Some truths are told in anger,
Some truths are told in vain,
Sometimes there’s value in candor,
Sometimes truth just causes pain.

Some truths told aren’t told on purpose,
Some come out without consent,
Some when told do a great disservice,
No matter how honorable their intent.

Some truths are never told,
Away in drawers they’re kept,
Things gilded still shine like lustrous gold,
And dry are tears long wept.

I once had a truth I tried to speak,
But it was spoken by another prematurely,
I saw it happen, my voice was weak,
I handled it like a child and far too immaturely.

What was exposed could not be taken back,
It was a point of no return,
I was indignant, it all turned black,
I wanted the world to burn.

And burn it did,
But only mine,
Down hard I slid,
The real world was fine.

With time gone by, I must admit a lesson I learned,
The truth really does set you free,
But to whom my truth concerned,
I can only apologize, it should’ve come from me.

Stupidly stuck,
Waiting, while
Past pressures
Present problems,
Making moving
On awful.
Essentially erased
From fraudulent
Thoughts that
Hurt. How
Our original
Love lives
Were wronged
By bad
Decisions decided
Immaturely. Intimacy
Died down
And, alone,
Rejected, retreated

connected by nothing
speaking to no one
time passing through itself
folding in on itself
Allowing oneself to breathe
Allowing oneself to let go
Allowing oneself to admit
that they will never fully no
the magazines that have been read
have been burning all this time
the drinks have been drunk
the drunks in their tanks
people asleep
are now awake
form is no friend
of
mine
i asked her out
she bought
expensive wine
whispers shivered naked across the cambridge lawn
i fell in love
with a damp and sullen log
connected
disconnected
in love
out of love
we are are different every minute
every second
thoughts that were once there
are there again
but in a different way
no mind has seen itself in the mirror
and it never will
as the bee buzzes
wings press themselves desperately, immaturely
forever in mourning
sour **** forlorn & burning
so you said I was crazy?
and then what did you do?
I cast a net into a white sea when no one was looking
and cried the rest of the day
because I knew to be understood
was to die all over again
only to be born again
in a world
where nonsense is the norm
and normal
is obscene & fat
and full of goose's wearing rose colored hats of hate
where broken bats blink blindly in deep caves
forgotten terraces where lover's broke themselves
in sand dune dixie cups illiterate unfortunates
whining wino's wish they were richer
and teacher's that fell in love
with knee capped teenage blisters
pencil pusher's punish themselves
for a lack of ill received love funds
Molly H. laughs like a fairy in a tale we all know
and we see coffee sprouts
while women cry in full pout
out of control
our world and out of it
the glimmer of a women's eye
is a man's only true prize
dazed in a haze of lack luster filibuster
a man released
is a man soon to be in death's seat
for the moon is nothing but a sliver of white light
when you sit alone on a dark black beach
with lapping waves, mind in full craze
and a conversation and corruption of love's maze
could it be?
could I see?
what it feels like to believe in life's magic tragicness
where fashion is to be naked
and nakedness is to die and be replaced by the computer
our own demise
was the mind's first ideal prize
dead from the beginning
solitude and a prize for 1st but never winning
tell grandma in spanish that I loved her
i see her face smiling, tired, and dead
i wish i could have seen her wed
but i wasn't there
i was gone
somewhere else saying i don't belong here
i don't see the sky
i don't see the waves
i don't believe in a truth seer's eyes
im not believing in me, I'm not believing in anyone
i see the sun, i see the fun, i see a fat ladies buns
but then i know i ain't around for the after party
or the after after party
i just see the rhythm in the earth
faster then i can see someone else pouring their milk
and the smile a woman you never met
but you know you've seen her before
the flick of a lip ring
the sing of a sing song ping
where the pong is fast then the ping
yeah you know about the last thing?
but wait
we've been waiting for so long for you baby
and i tell'er that were almost there
the sky ain't the limit and the limit ain't the ticket
where the neighbor says theirs trouble
but then when i think about it
i can't quickly say
but i know i'll leave and i don't know if I'll love again
or be jealous again
or hate again
or laugh again
but i tread through the hate, the seeds of black dust
the orange blossoms that come every day, every month
i carry on for the word not for myself
i ain't a martyr, i was never a good starter
for the milk man does his work
and the writer writes his words
and the roads are paved
and the teacher's teach the little one's
how to behave
but me
i didn't get much schooling
i was too busy fooling
with the back road marquees of a movie theatre
that was never meant to be
and i watched throughout the night
wonderin' to myself
how i got into this mess and who's fault was it
but it wasn't anyone's fault
just a miss hap, a hoax
so take no naps till day break
why can't some people take a joke?

L
  e
T'sD
         oTonight
             hard. we'll finger ginger prematurely. immaturely. and
offended glossy cheeks. the fair legs, forever apart, the night's
begging panting heaving & yes let's
                                                          o­D
                                                         2
                                                       nite
                                       impossibly posing
                                     prosing nosing (it smells red
                               and neon). guns are our bones.
                             sensibly obscure the daft incommensurable
                           s,m'og O' inside the pooch, the slumping curve
                         the curbs and dancing, the jostling snort
                        of brain's panes behind them saying just faces.
                        unchaste faces. a multitudinous saliva teeming
                         young wagging hems lifted with my fingers
                          going under your cotton and right up
                            to your "'yes'" Y
                                                        3
     ­                                                 s!

Young girl, wrinkled heart immaturely aged. Your wine is too sweet and your self confidence weak. You reak of naivety and romanticized happy endings. But the only thing ending is you. Did the world let you down once again, or was it just your blind hope that got the better of you? Did the false promises and the forgotten love-struck glances fool you? Is that why you're so mean and your eyes gleam with watered down love for a boy who was merely just a ploy in your moments so wrapped up in joy, that you didn't see it? You didn't see the lies for what they were. I don't blame you, sweet child, for they were so perfectly polished with 'good intentions' and contradicting sentences. You looked at him and you felt nothing less than the universe in your chest, but let me tell you, even his best will always be mediocre for you. Did the forgotten roses, wilted and pale on your windowsill make you believe that dead things can still prosper? I am sorry but it's time to realize that even though broken things are beautiful to look at, they will never grow and the cracks they show only allow more room for pain to seep in. I am telling you now, strong girl - leave it. New flowers bloom for you just outside the window and they are so sweet and they want to give just as much love as you do, if not even more. Leave him. He is not the soul you're meant to hold for all of time and he definitely doesn't deserve a second more of yours. Do the cigarettes and the open ended texts burn your tongue girl? Well good, that's what they're made for. If it hurts, it was intentional. If your hands shake whenever you wake because you had another dream where his love washed you clean, then push those dreams aside my love. They are nightmares now and the memories are sweet but your sheets lack the heat that his arms once promised. He promised but he didn't understand that you are the type to swallow words and hold his actions up to the light when they don't reciprocate what he claimed you two could make. You can make the world bold without his hand to hold and you can make it on your own, for your heart is your home. And no one else's.

Stearic Acid*

Out of your mouth came
the good intentions,
out of your deeds,
you were a contradiction,
with contrasting actions.
Such a contradiction of a girl,
such a faker up front.
Don't deny that you would speak
when I was absent,
don't deny that you couldn't
even be happy because
all you knew how to be was
immaturely jealous.
You lured me in with that
saccharine smile and the embraces,
but you pushed me away
with the contents of
your foul mouth.

I’ve been looking for love in temporary places where it can’t be found
Looking for that loyalty with one night stands that couldn’t hold me down
Love making all over the bedroom except the one place where it should be
Falling for the same temptation that I hoped wouldn’t catch me
Charming whoever falls for it knowing what we have won’t last long
Walking away after making love knowing it’s not where my heart belongs
Making love to you vs them is different when it’s passionate between us
I’m doing all this casual hookups knowing your heart breaking is my weakness
For the longest, I’ve been blind by the temptations of love that I ignored
The main one that my heart became attached to adored
*** Ain’t Better Than Love but I needed to feel the void of being alone
Knowing that I was out there by myself & wasn’t ready to establish a home
A boy can’t be a man when he’s too busy still trying to live immaturely
Seeking something pleasuring yet short lived cause he hasn’t learned to love fully
Not sure what the objective was but no source of happiness was discovered
Thought I was looking out for myself when in reality, my heart’s the one that suffered
I guess one must be foolish before he realizes when a true love isn’t present
Making all the right mistakes before he starts to truly miss the perfect blessing
I’ve been sexually attached to a few but there’s nothing like falling for what’s yours
Knowing that the greatest feeling in the world is the love that’s made to be just for you

                                               - Pencasso

cracks me up
this erroneous error message,
looks at me and states authoritatively
nuh-uh, buddy, “it ain’t you you babe,
it ain’t you we looking for babe”

makes me crazy crying
copiously betw snorting fits of
eloquent derision

why oh why

is it daily savings time prematurely
(immaturely) aging me,
be it advancing decrepitude
or just the AI’s sullen attitude?

be it a secret messaging that my
mother’s slow descent into
senility, loss of speech is now me-
visible to the all seeing eyes on
a dollar bill, & or the iPhone genie?

this erroneous messaging appears
with an irregularity regular, just
enough to make me think that

this
       is
           not
                  accidental

come to nyC,
come me to see,
need an independent  
judgement  summary
please
before the winter pale overcomes my
poetic resistance and they park me
in the backyard, where I can sit yet,
studying for multiple hours
the river-fed bay on its way
to the vastness of the Atlantic
Ocean, where the water will combine.
all cells of each of our selected
those chosen body’s of water,
bodies now interring,
while populating
intermingling
taking stingling diatoms from
of each, they will kiss, greet, each other,
with the clarity of recognition that our
poetry has already bonded us in ways that are irrefutable, been coming long time
geological formations new and old,
still forces unstoppable foreseeing
every, every ever