Sometimes we run
into the arms of a terrible person
just trying to escape a broken heart
because loneliness has been known
to taste like warm whiskey,
parliament lights and the kiss
of a lack luster lover who spent more time
trying to lie you between the covers
than they did learning to say your name
out loud, you know the type.
I'd be lying too if I didn't say
I've been that kind, that tall glass of water
promising to dampen a dry tongue
which ain't got the courage to say I'm sorry,
not to nobody else but to themselves.

So I want apologize for not seeing
or perhaps ignoring how crushed you were
when I rolled you up in my arms
the way hikers do sleeping bags
and I held you in my lap
because the car was packed
and I didn't know where else to put you.
You must have felt safe there
thinking you were the place
for me to lay my head on this road trip
we call life, but little did you know
had the trunk not been full
I would have been sitting alone
face aglow from my cellular phone
texting other women,
probably with a smile.

I am here to tell you, you deserve better
and I don't want you ever settle
for anything less than a lover's embrace
because comfort plus time
equals unease on your mind.
Worrying whether this companion of yours
has become a stone tied to your heart
with a heavy rope and its tugging you down
into the dark blue depths
filling your lungs with ice cold seawater
with every last breath.

I want you to be with someone
you can chase for the rest of your life
and when you get tired of swimming
they won't leave you treading,
chumming shark infested waters
with blood from a poorly stitched heart
but they will follow and follow
until you both find that deserted island,
that paradise you promised one another.

Thank fearless love for a passionate life.
Throttles charge the gallows as if oddly shaped feet pour over mountains
There are things, the things no one has thought of before
Thin, thick, the golden gate plays games, give way to distrusting forgiveness
Thrusting and diving, trusting the knifing thief
Thoughts and dreams, whispers and spit
Through mediums and *******
Thinking, inking, chumming, coming
Thumbs are an evolutionary error
The taste of him, tactical and scared, afraid of the ensnared
Thrilling and drilling the president, he’s drowning in his will to represent
Threads rip at the sight of wrong and rotten thicks of ruin
Thistles lump near the top, swinging while ticks sway and swoon
Throw candles, lit fireflies, halt the stop watch knowing desire as we die
Throats bleach with boiling bills, and melodiously drown in melancholy ornaments
Theories prove insane is a thorough man with an open book of blank pages
Thwarting covers, nobody remembers, none have known his face
Thrifty as he is, they thrive on his peace and resistance
Thirty thousand cherries dropping at once, an atomic bomb
Threatening the fictitious fruit and depriving them of their dairy-free dreamscapes  
Thirsty Thursday looks at ******* Friday with a fringe of fear and inevitable fate
This feeling strives for a piece of an idea
Those thinkers, sultry like lively lace purple violet lilacs
Throttle sticks like lit dynamite to the corpses of conscious cornucopia
Thirsting crooked thatches croon about WD40, singing of slippery songs
Thespian facades, escapades and escapes, long catharsis reaction
Thumping metallic beats, drum the dents in my souls
Thermal conspiracy, heating the eggs equally hard boiled
Thin trees fragile nuances manifesting smoldering adolescent passion
Themed leaves seize Victoria’s secrets, branches boast their bulimia
Thorns are for foreign foliage fornication, induced by important imbeciles
Thumps will free theatre floors’ footsteps, and yawn gouging groans between the cracks
Thugs wail woes, worries and warts, sailors chug the tailored mug
Thongs, *** cracks and crackerjacks, sweet till the sweaty end
Thaw the swallows nest, waking feathers from their preening and unrest

Bodies bend, break, sink in the tide.
Everlasting tides that pull
Drag those like us under the water.
The cuttlefish watch
Bubbles surface, blue water, red water.
Light from the failing sun burns on the sea,
Clouds forming acrobat troupes
Burning
red, gold, orange.
The water is calm and quiet
Beats the stones into eventual sands.
Silent waves wrap
Twist snakes of currents around ankles
Pull
Pull
Until they fall
Join the sea.
Water in lungs, swinging low in the chest
Chests opened by stones cut by the floods.
Chumming the water
Drowning
Lost at sea and revived as sirens.
Blood on the water burns in the light.
The reflections make seeing hurt,
Almost as much as watching the sun die.

the cat inhabits the kitchen chair
  glibly being   a warm and spread pat
as my seat is taken      i am stood
  weight shifting   between pained legs
    taking in my breakfast   like medicine
chumming it down
  addressing none of its flavours or ‘mouthfeel’

a man passes the window
uncreased  in a deceased business suit
yet   bunched into himself under a brolly

it's not raining
      but   it was  most-likely  forecast on his cellphone

strange human behaviour…

i note my own
and remove the somnolent cat
to take my seat at the table

Beauty around
Peace I've found
Spring at its best
An all new zest

Oh life...
I am falling in love with you

Colors sprinkled
Artistically mingled
Heart merrily sings
Mood's upward swings

Oh life...
I am falling in love with you

The glacier of frozen desire
Melting in solar fire
The warmth is soothing
The tenderness oozing

Oh life...
I am falling in love with you

Bumblebees are humming
Right on the buds, chumming
The rivers are calm
Nature plays a balm


Oh life...
I am falling in love with you

Koel birds are singing
On the branch of Palash, swinging
The heart plays encore
For love opens it's door

Oh life...
I am falling in love with you

Rumor has it Sir Walter Raleigh
Is on the chase once more
An expedition of sinking ships
Braziers burning fast upon the shore

Chumming with time's blood
Panning for fool's gold
Wave after wave of repercussion
The future so willfully sold

For one bowl of soup
Like Esau famished from the hunt
Turning to his artful brother
And offering him the forefront

Our crowned jewel in all her tattered
Finery cleaved to the heart
The fabled city forsook
By once trusted hands tearing her apart

Set out the coffins
Sing for us an elegy
In the surf of this funeral march
Be sure to separate corpses from algae

I'd tell you about me
but then you would stare
like I grew a second head

Then I’d feel ashamed
and draw back inside
or tear out your eyes!

You wouldn't see
You couldn't see
that it was still me

You'd club me with your book
give me ***** looks
and hate me for what I am!

I'd suffer tears in pain
deep inside my brain
and every day it would rain!

So I'll stay inside myself
living on this shelf
Leaving my feet
in this water
chumming for sharks!

You're all just probably sharks

Teeth

Meat grinders of people
and my feet…

My feet are
made of concrete
and I'll kick in your teeth
when they grit on me…

When he’s not sexually assaulting women,
Insulting war heroes, the disabled,
Veterans, Gold Star families

When he’s not hoarding
Classified documents, cheating contractors,
Hiring illegal immigrants, stiffing employees,
Kowtowing to dictators, chumming around
With Jeffrey Epstein and lusting after young girls
Who remind him of Ivanka at age thirteen

When he’s not committing tax fraud,
Filing for bankruptcy, peddling nuclear secrets,
Mocking evangelicals, threatening election workers
And his own vice president

When he’s not promising to build a border wall,
Selling products made in China,
Using campaign funds to pay his lawyers,
Conning his supporters into buying worthless
University degrees or contributing to his bogus
Charity foundation

When he’s not losing money hand over fist,
Packing the Supreme Court
Or trying to destroy the democracy,
I kind of like that little two-****** dance
Trump does at his campaign stops—

It’s kind of amusing

Dan Dan Noodles slipping over a gaijin fork-tine at lunchtime
glooped in brown broth, glistening below the wriggle
of a first bite in a $200 suit,,. at a trending Cafe.
Car fumes dangling like phone fobs, simmer in the absolute workday.
chumming the swirl of our cataracts with the blood of our Dreams.
With the sun screaming at the pavement
where we march to our far away…
like slumbernauts rummaging through snowflakes and notifications.
little bells that ring when a space between words needs a thought to stop a train
with an Ad for ******.
Culling the heard.

there is no fortress in the sun save the rain in your heart
and the alabaster reprisals of every comet in your dome
chumming the benthic oblivion with chew toys
and pond **** nailed to a rainbow.
there is no surface to breach. only the deep deep
and the overarching unspoken.
the free stars of bold silence
holding its breath like a poncho
holding the rain at bay.

toenails in the dark, shuffling in cotton skullies, where the suns park-
on thin dimes… as golden as poached domes in amethyst
where the Royal “ WE” is a scarecrow made of consumption
stitching the wherewithal of an Answer
to an improbable Guess.

we fidget and split the pith of our varmint stars
to within an ounce of Plausible. Gobsmacked in the actual.
chumming thunder with too many rays of delirium.
husking germs at our Diaspora.
cast as an open wounded
conversation.
conversating in a
Vacuum.

like teen angst on a scrimshaw barstool
made of absolute
demise.