Watch Your StepDelicately placing light bulb in trash
Delicately climbing in through the window
Delicately cracking breakfast on the rim of the pan
Delicately planning future with the lawyer
Delicately pulling the skin off the foot
Delicately appraising the new music
Delicately allowing the thoughts to flow
Delicately closing eyes against the showerhead
Delicately accepting the pain inside
Like some respectable host
Like, pile it on the bed in the room no one uses
But the doors are urgent now
With the weight
A barn door kind of red
Like aliens arriving outside
To take away, but run without
And everything's bursting behind and now
Captured, kicking and thrusting, feet waving goodbye
Like new angels
Delicately watching the needle change hands
Delicately seeing through the passenger windshield
Delicately taking the steps back inside
Closed CurtainI stand guarding a closed curtain,Closed Curtain4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hiding history that is left to be untold...
Why can't someone see?
Why can't someone free me from this unescapable position?
Why do you see the act I put on, but not the truth in my eyes?
Can't you see this exulant behavior is just an affectation?
Just hiding my shame and misery?
Why don't you ever think to look into this facade, so I can be free from the lies,
From the secrets,
From the pain I've endured?
Why do you believe this fictitious life,
This performance that's seems as it'll never end?
I stand guarding a closed curtain....
Just pull it aside.
Our Beautiful SinsThe last time you came to visitOur Beautiful Sins3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I showed you my collection of sins
in their mayonnaise jar on the shelf
and you took it down and poured them out
and turned them over one by one
in your callused palms and between your fingers,
feeling their textures against your lips and across your windburned cheeks,
like so many pebbles plucked from the shore.
They were red and green,
a few of them purple
either smooth as lies or jagged as bitten nails
and some of them made you cry
and some of them turned you on
and I added a few more purple ones that night.
You kissed away my doubts
and in the morning we buried the jar in the back yard
with the other things that have no place
in the here and now
between the row of goldfish and the row of hamsters
under the blazing pyracanthas.
You even put up a little cross
made of popsicle sticks, still sticky (so were our mouths)
as a touch of irony.
You were already gone by the time I found yours,
your pickle jar full of brightly-coloured sins
hiding in the bottom
BesiegedIf, while thinking of me,Besieged5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are overcome with noise -
Noise that causes
in your synapses,
disrupts the signals
Noise that hums
with electrical impulses;
Noise that stiffens your bones
by arresting your nerves
with interfering frequencies;
Noise that swallows your serotonin -
I release you.
If, while thinking of me,
you are overwhelmed with honey -
Honey that sickens your stomach
with sweetness and hardens there;
Honey that covers your hands
and works its way through your hair;
Honey that fills your mouth
the way you taste,
the way you smile,
the way you breathe;
Honey that leaks gold
out of the grey folds
of your brain -
I release you.
If, while thinking of me,
you have one memory
that incites you to movement,
that reminds you to breathe -
Let MeLet me get under your skinLet Me4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Read you from the inside, out
I'll get to know you from within,
What makes you scream and shout
Let me get inside your mind,
Because something there is changing
And I would love if I could find
What it is in there that's raging
Invite me in with your eyes
Let your colors shine true
Let us take off meager disguise
Let me get to know you
The Curse.I pick up my pencil and get ready to write.The Curse.4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I sit there for a while, my eraser I bite.
I stare out the window but there's no inspiration in sight.
I see only the sun, looking at me with its rays so bright.
I bang my head on the table.
My mind not at all stable.
It feels like someone caged my brain and added a lock.
I throw my pencil in anger and curse my writer's block.
GardeningYou wished I was sun-swept sky;Gardening3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a corrugated sea.
You wanted a t-shirt and
a poem that wasn't there-
I gave you petals and thorns.
Yesterday I cut the rosebush down;
you drank coffee, and
you watched tv.
A Picture of the SeaIt's the gaze of the June sunA Picture of the Sea4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
your misted skin an ember hue-
a hand across your brow.
It's the breath of the warm air
when first light cotton slides;
it's the lap of the cold sea
against your toes.
You feel it higher than your knees and so
you let the next soft something go
from the place that the close heart knows;
it's entry gained by heat and sigh
till nothing's left to cast aside-
old skin for new, wet wings untried,
chrysalis and butterfly.
BluesMorning comes in widow's weedsBlues3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
settles to the bottom of my cup,
begging to be stirred,
wondering why my chin
has fallen over the rim
and how come my feet
take forever to shuffle
over floorboards and dust.
I am vacant, worn down -
just this mud-bare rug,
heels bleeding gray,
and so tired
I forgot how to say your name
or the color of the walls
when I turn out the lights.
It is just the pain of you
settling in again
with leftover Sunday evening.
RecessionA man on fire walked calmly out of the building, through glass doors that were maybe there, maybe not. Hit the bricks, pound the pavement, skin a cat or two. I saw what he was thinking, it formed a black cloud above his head.Recession3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He thought of old photographs and wicker furniture, of how dark it was inside for all of those plants to thrive. He thought of chances taken and opportunities missed. The monologue in his burning head was a constant buzzing fly, a death rattle.
Old TV shows, bad poetry, seasons, songs and metalworks; nothing could shut out the memories or calm the storm inside. Treading water, he wished that he could fly again. Over the horizon he walked, never seeing the starving child scuffling along behind.
A man on fire disappeared from the picture plane today, through glass doors that were maybe there, maybe not. Hit the road, Jack, make tracks, don't step on a crack. Leaving dust and ash, smoke-feathers and birthday candles, he receded.
Fluid DynamicsI would kiss you 37 times.Fluid Dynamics4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You would approach like restless weather,
your taste against my tongue like heavy air,
warm and dense, a coming late-day rain.
There would be low cloud and rising wind.
Just before the downpour,
we would go inside.
A Promise of No ReleaseI will not go outA Promise of No Release3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Hard or bloody
As so many I know
I will not wake up
On the inside
To open my eyes
I will not stand still
I will experience life
As my grandparents did
The last I knew
To have done it right
Around a table
With Grandbabies at their feet
So this is a promise
I make to myself
I sincerely hope
To be the glue
That holds us together
Of no release
i miss you...I sit here in this rain,i miss you...2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Thinking of you.
But no matter how long I wait on this bench,
You will never meet me here.
I’ve got on my best dress, my cane,
Even that old bowler hat you always liked,
And I wait at the bench where we first met.
But you will never meet me here again.
I lean on my cane in front of me,
Thinking of you,
Carry the MemoryI write in that dream state,Carry the Memory4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where the sun shines black
and my eyes take in a darker shade.
I write of these hidden
parts of our lives,
when we die in our sleep,
and we continue towards
death in the morning.
Open the book
and enter a cave
with smoky carvings
on the walls.
Look beneath the soot
and you will see your life
carved with a sloppy hand.
The rock is yours
and the ink is found
in your blood;
the darkest shade of red,
that is black when it dries.
Watch your life unfold:
here is where you shed tears
for dead family, the water
stains the rock wall ink,
and brings a brilliant color
to the cave, setting in motion
the oldest tapestry in your mind.
The figures move
on skeletal joints,
to where you die,
in the dark corner
of the cave.
Most do not want to go there.
Take a light, for it is blackness,
and you will see in the rock your death.
You carry the memory on your hands,
as smeared smoke, and blood.
You will be reminded
when you hold
your first born child,
his blood from the womb
FatalitiesFew can successfully negotiateFatalities4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
with the furies, or with their engine, fate.
In youthful vigour, see, they grow tall and proud,
ignorant that the robust body must yet become a shroud.
On the seas of fortune, the storms of passion drive
fragile vessels on to fearsome rocks. Some will not survive.
Even those who navigate a steady course
must fail at last, overwhelmed by the pitiless force
of circumstance. At last the ragdoll body is bereft.
Of passion and vigour, nothing is left.
Never SurrenderIt's all unjust. It's all unfair,Never Surrender2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Why does anyone give a care?
Whether life is cruel or kind,
I reserve the right to laugh than die,
But I'll never surrender to these tears I cry.
It's all untrue. It's all unbearable,
Why are these thoughts in me so horrible?
Whether death is clairvoyant or blind,
I deserve the dignity to question my time,
But I'll never surrender to these words I rhyme.
Angel TearsImagine a raindrop is an angel's tearAngel Tears2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Falling from heaven on Gaia's mortal fear
Weeping in unity their children's lost soul
Heaven's pure spirit evil now doth control
Eden of rapture consumed by time's flow
A lost utopia where gluttony doth grow.
Alluring serpent's lair humans covet the bait
Devourer of truth so poisoned with hate
Innocence now lost in maelstrom of desire
Purity long blackened by greed's hungry fire
The spirit debased evil darkens the heart
The nefarious abductor tears the soul apart
The moment approaches the farmer shall reap
Love now eternal for faithful lost sheep
Gnashing of teeth those left in despair
Time now elapsed for repentance and prayer
Renounce the darkness and take gentle heed
Embrace the truth be the Lamb's seed
Moon CratersMoon Craters4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the smoke hut
that is melting
by the bulb,
I am this
of fragile-ware and crocheted filaments
that vein out in disparate quests
from the patterns of your
God, I have some
Spaniard lust for those pearly little drop-
chorales of your twin diviners
clotted up like amber marbles
and left to summer
in the charity heap.
Damn their colours, they're all mania degrees
awash in recollected prayers,
that bare your dark coal
and purpled burn stone
of the Goddess
made (on top) of you
finger through me
How you de-gleamed in reverse, a light-ascetic
black (pin)holes in a mime;
when I thought to thresh
you out of boots
to a craterous
silent sirenwomen, true, our gifted gender,silent siren3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
seeing further, nigh forever,
beguiling men to gibbous wonder -
asking, 'does she really know?'
his cratered dreams and jagged plans,
trespassed by hands of other men,
she fades from sight a later night,
leaves a luna'd afterglow.
more graceful is the distaff face,
appearance feminine as lace,
dawn and dusk her path shall trace;
mother's pull declares it so.
men, they moon o'er lack of touch,
'poetic waxing' not enough.
llp - jul2011 - dA
So Sick...I am so sick of feeling alone.So Sick...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Time heals wounds, but mine have only grown.
The people around me are happy.
But I am still feeling crappy.
Some time has passed and I thought it would change.
But it has only gotten worse. Isn't that strange?
I try to stay tough.
But I know that's just a bluff.
Isn't it sad that I have to lie?
Not to anyone else but to myself.
What is really sad is that I don't care.
I treat myself like garbage, is that fair?
Its fine, it really does not matter.
My words, they are just meaningless chatter.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad everyone's lives are better.
I just wish that I did not have to sit here and see my palms getting wetter.
Glass workWearing a stain one lessGlass work3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
signing in unison
under sheets of observance
in poorly dreamt nights.
The kettle song, just listen
Mama's words let smitten;
But conditional vows as such
you may sneeze endearingly
and watch 'em
like lilting fear get
tinted with the sketchiness.
Caffeine AddictI adore that addictive aromatic aroma,Caffeine Addict2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Which wakes my senses in a senseless morning,
When my eyes are bound in an eternity of sleeping.
I drink it like the intoxicating ambrosia of angels,
And then I spend the rest of time in a caffeine coma.
I enjoy that enriching essential essence,
Which calms my anger in an anarchic day,
When my mind is lost in a mania of delay.
I thirst for it's poisonous nectar like some necrophiliac,
And then I dream the rest of time in a caffeine conscience.
I love that potently positive poison,
Which lights my mood in a mournful night,
When my soul is dead in a suffering of might.
I desire that drink as black as demon's blood,
And then I waste the rest of time in a caffeine cuisine.