"fishlike" poems
III
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
Peleus on Thetis stares.
Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,
Love has blinded him with tears;
But Thetis' belly listens.
Down the mountain walls
From where pan's cavern is
Intolerable music falls.
Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,
Belly, shoulder, ***
Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrs
Copulate in the foam.
7.4k
my life is beautiful, not realistic.
yesterday, i arrived on neptune
wearing big boots and dignity
the horizon was a nightmare of question marks
and gloomy witches;
i escaped from the religious enema and
pegged a choir boy on my way out.
i am no longer a pygmy goat on a foolish leash,
i take my paranoia seriously.
my journals guide me to a ruptured corpse,
never censored.
i have the ability to be given away on a whim,
but i am becoming a famous soldier, an intoxicating
ghost of dogma.
my dreams are beautiful, not realistic.
hallelujah, the hobos are wearing bathrobes,
the ****** pillheads are anointed with ****** and sewer cleaners.
i see a goblin grave advertised by
luscious lips and fishlike shoulders.
the texture of my dream is kaleidoscope and silver,
haunted by a fat sherriff who cuts the throat of the jukebox queen.
i have a personal god, and on her i bestow this passionate kiss,
i have a favorite enemy, with no goals and without ambition.
im sorry, i don't know any happy songs,
only the movement of her young sensitive thighs and
a nymph with an hourly rate.
i am a buffoon with a blugeoned harmonica and
weapons of sugar.
my life is beautiful, not realistic.
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 11:23 PM UTC
Nervous?
No.
Okay, maybe a little
I'm so nervous
Voices crescendo in my ear
Audible to the fishlike audience
But all that matters is the people around me
We're all a pack of wolves
Out for one thing
victory
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
Inside, Your cancer's beating heart
My ******* shakes, dirt dust gone
I swipe the sand away. For every ounce of ****
Laughing out meaty red raw steaks and size zero thighs.
- For everythingsobad. You rattle my dream box with your sweet blue face and your gauges for neither being an idiot or being human. Too cute of you booboo. Captivity claws at you, you big bafoon, intolerant, shuffling your predicates back and forth during your 12am nonsensical ******** So long as it doesn't interfere with your curfew.
Like soggy altered-state popcorn. Your butter catches more flies than knives, the inauthentic gestures spattering over the rhythms and rolls of your fingertips is torture to watch. Kitchen countertop influenza. A tired dictionary of sad words, poor misfortunes, tired eyelids, silty and sandy crusty inside corners of the eyes
.rearing privilege
countertop crawlers. inaudible coos used by muses who can't keep their musings from tangling the long distance dial tone soaring through the ears like an Italian operatic melodrama. A horse, three brides, and a funeral. One woman, a sick child, blindness, blinding caused by toxins of the body stuck inside your gelatinous fishlike eyelids. Where's there an eye bib and a lance when you need one? A nifty electric toothbrush shank with extra reach and plaque protection. You're the kitchen sink they threw in, a budget meeting with a data analysis staph infection. A government where nobody wins. All the kids grow up with thin skin and an aorta with no ventricles in it. It's like the cynical prison system that we had to survive in our 8th grade basement dungeon. Thundering, curmudgeons drugging sluggishly, **** teen thugs. Preteen pornstars sluicing cash through their meaty canals, ******* the ******** and ******* the back bare in a messy afternoon of **** ******* Crusty infectious rumors made worse by brothers and moms, eating handfuls of Norco just to keep the family strong.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
No measure of hours,
day in, day out
cold fingers of mold damp
********* my nostrils
in cryptic drafts;
icy floor, ruthless
corpse-like and spongy
beneath my bare and distant feet.
Ghosts and apparitions
come in, go out,
visiting me, strangely urgent
mouths flapping fishlike
with alien sounds;
distorted humanities in
faces, groping for me;
less than the ticking of my heart
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
FEATHERS.
Every blink in brain-
Goes by a separate name,
All song you speak-
The lies spark leak.
Each time you find you're lost again-
Blink twice to find yourself back but then,
A shaken mind that breaks won't mend-
Broke is shattered to no end.
I thought The Curse was hex of past-
It boomerung to strike so fast,
Escape deceits the very sights-
The vision we call the optical lights.
The undertow's relentless force-
Riptide begins a taunting coerce,
A labyrinth captivated the very one-
One to whom the war was yet won.
Spinning cycles before the eyes-
Again/Again/Again/ time flies,
Seconds come days to years-
Time heals all but scars and tears.
Burning cry upon the skin-
Inception of the sin,
Memories in discolored tissue-
Each notes a different break in you.
I'm alone on this road I tread-
Heart departs a ****** trail of dead,
A gruesome horrid thought in plan-
Lost and broken dysfunctional man.
This never was a thing to pride-
It minds not to the tongue that lied,
The score it counts against the clock-
The key forever without a lock.
I can't explain at all this speech-
Engraved in stone beyond my reach,
Fear/Fret/Fault/Freak/Forevermore-
Need not one encounter this wretched lore.
Crimson fires burn eternal-
The thought live and breathe nocturnal,
Bloodshot veins throb continuum-
Mind now trapped in cold dark slum.
What differs ink and blood drop stain?
For parted by the pen and vein.
Which bird defines the silent din?
The jet-black wings of the Raven.
Centimeter by inch the basin fills,
The uselessness of fishlike gills,
Drowning in one's own despair,
Masked by average breath and flare.
One by one they drop from the sky,
Like fallen angels and soldiers die,
Busted wings and battered by-
The sounds of screech and rusted try.
Nothing stops the scream of fear,
The blood curdled wrenching leer,
A ghostly ship that sails in air,
Words the run the bones all bare.
Nothing ends the thoughts that stay,
Nothing keeps the sound away,
Nothing breaks the bashing blow,
Nothing ends this damaged flow...
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
His gutting of me,
fishlike
a hook at the end of his finger
(curling)
& me
bare skinned at
his knees
the nakedness of
a child
innocent lines
& curves of
flesh. My
gapping thighs
withered
beyond the
cure of ***
& tone
death girls
place shells
to their ears
to hear the
roar of the
sea. A mighty
whitewashed
wave crashing
against the
shore
& in that
moment I
am shaking
on the end
of a line
at the
mercy of
the devouring
hands of
a man
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC