be found
In drinking Aristocrat. But it wears off too soon;
It’s a depressant they say
Have they forgotten about life?

An apotheosis awaits me in these streets,
from a lost, timid soul, scarred
by the shallow depths his heart can't reach,
to a vivacious creature, that
only a being like me could create.
The lights dance with the crowd, color crumbles calmly
and cuts through the chorus of lovers
all intertwined and tied together
by the sweet scent and essence of the night

I carry baggage all over my body;
under my eyes
I don't sleep much anymore,
nerves eat at my stomach.
I carry baggage in my gut,
it's filled with guilt and despair.
I carry baggage in my heart,
it's getting heavy, and I
will have to set it down soon.
I carry baggage in my mind
with all the thoughts, unkind.

Stretched out taut over a drum
is the skin of a dead man
who died at the hand of original sin.
Guilty from his very first breath,
till death he worked to right his wrongs,
only to always fail in the end.

Born a crook, his first steps
were taken in the sand;
left behind and blamed ,
the cup overflows with blood.

Bruised fruit hanging from a tree,
they dance through the flames while a drum
as dark as the night that's about to come
is beaten until it's broken by time
like his forebears' souls throughout the diaspora.

Lily runs out towards the field
the night is cloudy with
the tears in her eyes.
Hector sits with crepuscular creatures
little hard pretzels catch in his throat.

Cicadas ****** the air around her
guzzling through foam
is all he knows.
When will the sun relieve the moon?
For her, too late; for him, too soon.

Lily darling, don't fall in with him
regret unfolds when it's too late.
Hector my son,
where'd you go wrong?
She tumbles down the waterfall.

Help! Help! The town is in peril!
Its beasts of burden are raw and feral.
They devour children with their hearts still thumping,
Parents are numb, stand by, and do nothing.

In the town square, the great council is hung,
Chaos, with its destructive war, has begun
By lighting the town’s clock tower on fire;
To serve as the town’s funeral pyre.

In the tower, people all tremble with fear
As fickle flames more fiercely move near.
With blurry eyes they unlatch the window’s clasp
And resign their fate away from the flames grasp.

From the flames, there is life
That’s filled with saltwater and strife.
From the air, we take our breaths
And choose the option of a quicker death.