I see the head
Atop the mirror
Nine tails out of ten
An exhale through tram
Steam
Red ******* up the dining room
Stairs colored bread

Not here
Not now
Theft knows
Not the proud
I am in love with the words

Feel the fingers itch
In Wait as time
Tries to peck at my skin
Like the Raven to roadkill
Laughing underneath
Black winged' beak
I am what I was born to be
Forever/Always/Fortuned to be Miss-fortuned
Destiny rapping on the doors of uninformed
Creative Productivity
A conveyor belt for our sins
Best Seller's and wine mules

I yawn
So to breathe
Feeding a mind
Whose only wish
Is to live
To continue
And to fold out
The creases

Glass atop tables
Conversation infused
Beer stains old rumors
A nod so the needy smoke
Wafts of  Freudian mistakes
Make-up for the dollops
Of misplaced rouge bright red
Mahogany & jet black purple;

The lie is not the fault, but
The natural fear

Of truth.

All that I owe the fellows of the grave
And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates
Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood,
Like senna stirs along the ravaged roots.
O all I owe is all the flesh inherits,
My fathers' loves that pull upon my nerves,
My sisters tears that sing upon my head
My brothers' blood that salts my open wounds

Heir to the scalding veins that hold love's drop,
My fallen filled, that had the hint of death,
Heir to the telling senses that alone
Acquaint the flesh with a remembered itch,
I round this heritage as rounds the sun
His windy sky, and, as the candles moon,
Cast light upon my weather. I am heir
To women who have twisted their last smile,
To children who were suckled on a plague,
To young adorers dying on a kiss.
All such disease I doctor in my blood,
And all such love's a shrub sown in the breath.

Then look, my eyes, upon this bonehead fortune
And browse upon the postures of the dead;
All night and day I eye the ragged globe
Through periscopes rightsighted from the grave;
All night and day I wander in these same
Wax clothes that wax upon the aging ribs;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.
Then look, my heart, upon the scarlet trove,
And look, my grain, upon the falling wheat;
All night my fortune slumbers in its sheet.

I've never once felt loved
But I've been fortuned just enough
To belong among those few ones
Who've never once felt loved

I've never once captured a smile
But those many houses I've walked through
Thumbing mile after mile
They've never once captured anyone's smile

How do you sing a song
At three am
When candlelight monsters dance
And moonlight sunbeams pass
At three am
How do you hear the silence
In the thunder clouds screams
At three am
With a fragrance of desperation
Chimes of broken clocks sound
At three am
The northern factory haunts
The ghost of community laughs
At three am
Someone drinks in the past
Careless and fortuned

And there stood a lady with a mild-mannered eye,
Saying, "May those frost-bitten lips of other's die.
With their marred tongues of a dastardly word
Deep under influence their language is slurred."
And with a thought of imbued awe,
Beneath her pressing eyes I saw
And never again would I lay waste
To a poor fortuned tangle of delayed grace.

Shadows Surround that which should of never been
Darkness encompasses it whom had so much and lost it all
like a spear it struck into the heart of the father
and pierced him worse than any battle wound that could be mis fortuned
And yet he stood there and watched unable to reach out and touch the impure
only longing for the day in which he could once again hold him

Between the fractured minutes you spare,
Dare to mend the "have's" and "have not's"
Shrouded in sequence of doubt,
Attractive to solidarity

Sewn and trussed, composed
A patchwork marionette
Dances a laborious bore;
Yawning freckle of instance

Seen in different colors
Is the combusting stars;
The Leonis and jagged thread,
Hanging dead in the absolute

Fortuned are their frames
And the art, dulled beyond corners
One, alive in sound and vibrance
The other, roamed in the spoiled moor

I had cried out for home    
In the midst of all out wreckage  
An onslaught of bad days  
Bad people    
Bad things to do    
To good people    
To feed a bad habit    
    
There lay my bad seed soul on the filthy carpet    
I had rolled on it    
I had taken a nap on it    
And the polyester fibers    
Had attached themselves to my brain    
The pseudo soft mesh of red *****    
twisted into grey matter    
    
And I cried out for home    
God I believe    
And no words for him    
Aside from that thing    
In my tummy    
Wrenching that I needed him    
    
And to the alleys again    
Once more in the morning after    
I pulled myself up    
Sticky faced    
And mouth curved an OG grin    
With hip walk down lick street    
My lean serious    
My intent Ill    
The illest    
    
Then behind me sirens spin    
‘‘Twas the cop    
From the night before    
Or, the night of    
Whenever    
Or the day I    
And I probably did    
I don’t remember    
    
But he was sure of it    
And my wrists were soon tight with steel    
Key lock    
And pale faced feeling    
Drained to my knees the rest of me    
Slid into seat    
Customary head tuck    
And to county jail    
    
Booked in    
****** up    
Off grin    
I had been too tired    
To argue much that stripes and numbers were not my color    
    
I was going to stay a while    
A little vaca a go go    
Hell no you can’t leave    
But    
At last a place to really sleep    
And eat    
(Insert here any form of gelatinous ooze)    
    
And just to break the serious monotonous    
Time......    
....................(you cannot imagine what whir lies between those kind of) ........ticks....    
    
I found my hustle    
  
For a beautifully    
Artfully    
Passionately rendered Madonna and child I did for a stud broad    
She traded me three e gig filters    
(I shoved up my *******)    
Aughhh...    
“nicotine baby, hadn’t seen you in a while.”    
    
And I considered this    
And I asked why    
She had fortuned my ****** with this wealth    
    
A big woman they called Squirrel    
Who had sported stripes on the daily    
And would be for 15 plus more years    
Said to me    
“Because I need to make these grey walls home.”    
She stuck up the Madonna    
With toothpaste and spit    
And sat down to pray    
    
And here’s the thing    
About God    
And    
About stud broads called Squirrel    
Both have quite the surprising answers    
To questions    
You ask    
Or prayers you did not know you’d cried out    
    
Prayers like    
I want to go home    
  
And big bad women    
With our lady of perpetual hope    
Lightening the dark of their eye    
Show you how to make it

I am ire
In the land of wrath
And I smile emptiness
On your behalf

I linger, soulless
In the grass
Overgrown
and under pathed
In terror, peril
Paralyzed
I reap the fortuned
And dole demise

I am nature
Cruel and empty
I once was full
But you reject me

I am every sin you've casted
To the wind, now everlasting
I am the dark you dread
I am flagrance, and the dead

underneath the fascinating cosmos
lies a fortuned ambidextrous
wisdom and beauty was her true color and fragrance
that love entered at first glance

the nights were filled with genuine happiness and glories
exchanging smiles with never-ending stories
with the future unknown, uncertain
she still clothed herself with honesty and courage, without mentioning the bargain

as we journey upon the mysteries of time
a discovery was later on tuned and rhymed
alas! it was her life-changing crescendo
not realising what im supposed to do

in the middle of our cursed age
comes an inevitable stage
realising that the days of our youth
will only worsen the pain, not soothe, the rage

declaring the promise of a lifetime
where we first met
to be plucked in the first sunshine
was also carried with uncertain regret

as time ruled our minds
she stood still and made the highest climb
but it turns out she was for another heights
fighting the unknown, searching throughout the darkest nights

despite the dangers of space
she still managed to trace
what she's really made for
and what is the right door

but images seem to darken and starts to distort
feelings loosen, still unchained by love's strong cord
trying to see what's really behind the crack
she still flew and never came back...