Because,

He fell for the red on her cigarette,
Her breath on floating dandelions,

The eyelash on her cheek,
The stretchmarks on her thighs,

The little hairs on her belly,
The way her eyebrows don't perfectly match,

The way she loved dogs more than children,
The way she stares at tree leaves swaying.

He fell for her as a whole
Not the way others had before,

And she, did not care.
She constantly fell in the sea

Of arms, that has haunted
Since her eyes began to see lust.

Drowning endlessly,
Knowing he would send her a lifeboat.

abandon ship, this ***** sinking!
why? captain goes down too...
so man your stations at the lifeboats
its a long swim home
kiss those lips like you're new favorite drug
**** stick and party favors
take another hit babe...it doesn't matter
the world'll stop if only an hour
come back! quit shaking, oh GOD you're not dead!
come on baby wake up! please GOD! come back!
i know you're shaking babe please stop
you scare me
we'll get help baby i promise
i swear
i knew this would happen its always the same
i was there first; now we're both trapped in this hell
do you remember what it felt like to have to have it
that burn in your gut
hands shaking still?
its been years for me too...
we're all poisoned
we're all dead
we all sing
its all dread
you're so crazy

why doesn’t english phoneticism diacritic the non-trill r, or why doesn’t it diacritic the non-harking h? i wonder... where’s all the nation’s intelligence gone to... investing 650 billion in the ant mound that’s london? the politics blame it on the eastern european... ‘never blame it on the chinese or the arabs... they have the investments to come with boom & bust coordinates of new york’s 1920s hopes... followed up with depression.’ but oddly enough no recession in poland... perhaps because the poles have all the salt and lost all the dollars’ worth of edible mince pie (while the irish only lost ***** in hazelnut hangover forgetfulness on the titanic minding the class system of who got the lifeboats) - **** me, i’ve turned into a welsh longbows’ man with the famous V of agincourt... i’m not even welsh... but i’m assuredly an abacus: count to two sheep flights of suicide and towing two snorkel sneezes worth of bubbles before dozing off; ah... the celebrated humanity.*

that’s how it works... the r that lost the wheel and the ballerina twirl,
and the rolling-on requirements of a diacritic mark,
since all the available ones are inadequate,
and the h needs surgery to be honest...
it’s hardly a hay stack... as is the gnome eager to learn
about gnosticism and u-boats...
but did i tell you this one story that might
make you laugh?
in my post brain haemorrhage psychosis
i bought a martin & co. acoustic guitar for £600
while trading in a mandolin i bought cleaning toilets
in an edinburgh nightclub getting more than i expected
from a **** groper... sold for £25 second hand which i didn’t take
and just left it there due to honour
(who'd empty ****** in beer bottles from a toilet
getting harassed by a gay
in order to buy a £70 mandolin to play
only one song and then sell it for £25 and take the money?!)...
no, really, the english r needs diacritic markings
to distinguish it from the other european arms and arses
fidgety.
so this martin & co.’s guitar i bought
and took to my ex-girlfriends house...
which i left outside... and... oddly enough
in a guitar sheath the guitar suddenly spontaneously
decided to itch and break up...
my ex-girlfriend’s father said the cold did it...
he was always the handyman to break things...
then i started to head-**** the guitar until i managed
to weave a hole in it to sound more hollow...
so i fixed it in the end... a blind man could play it...
my ex-girlfriend’s father ended up as a nutcracker in
the mental health unit for a month while
england rejoiced when the pantomime season came along
in the local theatres - plates were thrown and dogs were walked...
like tonight... me in cognitive conversation:
‘hey stranger’s dog across the street, why you pausing
tail waggling and pavlov ready for a treat
and trying to imbue a french revolution’s cause off the leash?’
religiously you're reversing the due pundit of prayer
for the thing suffering... christianity almost feeds
the notion of prayer unto the continually suffering...
you wouldn't see prayer so easily given to
zeus ******* hera on the chair... would you?
pathetic, even morbid perverts of poverty
******* out the blood from the man...
if he deserved it he deserved it... it's not so easily
grecian polished into the realm of the undeserved...
the classical philosopher inquired: the gods exist...
but why are you sacrificing animals for their existence?
the modern philosophers inquired: the god exists...
but why are you sacrificing your emotions for their existence?
i will not sacrifice a goat on the altar...
but that was easier given the fact you're feeling
such sibyl s & m with that thing dangling on two planks of wood;
didn't i write of the malachi heresy...
the heresy that invaded monotheism and said
john smith postcode *** *** from the 21st century
will always be john smith from london from the 16th century?
malachi's heresy concerning the reincarnation of elijah
decisively spoke of the fractioned hebrew god... it spoke of 1
as 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1/5, 1/6, 1/7, 1/8, 1/9 etc.
i can't believe that... like hegel equated in
the book marx digested and rebelled against, i = i,
malachi you propagator & instigator of christianity and islam!
malachi! to the greeks & romans with you tied to st. paul!
(even allen ginsberg mentions this equation
in one of his poems: i am i, old father fisheye that
begat the ocean, the worm at my own ear,
the serpent turning around a tree;
kant and 0 as negation, hegel and the equals sign as being,
naturally ≠ has to imply non-being);
not building idols of forearm and knee for worship is what islam
got away with replacing them with the worship of words...
i'd hate to worship that night idol dictated by a man
who couldn't read... it's almost like a crow hunching
next to a statue of ramses ii about
where r a m s e s trivialised the six pack of the abdomen
there were the letters r a m s e s without definite form
to concern the suckling of favourite idol mantras...
idol holy word hum hum ham ahead of you...
thou shalt knot the casual reference of muhammad
in the corner shop for thou shalt not offend
the goosebumps sensation i feel when i hear the sounds...
MAKE THEE **** A HOLY **** WORDED & WORSHIPPED!
ARSES IN THE AIR GENTS... WE'RE GOING TO HAVANAH!
and so it was... the only fear of death i have
is to have lived to being aged 72... and then died;
death sooner... death... sooner!
my parents die i'm moving to the true england, up north,
to liverpool or manchester... **** the southern fairies
from dubai... i rather move to the faroe islands to be honest...
and **** a dozen orcas for a fry-up and the digestion of winter...
i rather **** time occupying the space in greenland
among the icy chinese known as eskimos;
i'd fit in among the føroyar kindreds... i love the doom & gloom
and hate the sun & tan of globalisation's adventures
with advertisements and juggling tourism
among terrorism's fictive narratives.

FROM WHITE STAR OLYMPIC
TO MARCONI STATION NEW YORK

BREAKING NEWS STOP
TITANIC FLOUNDERED AT SEA
AWAIT FURTHER MESSAGE STOP
DISTRESS SIGNAL SENT C Q D

CARPATHIA FIRST ON SCENE
STOP LIFEBOATS AND WRECKAGE
TITANIC NOWHERE TO BE SEEN
STOP AWAIT FURTHER MESSAGE

TOO FEW LIFEBOATS STOP
TOO FEW SURVIVORS WE SEE
TOO FEW MEN IN LIFEBOATS STOP
THEY FOLLOWED THE RULE OF THE SEA

STOP END OF MESSAGE

END OF TRANSMISSION

“Business as usual” prophesied
by sombre faces with panic stricken eyes

Whispers of crooked plans
cultivated behind closed doors

Loyalty called upon from the poor few
that know the muffled truths
while honey coated promises blinds the rest

The innocent to be sacrificed
to spare the tragedy from the rich

Who is safely nestled on their lifeboats
while watching the ship sink

Life is a shipwreck but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats

Golden sand tickling your toes
Pebbles gleaming, glistening, slushing
When the tide comes  back  to shore.
Sand dunes hiding wildlife,
Multitudes of migratory birds,
Safely returning every year to
This beautiful, marshy paradise.
Skies so orange, pink and red,
An artists palette of natural art
Greet you at sunrise and sunset.
*****, kippers, cod and plaice
Shrimps, cockles and whelks,
Mushy, minty peas and chips,
The show at the end of the pier.
The lifeboats and their hardy crew
Risking their lives to save others,
When visitors run into trouble
At the mercy of the cold North Sea.
Crumbling coastlines, cliff walks
And nature reserves full of the
Scent of wild garlic and herbs,
Norfolk lavender. Steam engines,
Fishing boats, river boats,
Paddling boats and cycles
Take you on journeys
Around the Broads or
Past the famous Castles.
Tigers and leopards peer
Through the bars of their
Zoo homes by the sea.
Easterly winds that bite your
Fingers as they whistle and
Howl through the City.
Guest houses closed for
The winter as you stroll
The lonely promenades
Breathing in the air.
Queen Bodicea,  Normans,
Vikings and Romans all
Marched through this
Historical  landscape
And yet we remain
Stalwart and strong
Proud of our heritage,
Our roots,  our birthplace
There's only one place
Better than Norfolk,
And that's the
Beautiful Ozarks.

My world changed.
Now. I. am.
Dis- inherit.

More like the unwanted
guest,
in
a party for yourself.

That un wanted
is always
you.

Banners can say your name.
One thousand times.
Screaming.

Out of skyscrapers, bungee jumping
from space shuttles.

Saltating, from your inner
lung meat.
Banners, with names, can only spittle lies.

Now unwanted I wanna leave,
get out,
only 3 more miserly months
of a kingdom of intellectual
gods and tzars.
screaming my party name,
but I.
I.
gone.


I am sitting
While I'm grieving
and admitting in my seat
clenching to be let out
breaking cracking/gnashing teeth
left alone. all wanted
left to brain rot
but forced to sponge
learning what i want in
learning my ashcans full
i am done
I will. remain. despondent.
I wont apply my neurons
motor-sensory illusion
for math demagogues
what the ****
crust me over
cut my brain-case
destroy all brain
function and matter
grey dissolve to black
and white every *******
shade inside
cephalic
meat bowel

Lifeboats float back up to the top, after
re-inflated, I breathe air once again. My
retinas detect the light coming from
packets of waves emitting from the shore.
I float back up from the cold sea to the rock.
Alive.

We would never work. I need stability and security. I need safety. But you, you're inherently unsafe. You seek out chaos and conflict intentionally because you think it's interesting. If you were on the Titanic,you'd be pouring champagne and singing while the ship went down. Everyone would be screaming, getting into  lifeboats, and you'd be standing there on deck, with your glass of champagne, laughing, and you'd still find your way off the **** boat without even trying.

Are you familiar with the story , "The Monkey's Paw?" There's this magic monkey's paw, like a rabbit's foot kind of, and it grants any three wishes you want . The problem is, for every wish that comes true , there is a terrible, huge cost. Being with you would be my wish. You're  everything I want, and everything I'm not, and you would ruin me. You don't consider consequences, and if we were to end, you would move on to the next experience that seems interesting. But I would never recover. Being with you and losing you would devastate me so much that I can't even consider taking that risk.

You're like a high -risk investment. You could make me extremely wealthy, or I'll end up on the street.

I've never known someone with so much anxiety and so little fear.

Face it, the reason you're into feminism isn't because you want to raise up other women-- it's because you want to be held to the same standard as men. You know you're not just better than most women you meet, but that you are smarter, fiercer and more ambitious than most men, too. You want to be recognized as the best PERSON in the room, not just the best woman.


Do you really want me to try and stop you? You don't , because no matter what I say, you're going to do it. If anything the best way to discourage you is to encourage you, but you'll still do what you want anyway.And if you choose not to do it, it won't be on moral grounds, but just because you want to deny yourself a passion to prove that you can say no to yourself, that you have control, and that's not much better than doing it anyway, isn't it?
You are the strongest woman I've ever met. You hardly ever know what you want, but when you think you want something, you go out and get it. You never hesitate, you ignore your fear, and you don't care about morality. Sometimes though, you feel ashamed of yourself , and hide in your charms. You do it for so long and try so hard that you forget yourself. Don't forget yourself. You seek out people who have the passion and motivation you think you lack, but you have these things more than anyone. And most of all, you are powerful. I can't explain the power that emanates from you, but it's like a force of nature. You can't hide it and you shouldn't. You need chaos and conflict and madness to keep going, because you ARE chaotic, conflicted and mad.You need to stop feeling guilty and afraid of yourself, and be the person you are, not the person you think you should be.

I walk along the endless shores,
trying to decide whether or not
I should plunge into the depths
of what this world has to offer.

As I step upon the grains of time,
one step more sure than the other,
I wonder what life will bring me
if I continue following this path.

The timeless beach takes me closer
to the next journey across time.
The water is calm and inviting, here,
and I’m curious to know what’s beyond.

The seas of the world are full,
filled with opportunities and chance.
I hesitate to take my lifeboat
to where Life is most unsure.

While the Seas of Life are disturbed
by storms of many lives competing,
I stay afloat closer to quiet shores
where life is still, in harmony with Nature.

Yet, when I meet another Life,
one who’ll guide me along, safely,
I know I’ll follow without a doubt,
as we’re stronger with the two of us.

Together, we’ll cross Life’s oceans
and journey with purpose to our goal.
We’ll share lifeboats and experience
until we reach the end, where we’ll grow old.

My father
left my mother
waiting on a promise
but no more
pretty anniversary vacations
only divorce lawyers
and yelling
bitter compromises
drawing sobs from my mother
on the first Christmas Eve that you weren't here

I was eighteen when it happened
so It didn't hit me quite so hard
as my thirteen year old brother
but it did hit me
not a haymaker
but a series of sharp jabs
to the cerebellum
and it makes me mad
thinking back to all
the comparisons between us
and it makes me
absolutely ******* furious
that try as I might
I still love you
But don't call me son
because you divorced us
and I appreciate your monetary lifeboats
but I would make it without them
besides I think of it
as compensation for what you did to my head

Mother dearest's pain
flowing through open vessels
to the salt of lovers
and I've been falling in love ever since
every pretty faced girl
who ever looked as if she'd frowned
became angelic saviors
in my eyes
something to protect
and love forever
But I can't love every
cute girl I see
forever
I know that
and I love them too much to hurt them
to be honest I think you
stole the hope of me
ever understanding what real love is
I just want to save every girl
whose cheeks are scarred with forgotten tears
but I can't
so I revert to a one night stand
fueled by futility and whiskey and ****** beer
never allowing myself to give
that old poison that we like to call Love
I carry a cross
made of sins of the father

The ship is sinking
and the women and children
are still on board,
but the lifeboats have been taken
and the ******* Captain,
he ain't letting any more board.

One day soon
in this unknown country
where our dreams shout
and jump ship,
a train will come
and it will arrive full-steam
ahead, and full of resisters
looking to take the Captain's head.

Awash with ***** I peed all over me
   shoes
Well Storm me if I ain't a bad sea
   Captain
I'd had a ton of *** and a whole
   barrel of porter
Now the landlord he's shouting "Last
   Orders"
So where's me Crew, me Swabs, me
   Hearties ?
Yea! where's me Aces and me Deucies
.......Nowhere to be seen, not a one,
Just a pack of feckin' Jokers,
Find me the Fox and show me the
   Shirkers!!!

I'd drunk too much that's what I'd
   done
Well tie me to the mast and chastise    
  me severely for such unseemly
     behaviour
All I wanted, just some fair company, to be lavished by a couple of lovelies
But No! they wouldn't have it,
   wouldn't entertain me
Snobs! Stuck up cows!! *******!!!
We nearly had a Barney
I'd rather wet me ***** in a Jar of
   cold Jellies.

Standing there outside in the cold
   night air
Trying to get me bearings, yea! trying
   to take a reading
Me Northern Star, he must have
   fecked off to the Northern Bar
And my compass, he's whirling
   around like a Dervish,
Well ***** me sausage in a jar of
   malt vinegar
We're sailing blind tonight me boys
Keep a sharp lookout atop of the
   Crow's Nest won't ya!

And so, we ventured out, a brave man
With ***** as big as the bold Hercules
   himself
A wee bit tentative at first I'd concede
Lurching about from side to side, all
   over the place
But not to worry, with me there at the
   helm, both hands on the wheel
Solid and salty as any old sea dog
Singing away to meself a wee shanty
" I'm no landlubber me!
  Just give me the dark and the rolling
    sea"
Steady as she goes me Hearties!
I thought we was doin' alright till one
   of my feet
It trod in a space with nothing there
   in it
And my Ship it goes tumbling
   sideways over
Hell's britches!!! I'd trod in a pothole
   the size of a manhole
"Man the lifeboats Lads, we're going
   over" I cried.

Next thing I know I'm lying on my
   back
And the Moon she's blowin' me kisses
And at the end of the Bar, there! me
   Northern Star
And Him smokin' a cigar and sippin'
   Brandy with some *******
Looking like a Dandy at Christmas
"Hey Judas!" I shouts over, "where's
   me monkey?"

And then suddenly, this woman, this
   woman out of nowhere
Out of the darkness, this Spectre
An old Sea Witch for sure, by thunder
She starts bawling laughing at me and
   pointing her crooked finger,
Well dent me dagger on a cold
   woman's heart
If she doesn't cut the legs right out
   from under me
Every time she opens her big Gob, the
   squeals of her
Makes me feel two feet tall she does
   with her cruel laughin' & sneery
       banter
And her drawin' a big crowd around
   her
(And me! a Giant!!.... a feckin' Whale, a
   Walrus!!).

Well lash me Luger and wake me up
   with a poker
I wasn't wobbling, that was just me
   swagger,
And I ain't lying down here no longer
   either
Heave ** the ropes me lads and haul
   me up me Hearties
Till I stand once more at a proper
   angle,
Yea! Hoist me up like a mast and watch me sails billow again in the
   breeze
Watch me belly bulge out and me eyes
   roll around in me head
Now we're back afloat, buckle up me
   sword on me belt
And roll out me cannons
For the name of this ship, if it isn't the
   Great, the "Great Defiant ",
By the two Horns on Hell's Gate
What am I doing here at all in this
   place, with ye folk
I'll wave me ***** at this world, yea! I'll dangle me dibbler
Did ye not hear, did no one tell ye
I'm off yea! I'm off to Australia.

                       II

For Sweet Destiny, she visited me this
   night, she kissed me
She came like a gypsy when I was a bit
   tipsy
So exotic with all her bangles and
   beads and her charms
And dresses all the colours of the
   rainbow
With her big crystal ball eyes of grey
Like the Moon she mesmerized me
   completely
And then she kissed me with lips
   sweet as whiskey
And she whispered in my ear a magic
   word. " Australia ".

You see this was how it was
I read it some place,seen it somewhere
A sweet wee lass, a fellow girl poet
   from Australia
She said, she lamented " Poetry, it isn't
   very big over here
The people their not inclined, their not
   of that mind"
Said I aghast, I'll change their hearts
Their hardheaded folk, those folk
   down there
It must be the snakes and the spiders
   down the toilet
So hoist me up onto me pulpit
Them heathen folk they need
   convertin' badly.

O! Give me a Ship, give me a Galley
And like Columbus I'll start a big
   rumpus
We'll sail off over the horizon, and
   keep turning on the globe
Till we sight the shores of that Sweet
    Island
And that lovely Queen of the South
   reclining
Beautiful and wonderful Australia!!!

There's gold in their hearts even
   though they may not know it
And jewels in their eyes big as
   diamonds
Treasures by the thousand
So hoist up me trousers boys,
Me! I'm off to Sligo
Wait a minute, No! No I'm not,
I'm off.... off to Australia.

So gimme a wooden leg and hoist me
   parrot up onto me shoulder
Arrrr! Jim lad.....now where's me
   soldiers
Are ye with me lads
We'll plow through the sharky seas
Then I'll plant me flag on their
   beaches
And claim this Land for Posey.... yea!
   for Poetry,
And if they don't like it
If they string me up by the ***** and
   spit on me
Sure I'll just smile back at them and
   tell them
"I'm just..... I'm just Jim Dandy".

                       III

Alas! It wasn't to be, next morning
   they found me
Upended in someone's garden
The Sergeant he shook me, " What are
   you doing down there? " he said,
"Ahoy there shipmate Sir" says I, like a
   true shipwrecked sailor,
"I had me a dream last night,
I dreamt...I dreamt I were bound,
   bound for Australia.

Thus world is too cold
and painful to be alone in.
its a deep loneliness, something draws
my soul at, chewing me up.
I fear to wonder how the other must feel
Lest I sink down too deep in the dark
And am eaten whole.
This world is too cold
and painful to be alone in.
You need a light to guide your way,
humans weren't meant
to be self reliant.
That's why its a virtue.
Doing things you don't want to do
is considered...
What am I saying?
This world is too cold
and painful to be alone in.
Lost, seeking what can't be found
A ship with broken sail sinking
in a freak storm.
The captain got drunk and caused it
Albatross around his neck
Stuck to his flesh like a trophy
of his misery
The sailors consider hanging him
from the bow
But instead clamor into lifeboats
and leave him to drown.
He waves them off
And in the cloud and steel rain, that lashes against
Their arms and faces stinging,
The first mate turns back and looks
A peel of lightning strikes the
broken mast,
Splinters explode out from the wood,
Shredding the captain, still waving,
Still with that dead albatross
on his neck,
His words ringing through the
din and shouting men.
"With fate we part ways,
Yet in death I'll see ye all to safety.
I failed my crew twice,
And in once
Never again."

Miss Pinkie
(she dropped the Mrs
when the divorce
came through)

liked to put on
Mahler’s 1st symphony
when he came around
and he brought

the bottle of scotch
and when she let him in
she said
ah Professor

you have brought
the *****
I shall slip into something
more comfortable later

and she closed the door
behind him
and followed him
up the passage

her flip-flops
flapping behind him
like some penguin
and already he could hear

the opening bars
of the Mahler
as he entered the lounge
and smelt her perfume

and she took the bottle
and he said
I’ve selected the poems
for my first book

and she said
from the kitchen
o good
you’ll have to let me

read them before you
send them off
sure
he replied

sitting on her sofa
remembering where
he’d made love last time
and how he almost

fell off the sofa
but clung onto
her ample flesh in time
and how she laughed

and said
man overboard
throw him a lifebuoy
and as she came

with two glasses of the *****
and set them down
on the table
she sat down next to him

and kissed his cheek
and said
thanks for the *****
and for coming

and hey loosen that collar
this is no funeral
and her fingers undid
his shirt collar

down half way
and she rubbed his chest
and hairs
isn’t that better?

sure
he said
and leaned forward
and sipped the *****

already Pete in the pants
was stirring
and she said
I like this Mahler piece

it does things to me
and he listened
to the trumpets
and violins and those cellos

and sipped again
and her eyes widened
and her lips
came down on him

and he lay back
on the sofa overwhelmed
and like a drowning man
opened wide his arms

and waved
but none came
to rescue
no lifeboats set out

no one in sight
just him and Miss Pinkie
and Mahler
and the long hot night.

Flashing grasp of an idea
Before our youths were ever cashed in.
Held onto our chips, played close to the vest
                    in snow.
You were never enough sleeping,
And I guess I was just dreaming
                    of passing
                        ships
                    in the night
            and your signal lights
                        aglow.

                  ...in the foam...

Adventure was calling a heart slow to age,
the same as it had back in our young Old Days.
               So, some things don't change.

I remember, in the Winter,
Trudging quick to campus coffee shop.
Your wet hair frozen, and my breath in that
                    moment...

Springtime flash of our confessions
Just as our youths were getting cashed in.
Released all our chips we'd held close to our chests.
                    Let go.
We were lovers for a season
'til a sudden Summer leaving
                    a passing
                     of boats
                      in heat
             put our oars down
                and we rowed.

That feeling was calling my heart--"Time to age!"
Still falling, like it had in our young Old Days.
                         I guess some things don't change.

Along the way,
You must have fossilized inside me.
Lightning on waves--
Metastasized my bad dreams.
And, over time, see that I was a distraction
                                   No traction,
                                   No chance,
and no time for empty grief...
                         ...it's only brief, love,
                                still I did sink.

there was a ocean liner sailing out to sea it would it never make its maiden destinythe sea was getting rough and icebergs all aroundthen suddenly you heard big loud scraping soundthe ship it had been hit. damaged beyond on comparepassengers in a panic as they began to scarejumping on to lifeboats as they began to flee for those who where on board escape just wouldnt bethe ship it starting sinking  and slowly it went downas the passengers watched and knew some of them would drownnow the ship has gone  to the graveyard in the seaa another ship like her there could never be

i. The calm of the sea calls out to me like a sweet bitter song written on vengeful manuscripts left in a barren recording studio. I lay on the vessel, listening as the sea faeries whisper my name from the sea foam, asking me to stop the vessel I am on. I ignored them, for they are faeries which are clearly a figment of my imagination. The waves grew angry, and the sky overcast. Grey clouds surrounded us and lightning started to strike. A deep hollow sound erupted from somewhere above, and I knew that the faeries were infuriated. I rushed to the captain, a handsome, clean shaven man and begged him to stop the Costa Victoria. At seeing my pathetic self, he agreed to stop it and shut down all engines. The sea grew calm again, but we were stuck in the sea, the captain and I. The crew members were virtually nonexistent, as were the other passengers on board. They, of course, were merely evidence of an earthen world, and with the faeries’ storm, they had ceased to continue existing. I set off for the lifeboats with the captain in hand, a smile plastered on my usually dead face.



ii. Treacherous were the waves that stared back at me when my eyes took a detour out of the balcony. They were harsh and unforgiving, roaring and   rumbling beneath me. They didn’t disappear, but instead swallowed the night whole with an unprecedented strength.



iii. The sea was an endless expanse of black and white anguish, and in the horizon, an unknowing danger loomed, threatening to swallow us up whole if we didn’t continue our speed of 22 knots.



(lunarlullubies)

|PART THREE|
THE EMPTY SECOND
BECOMES AN
EMPTY SPACE
When it’s all over
forget about courtesy,
grab hold off a shooting star
and ride it all the way
until the photons say the
last word with a pulse of light


The man is no longer doubled over and
Observable from the window
As a result of his fifty-eight years
the equation of his life
All comes to zero
Whilst the mocking ticking and tocking
Of an old clock knocking minutes like
Nails into the wall—

He disappeared in a puff of smoke,
The ice in his glass melted and the woman picked it up,
Drinking it in a single gulp, the glass comes down as if
Magnetically drawn to the floor, the floor,
Where she lies silently and stretches her body
To get some release, she rubs her face against
The carpet, nothing matters except the next second,
Eyes, behind a blink or two, dart to another part of the empty room
She couldn’t think any further ahead than a second at all

And the zodiac crashed open
the ram sent stars flying
the crab snipped the string that suspended the stars
mars took some flak
and finally the sun was burst
by the horned goat
and aquarius held it
like the final fluid sphere

Stars, burning across the sky like the striking of a match
Those wishing on shooting stars
couldn’t decide what they wanted
many of them flying as there were

As well-known monsters
Weighed down by human hope,
clear out our night sky,
Leaving not a freckle to observe
Telescopes now point into bedroom windows
Shadows portray a sort of life,
Shadow puppets depict death through
Tragedy and lapses in timekeeping and
Obsessions with vanity

Life spends some empty second
Inside your lungs,
Continues on it’s way
To resuscitate a slowly fading knife attack victim
Or shake the hand of a minute,
Time is ticking laboriously by

The light, motherless and lost,
Spat out at as the sun was burst,
It looks up to see
the unveiling of the universe,
Finally,

the oyster swallowed the sea.




*—I didn’t want to be a poet by any means. After what happened working on the lifeboats I couldn’t go near the sea, so in a way I chose which parts of it I wanted and wrote about them. It terrifies me and fascinates me at the same time. I fully believe I will return to it only as ash...

Wallace Hartley nodded
and the band played on.
The lifeboats and collapsibles
by then were launched and gone.

Futile flares lit up the sky
A chill borne of despair.
What was the last song that you played ?
A waltz? a Hymn? a prayer?

The violin I hold in my hand
was Wallace's all right.
What will be bid for this memento
of that remembered night?

Some survivors after claimed
you played a hymn of praise.
The wireless man McBride recalled
a mournful waltz was played.

You were the gift of Wallace's love
A girl who never wed.
The last memento of these Lovers
who rest now with the dead.

Now all Titanic's complement
are muted dead and gone.
Yet all survivors testified
that the band, indeed, played on.

Like strangers Uninvited
Into each others domain
I crept a little closer to u
That first night on the cabin porch
Your song sang out to me
I made excuses just to get near you
That hookah would travel farther with us
Every conception is so symbolic
Off the bat, don’t deny he was right there, the demon at my shoulder, ashamed of him, I encouraged the demon at yours,
Your river of wine.
You saw him, never knowing how long it would take me to slay it,
And I watched yours never knowing how much you had to drink.
With both our arms caressing our poisons, we reached out the other
Save me you cried
Save me first I beseeched you
So we played doctor and bandaged each other
Til our wounds screeched out in protest
Then the dragon engulfed me and sat on my wings,
You returned to your drinking A sea of red
When the sun came out again, and illuminated our detours
The tides pushed us close, we ran out unclothed into the ocean,
our bodies clung to one another as
Drowners to lifeboats
I limped away from the dragons lair, attempting to unfurl my wings, nursing scars
Crawled into your bed
With your demons tossed aside,
You couldn’t bear the sight of the wounds mine inflicted.
You tried to draw close
I tried to be yours
We flew on a magic Carpet, it was
A Whole New World

I never discarded any part of us, maybe that’s why you never let go
So with one finger wound tightly to your heart in bronze metal,
With the other hand I reached for my sword
And with the courage I never had before, I hunted down my demon.
His head came off swiftly and cleanly
I sidestepped the blood
I carried it by its hairs to your doorstep
And fell into your embrace.

Now we drink from the same river, we share a glass of wine
Our summer fling is over
You are the best thing that’s ever been mine
Its a whole New World
No one to tell us no
Or where to go
Or say we’re only dreaming….
Don’t you dare close your eyes
Hold your breathe it gets better

Tum Tum Tum!

“Ladies and Gentlemen,
            We welcome you aboard to take flight
            and soar in a melting *** of degradation.
            Where we file you by nation and
            take elation in your degrees,
            specifically those on bended knee.

Your angry plees will reach deaf ears,
            and no amount of tears
            can move
            the System.

So sit back and listen to safety procedures:
            The seat belt is fastened such,
            in order to crush
            against dignity.
            The overhead oxygen mask will drop
            if engines stop
            and we need to crash,
           the freshest air always comes last.
            
Lifeboats offer the final cruise
            until red sharks *****
            on your blood.
            And turn cell phones off
            so we don’t flood
            the System.

We’re not done, so kindly shut up and listen:
            The ability to lunch is an epitome,
            simply a costly accessory,
            just hold your gut,
            and allow us to degrade
            some more.

We implore you to understand,
            for we do not.
            In the System you’ll find
            no heart,
            simply an enigma,
            no end
            no start.

All lights will be turned off
            for the duration of the flight.
            Tough.
            The enlightened can switch
            the overhead lamp,
            if you can reach
            as far as that.

To encounter turbulence is a must.
            For those who do not trust
            in us
            must be shaken
            and rattled.
            After all,
            eliminate the fight
            by eliminating the battle.

We hope you enjoy the flight,
            and know you will soar again soon,
            from noon to noon
            we move in unison,
            frequent fliers of
            the System.”

Tum Tum Tum.

Holding onto reality with both hands
His social life in a cup of coffee as he waits
Swamped sinking lifeboats
No longer accepting applications
For jobs that have sailed away

Buried alive, a napkin waiting its turn
To be plucked out and used
Then thrown out
Lucky if recycled and repurposed
To a younger man’s vision

Torn apart, his skills repackaged, Frankensteined for each resume
The boring job of cutting checks means he was
A bookkeeper, an accountant, detail oriented,
Friendly to external and internal users or customer service driven
Or any combination of above.

Leaving his car at home, he walks,
Afraid of running out of money for gas and repairs
Wondering what pieces he will put together today
Reducing his years of experience to a tweet
Comprehensible to the child in charge of his future.

As long as you are at the center of the earth
Or the edge of the universe,
Hell will never enter your existence,
Your experience.
Once, flaws embrace, sin sought with haste,
You can reject disgrace, attack commonplace,
But all were misplaced,

Without a trace.
Disappear.
Without fear.
Now,It is worth anything.
Other than avoiding fate.
It is never too late.

Face the sense evidence:
A blade of grass, a tender touch, a slice of sky,
One piece of sand holds billions of lives,
However fleeting, however insignificant,
All unending, all replicants.
The warm sun embraces your face’s unstable, tedious nature;
The earth steps on you as erratically as your feet follow you instincts;
The wind refuses to help you succeed in life
Except for a nice breeze;
The stars shine for your hope, for your passion
But they flicker.

The universe is relative –
Shocked crystal glass shards shared
Among the blissful crowd abusing the floor
With their tranced feet and ceaseless beat.

Or
Blissless Hypnosis,
Soul lost, listless,
Embracing shears and splinters
Of sneers and tears.
They merely bicker and snicker,
Trade fingerpoints and lies,
But forgive in time-
Who can bear to live alone?
And so, they retreat,
Return to the white strings of
Existence;
They compete
On who can fabricate a better
Phantom sheet.

Or
Slash the shoelace ties,
Fraternal, maternal,
Return all the beats, rhythms, revisions,
Riffs, myths, cysts.
Live on inflated lifeboats shrouded in mist.

Your haunting, taunting dark amethyst eyes with
Decorations of admiration exist:

As strong as –
As special as –
As much as –
As harmless as –
As constant as –

A grey, limp piece of neck string,
An empty swing,
A melancholy molecule of water dripping,
A monarch armed with thorn swords on its wings,
All of the things
Arbitrary and inconsistent
As existence.

The universe laughs at individuality,
The stars sob, pitying those persistent dancers
Who stomp their feet on sheets of glass.

The hypnotist smirked,
Phantoms never could resist the redundancyOf hell.

Your bow is all elbow,
a flank of forearm that is
supporting and simply cradling
my imagination
where a dozen or so
lifeboats hang off starboard
in case things get too much

I, captained by your sturdy arms,
nip up to the crow’s nest
for a sip of spiced ***
for a bit of warmth and
perhaps more—

a full beard that reminds
me so much of Darwin
I feel certain I am on the Beagle
and hungry to shoot some
lame birds one by one!

Your shoulder
where I can sleep forever—
come sharks and eat my catch
while I whisper poetry,
summon ghosts and
******* Hemingway,
whose macho act was betrayed
by his pain-filled eyes
and sensitively painted
one-word skies

You, my aching hull
in human form,
rocking gently as the sea
slows our progress
knowing we are
wishing away time too often

the working of the gyro
prevents my seasick blushes
we do not yet know each other
that well but all is fine as I see it,
your arms really are made of
shipworthy wood and
beneath deck, where I will sleep
tonight above Atlantis’s cesspit,
we just bounce off each wave,
getting closer and closer to the moon
but not yet arrived,
has sleep come too soon for me tonight?

I’ll rest and stretch and groan
like weary ****** do
once Surya helps me turn out the light




*—Yes, once my ship did start to sink. I called until my throat was gone and ended up swimming a good distance until crucially a boat came by and pulled me out of the sea. I remember thinking: I should feel more grateful to be alive. I went back to where it sank and retrieved a few personal items, then I sat on the beach a wept as if the whole thing had just hit me.

it was simple with you

it was simple with you at the beginning but the further we got into this the more my poems included maybe's in them

I told you im afraid of thunderstorms but the worst are when you're not here and I'm alone staring at a screen that causes what feels like a bucket of bitter salt water to come pouring down my cheeks only to remind me how human I am and how impossible to save from the things I fear most

Maybe you're here to teach me a lesson on love even when I thought I had learned them all but if that's the case I want to be left alone now because I don't have a warning alarm and I feel like I'll drown soon

Lifeboats are unnecessary but maybe next time you could bring something other than a rope that I keep cutting my hands on because all I do is hold on and on and on and on until eventually my skin cracks and no lotions can help it anymore

You can't keep giving me mountains of ambiguity because my rivers don't work well with them and eventually you'll cause a drought that perpetuates long past the end of this relationship and long past the end of maybe's

The waters are calm and icy, moonlight glimmers across the vast blue sea but the fog is thick up ahead
This world cold like an icy sea in darkness they stay seemingly calm as they stray into dense fog so that they cannot clearly see their way.
"Speed it up we want to make it a day early!" the bribed captain tells the crew. With a smile and a laugh they gladly obey.
Faster now and a little too late, the unsinkable cannot turn sharp enough to slide by unscathed.
Just like the titanic the world is anxious to speed things up, to get ahead, to progress in anyway possible in order to make more money or fame. Very little is done to make good choices, until all of a sudden it's too late.
Unafraid they proudly announced she would not sink. With so much pride the rich remain in denial.Time seemed to drag on as they got the rich to safety. Enough lifeboats to save 1500, yet in their disbelief and unwillingness to unite only 700 made it out alive.*
The world still believes only the wealthy should remain. There is no unity in humanity, hence,... this system is a lot like the Titanic.*

2 Peter 3:3&4
"First of all know this, that in the last days ridiculers will come with their ridicule, proceeding according to their own desires and saying: ' Where is this promised presence of his? Why, from the day our forefathers fell asleep in death, all things are continuing exactly as they were from creations beginning'"
Matthew 24:37-39:
"For just as the days of Noah were, so the presence of the Son of man will be. For as they were in those days before the flood eating and drinking, men marrying and women being given in marriage, until the day that Noah entered into the ark, and they took no note until the flood came and swept them all away, so the presence of the Son of man will be."
http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20071129121817AARZMIJ

Yesterday, I plucked up the planet and dropped it into a colander.  I shook it through, taking out all the ships and lifeboats, the yachts and canoes.  Putt-putt boats and blow-up rafts.  Every life vest and floating device was carefully removed.

Today, I cried for twenty-four years.  The oceans began to rise and the coastal towns fell off the shorelines.  Everyone fled the coasts, but it did not matter.  After twenty-four years the world was covered and all things green with life were drowned and flooded.  When my tears slowed, I scooped out each eyeball, wrung them out, and then placed them back into their sockets.

Tomorrow, the water will recede for twenty-four years before I find any solid ground.  When I do, I will crawl out from the sea and let the sand scrape at my body.  The tide will wash over me until I am sprawled out, absorbing the rays on my speck of land in this ocean-world.  

The sun will sink into my skin.  I will dry out.  My brittle remains will crack and flake away when the sea reclaims its only island.

The angels are playing their instruments
as the ship goes down
lifeboats made of billboards float through
the riptide of endlessly mundane adventures
icebreaking the callous apathy
one of these days the sun will tire of
dancing with the moon in the celestial ballroom
and one will fall
down on one knee
whatever the opposite of a proposal is
we ride this rock but don’t listen
when they tell us to keep our arms and legs
inside the car during the duration
the young smolder until they are quenched
or suffocated
and we all worship the first tree to flower in the spring
the line between ADD and stopping to look at all of these miracles
is as blurry as **** on the tv
but feed us with pills, pop-psychology, and poetry
stenciled on the bottoms of bridges
by wandering beaten down heroes
of St. Paul, San Fran, Richmond
Planet Earth
the to-do list consists of
find some paper and a pen
and something to do
country folk with straw in their mouth
a good hard day’s work
But I just rolled out of bed
and the world is flirting with me too much today
to simply ignore it