"nightwalks" poems
You spoke to me again
I thought you were done visiting
But awoken, your form the cause to stir
Things have been different
Sometimes, just sometimes
I admit, the image
Of you disappears and I doubt
If you were real
Food tastes different
Trees grow strangely
People are boring
I think about
Where, or what
You are
When I died, my
Body seemed
So
Suffocating
I laughed more, at
Serious things
No pain in the
Hot or sharp
Do you live like exhaled cigarettes, silent and
Blending sick with winter breath?
I was adrift above the city
Same as smog, but heavy dropped and return
Forever, then
You must have kept on rising
Why continue to show self to
Me when there is nothing to be helped
On and gone accepted was a blessed dressing on stretched messy testing
Of mortal skin ripped many over?
Tap dancing the Morse message
On the sensitive ruby stillflow stream
That had loved you goodbye
Final
I love the nightwalks
With the ghouls and spirits
And giggling about what it
Is to be beyond
But the bond is a brain is a broken is a binding
Paper signing
To be a devil is a labor
When waging daily
War one wakes weary
I see why you don’t often
Come back but
“I will again”
Anticipation?
Tingle with the sensory tense
Of the Vanishers who
Smile in reflections half seen
And questioned
Slipping back into shadows
Of inner eyes
And thunder storms
Of the mind
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
Dahlias, little blue fence, the sweet breeze; long grass in the frontyard.
Kisses with intent lips, September; lemon-poppyseed cake.
The big moon.
Dogs howling, a scratch from a bramble on my wrist.
10pm and the rainfall.
9am and a rainbow arcs over our house which resembles a doll house.
Who is the antagonist in this mess of a story?
...
Burning love-notes in the kitchen,
The coffee tastes wrong, WE used to share it.
You take the puppy and leave only flower-petals in the sink as proof you were ever here.
Cigarettes and nightwalks, dawn; waking in the backseat of my car and hangovers hanging over.
Goodbye dahlias and house with little blue fence,
Bye comfort.
The world is a newborn.
I am at my beginning too and I take a breath....
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 5:32 PM UTC
Treat me like a
Cigarette,
Dancing sparks
On the pavement.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 2:38 AM UTC
nightwalks
thinking of you
tasting you of my cigarette
hearing your voice of my music
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered
(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life
transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson
forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister *****
inflicted courtesy yours truly
said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf
existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout
(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina
betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),
thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own
metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 10:43 PM UTC