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May 2020 · 172
I'm being stung by bees in the snow.

my pants fill with air

my pocket takes warmth from fingertip

four numb

very touching and very moving
sentiment from twenty years of last century

taking warm rocks from the unsettling effigy

ingesting them

it is too painful she tells me

a ram's horn

being stung by bees in the winter

chewing on dolphin meat in the summer

the beach is glass
the salt boils

my soles bubble
yellow cloud pushes me up

I glide on the hooves
in my new pelt
it's high midnight and I'm up to my old tricks again

in an hour I'll have my nose prepared
in two, I'll sweat and pray

praying the windows I opened last year give way to Carolina air

me chewing an ice cube
with you pressing my shirt

and a shiver breathes into me

it's a funeral, you tell me

in twelve hours time I ask you how I got here

another hour and it's your voice
causing me to laugh from my belly

pounding my fists into your tombstone

too angry to light my cigarette

the willow hides the moonlight
sheds no tears on this chapter

the willow hides night sky
a reflection from my dark eyes

they warble in fear

for the sound my heart is like to make

it's three years later
chewing soil from your grave

the worms but ash

my heart
a muted trumpet

pale imitation
crystalline defeat

silhouette of a cursed shade

it's five years and the marble runs smooth

it's ten years and the willow roots join mine

a legacy of agony
countless copper dishes of bitterness

thirteen years a testament of longing and needless suffering

every smile bled to death
every night a star turned inside out

it's two years ago and I hear your name
up there with sentiment, sweet kiss gifted

mine eye, the milky scar

now none know Fall without pain

nuzzle nuzzle
loneliness struggles

with bright worms

lush snow blesses death

together now

our song in dark soil
shrieks and tears

together now
hope it seems missed much
Apr 2019 · 227
just like yesterday
wake up today
feels like you
bruised and ******

just like today
felt like yesterday
is that pain

truth and drugs



i've changed

it's hate
change dad
dad change
Apr 2019 · 280
large explosion (true love)
bag of ash in the air
one tin can
wrap each pipe with roots
dig up the mint
this one's for you Andrew.
"to say I love you"

tears walk away from my heart

a new series of terror

you hold fifty one vials of my blood

loving you and waiting

something ****** the soil

the cattle continue missing organs

it's too much to drive

the pastor says he's been waiting for me

it's pretty much what you choose now

blue eyes
fruit only the river could hold

we chew onions from the Amish

one week later and I'm not strong enough

we eat

summer withdraws her claws

twelve wives and eight of them pure

it's your choice the pastor says again

that prophet speaks into my perfect ****

it's the neighbors next I'm told

and thanks for asking


fifteen years later and there ain't a bullet which could take me down

it's two lines for every buck I don't have

there's a look now


convinced it ain't me touching


into the red clay

tarnished steel coos

brassy nose learning to mask a smile

it's twenty two to life he tells me

these sins you commit, it'd be worth it

try as i smile
he breaks my resolve

it's ten years ago and you ask where'd I lose that tooth

that barn all but burnt

it's four years and death threats

threats but none so close

a gift you told me

a promise comes later

after the flower for the pence

after the deathwish
it's but the only wish

I killed you a long time ago

it's just a bag of trash

inside are things unwanted

with that out of my chest

i ask replace it

with an old sweet dream

it's the wolves' fangs
a sight akin to my bladder losing itself

and it's your smile
that contains my heart


­covered in a sheet of ice
thinking for so long the morgue was where i'd finish my first smoke
life burns out and death moves forward
a war is won with footsteps retreated, muddy & unaccounted for

it was my horse's tooth

'tis not that legendary silver fang

even now i taste you
weak and acrid in my happiest cups

much to remove


being such a series of

flashing lights

barking and hollering

defending and pleading

resurfacing and resurfacing
I'll waste your memories
it's high midnight and I'm up to my old tricks again

in an hour I'll have my nose prepared
in two, I'll sweat and pray

praying the windows I opened last year give way to Carolina air

me chewing an ice cube
with you pressing my shirt

and a shiver breathes into me

it's a funeral, you tell me

in twelve hours time I ask you how I got here

another hour and it's your voice
causing me to laugh from my belly

pounding my fists into your tombstone

too angry to light my cigarette

the willow hides the moonlight
sheds no tears on this chapter

the willow hides night sky
a reflection from my dark eyes

they warble in fear

for the sound my heart is like to make

so if it'd make you stay
I wouldn't act so angry all the time

it's three years later
chewing soil from your grave

the worms but ash

my heart
a muted trumpet

pale imitation
crystalline defeat

silhouette of a cursed shade

it's five years and the marble runs smooth

it's ten years and the willow roots join mine

a legacy of agony
countless copper dishes of bitterness

thirteen years a testament of longing and needless suffering

every smile bled to death
every night a star turned inside out

it's two years ago and I hear your name
past and pleasant
fleeting present
Sep 2018 · 4.4k
a lake of blood is promised

homes fill with fiber optic prophecy.

"put away your lenses children and sleep under the lamp's shade."

our purple rice growing

Vishnu mumbles and stirs in his sleep.

by the crystal pond, a poison frog sings.

decorating the sand and reeds are skeletons of the old wars.

nearly dust now.

unable to make decisions for the weak or young, the strong or the old.

four seasons yet to pass

attention given to the wolf's lonesome cry.

place your head in sand,
witness the scorpion.

she is
emperor and admonisher.

the tiger breathes in and breathes out its final breath.

lay your belly upon wheat and remove hunger.

an angel's velvet wing cools the fever,
the old sickness of Old Salem.

onions, apples & lemons are sprouting.

there, just underneath the horseman's hood.

quickly, look.
happy birthday sweet prince

I splash my blood across my father's new *******

a woman now

his liver is thin

and his new lover

(he is whispering as he rapes me)

is an image of my brother

remove his cartridges alone and place the bullets in my heart

my mother cries

and my father mumbles to himself

i rise from the grave

remove my father's gums

i place my teeth in his mouth

and i collect sinew from my unborn brother

i order my father into the ground

i dash his newborn's face into a **** stained alley

i ask for my father's
full name, date of birth
his mother's most exciting fetish

with another larvae from my father's womb

another show of strength
here now i have absolute strength


a man came to me as a child
and that same man told me

enter me and you will love nothing but me


my mother and my father become a new awe.

into the soil a beautiful odor blossoms

where there was a palm of lilac,
a scene of gore.


where was an earful of ichor or
crested display of lilac?

my mother and i cry on her grandfather's grave

it is my first day free from prison
a great very loud exclamation

i remove what i feel to be an artery from leg

high up
above the knee
above the thigh

near my groin i bleed

and my mother does not see my pain

change of tone

change of pace

the undertaker is *****
the commitment is difficult

alas pride beckons
truth denies me

my own blood speaks and disgusts me

closing of my legs in 2029

with my father's ******* between my teeth

with my father's teeth swirling around my tongue

with my brother's cord now inside me

with my mother's tears on her grandfather's grave

with my unborn brother.


with my son
with the one i love


i enjoy the moment
i do not splash my blood across my father's *******

i do not ingest my unborn brother

change of tone
change of pace

i am not released from prison.

i have not been released from prison

a second part beckons.

i continue consuming serpent's droppings.

my spider's egg-sac continues singing.

a terrible wave of violence.

my father's teeth swirl over,  altogether across my tongue.

into my pallette.

my new-york strength fighting.

a terrible wave of violence.

my father's new ******* between my teeth
and my splashes of blood on his hand-me-down mantle.
Mar 2018 · 227
where is my brother?
a noodle for breakfast
one egg for supper

insult me winter
double my riches summer

years require
I say no

did not go
will not go

what is this friend?
coral statue refinish
cement for cheap

a fair price liar

one child makes time

what are you?

a plus
bee minus

sixty over one-hundred

the jail waits
the hospital does too!

sloppy ***
unwanted, ****** up kids


during my last concert
a man interrupts

I demolish my wrists & splash blood across his face
interrupt me again.
Feb 2018 · 330
The Competive Denial
I cry

I cry without stopping

infidelity known.

she speaks.

a swarm is simply a swarm

I nod
blood spills from my ear.

a lance.

a knife to a fight.

short of a trophy
I prove myself.

star of track of field

six in the morning child


alas they say memories swing round

bad off

NATO orders my artillery to leave

(all of his connections)

(all of his corrections!)

its fingers
its denim

sweet sickly

the need to taint
its need to taint

of rose

of lace

and the nauseous chariot

I hear a man tell me to lower my pants

five fifty child molester

rumors of a wasp's nest.

Climb dig and burrow.

Four people become one warhead.

a family forgets it is first

a weld forgets it bonds

still a spider.

suspend my fangs

a jar



states away a kiss mimics a drone.

darker no.
now darker yes.

with shameful splashes we recover.
Gather and mourn in a corner.

a drink? a meal?

Yes, his favorite.

Her favorite.


First chew. Through salt and oil.
Find there the meat.

Excrement rots?

Or does it sink?


now our tears join.

With sodium we are one.

I'm drinking your blood
and you are doing many thing to drink mine

Chaos on this doorstep.

With you tonight.

remembering twenty five years ago

a signature is needed

a window to nail close.
a match to ignite
and a legacy to squabble over

life shines
i give birth
his mother
and i

and I'm praying he sees the same flake fall twice for the first time

and I'm praying he enjoys courdory

and I'm praying he has my mother's green eyes

and I'm praying he has my will

and I'm praying he knows my grandparents loved

and I'm praying he has my father's eye for beauty

and I'm praying he never knows where I came from

and I'm praying I haven't witnessed too many falling stars

and I'm praying I've not broken a heart

and I'm praying

i know it's wishful thinking

see thirteen species go extinct
see my mother cry
gnaw on iron bars
give more than have
gain a scar
smother an infant
bury a corpse
live their life
stroke hair

enjoy peeled grapes and tomatosoup with no vomiting

destroy a legacy

I reach into a wet trashbag
I feel hair and bone

I clean up and I grow up

myself molested
myself molded

a ******



and now it was eleven

twenty two?

then I wake up
and I forget

(hoping this would always **** me)

and I want to know why
I guess that's life.
Ask yourself among your cups.
Or ask yourself twenty years sober.
Ask yourself "Why did Robert Carroll Spear remove himself from my life?"
Cry hot tears. Give yourself to that embarrassing gulping for air.
Words always hurt.
And my emptiness is a metric of pain I thought to be impossible.
Maybe I'll cheer up.
Phil, Peg, Andrew, Caleb and Sarah, these are my last words to you.
I will never forget you.


If I were ever given the opportunity to forgive you,
I'd turn away and live my life as if I never knew you.

Choke on those chunks of flesh you've removed from other people.
I chew still and methodically the fatty lumps you five have left behind.

Jan 2018 · 313
the sun shows me a scar

the sun shows me fruit

fruit to feed

fruit I enjoy

and fruit I feed men and women with

my great grandmother dies

and I look at the priest

and I ask the cleric for ink

are they one or are they same?

and I do not cry
And i do wish remember

once I grew

and twice I fed my heart

thrice gnawed at muscle


seven times I felt the wound rot

forty two times I said no

alas, one thousand...


or were it moments?

there is a mother somewhere


of love I gave


of love I've not let go

I find among the sirens, a son of a mine

his eye crystal blue

his eye green

unlike mine

a sapphire

I offer this to you

I did offer

I am one. I am one who does.....


and father

is it my own hand?
is it a devil's?

the answers I will find
god I would, if only

it is cold
just enough

to let go

and a reproduction

of my own *****

oh a lion watching bulldozers

as the lion he grows

and god please no

i know I'll exclaim

when razor meets wrist and i

will let go

mother I remember

your worry stone

the precious mineral

by your hand
and by mine

a hole grew

tonight I practice what I've preached


I had a home
I knew love
I was loved
I did lie
I was hurt
I fought back
I protected

I will continue
i love you
Nov 2017 · 246
patron saint of undress
pray tell which soul needed conquest
Nov 2017 · 265
your leather pleasure
He names the vice
I name the price
With this we find

I refrain

Comfort for me
Replace these words with love
and we discover happiness

And you

and I become

Beautiful charred emotion

Pulled from that molten shore of an early earth

This will never end because I want more

If we had a brain we could regret
If we had a heart we would heal

Nay the spring slash summer pulls us internal

Nay it's you

So curious

And so evocative

Of man of
Of a soul

Still a flea

A voice here could want to sing

There in this polymer quietness

Bite my tongue, tear it out
Blink an eye

Unearthed that knowledge

I'm running out of time

And you run

And I'm still running for my life

I was fifteen
I was twenty four
I was eight and almost thirty

Me now eternal

And I'm still running for my life
Mar 2017 · 448
Final Skin
thy hymn of rot

accept blood and broken glass.
thanking old lords.
hiding my bruised shoulders.
a pint of blood when I smile.
radiance allows me another sip.
cold water.

a witch hunt.
missing the scar and gnawing.


appeal to consequences of a belief.

and sadly, you beautiful angel, this is your ******* life. what was it i always said? Priorities. Get your ******* priorities in order. Stay away from *******, ashtrays and *****. The pain you feel is a lesser. The pain you are causing and will continue to cause to others is a measurement beyond. And in ten years or four or three or five maybe eleven if this site is up or if i dexide to make the effort and transfer these poems... well maybe then you'll ******* realize all the people youve not only hurt but you'll see how let down we all are. I'll be dead and gone by the time you read this. Think of someone other than yourself you spoiled brat.
Quickly my heart could beat
If the memory returned

One involving the mechanism
And the light and no


It fades


a tire screech and I wake

Listening to music nearby
Dec 2016 · 381
open mouth swallow pride
Fight iron. Adjust the day's kick.
And kick and scream.

Dance, sing and shake
If necessary.

True love waits
It spins

(it spits)..
. . . . . . . . divine

But no one ever
sang or rhyme

My face blisters and bubbles
the collector at (of) midnight

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

my cupboard opens
my mask yes, sanitized
. . Me. .

What is love without us?

And draw the feeling of...

my voice sinking, falling

finally screaming at the bottom


outside in the courtyard
a raíndrop
collects all my thoughts

a brain spills
the owner shocked

remove your second tongue tie
speak clear

without a tear to drown your eyes
And rhyme
A lash
A tune the wrong way
Without a drop near a well
Dec 2016 · 295
No drive
Answers with many many words
Dec 2016 · 465
Battery crucibilums. Épreuve. Light staples the individual.
Remotion kernels reunion.
Alkali services and Malsenior
Kansas leases itself against nervous favor.
When will the weak shame the strong?

When will we raise our flags and place your chubby skull on the pole?

They say shame is the anchor but I'm just floating.

Very unable to find better adjectives for use in my poems about death.

How dare I call this love and not bear their wounds.

In other words....

Are you the man now?

Now that you got what you wanted?


Let it be known...

Something...  Something...

(turns into someone else)

Oh yeah, you can have it.
If it means that much.

You may have it.

Don't let me stop you now.

(if it means that much to you)

But let it be known...

(it hurts?)

Oh oh...

Gurgle gurgle.


Let it be known.  

(don't let me stop you now)

If it means that much to you bloodsucker.

Let it be known that
this is what you'll get
when you fall
out of line.


Don't let me stop you now.

Stretch me out.

On the table.

Turn my insides out.

Turn me into someone else.

Someone more like yourself.  

Bloodsucker I wonder..

(knowing, doing now)


And no one wins..

But let it be known.

You are the man now.

Are you the man now?
Just lyrics.  Rearranged. Just me. Just me being angry but not violent.
Nov 2016 · 393
Yes Gives Into No
I see no end in a silent thicket no one sees me.
The thorns quiet.

Elevate my head and rotate my neck.
A blue twig blue with age and flame.
Blue for the message I did not receive.
A sound is etched.
Carnivals full of life, a maiden's fair breast.
Ancient tablature.
Fitting the lens.
Moving filth with tilt and focus.
An oar for each digit.
And each digit pulled from ore.
Children of a prometheal defecation.


Perceiving all I can touch.
Cut the red carpet in factories.
A continent.

Divide and substract from zero.
If incorrect, rewrite and remember.

The heads and their jowls sag together under fluffy tempered weather.

Strung together by pearls as pearls.
In pearls.

A snake coiled between reef and coral.

I imagined and then begged for more pain.

The tape repeats that I imagined and begged for more pain.

But in the end did I imagine or did I beg more pain?

Petals fall.
The machine comfortable with its operator.

A hiss in the belly.
As in olden days the yellow humor is drained.
Is this self harm, is so be ye machine or man.

A woman knows no pain. Reject from census. Illustrate.
A butterfly found in a volcano.

Neigh for dark clouds all colts and mares whisper.

Just a cloud. As any other thing.

An argument stitched into this plane.

The past becomes a wound, weeping and gurgling.

Features of the brain. Festered.

The ears not quite level.

A fever.
A flick of the wrist.

The pinky nail holding a *****'s protection.

Catastrophe spelling itself as ***.

A petal falls there at night.
In the place where delegates made children weep.

Petals where tears learned to fall quiet and then silent.
Nov 2016 · 492
Walt Disney World
I suffocate my brain with gin.
I'm seashores and tin.
I bend.

Proximity alert.
The priest becomes megaphone. Spilling my guts when the circuit breaks.

Privacy. Harmony.

Quickly decode the differences.

Hollow bones.

Betsow a vision.
I ask to receive.
I feel the answers.
Too light to break this Earth's atmosphere.
Too late.
Behold,my vision.

The infant sleep of Mother Earth.
A great extinction.
A man is born with grey in his heart.
His thoughts unformed.

A ridge of her leaking core.
A beach with sterilizing water.
Meeting and leaving.
A pool of molten glass.
A lake of cold translucent glass.

A rock to fracture the truth.
A crack forms.
A club is pulled from there.

Echo. Echo. Echo.
Tragedy (rewrite this robert)
Nov 2016 · 577
A subwoofer and an altar.
Decorations and a substance to make it so holy.
Thou preacheth and thou washeth away.

The ball drops and I become a man, I survive cancer.

I begin to wear dresses.
Examining myself in the magic mirror.
Wondering what it is that makes the mythos.
The mythos involving difficulty and strife when speaking of womanhood.

Staring at the ceiling brings a thought. Wipe the mote from my eye. A pale horse approaches. A scab remains unhealed. A bruise is formed. A question.


I'm asked how it went.

And I wonder what it was I chose to share.

What was it I chose to separate my memory from?

I refrain.

A drink in my left hand and a drink in my right hand.

The door buckles. Machiavelli. Police. Jilted exes.

I am afraid for one half second.
I forget for one half second that I am calm and tranquil water.
I forget for a second that a beast rests at the base of my skull.

I remember to be grateful.

I look down at my pens and smile.

I look up and sever the necks which once felt so proud and so soft.

Tearing limbs from sockets I find peace.
I find love.
I find undstanding.

And I can't stress enough this cadence.

One half of a whole.

Roll over and take pictures of me.

Roll over and feel a fork in my neck.

Oh so this is morning.

I'll eat you raw.

I love you too.

Basking within the sticks and stones.


After the saline.
Now how does that sound?

I want you to follow.

Watch the moth's escape.
A twist of a doorknob.

But we watch.

I grit my teeth. Explain to you these are burns and wound marks.

One or the other and I discover.

Explain to you it needn't be thy way

Ate quickly and explained quicker.

Setting things on the ground is a tricky dive.

One sees the water. And the water sees it again.

So break it. And destroy your poise.

Waiting waiting and laying under the stars with two eyes.

My one and my other.

See now?

See I've grown.

Sleeping in safes. Becoming responsible to avoid the count of clicks and the flicks of wrists.

Speaking of...

Speaking out loud.

Speaking alone I guess.

I'll watch my cigarette disappear and hope a clone is born.

Now. Now now now.

Everyone's dead.

He said he watched the stars watch over you.

Stammering but now pointing.

Stars fall. And even that became an example of me doing wrong.

Is this silence?

Don't hold your breath baby. Use it because there is that chemical I'm lacking from you.

Is this silence?

No it is me just being alone.

We don't do this or that and when we do, it becomes that it wasn't this or that.
Tragedy Written on my birthday this year. Oct 20th for those who don't know.
Oct 2016 · 466
On Sundays I Vomit
There is the smile I carried alone for so long.

But yours is the smile I coerced from the steps.

Leather green *** slave

And on soother days I perform future's work.

God's deeds.

Breathing heavy
hoping yet
we are
breathing light
in dreams

A lullaby of sorts

That might make things a bit clear and if it doesn't

Well then that this is okay

Face staying warm and risk growing from my ribs

I wonder how colors taste to the heroes I've burned


Heroes and idols.

Stand in my little monster
Is this the sequence of regret and tragedy

Or is it now as someone said once

Sobering I call it these days

What is it?

The feeling of not composing the self
only involving your belch in the chorus

On the bus line I grew.


And I cry
Long ago required my mind to separate tears from my eyes

A dry hobble and a glance over my shoulder
My hair perfect
My lines hidden a verse 1 space over

That's perfect I say

Reciting the image line of bloated pug carcasses and skin I've made in case of nights like tonight

End quote
I want out I want out with a bang

My blood grew
Flooded the hallway and now my thoughts of suicide dissolve

Father is it me now?
Am I that sound the crunch of glass meeting wood on elegant wood flooring?

Or father...

Am I the cherry asked for but left undigested

Alone in a trashcan
And then again alone in a dumpster
And simply waiting for a kitten to find me
And fill it's own belly
And finding in the morning
I've Teman not touched
Cowering under sunshine
Discovering a cowl and cane

I discovered locomotion
My reach far exceeding its grasp

Living with this world but very unsure if I belong to this blur

Do I belong to this blur?
Am I alone in this void?
Will I die *****?

Watch a piece of myself die.
Oct 2016 · 364
Fruit in the Gaetano
Blue is now the future. I wait.

It is the one who held a key and
fell to Earth.

A fool. A coward and now a

What horror must I fund for your
world to collect me?

I'm unsure when security made
its way into my pants.

Lesions and twenty two packets
of salt.

A man and his automatic

A subscription to Penthouse.

But the most wonderful time is
my own.

Proof that hard work and tireless
effort yields errors.

Quoting your favorite movies and
collecting different tastes in

A fetus and a geisha collecting
dust in a temple.

What pulls the thread from the
wheel must remain untouched.

It is like a season of poor

But what must go stays unsaid.


A group of people, forgiven now.
A couple, elderly but with child.
A man behind the street unseen but from one degree. Another man alone and staying inside. And what could that be inside a person's garage.
Moving on
In quietly asked hush3s a
nd the performance begin s

The couple hiding and asking others about things with state men's attache ed
Pull me in a huneed pulls and I then discover amateur
Ambidextrous men some women
You saw the water when realizing

to chase gone

The bluest rounds of something moving again. And then something else moved alone
And then I believe it to be something

A stranger thing to be sure and then later on a newer a tore opens.

Maybe on this do range thing a few digerremy things Wil happen

D then a new
Maybe the is a friend in there
Maybe there is a f fiend out yhwrr.
Oct 2016 · 244
Who I Found Alone
Shivering paint cowered and dry

Peeling the witnesses back and taking the dry fruit from inside

So what was is now a blistered and simpler time

Humming a tune to understand and believe a strange omen exists out there

In the blue darkness and in the reddish orange shadows a stranger washes his lovers' hands

What could be, I wonder and what will be

So a blue tricycle sits alone
An infant's coffin collecting grass

The soul bubbles and graves are pushed outward

A blossom most appropriate for the New Year

And tonight they stayed, spoke of their dreams and crushes

One speaks of a vacuum

One far away dissolving stars and thinning water filled moons

The future is a pile of sand
Sad and uncollected

The water becomes oil and eyes close and leave the head to sleep

Oct 2016 · 1.1k
Hurricane Matthew
Hurricane Mathew

I ask a third or fourth time,

When is it supposed to hit?

I ask

one second time later

But it's the

New day

Not a one

And not a


blue day

A simple tiny little


My mind from memories

Thinking then

Then the thought

making steps
a bit more pleasant

Healing the try and burning the gauze

For a brighter

(And th3n)

purified future

The outcome father,

Has me quoting melodies
Closing my eyes

So that now I am seeing

My childhood's house burn

I chew the candy now


... moving lobes


the boys scratching your newly
(Insert ****** possibly insectuous) painted siding

And that wasn't remembering

That was
   (Or is it now)

Over and over
And it's over

Oh so oh oh

I mix my mediums

You've made a mistake

I mixed my mediums

Betrayed by blood magic

A sequence of sounds

The pen

A barn

And my
((And mine alone))



I wondered once
And surfed

I lied once
And shivered

I woke up
And spoke once

A pool of blood
((Nurses telling you))

It's a lot of blood

And the drummers shake

My death

My . .

I wish to say
My pen leaks

Wish and pray because of Saturday

So today I stay

   A madman




Breathe wind breathe .



Win but breathe.

The shorter term breeze

And you'd say (I hope)

There he goes again.

Argh she blows.


And I continue this

A death without

A death  tasting oh but so foul

Picture me as I stay asleep

A microphone's pop


And the sweetest feeling of kissing me

Not knowing

I cramp too soon

And I hide
bug poison
In my thinning hair

But what is that?

Virulity is

And power....

And all of this....

It is abracadabra

It is alakazam.

Life is a few minced words..
Sep 2016 · 290
far from you alyssa
and i crawl with these degrees
and i dress real casual

and i break your pretty jaw

and in a cell i nurse my heavy wounds

on my chiseled shoulder

and i sit

wonder how

you got away with


wonder how im alive

because love

kills all
alyssa baby....l....
an we watch light become our thiughts
our thighs

our times

her thighs
and movement

a movement and

i dont know

but i know tonight

i hsve

been laid

with urgency

without me

mos importantly

you were not the he

the stitch in her


but i shall

but i couyld

tell you who thinks of me at night
but no

not tonight

i feel mydelf coliiding in the  orning

with the things i gave myself to

laswt night

a bill

a fold

a fold in my innocence
Aug 2016 · 364
bold italic bold
sweet destiny
with nubile stitchings now made stronger
with substance
new ink is distance we've missed

your needle's eye
and your pins so much sharper

o'er pavement and briars
all surfaces, now taxed lighter

my hours with silence
my eyes pursue
and praise
the calmer echoes in darkness

yes, keep me
of age
at dewy midnight
i sing
that you may not wander

the shot best taken here,
light fills

where I stand this clearing
but there
& there
my eyes witness three hens

come here, come here,
hurry now
you his

there is time not for us to waste

I obey and bring myself
in a cautious, efficient
most effective pace

looking back to a moment,
we sit for hours watching while
our prey circles around us

there are pots nesting there like flies

but inside dampness raises our thoughts

the ones I hide

the ones you love

puling off my tongue


with a new border and the words

traced over

original art

sold below markets
and places you misplaced that misplace your value
a tiny whisper here
and a smaller sort of incantation there

but here

here is to
warm nights and the cold days
that pursue

and with a monster there
the storm brewed and you've not prepared your stomach

so call and call
raise hell as I
drown myself
Jul 2016 · 479
Screen patch.
wrinkles of the plastic
over the mattress, the mountains
their faces blue
and their
something arousing.

is your head between your heart?
now along the letters
burrow emotions.

i am hearing feedback from the thresher,

the alleys,
for all creed
or age

the one becoming the other.

they together do not wonder
if the lips

if the lips what?
Decided to be exceptionally obtuse on this one. And for those who may care enough to read my poems, I do my best to be obtuse. So have fun, from me to to you.
Oh and,
Jul 2016 · 347
down arrow but holding it
when I was a boy
I knew I
liked you best

but time undoes things
& rots
the very best

if I were a boy
I'd like

what's next

I'd use my
sharpest blade
& groom you in your nest

but I'm just a girl
who's failed

o'er & o'er..

passed  your tests

and you're just a boy
pawing at my chest

my chest
under cover,



or swell

Jul 2016 · 369
And what my poems w@nt
Feel free to


Jul 2016 · 280
Am I what I want?
when I was a boy
I knew I
liked you best

but time undoes things
& rots
the very best

if I were a boy
I'd like

what's next

I'd use my
sharpest blade
& groom you in your nest

but I'm just a girl
who's failed

passed  your tests

and you're just a boy
pawing at my chest

my chest
under cover it

or swell

Another day, another night.
You say their debt outweighs their death.
Logic dispels the search through trash and mildewed lore.
Makeup runs and your choices stay.
Becoming much thinner now yes?
The air is unintelligible.
These things will last.

Abandoned not loved, the fate of your newest choice;
a most crystalline series of poor choices, calculated missteps and those carefree mistakes.

Like the smoke flown from your lungs over the roof of neon discotheque.


You smell of spoiled treasure.

Move past the decay, past perfumes and powders.
There is you, skeletal and shaking on a small bed in the middle of a dark place with a hint of light all around you, shadows form on the edge, the mythos surrounding your empty head, but never bending to enlighten you.
Stay still.
Revise. something about a mother's parents dying. they, giving their only daughter a bell pepper. something when the daughter cuts it open to cook with, but noticing it's inside nearly seedless. something like a withered womb. something like the barren and the futile. or mostly something like a child realizing it will soon be all alone forever with nothing to hold but the choices it has made. something like that.
I wake and close my eyes, giving up my search for wonder.
Jun 2016 · 477
Crushed Violet. Silk Dress.
Place oil in the reservoir.
Along with the windows,
the meat will last longer.

A prison of forgotten & soon to be unforgiven loans.

You ride ahead alone, without that satchel you've forgotten at the bar, now attached to me by the hip.
I'll remain alone also, searching for a single strand of your precious hair.

Those lights and sirens, explain them to me.

You speak to me of love,
"With love."
You say.

I know a time where force projected its threatened weakness,
but not with you by my side.

Nor I, yours.

Jun 2016 · 250
and it became a sadness which no desire could dispel
thinking of you i move my head away from light
down here among the dead
with thoughts my eyes could not have said
be it courageous summer
winter bring initials carved into trees
spanish air and newborn bees
Jun 2016 · 529
There aren't enough fish
The visual arts over
time constraints pull
                             and push
brick and mortar,
glass and bone aside.

Beside the sycamore traveling,
potsherds and splinters of graves
near similar resting places
never resting with syndromes

and now we search for scraps to place our waste into
fearing the wounds in Earth do not break
while we continue searching for scraps and waste
A little piece for my favorite city Orlando. I love you.
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