sacramentI am a Godsacrament3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and a jealous God.
I secreted away your passions,
your dark animalistic desires,
and banished them to a cast-iron box:
a cage full of lust and of memories.
I thought I buried it deep enough.
but you found it out by its sick greedy heat, the light
searing out of its chinks
and, playing Pandora, you pried
one by one, your lovers reared their
beautiful heads and wormed
their ways back under your skin.
if I cannot prevent, I will at least
retaliate: find someone else to desire
and make your heart eat its acid.
I search for another,
but I find only waste.
now accepting applications...the smoke beneath your bed finally finds younow accepting applications...9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
staring crooked in broken mirrors
for the fire of your former features
forever and ember
still breath and false starts
'til it whispers
the universe is big business
but the fact of (the) matter is
it desires you deposit d.n.a.
demanding genetic building blocks
on which to lay its foundation
and though the future of father's daughters
the sun set's assured
I'm eagerly anticipating the arrival
of the non-linear one-liner
yes it all implodes in infinity
but buildings retain their names anyway
mountains and their silhouettes sit still
yet oppose portraits on general principal
the stars think they're brilliant
the general population favors vague impressions
most allow the words
(to escape unnoticed)
DisenchantmentI said your eyesDisenchantment3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
were ripe for stealing,
but my fingerprints lied.
They left a strange future behind us -
a discourse that bruised
between my gums.
Don't sleep so loudly.
with sightless hands.
The boy next door
can hear you
behind these bars,
has left its ghost
inside our pockets.
Heartbreak Hotel, 102 and 814Room 102Heartbreak Hotel, 102 and 8144 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'll bet you give as good
as you get, she winked,
sliding the worn kmart down her belly
and popping the cherry
of a red bull.
So, why don't you crawl
up this quilt
and try to undo
the damage my husband left?
I promise I won't break your heart,
just bruise it in places
the wife won't see.
Besides, that suit doesn't
quite fit you right
and I like my men better
dressed only in the dark.
Just let me just sink my teeth
into this quart of vodka
or your thigh
and try to figure out
why I covered the dog in newspapers
and the couch still
isn't speaking to me.
The weatherman is not my friend
but I sure can find peace
in a stanger's bed.
So put my mail out with the trash
cause you don't love this boy
and these empty bottles
only make me angry.
reductionI'll tell the truth:reduction3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a thief of the
if you want honesty,
I don't think that we will
give it one or two
or three years
years tense with opposing forces
and unusual magic
and our reaction will be
complete. we will both
go back to our own kinds.
haven't they always defined love
in terms of chemistry?
but like dissolves like.)
and here is the confession:
here is why I am odious:
I know this and
I will not withdraw.
here is the electron bridgehere the
anode, cathode, the ill-fated
I set this up like dominos;
I wield it like words.
I am an oxidizer,
and I intend to get as much of you
as I can.
I am scraping our hours
dormantthis is not my usual fare:dormant3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blank pages, empty
but you've trapped me in a cage
of coiled uncertainty
my inspiration is a cacophony
I cannot write
outside the fire
of your smile;
a mute stalagmite
builds its castles inside me,
from the consonants
I cannot hatch.
you are an irresistible prison
whose walls I scale for pleasure.
the irony is almost
it's visceral, non-literary.
I, so accustomed to ensnaring
with my words, have become
powerless over them:
the sheer brute force of your will
has made me a fair mockery
you have cut out the siren's tongue
and taught it to tap-dance your desires.
but, though I click your rhythms, I know
you cannot marry a marionette
when it's not only her strings
that are tied.
I will break free from the scourge of you
and wreak my destruction
RedThere is nothing discreet about this love -Red2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it hangs on my chest,
a defiant noise -
the scent of something luscious
stretched between your hips.
Your back arches
in a way only Psyche can feel.
You wear it
in a cheap red dress
that comes apart like midsummer
in my hands
as we flaunt the stars,
the stones under our skin
stretching the bed frame
till we crack.
And I fill you up,
your arms a battle
raging in the waning lies
So, I lied.I am a poet.So, I lied.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that's what my
skin tells me when
I'm slowly melting into
bed sheets not worth
lying in twice.
Half sick of shadows,
I think I've lost my mind.
My thoughts are s p i n n i n g
and my bones are shaking.
But I keep repeating re-peating
repeating your name like a mantra.
All I want to do is sleep.
But you see,
I bleed more than red
and there is this ink pen
digging through my skin.
La Petite MortStill my beating heart once moreLa Petite Mort4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
rest 'til morning's light does break
withdraw from heaven's farthest shore
into the gently fading take
the ever distant leagues of time
are whispered with serene intent
the smallest glimpse of fair divine
lies deep within that sweet torment.fly my stilling spirit's splendor
leave this place where I once died
the Little death (each time remembered)
the little Death dwells deep inside.
sleep my love through dream undone
breathe in once, breathe out again
rise anew with Dawn's first sun
and feel the tender moments end.sing my fearsome quickened heart
to keep my tattered soul aloft
evermore inside the bliss
Evermore the death so soft.
motionI love you like amotion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a half-pause in a torrent of
during which life
stutters into being.
I want to take you
in the breathless spaces between
where passion builds and shudders
into a trailing afterthought
000.00I am composed of not but a nightmare,000.004 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stroked by your wayward sensual fingers. Sleep bubbles
in the spaces in which I cannot feel: the
bodiless, wistful spaces.
Waking is never my craft;
I was wrought by sickened lovers made for
togetherness. as they vomit together
they hold hands and sing. choking and sputtering
out words and filth, reducing
their stomachs to stained pink sleeves.
They are One and I am a stasis, a
dreamlike nothingness, a physiological
ringlets of the sun kiss my fingers and
dot the endless edges of your smile.
The creases of mankind fold thrice,
and rip with bold red puncture in the
My own sickness is inbred; a nightmare
is made for ugliness.
The moon hangs low and yellowed,
sunken with craters and it has that mouth with
bad teeth and lunar dust
that kisses the murky tide.
Your face is somehow only a hly breath of its light, finite and soft.
I wish you were.
godto say I don't believe in yougod4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
would be too small a claim.
I abhor you,
despise your sick mouth
twisted in vile satisfaction,
your heavy palm raised to slaughter
millions, your raspish voice
commanding to pillage, plunder,
rape and kill.
you are a jealous god indeed,
a monster feeding off the slime
of the world you created;
you've a hard-on for suffering
and you'll get your fix.
tell me, demon, cancer,
how many people must be massacred
in your name before you find it wise
to lift a finger?
LingerThis languorous lust left lingering beneath the bed frameLinger3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
keeps us dreaming, draped in the helpless hope of longing for love's song.
We sleep in inches, morning's mayhem robbing our rest
with our senses softly drowsing, drowning in this sun swept bed.
As we turn, trembling toward the pillows pale retreat,
limbs lock again as if to claim our clandestine secrets
and keep the careless haste of hours hidden, hushed and sweet.
Thirst of a Poetthe bards have bumblebees in their mouths,Thirst of a Poet4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for language is babbling,
a brook in a bowl, joy brimming;
billowing, rippling, surging
and spilling; sashaying down,
with a swaying sound (oh-so wistful, oh).
language is burbling,
an impish kiss of mouth from mouth;
bewildering, baffling, bemusing
and tricking; tumbling round,
to touch a fellow Fool and his nought (so wistful, oh),
and disturbs a Poet, who slips
into a dream of a vagabond
"where are you calling from?" he murmurs,
in his sleep, and the newspaper flutters
with a snore; then rests on his chin (just so, oh),
and language sidles past him up to me,
and places a river upon my lips,
Man as SurgeryI'm an appendectomyMan as Surgery2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slice and flap
like a turned out pocket
kissing the surgeon's lips
I'm a tonsillectomy
high above your wires
a new frequency
of birds crashing
I'm an amputation
nip and tuck
of dangling leg and arm
left for friends
to sever on the street
with white picket teeth
to cloud your face
freckles popping like stars
or morphine clogging my arteries
just bleed out
where you left me
and the wide world waiting
for you to happen.
UndoneI cannot rememberUndone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
what she wore that night,
or the smell of the moon
at her wrist,
or the blur of her cheek
grazing the pillow.
I cannot recall details
of her voice -
what was said
once the heat of July
nested in the curve
of my tongue
and pressed back
But I remember the shock -
the last tremor
of bricks and skin
carving an arc
into our breathing,
shaking the walls of her room
and the sound of the world
HomecomingThe dead do not need a homecomingHomecoming3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or an invitation -
they do not wait at the door
to be let in
or cross the threshold
with crossed fingers
and a prayer.
They do not wear their best clothes -
no poplin suits
or brocade skirts
to catch upon the lintels
or dust the marble floors.
They will not dine
upon your crusts
or marrow bones or salted eggs
nor steal the heavy coins
from out beneath the rugs .
They'll only tarry
in the hall
and make soft moan
amidst the wind
wondering why you turned
their faces to the wall
and put out
your best china.
SLAMAt a young age,SLAM3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I had to learn to dodge stones,
grow angry scales
along innocent freckled skin,
and open my eyes to a world not quite ready
to hear this tigress's voice.
Speaking in tongues to those paid too listen-
of fairytale wars, battle scars,
and the many linoleum squares I counted
day in and day out. I became mute.
Escaping through rabbit holes and back alleys
into a world of ink and worthy paper cuts.
[ I wear these
like a fucking
fashion statement! ]
And this goes out to you-
The Eden snakes, you dead-eyed demons:
It is you that keep me up at night,
weighing down these artist fingers-
IT IS YOU I WILL SLAM AT AN OPEN MIC NIGHT!
I do have a life worth writing about.
Stitched LipsHer lips, soft like old paperStitched Lips3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tastes of stardust and ink.
I'd kiss her a thousand times over,
just to savour the poetry resting
on her wasp tongue
but, I'm kissing ghosts
with empty eyes, void, naked
and vulnerable like sleeping
gargoyles in the mid-day sun.
[ I'll love her quietly, close-mouthed
in the arms of stone angels. ]
The Poet Is Sentenced to Death by ObscurityThe rhymes that have now made me fit to die,The Poet Is Sentenced to Death by Obscurity3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
those crimes that lift me with prophetic error,
have chiselled my mind into a stony why,
and all the world sprawling, laughing - none the clearer.
The dictators of definitions tense
as to the gallows they me quickly bring
for taking of languages accidents
to corrupt to madness our true, brave kings.
"To the whirring world our words must agree.
The mechanics won't change at your behest.
Doesn't reason deserve our loyalty?"
So goes the fearful cry of all the rest.
But when reason melts the verse will flow
to wash away wisdom so new meaning can grow.
Do not quit SmokingWake up before the sunDo not quit Smoking3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
shows its face, but
keep your shoes underneath
the bed. Do not make coffee.
Don't write shitty poetry.
Ditch class to do something
from the heart,
but don't catch a bus.
Go to the train station.
Paint pictures, imagine
the lives of strangers,
but don't fall into the temptation
of leaving, the easiest thing in the world.
Do not revel in being missed.
Don't write cryptic good-bye notes,
sad, apologetic letters, shopping
lists, verses on the back of
credit card bills.
Call your best friend and cry.
Give her a cactus to put in
Move in with your girlfriend
and dream about new things.
Do not write anything
until you have a million tiny scars and
a story worth telling.
Secret AngelShe would come to meSecret Angel3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the failing light,
shortly before dawn.
Wearing only a nightgown,
her body swayed
gracefully against the gloom.
With an outstretched finger
to half startled lips,
she'd remind me
not to wake the others.
with the most captivating smile
this damaged form of mine.
Her confidence shined,
gently rocking her body
while reaching for the heart
of a lost soul.
She was my secret angel
come to bring me peace
in the night.
Girl as PoemShe was once a verse by BaudelaireGirl as Poem3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
something about flowers
that were loyal to none
and I kissed her
when no one was watching.
She was a stanza by Byron
who stood on
the white cliffs of somewhere
and praised her eyebrows.
She is nothing like summer
or a lost continent;
is too bold for that.
Her shoulders are not
or a battle to be won.
I thought she was a poem -
or maybe an ode
or sonnet -
words teased and woven
that beat and bled
upon my humble pen,
not the flesh and blood
of thighs and hips
ripening beneath my gaze,
waiting to be written.
for nothing or nobodywiden your life.for nothing or nobody3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the organ fails.
the monk lifts his fingers.
the water falls thru,
the light betrays.
things get returned to:
windows & dying plants,
the place of the buried animal,
the couch of the magnified christmas.
sometimes in unexpected ways.
widen your circling
light a candle,
indicate your life
by the act.
in your room