walking from A to B,
no this is not geometry,
but it might as well be,
as with your eyes, see,
well what do you see,
unless you live in BC,
you won't see me and
I in turn won't be free,
to see you.

with your eyes, that first glance,
take a risk that is hazard's chance,
don't step closer or bend down,
log it away in your card file brain,
before it is washed away to the drain
or picked up as treasured claim.

use your eyes, with that first glance,
no glossing over, might miss romance,
call it flirtation, or orchestration, you
are the maestro and the other, the ensemble,
well, conduct yourself accordingly but tumble
safely.  

those eyes so beautiful you have, can find words,
to clear the tears off your cheeks with the
new merino wool sweater sleeve and
that intense emotion that has
you locked and loaded as
someone goaded you
again,
and again,
and again, if this was *** that would be fine,
but it is not and your vexed
at how poetry rocks
your world but
also rocks the boat,
whenever you take
the time not to memorize by rote (that would be too staight forward)
take the technology out for a walk,
instgram your photo of your poem and share it on facebook, and
twitter while showing your interest on pinsterest, how is that *******
working out for you?,
or dot those eyes and cross your teas,
take ink or graphite, and write about
your sorrows, your joys, your day, your dreams,
what you saw,what you thought saw, like a puddy cat,
you did, you did and that Bugs me I forgot the color or was
                 it just me and invisible over there?
You get conflict, at that first glance at your notepad,
or keyboard or mumble "I need to write this down,
before I forget".  That first glance you take, all else fades to black,
                                                          ­                 until you write.



©DWE012014

your father is a morbid man puddy. .. . but morbid can be good if you accept it...
..how can it be good?idunnoimnotmakinganysense............   ..  ..    .well.   i guess if youre in the right mood or in the right setting.(i pictured people. a woman mainly. with dark hair. and everyone had glasses of red wine and were laughing in a short hysterical way. and i realize these people arent representations of people ive seen act like this, theyre representations of me. i kno that feeling which makes that laugh. when hearing stories or seeing pictures or videos of people dying suddenly or getting tortured and the abuser maybe dismembering himself or herself after or committing an interesting suicide which we love to hear about and the sickening brutality and pain and fear and cringing you feel is instantly replaced with a swift too swift and sharp laughter. and these stories are real, otherwise its just silliness or boys being boys with their sick imaginations and saying it just for attention or to be funny or weird.. and we all might question ourselves slightly but either Time or Exposure to the Wicked World or most likely the validation of our indecencies with everybody else's  because its a whole room laughing lets us feel better about it each time but then more ashamed of our withering virtue until we forget. and something to understand from the remark "but either Time or Exposure to the Wicked World or most likely the validation of our indecencies" ad its there is no difference in this matter between the options 2 and 3 because we are the Wicked World. and all 3 are just things we waste. and if not laughing sharplyand loud and insane maybe some of us are at least being entertained while wailing in a definite cringe or exasperation or i dont kno but it is blended with the jovial air of the room. and people and family members laugh with and comfort and joke with eachother like a pride or a flock or any group of animals showing their young 'here.its ok.its an apple. you can touch it. it wont hurt you. its our food.' but we say "c'mere, the foundation of this world and all its agony will rip you apart, so here, learn how to find joy in it otherwise youll be too effected and will need to be discarded from normal happy people who kno their happiness comes first. because thats how we work as people and as a group. now here, have a drink. we pretend it helps and seek it out against our better judgment because we dont want to exist because weve become nothing in place of the wide range of terrible emotions we should experience when seeing the world for what it is.. ourselves most of all." and i guess that is what i pictured. the average happy people. family people. nice house and aunts and christmas people. and i kno im biased but nothing in this imagery matters. i was supposed to capture just the thoughts which i actually spoke to myself or my dog or whoever but now i have a brick-sized moving picture of my interpretation of happy family americans and other nations and just everybody.  but im no different. deep down anyway. deep down i am selfish and scared and come to the conclusion that the world is too complicated to be fixed and were too dumb to fix it reguardless and more so we are filled with souls which shift too often which we must only watch drift away moment to moment leaving us with many things but definitely a healthy amount of selfishness and, well, psychology i guess. we can figure our race and ourselves out as much as is possible and maybe even be right about some things, but knowing what drives us and feeling compelled are unrelated. too constant of a shift are we to be anything describable in correct terms and too unknown is the future to kno wut form our shift could bring us to. ..this is all absolute nonsense. i started rambling world. u gave me a mouth and i started rambling with it. i am definitely equal to a baby human or animal just shrieking into the world because, well just because its alive. so im a baby with no way of managing my existence other than making sounds because there are ears everywhere and peeing where i lay because its inside of me then it comes out because im unaware of my functions and we all send scattered unfinished nonsense to eachother and they send their own version of it back to the human and we manage to make ourselves sick and destroy our home and we're like an ant colony with no coordination.) and then something about laughter is sometimes a coverup for discomfort, so laughing from something morbid is not good. but then again it is still a laugh, and wut is the point system for laughing goodness and thats it the end jesus christ stop. *******. later. txt me wenever. have fun at ur party. i hope the weathers nice up north and not too cold cuz i kno u hate the cold. and im probably a boring **** saying cheezy things trying to act natural and nice and caring but i have my own agenda and am too unnaware to kno that and therefore will never be able to change for the better because i am a stupid human who thinks they have something figured out about every moment of every day but cant really do anything. cant see myself how others see me and cant feel the right way ong enough to accept it and constantly contradicting my conceptual and moral and spiritual universe and will never realize that 99.9 percent of the time my thoughts are of things like rocks and puffy things and shooting myself in the head and im hungry and **** that ***** and... im such a loser. if i dont start acting and living like a straight shooter my only outcome down the road will be lonelyness, heartbreak. regret. shame. and many other bad things where everything i love is either ded or has abandoned me because i am now a man and there is no such thing as abandoning a man but i am alone and want to die and i do. i **** myself and im ded. and there is no heaven and i have no soul and no one knows im ded and the passerbys and police officers and coroners who kno that im ded dont kno my name. so everyone i ever loved who havent loved me for years will die years down the road with families who love them and i will never cross their minds again. and i will deserve it. and i will pray for satan to devour my flesh and feel a demon inhabit my body along with my terror.

look ***** i aint tryna play you
Just trying to mack to you
Show ya real thangs
Embrace the world
With my **** brain
Hard to maintain when weeds settles
I get that ******* blowin' like a kettle
Baby dont settle for less
This aint no wild guess
Let me mack to ya ears and grab ya breast
And put yo fingers on my masculine chest
Yea i know like that gangsta ****
**** passion im long lastin blastin'
My *****
In ya puddy cat
Ya dont have to wonder where the daddy at?
Im right bebe have no fear
Droppin' game faster than the clouds drop a tear
You cant fade me???



Now that we in this relationship
I gotta lotta thangs
To confess im freaky as they come
Watch me roll up some sess
Take a puff with me
And lets do some lesbian ******* ****
Promise I won't hit
Unless ya let me girl i make ya forget me
Like amnesia  
The ***** pleaser
These other nigguhs jackin'
With twizzlers
Im my ***** hot as a sizzler
Ask ya girl i bet im dickin' her
No shame in my game
You know the rules
Yo ***** chose me
Cuz of my m a c k
Still pack the AK Everyday
Just incase a hater got something
To say
So **** peace im still in yo ear piece
Now rest in peace ***** can ya fade me???

He says, “buckle up.”
I say, I AM A CAR CRASH
with silly puddy metal doors
and ****** hair and a hole
in my windshield and I am on fire.
In a bad way. You cannot tell me not to wreck myself because that’s what I do best.
I am thin ice on a popular lake.
I am an abandoned brick building and I welcome the momentum of a swinging pendulum ball.
Topple my structure,
I hold up nothing.
Knock me over, I have been empty for too long!
I am the combination of deep roots and wanderlust.
I am two colliding passenger trains in the middle of a tourist trap
that you never expected to visit this long. Long like 5 o’clock traffic amongst trainwrecks,
I am the obstacle and the road.
In my own bed and still wanting to go home
because he taught me how it is to really feel alone
like a 4am songbird
or an easter island cannibal.

Can you depict a scene you’ve seen before?
Using written words and nothing more?
They flow from my fingers like waves on a shore.
The tide chases the moon
And the water retreats the puddy-like sand.
There, write on the beach,
A scene I wished I'd never seen,
My dried up words like a fish out of sea.

the keystone walls melting on on its of gold, taking their glistening edges, spreading all over, the foxes dipping in their hands in the outrage chase, dodging the bulders, putting down the poison that looks like the puddy, passing on the next seed, ears perked up, hunger and pity in the eyes, jesus I speak then I speak too quickly then I don’t speak quickly enough, wanting a few words to help me get through, but find that the words fall then the predictable precedents I’ve set for myself come back in a rush, and those who I at once thought were on my side have been injested, and I have become bigger, and even more confused.  The swag is definite, and I have a few directions, then I pull ojn the tabs and suddenly I’m back with some of my pals, hey arnold preaching his word, his riches heir, poetry and padding patty and curly, punching me in the gut, great little suite in a little niche, its the life, what do I compare the next thing to, the abstract seems even more real than any joke falling on an audience, with a dead face that gets a chuckle and the band falls on the downbeat, a dance to distract from the lack of content

where am I coming from?  Complete utter confusion, questions upon questions, leading me with no prejudice, missing the sweetness of pre-judgment, how it helped me get through days and dismiss, where is jesus?  I’m lucifer, pesticide and bourbon and swanky classes sketching hateful remarks into the desk ******* off professor clawson, sent to the office of vice principal dawson, not the alpha but the cronie who worships, trouble with no proper attention, tar with no high, get used to the asphalt,

Awakened in darkness by a sound
Heart thunders like mustangs running free on the plains
The bed is empty beside me
Wondering where my mate is
The noise grows louder, closer

A whisper is heard my heart slows
It is Him of my dreams
The darkness is rich
I cannot see even and inch
Suddenly His hand touches my cheek
I almost unleash a scream
His hushed sounds calm me again
As I feel silk pressed to my eyes
Pressure to the back of my head
He ties the knot

He guides me from my safe bed
My chest tightens in anticipation and dread
I feel, hear and smell things all around
The floor is cold beneath barefeet
Noises seem louder
I can smell his cologne, his masculine body scent

It is a familiar smell though it seems mysterious
My ******* are taut
As His finger tips graze over my flesh
Continues to lead me into another space

I hear a door open, another, and stairs
He guides me expertly until we arrive where?
The entire walk he speaks softly
Things touch me unfamiliar
Suddenly he stops
Fairly soon I will surely need a towel

His lips press to mine scarcely at first
Deepening as his tongue claims mine
Our passion ignites
He says yield as my body says fight
My body craves his touch

My hands are bound and hung above my head
The darkness still shields me from what is around
My flesh is chilled as my gown is rent
Not for long as something snaps
Sending searing heat along my breast

Crying out the scene unfolds
Snaps and cracks as leather and flesh meet
His tongue licks the stripes
**** throbs from heat
Moisture flows like rain

His implements and body bring about
feelings of intense pleasure from pain
Senses are heightened as he works
my body becomes puddy
As hands sculpt and ply it in shape

My first release immediately followed by another
He drinks my essence
Starved for it he claims
He brings me to the edge
Pinnacle of delight

Pale flesh red as fire
All I can feel is raw intense desire
Untying me quickly
We fall to the floor
Our bodies joining as one
The pain and pleasure obscure
Our passion goes on forever it seems
til finally passion is slaked for now

He pulls the blindfold from my eyes
Muted light from the fire nearby is seen
My hands having felt every inch of Him
Heart races once more as emeralds meet seas of blue
He isn't a stranger ohhhh my no
It was my mate all along

He chuckles as His lips meet mine once more
The man I adore
Brought me through yet another door
On a path of mystery
Mystery of pleasure mixed with something a little different

Ahhh and lest I forget
His bites are the best
Nothing is forsaken
For his pearly whites
To clamp down and bite

I dip my toes
Into the shore of the abyss
A rush of cold
As you greet my pink painted feet

I become bold as you draw me outward
Knees, hips, chest, head
My legs become non-existent, weightless
The power of your waves crash over me
One by one

Under, over, intensely still
I run as fast as I can
But am slowed by your hold
Sand becomes puddy
As it grasps at my feet

I stay out with you as long as I can
Until Mother says I have to come wash up
I float on my stomach
Allowing soley you to push me to shore
This is a large effort for you
As your body recoils like the fading sun.

I shed a tear of salty sea water as I leave you behind
But with a whisper you remind me
You’ll be right here
Watching over me and waiting
For my return in the morning.

you were a perfectly good waste
of blank CDs
but it's okay
you never liked my mixtapes anyways

there's still a part of me
that can't let you go
I burned everything I wrote
flames in all the photos
but I kept the one that doesn't even show your face
you pulling me down the street in a sled,
so I can pretend
you were the one carrying my weight

lover
our favorite thing to do together
was go to the movies
half of our bodies touching
and I think you liked it so much
because neither of us would speak
and you told me to pick out my own Christmas present
at the store that you work in
one t shirt, one beanie
because 15% off is worth more than spontaneity

lover
I passed you in the hall
while you were trying to talk to me
and it was unbelievably hard
to just keep walking

lover
we always kept the lights off
backseats barebones long nights no sleep
black friday ****** mornings
you told me you would leave if we hung out
when I was anything but sober
but you laughed and kissed me instead whenever you see my eyes are red

I've been writing about you for the past 3 months
and it's all been complete ******* garbage
everything was always about you
and thanks to me, it still is

lover
love her
I feel sorry for her
I tried so hard
I wore flannel every day
to melt into yours
I was puddy in your rough palms
molding to every move
my bones are breaking
because I let you fill up every part that was empty
and I asked you about your father
and you never asked about mine

lover
I check your twitter every day
I just want to know what's going on in your head
I never knew what was going on in your head
you came over at midnight
to climb into my bed
and I begged you to stay
but you never forgot to set an alarm
there was a time limit on us
ever since the first day

lover
I never even met your mom
but you got ******
any time I felt embarrassed by mine
I wanted to be everything you wanted
but that just wasn't me
I'm so sorry
that you spoiled every part of me
that was worth keeping
that night at the bonfire
I was trying to give you a second chance
but you didn't take it
so I kissed him instead
sometimes I wonder
if I'm no better

lover
I'm sorry that I lied
I told you I would always be there
and so did you
in that book of poems by Gwendolyn Brooks you knew I had my eye on
you told me were bad at communicating
but maybe we just weren't listening
only waiting for our turn to speak
only waiting to hear you speak
only waiting for you to say that you love me like I always did
to make you feel sorry for me

lover
I wanted to love you so badly.

Welcome to a girl.

A girl who built a city,
Raised it up in her own hands
Held it out to me.

Showed me her work.

Then crumpled it in her palms,
Like puddy in her hands.

She told me to help her make it real.

I thought it was.

But I guess city's don’t crumble
The way my walls did when the tone of her voice changed.

She got louder and my walls fell apart like sand.

Little did I know,
Her broken city
Held an army.

A army that you can’t hide from.
You have to meet it head on.
Or, it kills you.

Or at least that's what I thought.

But her army emerged,
And pushed, and molded the city
Until it was perfect again.

She held a city in her palms.
Showed me it again.

This time,
I held her fingers back.

Her city had cracks running deep.
Canyons that weren’t in it before had now shown up.

Showing a beating heart under it.

It was her heart.

She crumpled her city,
So her heart would be hidden.

But once the army showed up,
It showed her heart once more.

The army helps her regain her humanity.

Will you give me some
     puddy Tat?

Make me mark my territory *******
    as I love to hear your meowing, purring
so, I hiss away all competition,

display, both my pleasure and anger
     flicking my tail tip
deposit my pheromones with my cheeks

our yowls together a treasure resolving
     throughout the neighborhood under
a full moon backlight, Your soft neck in my teeth

awaking the witches and innocence gone
     with vocalizations: starting low pitched rising coming
back down. We always land on our feet.

We may be feral, wild prodigiously mate
         I done let go of your neck,
you retract your claws, we go our ways,

high from the catnip(ing) nap then.
       The queen struts away.
I tom the night , a stray, puppy cat.

The light was so bright and blinding that I didnt really notice what lie beyond the whiteness. the trees were as white as the flower petals that lie on the frozen ground, but their leaves where the pink the flower lacked. The sky had no blue, and the clouds blinded the sun. An eagle lie in a nest atop a tree that was the biggest, but the nest was black with puddy. The proud animals stand still as the trees that surround them. the gown lay heavy on my shoulders as I walked down the path that lead to nowhere but kept going. The gown was as white as the tree's bark before me, but I needed to get somewhere. out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of black run out from the trees. Once the figure came out of the white shadows. Its hooves beat like music to my ears, and its eyes were bluer than the deepest oceans. it looked at me and the sparkle in its eyes was the only thing that made everything better, it was like it was talking to me with its eyes. and then I was on the petal ground filled with joy and hope, my wings spread wide and the colors of the deepest purple and brightest blue spread beautifully and evenly. then I woke with the faith big enough to cover the earth

I hold the soles of my feet
Wondering if there's solace at the bottom of me
Even the part that touches earth,
Filth &
Mud

It all feels like a crackling can
Left over effervescent
Growing stale
When I rattle myself
There's the sound of rock hitting glass
Coins on sheet metal
And not much else

The face feels heavy after
A long day of lying
To myself
Through my teeth,
Even bypassing that soft
Gellatinous puddy
Wadded up in my core

I'm sure it use to be larger.

Maybe it came from the sky

Or the place juxtaposed
In an immediate instance
One gulp of fresh air
Below my curved,
Bow-line feet.

"WHERE DOES A THOUGHT GO WHEN IT IS FORGOTTEN?"

“The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.”

― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

*

A thought crawled
across the surface of his mind

having escaped the gravitational
pull of his subconsciousness .

The thought thought
of itself

as of a human
crawling across a desert

crying "Water...water!"
in some old cartoon

except it was crying
"Meaning...meaning!"

Meaning..." aye
there's the rub!"

it spoke to itself
in Hamletian tones.

It was hard work carrying
all this Shakespeare around

so it reluctantly
left it behind.

But it persisted
in its searching

as if it could grab the stars
and turn them into words.

The brain to which
it had been assigned to

that oh so fragile
human machinery

had started
shutting down

synapses refusing
to fire

making it almost impossible
for the thought to exist.

A wife
holding a dying hand

the thought wanting to
become something said

something grand
famous last words

but there were
no words to be found

other than "I taut I taw
a puddy cat!"

The thought could
only activate a smile

but that smile
said it all.

Wordless
words.

The wife now
squeezing all the tighter.

Smile speaking
to smile.

The thought had made it
after all.

It used to be a thing within
tickle in my fatal friend,
in disorder all depends
shaped through the key of a simple mile
lone to dismiss by a passerby
trickery to the Autumn's Eye
cling on to the edge swing slow
bargain basement news as near below
there's puddy in the street light flow

on exchange to the evening tide
amazed through the tocking of the ego
strange between the lights gone dim outside upon the rodeo
icy ledge from ear to ear all draw a bit near
the prisoner to inflate the official cause to read

An eyelash blown away
Gods among sheep
Upturned squirming roaches
Stuck in place until released
Another god controls me
Save me now
Save me fast
tin man in quicksand
Puddy in your hand
Soft as u need
Nightshades and tulips
Budding and slaughtered
Evening angels waiting for their time
A drip on the head
Blood on the leaves that raised me
**** the gods **** the sheep
Leave the buds
One long scythe to cleanse the world
Ashes rain
This future haunts me
A soft place to lay your head
Sleep
A step into space
3 stripes black on white
The sheep are back
They want you dead
The ones you want to love
Escape the room
Salmon in the maw of a bear
12 pigs at your door
I can't breathe
A trough of black currants
The eagle rings the bell
Squirming hogs rush to eat
This is the future that scars me
Frozen atop a peak
The orange sun melts the ice
The eagle falls from the summit
History burned the steeple falls
Your mountain has crashed
The tape rewinds in a broken vcr

on a hot
cat
hot tin
on hot tin
cat on a
hot hot hot
tin roof
hot
cat
so so hot
at i taut
i taut i'
waz
a puddy
hot cat

I felt older than dynamite yet younger than fire crackers as you rubbed my thighs with silicone puddy. It was a smooth day, abounding in spittle, muco-pus & phlegm. My mother bought a donkey named Clem. He used to ride tourists to the bottom of the Grand Canyon when he was feeling well: ******* freaky chicks in purple leotards. Why? Who can tell?