Today you were like my hair,
wild and on a mission.
Tomorrow maybe you will be like my perfume,
spritz spritz spritz.
I am envious
even when you're ashy
and whirling in your catharsis.
You're beautiful when you're mad.
At dusk you are my favorite.
You bloom into fiery tulips and burnt hibiscus.
The sun falls
and takes with it your vividness.
The moon rises
and you fade into ghosts.

Hell is like waiting in a long line for the zoo
So this must be limbo...

Time stretches / skeleton skin skeins
The tock the tick / the clock
Sketches
Schizophrenic melancholia
Mockingly sickening
Traffic of panic / deafening
Time stales / takes Forever
A long while - in limbo
Zombie shock / mind akimbo

And loneliness is a box
This corpse sits in
As existence / outside frightful / persisting
***** and spritz-ing
Our vibrant thangs
Songs shouts to gang sign slangs
Even when the lyrics
Go deep
Six feet sorrow
Hip hopping to defeat

But we gots to love it
The life we have
The Flava and the savor this last dance .
Makes me wanna Dougie
Percolating / jump / criss cross
Vanilla bean / jump jump

But what is a song to a diminished bird
No cage more cruel than the loss of worth
Hearts depart from its soul
Jester / fools / without cheer
No cartwheels glee or clue
Happy days adieu
High times zero new
Birds to the sky / fist pump / guns
This is for the Razza
End what's done begun

Waiting to get thru
Theme parks colorfully masking
Reality's streets and truth
Inmates as we are forced to wait
Hate is quicker to arrive
Behind bars hollows Time
Takes our forever
Even waking up
Still in limbo / thirsty without a cup
Same ole system
Who's business makes slaves
Kept blind and silently afraid
Kept
In a state / of mindlessness
Now worse than before

Schitzo screaming schisms
Crazy IS the war
Fear wreaks havoc
Boom boom back to a room
In your head goes the bomb
Shrapnel wounded / half none...

Are we there yet?
Just farts in the wind
Waiting is hell / how does life begin?
Just passing by / passed away / a passerby
Yelling and complaining
Let me in ? Get me out ?
Ghost to life's boo hoo / poor you
What happens to dreams wasted
In the zoo
Eyes turned frozen
Cold uncaring
Dying and lying / lifeless stories to share
As beauty within is in despair
As beasts overcrowd the fair
Flotsam in limbo float
Alone in its killer cold
Time still passing / parole / on hold
Much hope

Where are we
If there is nothing
No penny for fairy tale wells

Wishes are dead in fountains
Rich and heavy to the bottom
With tossed currencies. Fell.
How will a coin speak
Who will ever know
If we do not paint out loud
The masterpiece of the dream?

Tell me dreamer what time do you have
Still waiting?

In this zoo...

When it always was and is
And always will be

Up to you.

Brush the dog tenderly
Create the time
Slowly, gently caress the cat
Doesn't it feel fine?

Stroke her jaw, her chin
Scratch around her ears
Feel her lean into your hands
For she has not words nor tears

Give your weary sweetheart
An attentive foot massage
Invest some time in affection
Praise her new hat or corsage
For a moment, be their reflection

Water your plants
Spritz the leaves, and a little new soil
Take just a minute
It's such an easy yet rewarding toil

Go for a slow walk with your beloved
Taste the evening air
Give her your ear
Visit a reflective place there

Create for her room to ruminate
About her aches and pains
About her ailing Uncle Bob
About her new job

Touch her cheek gently
On your pillow at night
Before your eyes they close
Before dreams so fleeting and light

Say something small, sweet and simple
About you and her and your heart
Not about that invoice or pimple
Or what you both need to dissect apart

For magical, hidden roots are growing!
Or languishing as they will
Simple, daily things nurture them
Not a one-time magic bullet or pill

Marlowe once said,
"Talk not of wasted affection!
  Affection never was wasted!"
Water the hungry hearts around you
And the juiciness of life
Will be the sweetest you've ever tasted

Plush beads of summer rain gently kiss the windows,
pitter pattering steadily in contrast
to the low hums and stutters
of the red coffee ***
that saves many souls
lost in a daze of former slumber;
a lengthy stretch,
she leans back against the cream,
or maybe more ivory,
sofa couch,
wiggling it up and down her frame
and in its last push
released with a crack through the tips of her toes.

scrumptious smells of eggs and breakfast meats,
brunch is always her
favorite hour,
balancing the crisp texture of toast
against the delightful spritz
of OJ,
sometimes blended with a splash of something
sparkling.

the chords and rhythms that thrummed and purred,
the puttering, the humming, the stuttering,
a baritone chuckle
escaping his smirking mouth,
the moment so inescapably
charming,
how satisfying their ritual felt.

Take a whiff of your death
As you spritz the liquid over your skin
The liquid that seeps in
You're not going to win

It intoxicates your idle mind
You'll do things you've never done
As it slowly eats into your bloodstream
You should never cross me

This little present will help me presently
Bringing your death to the present
As you collapse on the floor
Dead and reeking of regret

I wake up
45 minutes earlier
To pick out a pretty outfit
Not a "I really tried pretty"
,but a "I really tried to make it look like I didn't try
Pretty."
I crown myself with
One.. Two.. Three
Spritz of perfume
And inhale
As the mist
Dances
              To
                   My
                         Feet
Everyday
Just for the chance
Of being noticed
Please notice
I really want to sleep in tomorrow

the more outlandish and exotic the settings
the further apart the tides shift
the more real, the closer it gets



distance distilled into fallow tracts of once wild shores
despite crestfallen dips
high rising peaks




if you look through my window
what would you see?
perhaps the skein of illicit thoughts
tangling into Rapunzel hopes
or a latent emissary of a semi shocker prophecy
if you had but the merest inkling
of the unaccountable depth of warrior blood
coursing headlong for acquaintance
of fulfillment of spectacular intimacy




scrolling endless
rough, the visions
the significance of this equation
waiting to balance
upon the sills of petulant time
dares little panacea
for it is itself bound by hand and foot
chugging along the eyelashes of fate's decree




can I look through your window?
will I see a casual draping of Indian cloth
behind the deliberate anger that is you?
you cannot know how widely your tutelage
dripped steady
into a ready soul, ready for it all




often, how the mind does play tricks
it sometimes feels as if insouciance
plays center court on stilts
while I grapple confused, patiently
the large view may soon present itself



and I dream so of you
a ten minute watch on my shift
of medium term offering



I run away to the dreams within this packed arena
a still room
half in gentle shadows
she let me in
she told me you'd be here soon
to make myself at home
sweet rose incense in the inside courtyard
lulls my senses

I hate to feel scared
I almost hide away and lock myself
into a tiny closet or the bathroom
a strange room and I'm alone
I wonder where you are
all is ready
hot tisanes on a lacquered tray waits
the hand of one to come
seeming Bento boxes prepared so elegant
heartbeat high anticipate
goof guff, goof guff
shall I leave rather?


drowsy falls upon my eye
I settle down on settee
curl up by the slanted sunrays
throughout the patio door
fountain spritz of droplets
on nature's grey slate flat stones
lids flicker down, fall away
gentle, gentle, fall away
deeply away
relaxed


(a while..)


a light tap on the shoulder
fright awake!
who is that??
shudder into conscious reel

oh
ohhhhhhhh..................
I am here...........with you


disbelief floods my every pore
and rising slow, unsteady
and I smile at......... u

March 3, 2004**

It was a cool night. We sat bundled up sweat pants and hoodies. She lived in a trailer (a mobile home for those who dislike such terminology) on the outskirts of town, on a farm to market road that many blunts had been smoked on. One of our favorite activities was piling into my four door compact car and rolling up delicious strawberry Phillies or Swishers filled with half brown, half green **** of the earth bud. But that’s a different story…
Her parents and sisters were gone for the evening. The porch swing was situated in the backyard just outside the sliding door, beside the riding lawn mower, ratty trampoline which had been bounced on one million and one times (she even broke her tailbone on that stupid recreation device), and the newly constructed chicken coop. The swing creaked every time we swung, but we didn’t mind. I’m sure a small spritz of WD-40 would have cleared it right up but our teenage minds were incapable of such logical decision making.
It was not the first time we had partaken in such events and it certainly would not be the last. The canister was plastic, red, and a familiar sight for most. Anyone who uses a combustible engine fueled by such a horrific liquid knows what I speak of. However, when you’re sixteen and too broke to buy *** and too young to purchase alcohol and cigarettes, sometimes your options are limited. But we must have a vice. It’s a requirement for all humans, regardless of what some might say. Being the reckless young woman I was at the time, I had many of them, and honestly, I still do today. On this particular evening, the heavenly aroma of gasoline was both our friend and our savior. We would inhale and then pass the canister to one another, over and over again. Between the intense sessions of déjà vu and cat naps, our night was a blur. Incessant giggling and talks of silly adolescent affairs was all that occurred. The feeling of being somewhere you’ve been before a thousand times in a row is overwhelming and really makes one question the concept of time and experience. How can I be somewhere now and have been in the exact same position before? How can I experience something that has potentially never occurred because of the inhalation of a substance? It is quite boggling really. After exploring the realm of drugs extensively, it is quite odd to look back at a night in question like this and wonder how a substance can do what it did.
My best friend and I sat there for hours on end, inhaling and chatting. We would occasionally salvage a blunt roach to smoke on or steal a cigarette from her older sister or father. They were never my choice in brands but it’s difficult to be picky when you’re a thief. Up until this point in time, I had always enjoyed the aroma emitted from gasoline. However, this night would mark a change in perception.
The majority of what occurred is not only uninteresting but extremely hard to remember. Gasoline has a way of doing that… expelling memories from your brain in a whirlwind of déjà vu and uncontrollable nap taking. But, at some point in time we decided to take our little private party inside; perhaps because of the weather but more likely because of a lack of clear reasoning.
All I can vividly remember is that we both woke up to her father beating on the window of her bedroom to let him inside the house. We were both so startled by this event occurring that she knocked over the canister filled with the petroleum based product. Quickly scrambling to resolve the issue, we hid the gas can in her closet. We then looked at each other in pure disbelief over the situation. Not only was it scary but it was also quite amusing. The situations we would put ourselves in were always quite delightful, even when they were horrific beyond belief. We tried to muster up a plan of action but it was no use.
She then ran to unlock the door to let her dad in. The first thing he asked upon entrance into the house was, “Why does it smell like gasoline in here?” Obviously we did not have an adequate answer for him other than, “We don’t know, we were wondering the same thing,” The best part is that he never even questioned us. Why would he? We were just sweet teenage girls with smiles plastered across our faces because we had been huffing gasoline all ******* night.
On a night not too far in the future, we would partake in the same type of inhalation but because there was not a canister at my house, we would huff it straight from my grandma’s van. Our neighbor saw us doing it and called the police. For the rest of my grandmother’s life (six short months) she passionately believed that people in our neighborhood were trying to siphon gas from her Chevy Astro. She made me go to an auto parts store to purchase a gas tank lock to deter such activities. That marked the end of our gas huffing days.

shake shake shake

spritz spritz

a mosquito falls to the floor
I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death
they twitch in a frenzy
i am sad of what i have done but i know that it is better than being bitten
so above all their is beautie
in death
but do not get used to the daeth
or else you will enjoy kiling so be safe with your use of kemikals such as spritz

The anticipation leading up to this night.
Where you finally get to be with him.
You pamper.
You wax,
you highlight
every part of your body.
Doing your best to look amazing.
Dress to impress right?
Searching for the perfect outfit.
The perfect accssories to go with it.
And finally,
you are complete.
A spritz of perfume and one last
look in the mirror.
You wait.
Then, the noise you have been waiting for
all day happens.
You open the door,
and there he is.
In all his God-like
glory.
With that half smile you adore.
He takes your hand and leads you to his car...
And drives to the woods.
The doors lock.
You look at him.
He looks back.
In his eyes you see,
danger.
You see no sign of the playful glint that
you fell in love with.
He drives deeper.
Thousands of thoughts race you through your
mind.
Finally, he stops,
he goes to your door grabs you by the hair and
yanks you out.
Drags your thrashing body to a clearing.
You beg.
You plead
for him to spare you.
The man you fell in love with,
Who would've thought he is the one who ends it
for you?
He stops, grabs a rock by your bodies and
the one thing you think before it all goes black,
I Love You.
I Forgive You.
Close your eyes and embrace death.

Imaginary Diary

Wed, Oct 5, 2011

Back from the worst roadtrip of my entire life.  And an era ends as I sit ALL ALONE in this big empty house.  At least it isn't raining, so I can go in the backyard and build a big fire to cry in front of...


Here Be Me

out fades the fire, no longer reaching higher, merely old and tired, moved on from trying to crying, an era ends, and how to begin again?

yet death has not yet stolen the last breath, hope and prayers still befriend the living, and everyday miracles may still find the giving...


alone is a strange energy
almost alien to me
although it didn't used to be

lone wolf howls again?
prowls again?

kaleidoscope of feelings,
how to make meaning?

I like Me as much or more
than ever before
and I no longer keep score

lone wolf howls again?
prowls again?

hurt but not quite reeling,
what's the meaning?
can I manage the damage?

I scream
You scream
We All scream
for Ice Cream
but that does not balance the beam
does not quite Amen the dream.

And now my life changes again
rearranges yet again
Lone Wolf?


Thurs, Oct 6, 2011

"I mourn not moving into another decade, but at the end I've been betrayed, not good enough, not enough stuff, not the right house in the right city. given everything I could, done anything I can, but not trusted, accused of acts I did not commit, abandoned and alone again, except for the responsibilities, and bills, and animals, and an empty house full of stuff, and memories of what was supposed to be" -- miscellaneous anonymous old divorced dude


Have you ever noticed how close onesome is to lonesome and that together rhymes with forever?



Fri, Oct 7, 2011

Heart Broken yet again,
  far from the 1st time...
I know what to do
  & kinda how to do it,
    I guess...


****, this is going to take some serious time!!!!
(can I manage the damage)


How far is far enough?
How future is future enough?

head hanging down
  as does the soul inside
face fallen in a frown
  as the heart's tears are cried

looking & leaning above the abyss
  living the loss that leaves less
refusing not to feel this
  there shall be no numbness

hurt too many times
  to soothe with mere rhymes
but healing always happens
  hope never dies a final death
(I can manage the damage)


How far is far enough?
How future is future enough?

Once or so upon sometime
  boy met girl
    and his world went whirl.
Stars sent sparkles through the smog,
  moonlight went right through the fog.

And they asked Clint,
  what's so different?
And his simple silly smile said,
  are you really so numb dumb in the head?

Are you really only able to see
  the fine firm exquisite curves outside
and not the even more amazing beauty
  singly sweetly from the soul inside?

Just look closely
  into gorgeous intensity
    get swept into a deep brown sea
      and wonder at the world she sees!

And when you linger longingly on those luscious lips,
  don't just wish for a tender hot kiss.
Want the soft breath-touch of her spirit,
  and the words within which you'll hear it!

They may not realize what I see,
  but those eyes have looked at me.
And I sit in the dark and wonder,
  could my spark ever touch her?


When can it be Then again?

Because if a guy is extraordinarily lucky, every decade or two he might meet someone as amazing as you.  And if he has the chance to become more than friends, he HAS to try to make that reality.  If not, he HAS to know you in whatever way possible, as deeply as possible, to enrich his Life & Soul!


Flirting

Emotions mixing like potions
Imaginings made more potent
Did you see her?  She looked at me!  A lot!  We smiled with our eyes and our lips and our words and it was real!  It may have meant more to me than it did to her, but it was still real!


Somewhen

Wonderings About A Wonderful Woman

Dipping a heart in the Rush
     of the early life of a Crush.
Past the point when you'd just met
     & maybe not even spoken yet.

It's after you know there's something about her
     that's at the awesome end of special.
When you want to know all about her,
  learn the glow within the sparkle!

You find yourself wanting way less waiting
     between the moments you get to see her
and you're always antsy anticipating
     the next time you're able to talk to her.

You hope for her Happy
     and pray to be a part of it,
       an important part!

You ache to ask her for a date
  and hear her say okay, great!
You wish that that beginning
  turns into every evening
until oh so soon
  on an unknown afternoon
you both find you're destined
  to be much more than friends!

And inbetween the start and that part
  as you learn to hear each others' heart
there are a millionish questions about her
  you can't wait for time to answer...


Does she like mexican food?
  and sushi too?
Will she gag if you call her dude?
Has she ever done Mongolian BBQ?

Has she ever searched for seashells
  between the incoming swells?
Does she like getting flowers?
  What's her favorite flower?!

Does she like skating
           swimming
          whistling
           hiking?

Does she have brothers?
sisters?
younger?
  older?

Has she ever fallen on her **** in an ice rink?
  or played in the snow til your fingers can't think?

Does she love road trips
  for the destination
    and all you may learn/see
      along the journey?

Where has she travelled?
Where does she want to travel?

Does she like sharing dreams
  the moment you awaken?
When it still seems
  they really did happen?
                        
What animals does she love?

Mittens or gloves?

Does she love hugs?
  LONG hugs?!

Is she ready for me to want to stare at her
  (mmmmm, have you seen her?)
And does she know how
  to keep hearing “WOW”?

Does she like reading poetry?
  especially when it's about her / inspired by her

Will we share the joys and traumas
  the sillys and dramas
    that have made us us?


Will she excitedly show
  all of her old photos?

Does she believe in GOD
  and ghosts
  and eternal souls
  and True Love?

Has she ever prayed for me?
Does she know I've prayed for her?

Will we show not just our strengths
  but also our weaknesses?
Tell our awes
  and our flaws?
Share our laughs
  and our tears?
Whisper our hopes
  and our fears?
Even though it allows the other to truly see
  and brings tender vulnerability?

Will she let me provide what help I can
  for not only wants, but also needs
can she depend on this man
  for not only wants, but also needs
can she accept every effort from Clint
  and still know she's independent?


Does she like:

  --cuddling huddling together beside the fire, wrapped beneath the same blanket, holding hands, somtimes speaking softly about memories, hopes, fears, desires, sometimes simply staring at the spastic random wild dancing of the flames while listening to the crackles & pops & the night sounds from just beyond the circle of light?

  --a lazy afternoon on a summer beach, toes digging in the hot sand, breeze blowing sunshine across the skin, waves waiting to be watched and frolicked in?

  --being at the beach on a damp winter's day, sitting on a lifeguard tower just out of the reach of the rain, sometimes wondering at the miracle of the wild waves, dark and frothy, whipped by the wind to lunge upon the shore and race towards the tower only to tire and recede once more into the tide. Sometimes basking in the heat of each others' hands, eyes, lips & kiss, flying in the feeling?

  --walking along the beach in the moonlight of a still-warm summer's eve, holding hands as we wade in the waves, toes tingly with the spritz of the sparkling water?

  --watching a sunrise fill the skies of a desert dawn?
  --watching the sun set as it dives from the clouds, drops behind the mountaintop?

  --camping in the mountains, or by a lake, miles and miles from the encompassing glare of the city lights, within our private tent at midnight, comfy cozy cuddled close within 2 sleeping bags zipped into  1, marvelling at the stars spread out above the mesh ceiling?

  --walking hand-in-hand in a light rain laughing at the secret which only we know, that this cool warm drizzle, this tingle-mingle mist is the perfect place to kiss?

  --Las Vegas after dark?
  --reading to each other in the park?
  
  --short romantic messages?
  --exchanging random massages?

  --live comedy?
  --movie matinees?

  -- what's her favorite type of TV?
          comedy/drama/reality?
          food/cartoons/nature documentary?

  --a comfy couch where we fall sleep curled together with a shared blanket and maybe even some spilled popcorn?

  --disneyland?

  --silly errands at 1am?

  --talking through the night until the dawn?

  --sharing a shower, the water cascading across her unbelievable beauty, caressing every curve, glistening on her sweet sensuous skin and driving me deliciously delirious with desire?


What is her favorite color?
What is her favorite thing about her?

Who is her oldest friend?
            her best friend?

If she had one wish, totally selfish, just for herself -- what would it be?

Fuzzy PJ's or naked under a soft warm blanket?

Would she dance with me at home
  just the two of us
where we can be dorky
  or not good
    and just have fun?


Does she realize the HER of her eyes
           her smile
           her glow
           her lips
  the dreams of her fingertips?

Does she know that as impossibly amazing as it may seem
  my instincts sing to me
  that she's even more beautiful on the inside
  than she is on the outside?
  And have you SEEN her outside????

Would she want to hear me say
  you're sweet smart funny beautiful and hot, mmmmmmm  HOT
    and you will find True Love & Happyness
      because You Deserve It!

Does she want someone to want her
  emotionally spiritually physically?
Does she want them to wonder what she wants
  discover her innermost inner?
Want them to desire her joy
  so she can be joyous?
Does she want them to want to kiss her all over,
  caress her everywhere,
  squeeze her perfect *** with ultimate passion,
  dream of her arms and awesome legs around them,
  her bare ******* pressed against their chest,
  sing themselves to sleep with images of her lips,
  and imaginings of her sweet sweet kiss?
  

And maybe if we're lucky
  or meant to be
Somewhere in there
  “like” blossoms
    becomes Love!

Secretly?Tall=Tower-fee lucky
777 "I'm Free"-Flowery + $$$

Being Oz-wizardly
Toto lucky bite red slipper
((Cowardly)) Lionly
-Whoa_ She got that Geisha Irony
This is Tokyo
Not the flower shop of Soho

(( Japan Chefs Black Panthers))
Shout box

Unique flowers of
faces-gather
Too outfox

One Geisha Flowery room
Twilight-places lightly bloom

Overpowering
Sunflower showering
Going nowhere
Her body heat
Is always
somewhere

Over flowered the rainbow
magic women
romantically spritz and spray
Love me love me not
I am waiting today

Flowered over one
Man?
Her Fortune-beds
The Geishas fine ink
Never pink
The best time to arrive
See her lucky red
((Geisha Flowery))
*        *        *        *
Happy go lucky
Not the back rub

The gift of gab
Time feast Rolex
her index finger
Webs of flower cut
Debs

Was the cover-up
The best of the last
defeat of her
She Petals faster
The  zipper-movie cut
Go zip
Irish spring shower

Boysenberry, Cherry, Power
Geisha dance flowery-trick
The vanilla-bean sky quick
The yogurt Greece fly
Her tablecloths
He finger
points cactus sharp points

The climate tells the
clues can you handle tricks
Crazzzzy_
glue
Softly silk skirt steak
Missed a few buds
((Geisha Flowery funds))
Tantalizing tiara pull
Off gave it  to the
flower girl china doll

The music
Black Magic
women
Her sheer blouse
loosely fit his fancy

Playing Santana
Sitting with her
tea tiger lily
Felt so lonely

The champagne
half-heartedly
The whole Monet
Chandon
shirts
of Gucci

She's perked me
up Pucci *******
coo
Danger me dandelions
The next recruit
black rose pin
pursuit hungry like
wolf
Duran Duran

The discovery of
custard flan
The Geisha flowery
New York State
Who snitched out
her spouse
Flowers divinity Godly lands

I gotcha
Right in the palm
of my hands

We were a little too formal
as I gave you the usual tour of the house
that my mother would not approve of
and we were a little awkward
as I laid down next to you because
I was ready to jump into whatever this was
but at the same time it made me hesitate
because this was the first time.

The first time:
we’d ever gotten this close
and
I’d gotten to really feel
the way your muscled arms clenched
a little when you put your arm around me
and
I looked into your eyes
and you were looking straight back at me
without telling a joke or jabbing my sides
and you were serious
and I was nervous
but I kissed you anyway.

We were still slightly sweat-glistened
from mopping the dingy
and eternally sticky floors at work
but I liked the way
that I breathed you in
and it was a mix
between your quick spritz of cologne
when you thought I wasn’t looking
and your natural musky scent
that was exactly how I imagined you would smell
when I sat just far enough away
in the passenger seat.

We were a little too eager
and
your hands were a little too fast
to throw my tank top to the floor
and unhook my favorite bra
and
you were a little too fast
to get me exposed
despite our hesitations initially
but
I was a little too fast
to kiss you harder
to let you know that
I didn’t give a ****
about the lipstick that lingered
on your slightly swollen lips
and I wanted more
than just to rub my clothed body
against yours.


*August 5, 2014
11:55:19 PM

A woman at the market today
had obsidian eyes that tilted like
orbits grappled and shook
by a toothleth toddler.

I dropped an orange,
imagining the spritz coming
from the eye and into my mouth,
and for a moment of a moment the
rubber floor nudged at my heels with a sneer.

*** herself not once touched me,
nor lured her invisible tongue
across my intestines, yarn for
barbed wire.

She stood at the register
with a green (I'd like to call ribboned)
apron and ironed, white shirt,
smiled at me when I was
fumbling for 2 quarters--

worth a cent more for my time
when I stumbled away.

Only Sometimes
•Sometimes I whine 
When after all 
I'm just drunk on alcohol
And In reality I didn't get to lick her 
I didn't get to kiss her 
I thought adding apple pucker 
To my gin 
Will pretend to be her lips 
But it was only a sip 
•Sometimes I whine 
When it's time to unwind 
And I spritz perfume in the air
And through the midst of it all I realized
That the scent didn't come from off of her skin 

Sometimes I pout 
When I remember the way in which she denounced 
Leaving me to be without 
I don't know how to withhold 
When I'm alone 

So sometimes my mouth tremble 
When I have to settle 
I don't want to, but 
I'm trying to get better 

And sometimes I'm a grouch 
Excuse some of the things that blurt out of my mouth 
It's hard being compatible to the last resort 

Sometimes I beg 
"Please come back to put a end to my dread" 
I don't care if when I leave she feels mislead

Sometimes I'm sad
And to cover it up I brag 
Manipulating my hads to haves anyone who know the whole truth 
know that I'm a lie and a half 

Not all the time I have a way to cope 
Sometimes I can't try
Sometimes I just cry

I remember saying to you, "I want you SOOO bad!"
I want all your parts, the light and dark, I want you even after so long
even though you're gone I want you
like a kid wants to see Santa on Christmas eve, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive man, not even questioning his validity
I want you like hot fudge on ice cream, the perfect compliment to my frigid self loathing, hot and sweet covering every inch, making me melt, I want you like the bros at the gym want gains
out of this world gains, hard work pays off gains
the protein to your muscle, stronger than the weight on your shoulders, I want you the way a tree buds and grows its leaves into the most lush escape, only to send them off with the most colourful goodbye awaiting their return in the spring, I want you like my dog wants food
and let me tell you one singular thought fixates his mind, and that is eating
I want you like an soft song played on the strings of a perfect evening, while we slow dance in the dark
I want you like an ice cold beer on a hot summer day! the spritz of the cap, bubbling with anticipation, the sweat forming on the bottle dripping down your finger as you touch it to your lips and then,
ahhh pure refreshment, quenching my Sahara thirst
I want you like how green grass, and shrubs and flowers and trees all grow towards the sun, innately seeking the heat source of life, the very sustenance that keeps them alive, I want you
like the air
all around me, I wanna feel you permeate every cell in my body, wanna feel you expand my lungs, and pump my heart, fire neurons in my brain sending electric signals to every muscle tingling my nerves
I want you like the first snowfall
magical and nostalgic, cozy and beautiful
I want you the way I wanna write poetry that saves lives, the way I want the words to build themselves with every pen stroke and speak to you, I want you the way no one has ever wanted me
worth the effort, if you would just try to see I could build a universe around us, so we would have our own stars that shine for our eyes only, and we would never miss a chance to watch the beauty of our stars crossing the sky,
I want you with feelings, and that uncomfortable "communicating" thing that I do so well for a living but struggle to do with you, I want you raw and exposed
our souls bared, a connection even fully clothed, I want you so bad
was all that I could muster under that gin soaked cloak of bravery
I should have said, that all I really wanted
was for you to want me too

They wave, "Hello" at the slightest breeze,
they are the wild flowers
of the valley, oh the tease,
they have minor powers,
like they are able to please and bring smiles,
to an empty face whose heart has a need,
to know there is something more fragile,
willing to brighten a day
with a splash of this colour
or a spritz of that shade, something
that only a flower has...
a place where love stems from,
a place to hold budding emotions,
and a place at the center of attention,
like your needs, your wants, your heart,
and my sacrifice to be surety forever in
a greeting, in the first meeting, then falling
for you.

©DWE112013

When I came to pick you up
You were a beauty to behold
I walked you out to my Pinto
And even opened up the door

I know your thinking what a gentleman
But alas your thoughts they do escape me
With the creak of my door hinge so loud
I knew I should have WD-40'd

So you wouldn't tear your dress on the seat spring
I covered it with my Mothers favorite towel
I can see by the look that's in your eyes
I've really won you over now

I'm sorry the AC is out
As I spritz cool water in my dash fan
Is that you blinking in Morse code
You da man! You da man! You da man!

I only dine at the finest cuisine
Can't wait till you see what I did
Reservations at Red Lobster babe
I'll even help you put on your lobster bib

I strike up a conversation
Tell you all about my life, my dreams, my job
I continue talking, never mind the food in my mouth
At this point all you here is blah,blah,blah,blah,blah

A world of filtered communication
Silver screens and robotic dreams
Our heads filled with visions of false identities
Ambiguous, superficial
Ludicrous, artificial
Mounting themselves above our fireplaces
We live the way we are raised to live
We see what we are taught to see

A flushed salmon rushes upstream
Thrashing and bruised when Ha'nih catches him
We thank the Gahonga, we break, we eat
The tumultuous quiver of the earth
As a spritz around the fire ensues
Peace, essence, and comfort is the way of life
We live the way we are raised to live
We see what we are taught to see

Have you ever noticed life is a repetitive set of circumstances
one follows the other, with what seems to be a never ending
path of destruction, or blessing.
For what seems like a decade it has been raining a drizzle here
a spritz there. Enough to make me damp but not enough to soak me through.
As of late say the last two year I have been in a repeating cycle of a tropical depression.
Recently my heart was broken by the only woman I would trust with .
So as I started this statement (for this aint not poem) when it rains it pours but in
My case the ***** stole my umbrella.
So take this for what it is love it or hate it these are the nonsensical ramblings of a heart broken fool to lost in his own storm to see the light of day, longing for peace and for god sakes a little sunshine wouldn't hurt.

down the stairs, where the creak-feet of descent
will silence a cricket in the room; there with couch
and the bookstand, oak and glass....
sedate features; the odd bust of an Inuit matriarch-
staring at your blouse like it were forged
in blasphemies and trade winds.
down there, where we keep the cat riveted to the headlights
of our armored car.

in the seam

the coffee table is strewn, right down the middle
with old magazines and straw placemats.
a stain that never fades,
stands in the garden of cigarette butts and dog-eared -
post-it notes
to a glass scarecrow.
a mound of bric-a-brac
and fingerprints.

it's sticky
where two people
made the love
that made the mess...

but it's hollow where they never met.
and you can see the carpet through the permafrost.
our lens
immune to domain.
free to see the whimsy
in a spot of bother
about a broken
heart.

down where the television skin is the thickest. our ironic muse.
just a spritz of cultured sabotage,
and the good sense to go mad
without disturbing the peace....
the same peace that almost -
cost us the war.

at the very least.

Ibycus Rachelae to my Armoured Vest
Inject onto me that addicting Spritz
Hoping, which my Muse from the Plym comes best
Return my Calls despite everyday Blitz
How Secret, should be that whirly-curled Tail
Twice length your Form cuddle your Evening's Wrap
And when she comes, promote your Heart's avail
Respond to your Tube; And lick-out the Sap
Green, red-banded, was it enough to lure
And bind essential fluids to your waste
Your slime's head recall; Sate potency pure
And bid her offspring from your pride at haste.
Listen, shy snail. Expose your Calciumed House
For her to Respect your True Feelings' douse.

“give me your linguistic promiscuity”^ Cyrano to Roxane

trifle me not with sugar and spice,
give me salt, and everything not nice,
Campari, with a spritz of lime bitters, doubling,
the bitter sexiness of your taste buds
on the private parts of mine mind

the body’s parts held a conference,
who is the most important of us all,
all spoke, touting their unique servicing functionality,
at last, lastly, the tongue spoke

“none so powerful as this itty bitty muscle-me,
for with a chosen-few, well claimed, words whispered,
can put all of us in a prison cell to rot collectively,
utilizing my linguistic promiscuity, enticements seductive

so beware the disastrous dissatisfied tongue,
needy for 24/7 accoladed attention,
fail to worship can result in bee stinging poetry,
and jealousy

my love is bitter, my taste buds glory in this wondrous horror”

except for my Roxane


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