Epitaph For JayEpitaph For Jay1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
There were seven days of darkness before you left
I didn't know that it was a sign
I kept thinking about death
Assuming I was thinking about mine
I wish I'd been right
Now you're lodged in the back of my throat
I can't cough you up to mourn
I curse god with every breath
I remember when you were born
and wonder why
Your tags are left behind everywhere, train tracks
with an arrow pointing forward
With that Celtic-looking spelling of "eclipse"
You eclipsed the sun and the moon, the stars went black
maybe they'll never come back
You lived life ferociously, on your own terms
You were never good at obeying the rules
But, tortured soul, you lived as best you could
Who else can truly say that?
Did you know how much you were loved?
I eat, I drink, I sleep somehow upon an earth that has crumbled
Under a sky with no stars and no chance
to hear your voice on the phone
Telling me you're finally coming home
There is no healing, only perseverance.
Daily horrorBruised and battered feeling aloneDaily horror2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The one who beat me has gone and left home
Leaving me bleeding sprawled out the floor
Choking and wheezing like so many times before
My hair soaked with blood and my clothes are all torn
Cramps are horrendous as I miscarry his spawn
Lifeless and and weary I lay here to die
No one and nothing can hear my weak cry
But I know by the tomorrow my body will regain
And I will wait for his entrance to live it all again
garbanzo interludeSix men in police uniforms, each wearing a plastic princess Halloween mask. They wore metal hats like urns on their heads which held fire. They were singing a song about death and popsicles. Each held a soft rubber baby doll under their left arm and a garden spade in their right hand. They were going to Italy to learn to sing opera, or just to get drunk on wine. They weren't sure, they were still trying to figure how to get out of my shoe. Luckily, I don't have the Stinkfoot, so there was no big rush. Not for me, either, I just wore my boots. Down long corridors with hatches on each side that opened with handles, I tried to discover the secret to garbanzo beans. Why would anyone give me garbanzo beans? Why did I take them?garbanzo interlude5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Five Bells (Chapter One) The bell rang three times. That meant that you had fifteen minutes to finish up your work and get to the dining hall. George 2001 began putting away his tools, along with the other thousand or so inmates. Although he was hungry, the routine of the WHO Emotional Rehabilitation Center was driving him mad. Every day was the same. No deviations were allowed, ever. Every inmate wore the same uniform, had the same haircut, and followed the same schedule. Seven days a week, no variation. Eat, work, sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d sat and watched the sun rise, or been out to a bar with his friends. All memory of outside life was being erased by the maddening routine. There were those who found the structure comforting, and were eventually released. Others were driven insane, and sent to Electroshock Therapy. George 2001 tried simply to bear the monotony and stay out of trouble. He hoped that he would be released before he began acting on the thoughts thatFive Bells (Chapter One)3 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
RPMsVoices in the hall; a vacuum cleanerRPMs2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
They're not talking about me
As I push a pencil through paper
And rip and tear, enraged
At the lack of coherent words
The world goes about its business
Justifying its existence with cleaning
Thin-carpeted halls in an old building
Where an old man sits not writing
In teeth-gnashing silence
Machinery hums, crowds chant, the broken spoke
The sound of marching soldiers always present
In the background
The call-and-answer of the precisioned walk to death
Behind the headache
What a fall from grace, this industrialized pit
The grinding of cogs, forlorn and so close to the end
Have a drink and forget
The revolution was a failure, dreams have become sawdust
And leaked oil
To No Critical AcclaimI was onstage when I had my first heart attack. The set looked just like my living room. The audience yawned as I tried to decide whether to live or die. When I finally dragged myself across the floor to the phone, several people walked out. It wasn't what they'd come to see. I'd liked to have pleased them, but it's a lousy way to die. My wife got rave reviews with her nine-month epic of slow deterioration. My son also did well with his falling under a train powerhouse performance. I can't compete with them. I hope to die peacefully in my sleep, no matter what the critics say. I guess I should get off of this ledge and disappoint them again.To No Critical Acclaim4 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Time Heals Nothing..in MeTime Heals Nothing..in Me2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Time Heals Nothing
Your sprit passes threw me like a cold breeze on a warm day,
no physical being left to see,
but I know you are with me.
TIME HEALS NOTHING!!!!!!!!!.....in me
I've gone to all the places you would be,
still I cant except your not with me.
your grave is so lonely,
like two staring eyes in the night.
TIME HEALS NOTHING!!!!!!!!!.....in me
No matter its wrongSo UN confident I am, all a messNo matter its wrong8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
cant express my feelings I hate to confess
I want to be true, so the lesson that is learnt
To make sure no one else will ever get themselffs burnt.
I cry for a second I need the release
to give my soul comfort and give my mind peace
but as soon as I cry my emotions are incomplete
I want to be free of the painful life ,wounds so deep
To tell the lie that it is all god planned
but in doing so I would have to lie and be damned
Not to turn us free just into hot white salty sand
What faith do we have thats not second hand.
Jacob Jacob was dreaming about working again. Since his retirement, it seemed to be all that he ever dreamed of. Usually it was factory or construction work, but sometimes it was strange work that made no sense outside of the realm of sleep. Tonight he was running the light show for a Beatles concert from the keyboard of his computer. It was a fun job. Waking up, his first thought was that he’d have to tell Connie about it. Then he realized that she was gone, and a wave of sadness overtook him. At least he’d finally stopped dreaming about hospitals and convalescent homes. He wished that she’d visit him more often in his dreams. Everyone else that had passed on did, on a regular basis. At fifty-six, he knew far too many dead people. Maybe it was the guilt he felt that kept her from showing up too much. He should have been there that night she died. She asked him to stay, but he was so damned tired. He was coming back in the morning, he’d told her. But morning never caJacob2 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
FactoriesI walked for miles and miles through the old burnt-out factory. The windows were all broken. When I called out for you, there was no one there but a black cat named Tika. She smiled at me and told me things that lead to disease. The first thing was wandering through burnt-out factories.Factories2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I walked for miles and miles through the old burnt-out factory where they keep all the dead dreams. Some were still alive, but they were dying, curling around the edges like paper. Through a broken window I could see a vast field of nothing. Nothing at all.
I walked for miles and miles through the old burnt-out factory. The bricks were black, licked by old flame. You were there, and your parents, and all of our parents. It was a party, but no one was happy. I think it was because we all had to wear oxygen masks.
I walked for miles and miles through the old burnt-out factory, leaving crumbs of stale cookies so I could find my way back. A crow followed behind, eating the crumbs. It didn't matter. I had fo
FriendsPeople of substance are so very rareFriends8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Most of them are fake they don't really care
But some you can value as they have a heart
I find it hard to tell them apart
But when you find them, you will feel that they know
You don't pretend the feelings that you needed to show
Because you don't need to say in words how you are
No matter the distance a friend from a far
I thank you my friend for just being so true
So honest and worthy, thanks for really being you..
If you were the water.If you were the water of life, I would never thirstIf you were the water.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
If all hunger could be fed by you, your food would be enough
The joy of time, would have no seconds without you
A true mystery of love ,so well felt when I'm with you.
A caress of a touch, leaves my heart feel new
Times I spent lost without words to say
A breaking heart that longs for everlasting love
Precious moments stolen, but my love will never die for you.
If I could wish you a dream.If I could wish you a dreamIf I could wish you a dream.3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
it would have your heart in mind
Where everything is how it seems
And all love would not be blind
If I could take away the pain
And make you feel brand new
it would be done in a second
That I promise would be true
But I can't do those things
No matter how hard I try
But you my lady have strong wings
And I would love to see you fly.
Riding Through Hell on a New BikeBoldRiding Through Hell on a New Bike4 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I have become a cliche
Old thoughts swim to the surface
Every damned time
Devoid of anything new
Empty as worn shoes in the corner
Shit on the heels
Sidewalks ice cream razors
Life outside the void within exists
I can't touch it
Damaged goods, diseased, slick moss-green
Yellowed newspaper clippings, obituaries
Black rotten fruit, blowflies, sweat-stains
Coagulated brown blood, paper-thin skin
Douse that blue flame with gasoline
HammersHammers, hammers, hammers, busting through walls, violence.Hammers5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
They break through as I'm sprawled on the tiles, praying to the porcelain god(dess).
Naked, open to the world at large, blurry-eyed and retching.
I'm putting on a show that I'll probably call 'Hammers'.
I won't do more than one show a night, I just won't.
Walls have to be built up again before the next show, you know.
I used to keep the walls up all the time, but now there's all these damned hammers.
Pounding through the walls in my head and heart, smashing plaster,
breaking into the most intimate parts of my being.
See the real me now? I'll be on display for another few minutes, then
I have to cover myself with a blanket in the corner.
And tremble. And remember when I used the hammer as a tool, when
I was on the outside and you were in here.
Maybe I'll call the show 'Fools'.
Moon-WalkingA man is walking across the moon. Dogs are barking. A choir is singing "Angels Serenade". Tiny birds fly around his head and tangle in his hair. There is a strong gravity pull on the moon, and his walking is slow. He is eating a doughnut, wishing he had a steak. Cars pass and people yell out at him, but he doesn't hear them. He is thinking about the holes in his socks, and whether he should buy some from Wal-Mart. He is thinking about how lonely it is on the moon.Moon-Walking6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Monday, Erased and Re-WrittenDawn broke brittle Monday morning, the sky cracked like eggsMonday, Erased and Re-Written6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
(All done in silence beneath the roaring of my tinnitus)
Twenty 'til something and I'm driving out into blazing light
Looking for what, I won't know 'til its found but its
Just so damned bright and quiet and I think of a sniper in the clock tower
Fallen asleep waiting to pick off his targets but how can he sleep
in this goddamned brightness and nothings moving anywhere
Empty streets, has the world called in sick this morning?
Am I awake? Am I alive? Am I in a movie, maybe a character
in someone's book? Why don't I feel anything? Am I waiting for
the writer to tell me how I feel, where I'm going, what I'm doing?
I am lost, that's all, just lost. Lost with this howling in my head
and the creeping thought that I'm not even real, that someone's
dreaming me. Am I the dreamer or the dream? I don't know.
Dawn broke brittle Monday morning, the sky cracked like eggs
But I didn't know it because I wasn't there. I was somewhere dark,
MorningA black cat sleeps in a ray of sunMorning6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
My coffee is lousy
Another cardboard morning
The day isn't a blank canvas
Waiting to be painted
Its already scrawled with
Yesterday's mad crayon drawings
Smoke drifts up and out of the window
I drink the coffee
CupcakesWhen was the last time you had a cupcake? I was eight. I lived in the house with green shingles. It never rained, and I played with little green plastic army men in the driveway. They all melted into a blackened lump when I burned down the house. I was glad I burned the house down, but sad that I'd forgotten about my army men. No one ever gave me cupcakes again. I'm not sure if I survived.Cupcakes6 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Henry, Call Your MotherCinnamon fish ointment, fat daddy smells like blue. Tiny cabbages adorn his brow. He looks like regret.Henry, Call Your Mother6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
But how does he feel, like a piano out of tune, out of time? A crooked-teeth fake smile shows a dead-end sign.
The freezer he sits on is full of old flip-top hats, and frozen moments of his life he wants to keep fresh.
Soul songs from 1971 are tattooed up and down his arms (that can't reach the possibilities of anything more than a hollow laugh.)
A moon and star flag flies over his falling-star head as he slips away into Dreamland.
Thunder Eyes is his new name, here across the universe.
Portions proportioned, all in agreement, he sleeps.
Here and There, Now and ThenBurnt umber dawn, swaying electric treesHere and There, Now and Then7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Thousands of souls chant in the summer wind
Journals of the dead are read by schoolchildren
They awake shaking someone else's dreams from their heads
Static electricity on the nape of your neck
In the television, on your phone, in your dinner
The calling of a murder of crows from the trees
You remember the view from the hospital room window
A smorgasbord of life and limb, death and decay
The antiseptic smell has an undercoating of rot and dirt
Talismans won't work any more than prayers and candles
Soldiers still fight lost wars, glory in the faded night
Tall fences are built to keep the worlds separate
But everything that ever was still is, still lives
Take your flowers to the ICU and give a last kiss on the forehead
Bury your bones, but listen for the chanting on the wind
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breatheLife, Death And A Pork Chop Sandwich7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this
A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit
Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain left but that of echoes
Sleeping for years, dreaming
In vivid colors of July fireworks
And Christmas tree lights blinking
Owl and CrowYour fingertips stuck to my forehead, and popped off when you pulled them back. We were both wearing black that day, mourning our own deaths. (Those little deaths that happen again and again.) Kisses planted grow rainbow flowers at twilight. We were waiting for twilight, that day. I pushed your fingers back into place on your hands, kissing the tips of each one. You cat-purred, I bird-screamed. Twilight rolled in like a fog, smooth and beautiful, the way it does sometimes in autumn. We didn't need anything more.Owl and Crow7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This