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A minute ago I walked for miles with
her in the stroller. She let me rest
at all the playgrounds with swings.
Snow falling on her face was the best.
I read her to sleep at bed time
and answered endless questions why
did the prince always kiss her awake
from endless sleep and she didn't die?
I told her I wouldn't always be here.
The white horses and ice palace melt.
You have to love yourself as much as
I do. Stand strong feel how I felt.
I died and she lives in the Smoky
mountains with a Prince's love
and I watch out for her as always
my ghost always hovering above
She disappeared in a wisp of smoke
in the Carolina mountains with her
destiny and her love. She is them now.
They live in this old heart as one.
Your breath rattles in a fragile chest
the heart feebly clanks to push blood
when there's a bit in the aorta. You're a
young man in an ancient failing body by
an unknown disease. You lean on a cane
slumped in a chair waiting for a miracle
that won't come for you. You're a skeleton.
We fear you. We fear death and ignorance.
Your breath rattles in a fragile chest
the heart feebly clanks to push blood
when there's a bit in the aorta. You're a
young man in an ancient failing body by
an unknown disease. You lean on a cane
slumped in a chair waiting for a miracle
that won't come for you. You're a skeleton.
We fear death. We fear you. I fear ignorance.
Bailey-Boushay House provides exceptional and compassionate care to people with ***/AIDS as well as end-of-life care for people with ALS and other complex conditions.
I pull the shade down and turn a blind eye
       to the city's darkness. No one even cares.
       It's hard to live in Baltimore anymore.
       We can't buy our way out. We do best we can.
       City's dying after all. Blood's everywhere
       and death's smell corrupts every surface.
       Fools party in the harbor and pay a price
       whitey never understands. Anger seethes
       in ghettos like a garden party in Riverside
       they curse the help for warm Champagne.
I pull the shade down and turn a blind eye
       to the city's darkness. No one even cares.
       It's hard to live in Baltimore anymore.
       We can't buy our way out. We do best we can.
       City's dying after all. Blood's everywhere
       and death's smell corrupts every street.
       Fools party in the harbor and pay a price
       whitey never understands. Anger seethes
       in ghettos like a garden party in Riverside
       where they curse the help for warm Champagne.
We siblings gathered for a last minute
  living on borrowed time. The eight originals
  in various stages of health in a grand hotel.
  In the harbor of Baltimore where seagulls
  keep looking for the ocean and the affluent
  fear the poor. We don't carry cash anymore.
  Patty. Jeanie. BJ. Kevin. Eileen. Terry.
  Bridget. Noreen. I write this as a love letter
  to my siblings as our sun's going down and
  we pass the living on to the next generation.
  We share war stories and our afflictions.
  We laugh at our past and wonder at tomorrows.
  We set aside our spats and hold dear our love.
We were young and beautiful.
     We tasted each other and feasted
     on our banquet. I smell you still
     and I'm 73 and you're beside me in
     bed in dreams that are more alive
     than my daily crawl toward death.
We were baptized in wars violence.
Friends blown up bless us in blood.
Flak blows dear friends to death as
we watch. We're angry and terrified.
We're at bat and bases are loaded.
We roll dice. We **** and **** us
fingers crossed will death get our
next door foxhole and we live on?
the bells ring
dangers begin
wages of sin
desires again
**** the nuns
burn the ones
set it in motion
a witch's potion
beyond our shore
a King's *****
an oath she swore
an eye for an eye
the innocents die
I barely live
day to day
hard to give
flesh to pay.
I'm barely alive.  My heart struggles to survive.
Madness has erupted and I no longer exist.
I feel like I've flat lined, but I still resist.
Where to look for hope? I listen for God's voice,

But I lost religion. I'm deaf to heaven's noise.  
Desire remains. What good will come of that?
I see a yellow moon rocking in the creek.
Wine on a lover's note a fetching watercolor.

We meet. Perfume, cologne, breath mints and *****.
Let's break all the rules! I must be home by 10.
A room. Naughty thrills. Suppressed guilt, ***!
Aftermath managed with pills and see you soon.
Is apathy
ever free
civil war
in the bar
drunks fight
for the right
take a stand
**** the band
bury the hate
never too late
bury our dead
drink instead.
Mail us c/o the Bar.
          We'll be sure to get it.
          Closest thing to family
          we've ever known.
          We're nervous wrecks
          self medicating staying
          steady as the Titanic.
          We cry in our beers
          confess all our sins
          drink our own tears.
I am a neon bar light
in a ***** window
keep the inmates happy
inside the down low.
OPEN for your pleasure
bar stools for lovers
imprints of their *****
drunken war brothers.
I've searched for this mirror forever.
Reflect my kindness. Show my brave heart
and good intentions. Make them all see
how much I meant my promises and vows
and my despair when I failed in weakness.
The world applauds me in the bar mirror.
We live hardscrabble lives.
  We own fierce tribal prides.
  We court at our barn dances.
  Music is magic love trances.
  Spiked punch gone to heads,
  we dance to our wedding beds.
Let's have beers and shots and
share metaphors and broke hearts
and write poems to bring tears and
laughter and bury the dead finally.
Barkeep, bring us similes and beers
to keep this wild madness alive.
We'll dedicate one to suffering wives
and suffering children and ourselves.
They'll always be some left to spare.
Poems cease at last call. We spill into
the streets and ***** in gutters and
stumble home to wives' stout threats.
Lets have beers and shots and
share metaphors and broke hearts
and write poems to bring tears and
laughter and bury the dead finally.
Barkeep, bring us similes and drinks
to keep this wild madness alive.
We'll dedicate one to suffering wives
and suffering children and ourselves.
There's always something for ourselves.
Poems cease at last call with periods.
Lets have beers and shots and
share metaphors and broke hearts
and write poems to bring tears and
laughter and bury the dead finally.
Barkeep, bring us similes and drinks
to keep this wild madness alive.
We'll dedicate one to suffering wives
and suffering children and ourselves.
There's always something for us.
Poems cease at last call with periods.
The whole **** thing was
splendid chaos. Nothing
went as planned.
Marriage was a farce and
kids chess pieces for lawyers.
We survived until we didn't.
All boozed up on Chardonnay,
   swapping virginity lost stories
   drinking from ***** straws and
   holding ****** as scepters while
   ropes of ***** crown our heads.
   We puke and cry and wear our
   hideous bridesmaid's dresses at
   the wedding and catch the bouquet
   and send the married couple off to
   a honeymoon in the ****** Islands.
All boozed up on Chardonnay,
   swapping virginity lost stories
   drinking from ***** straws and
   holding ****** as scepters while
   ropes of ***** crown our heads.
   We puke and cry and wear our
   hideous bridesmaid's dresses at
   the wedding and catch the bouquet
   and send the married couple off to
   a honeymoon in the ****** Islands.
We filled a bathtub with gin
then we drank it bone dry.
Next day we did it again.
You left and made me cry.
I run from madness every day.
It gets closer and I slow down.
I need it as it needs me.
It destroys the sun and moon
and stars and earth itself but
leaves me mad as a hatter from
Wonderland where I'll sleep
in a poppy field forever after.
A minute ago I walked for miles with
her in the stroller. She let me rest
at all the playgrounds with swings.
Snow falling on her face was the best.
I read her to sleep at bed time
and answered endless questions why
did the prince always kiss her awake
from endless sleep and she didn't die?
I told her I wouldn't always be here.
The white horses and ice palace melt.
You have to love yourself as much as
I do. Stand strong feel how we felt.
Men sweat. Woman bleed.
Both are beasts of burden
until their bodies coil as one
ready to strike cruel masters.
They float upon love's breeze
and feel no pain, just healed.
Falling in love is easy.
Riding a carousel in
the bed together until
full moon and fireworks
a wedding and a baby
and bills and we get fat
and forget how to laugh.
We want to make love or
even **** but these tired
beasts of burdens forget.
I need Aphrodite.
You need Hercules.
Falling in love is easy.
Riding a carousel in
the bed together until
full moon and fireworks
a wedding and a baby
and bills and we get fat
and forget how to laugh.
We want to make love or
even **** but these tired
beasts of burdens forget.
I need Aphrodite.
You need Hercules.
Beat Poets

  We're cool and we're hip.
  We're writing everything
  you wish you wrote before.
  We live in attics smoke ****
  and drink cheap wine. We bleed
  Howl and Ginsberg's other tears
  of Corso and Kerouac's seeds
  we Beats have our ***** needs.
The sun whispers me awake
from a dream with you naked
nowhere to be but make love
the whole day long. We call in sick.
Who needs the rest of the world
we have ourselves to ourselves.
For the most part I was never sane.
I was drunken numb to everything.
Power lines fell into your rain.
You deadly siren, your wires sing.
I needed to touch your flesh.
We were so alive and young.
I needed to taste your ***.
You're always on my tongue.
I'm lost into pieces
we share starry night
hearts ignite flames
look for love or flight.
Absinthe madness
troubled tongue
ending in sadness
no longer young.
Beauty cracks
old wax mask
wrinkled witch
taken to task.
Please don't shame me.
I beg you to tame me.
Trick the horrible *****
the black magic witch.
Dance me to the flame
warm without blame
happy endings again
dance me to lust's end.
Thanks to Leonard Cohen.
I still hear her whispered pleas
in poetry she wrote in need.
Abuse, excuse, forgive and live.
"I know the beast loves my beauty.
I just need to keep it perfect!
He purrs so lovely when he's sated."
she was a ******
from Kentucky
I loved her all
the more for it
white collar
blue collar
us and them
me and you
another dollar
for a mouth
to feed again
a luscious sin
we say I Do
a night or two.
Beauty turns tricks
at the Motel 6
to buy her fix
a magical mix
to keep her blind
and keep her mind.
She feeds her beast
to enjoy her feast.
Beauty turns tricks
at the Motel 6
to buy her fix
a magical mix
to keep her kind
and keep her mind.
She feeds her beast
to enjoy her feast.
I learned my ABC's and read the secrets.
  Words like puzzle pieces showed me truth's
  that Gods never thought we'd understand.
  I found poetry at world's darkest edge
  when flying too close to her boiling sun
  at midnight in my blind blank black heart.
  Ginsberg told of his generation's addiction
  crawling at dawn to find their needed fix
  what rough beasts, their hour comes due
  slouches towards our Bethlehem
  to deliver the final crucifixion.
I learned my ABC's and read the secrets.
  Words like puzzle pieces showed me truth's
  that Gods never thought we'd understand.
  I found poetry at world's darkest edge
  when flying too close to her boiling sun
  at midnight in my blind blank black heart.
  Ginsberg spoke his generation's addiction
  crawling at dawn to find their needed fix.
I learned my ABC's and read the secrets.
  Words like puzzle pieces showed me truth's
  that Gods never thought we'd understand.
  I found poetry at world's darkest edge
  when flying too close to her boiling sun
  at midnight in my blind blank black heart.
I'm just a clown
an idiotic frown
I wear your crown
I'm your king
that's the thing
wear my ring
let me in your gate
before it's too late
swallow the bait
we'll make a baby
raise her maybe
name her Bailey.
I've been out hunting souls.
I need to fill so many holes.
Sleep upon God's holy altar.
I'll spare the first daughter.
There must be someway out of here
   said the patient to the shrink.
   I can write a script for ******
   that might help you think.
   Give me your magic I said
   maybe I'll find another door.
   Don't be in such a hurry
   just be grateful for the floor.
   I'll need to see you often
   you're in a fragile mind.
   I'll write your script forever
   as long as you stay blind.
Black sabbath. We celebrate.
We bring our dead to a feast.
We all have questions and no
answers. Why did you? Was
she a lover? Am I adopted?
Did you ****** me? Am I ******?
I give you thorns
without the roses
loveless marriage
with baby carriage
we sleep apart
with dead heart.
It's naked time.
Be my valentine!
Ride subways to your job
go type at a plastic tube
wait for bosses to lob
demands and the KY ****.
Bring the ***** or tea
and the New York Times
offered on a bent knee
guilty of Pravda's crimes.
Careful or live in our hell
you will own nothing at all
at the bottom of a deep well
nobody will accept your call.
We were misfits
jokers in the deck
penny drifters in
the upper crust
pick pockets in any
crowd of swells
we went where
the sirens called
and crashed on rocks
but still live on.
Strings bent left and right
that touch me never touched.
Baptize me one last time as I
should have been before I
lost my way and found you
in a bar we found paradise.
Time warps are real,
God cheats, will steal
minutes become hours
night's stolen stars.
We live in sideshows
freaks nobody knows
the rules to follow.
It all seems shallow.
It's right or wrong.
It's weak or strong.
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