A Heretic's PsalmA Heretic's Psalm
His features shows me every face
I meet in crowd of empty space
Long ago I have lost control
Merciful devil, bless my soul
My eyes give his figure a smack
Leaving stigmata on his back
Draw him nearer's my only goal
Merciful devil, bless my soul
Darkest night to me reveals trace
To Lune's cold silver ears I howl
Deliver him to my embrace!
Merciful devil, bless my soul
Here I stand, hailing deities black
Begging them to hallow my prowl
Make him mine, let me meet my rack
Merciful devil, bless my soul
DilemmaDilemmaDilemma in Free Verse More Like This
Reach through the bubble
Orbits of shooting stars
Too flawless to be real
Those perfect circles suffocate
Crush the dormant fear
Memories of tomorrow drip down oh so loud
In a world where corners have not been invented
You're standing in your tears of joy
Or maybe it's another boy
Who offers you a scared gaze
From the mirror
Do you still wish truth's voice to sound clearer?
Wordless RhymesWordless RhymesWordless Rhymes in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Midnight paints the whole world black
Angel's wings as well as lies
You get all in one pack
That my restless hand supplies
Warm avalanche of my hair
Curtain to make vision blur
Forbids audience to stare
At where secrets now allure
You stay quiet, baby, hush
Just surrender to my lips
Tonight there's no need to rush
When I hold on to your hips
From my tongue slip wordless rhymes
Let them slide across your skin
I'll taste you a thousand times
From your thighs up to your chin
Although sometimes I am rough
And my nature makes me tease
Of that you can't get enough
Moan with pain, then sigh with ease
When you suffer, I carress
To relieve the aching need
That you so sweetly confess
So I'll give you what you plead
Without...Without TimeWithout... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Running for life from a heart torn in two
Halves those by a rusty needle are sewn
Together and the void makes the string
Promising sweet oblivion to bring
But you my love be deaf to that voice
Of mermaids - traitors offering choice
Trust me - don't enter those stairs leading down
In shimmering visions they'll let you drown
You chasing seconds to keep young your face
Going further and further towards the scales
Me crying my heart out at the shore
I love the true you gone forevermore
Enter my garden full of golden trees
May your feet be caressed by smoothest green grass
Come, pick the fruits but don't forget, please
Heavenly pleasures also shall pass
Sweetness that you cannot resist but to taste
Once will become bitter and dull on your lips
Ever since all our kisses will just come to waste
Though ghost of your hands I still feel on my hips
Glittering branches those now give us shade
So that world does not disturb our love
Watch them go dry as the passion will fa
RehabRehabRehab in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Ubiquitous sense of failure
Drills holes into what was soul
Content, tranquil waterfall
That swallowed both ships and sailors
Moments of true pain brought panic
An acute need to restore
What once was, will be no more
Blurs the simplest truth's reflex
Leaving blistered faith perplexed
For false prophet's recognition
Arrows wasted on star chasing
Just bare hands for self-defense
Sinner's zeal's the most immense
Eye-corners with wrinkles gracing
Jaws Of FloodJaws Of FloodJaws Of Flood in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Fish swim in the streets
Sea carries humans away
Water swallowed earth
Abysmal InfinityAbysmal InfinityAbysmal Infinity in Free Verse More Like This
Night - for moth an opportunity
Close to abysmal infinity
Knows quite too well
About the swell
Of souls knocking at gates of hell
To trade their singularity
For any kind of quality
Of human spell
"Love" you might tell
Where lonely ones in couples dwell
For moments of eternity
In halls of tainted clarity
'Till sounds the knell
And poisonous smell
Of thorns helps rose's passion quell
The CrusadeThe CrusadeThe Crusade in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Your fingertips imprinted
On plaster of my skin
Your curves upon mine tilted
About to commit sin
Room enveloped by darkness
Only your pale skin shines
As you cover my bareness
Arms become clinging vines
If my body is temple
Then may you be my priest
You, boy who's lips now tremble
Inside him roaring beast
So let your prayers tender
Now echo in my ears
To your sword I surrender
Quench thirst with virgin tears
Gathered in silken goblet
Yearn's my reason for crying
Get drunk with every droplet
Of boiling holy wine
I feel your pillars harden
Right after they touch ground
Exploring secret garden
For treasures to be found
Be careful with tongue drawing
An illegible map
Of pure snow that you're thawing
In country of my lap
That river harsh might drown you
Or make you hide in cave
Where warriors drop their armour
And master becomes slave
Prayer To LovePrayer To LovePrayer To Love in Free Verse More Like This
In world of grey
Chained in my arms
You've no chance other than stay
Here in this bed
Far from regret
Warmed by the thread
Of secrets better left unsaid
Eyes shine like coal
Digging a hole
In sheets that now contain your soul
While hungry wolves and fingers prowl
On nights like this
When lonely wind keeps weeping
I pray for love to find you sleeping
Here by my side
One time after another
First like my lover
And then like my brother
Paramour CavalcadeParamour CavalcadeParamour Cavalcade in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Slipping through the streets
Of hometown withering
Where bodies don't matter
Nor do faces
Those I see reflected
On wet pavement -
- Pillows to the hopeless
I may try to turn my head away
But this time of year
Even treetops resemble
A fish bone union, pitchforks and tridents
Stabbing the sky
That bleeds rain
In a desperate attempt
To clean Augeas' stables
Abandoned by their holder
Who left his herds to run wild
Or rot alive
As they please...
I run for life
And meet whores holding hands
All stepping aside
They make a corridor
For paramour cavalcade
My boys in fancy outfits
Carrying a wedding bed
A casket for me to work out in it
A hammock where they
Could finally find some peace of mind
And rest forevermore
Sarcastic laughter of sun
Fills my ears
Although I plugged them both
With my point-fingers
The king not been crowned
Allows himself to lose change
Of his light with such arrogant decadence
And beggars keep stuffing their pockets
Hunt For Wind And RainHunt For Wind And RainHunt For Wind And Rain in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You're a master of disaster
And you know I am no better
So forgive this little
Lack of confidence
I put into our surprisingly
In union of two beings those
Let's now be honest - shatter
And break practically everything that gets into their hands
You're scared of losing love
For then you would again be lonely
While I'm afraid of giving it
As I've always been used
Ghosts of fears and guilts
From past still follow our steps wanly
How can I trust among all
Those faces I'm the only
One you want and care about? Lest my heart will be bruised...
You say in love's no guarantee
Or it just becomes duty
Chasing after affection
Is like hunt for wind and rain
But I don't want to waste
My life reviving forlorn beauty
Nor watch pure angel's wings
Slowly turn sad, ragged and sooty
And long ago I learned pleasure goes hand in hand with pain
StuckYour empty gaze was the crack in the road,Stuck in Free Verse More Like This
staring past the pool colored
almost the same shade as last summer's paint job
meant to cover up the scratches
you left on the passenger door
when you were one tequila past sober.
I am a fly trapped in this spiderweb crack
that catches the blue-red urgency of
midnight sirens that you summoned without speaking.
They can't drown out the soundtrack
of our last sixteen seconds,
all caught in my head as if to prove
I don't want it there.
You looked up from letting your fingers linger
on the radio dial when your song came on,
laughing about how it reminded you of cotton candy
and your first boyfriend's cologne,
when your summer eyes caught the headlights,
like stained glass in full sun,
and all you could say was
You always talked about how
if you had three wishes you'd spend one on flying,
but I don't think this is what you meant.
I still have dreams about you telling me
the experience wasn't worth it.
I still reach for telephone to tell you
I Drink to the ShatteredHere's to the half-hopes,I Drink to the Shattered in Free Verse More Like This
who lie shallow in their graves,
comatose, their pulse forgotten.
And here's to unrequited love;
impossible thoughts between heartbeats,
the burning pang that follows.
A nod to the empty dreams,
their ankles hobbled, improperly set.
They walk nowhere.
Silence to commemorate the lost cause;
That never leave the womb.
To the broken and sleepless,
inane and insane,
the clueless, the lonely,
the outcasts forgotten,
to you I raise my glass.
Love is a BattlefieldI wonder if this is how a landmine feelsLove is a Battlefield in Free Verse More Like This
Is there that same metallic exhilaration?
Does the shrapnel twist into a grin,
false as the leaden skin that coats
its ticking spine?
Oh, but if only it had a backbone.
There's a countdown in your eyes
but we stare past each other
like shells in the dust.
I go off.
All my mind is a fireball,
and I see nothing but hollow wreckage.
I name it "past"
and move on,
our questions turned to casualties
in the twisting smoke.
Blink and You'll Miss ItThe wind reminds me ofBlink and You'll Miss It in Free Verse More Like This
the empty space to my left,
which I swear you filled
only minutes ago.
But if I rested my hand
where you were sitting,
it would be just as cold as
the realization that you're gone.
Strung OutConsider me hanging on the line,Strung Out in Free Verse More Like This
a dress without a body waiting for the sun,
vibrant when she's not heavy, waterlogged.
As a child, I enjoyed making orange smiles,
while wondering why we didn't have
a clothesline stretching from tree to tree
like I'd seen on the television.
I admired the way skirts became birds,
picked up by the wind they adored,
while sheets grabbed the wind like a sail,
and the clouds were always made of cotton,
and the denim sat like lead.
Now every time I put myself out to dry,
the sky gets heavy and breaks on me.
I am halfway towards being ready,
and then the rain rips me down again.
Maybe that's why we bought a machine
to wring the water from our clothes,
because there was no risk of bad weather inside.
Re-KindlingShe held the moment in her lungs.Re-Kindling in Free Verse More Like This
It lingered in the air
like a spiderweb strand;
she could feel its presence
more than see it.
She meditated on the human condition,
one hand on her chest like a prayer.
Hopeless was her heart two minutes ago,
now faithful in its hummingbird thrum.
"Ah," it whispered in her ear,
"you do remember love."
It's Not Coming BackAnd he was the voiceless, unforgiving wind.It's Not Coming Back in Free Verse More Like This
She screamed to his back while he forgot her name,
and each step he took into the sun
was met by the setting of hers.
It's a cold night where she stands,
and she coughs on the frost in her lungs,
choking on the memory of last night's air.
She mourns the death of yesterday
through nostalgic eyes,
and like a child, declares it's only sleeping.
The RunawayMy muse left a noteThe Runaway in Free Verse More Like This
in the frost on my window,
"Call me when your ink runs out."
I imagined her vaulting from the sill
into the freshly falling snow
cocking her hat just so
as she stepped into the East
before it iced over.
She leaves no prints for me to follow,
no re-imagined trail for me to trod,
and I could spend years
tumbling after her shadow,
only to find her
Half-Past a Different Kind of BrokenTrauma looks like my kitchen clock.Half-Past a Different Kind of Broken in Free Verse More Like This
they are dead
and the second hand stutters,
I imagine every inconsequential twitch
is a plea for the freedom
it will never see again.
When its futile heart finally gives out,
I won't try to fix the timepiece
because after all its wasted sufferings,
allowing again such a disjointed tic
would be a deeper level of cruelty.
Ninety-nineIt probably feels like a broken sigh,Ninety-nine in Free Verse More Like This
witnessing a century of repetition and change,
becoming a testament to human tenacity,
and watching too many wars on television.
The nursing home is too sterile for you,
but as your children near sixty,
with problems of their own,
you have no place in their houses.
While everybody visits,
they never stay for long enough.
you are lonely.
Your daydreams are like old jazz records--
sometimes you confuse them with memory.
Were you really such a beauty on your suburb streets?
Did you really love that boy so completely?
Perhaps you have forgotten.
NovemberAutumnNovember in Free Verse More Like This
and full breasted
with the changing winds,
chasing the smoldering gold
from the meadow;
in the slow waltz of leaves,
I feel scarlet
rush the roots of trees
and blaze the hawthorn's
leaving the valley
flushed and thriving,
waiting for November...
Night Never EndsNight never ends here -Night Never Ends in Free Verse More Like This
the thin blue line
a stranger packs in his bags
before losing his mind;
the scratch behind our eyes
that keeps us moving
down the highway.
It is a jail cell at three a.m.,
the warden playing cards,
whiskey wetting his dreams
where a spark lays waste
to a family left behind;
the backlight of a slum,
a thousand rooms of winter
and water leaking in a lightbulb
over your head.
It is midnight in a foxhole,
the strafe of friendly fire
like a flashlight to beat
into watching for a sign;
the last drink festering on formica
six inches of crushed tafetta
wearing out its welcome
on a barstool called home.
It is dawn in the mortuary
last night's pickings
carved up for christmas
special delivery to no one
who will care;
and the silent mourning bedlam
left thinking on the drainboard
carted out for the trashmen
to haul away
Star CollectorThey said he collected stars -Star Collector in Free Verse More Like This
plucked them one
from the abyss
left dangling off
with his father's best
He could feel the future
in their shiny points
and the sharp prick
of something maddening
glowing under their silver skins;
and when he held them
their embers glowing -
tiny spines curling up
to tell him stories.
But their laugh
was what he loved best -
sea breeze and green glass
and the whistle of a dandelion
shedding its blustery mane
across the pebbles
of the pond.
DriftwoodDriftwood in Free Verse More Like This
around the dawn
as if begging
for a favor,
so smooth and sharp
worn bare by August -
a mermaid's rib
rubs salt from sand,
the battering lilt of seagulls
against the summer sun.
SuicideThis lovely suicide -Suicide in Free Verse More Like This
the hiss of smoke
dangling between your fingers
and the loss of breath
that claimed your sleep.
Your limbs -
somnolent, wrapped against
the autumn chill
fingers draped with paper angels
as someone you never knew
tucked a lily behind your dreams.
I could almost hear
your skin speaking
eloquent and parched as summer,
wondering if you
had landed somewhere holy
or if god
had kept you waiting.
AloneI sit alone and mark the time -Alone in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
aware of how the hours crawl -
with solitude a friend of mine.
I find my thoughts a careless scrawl,
meandering among the days -
myself the loser in it all.
I view my world through lonely haze,
aware of loss on which I stand
and never think to mend my ways.
There's not a soul to lend a hand;
there's not a man to call me friend.
menshe liked her menmen in Free Verse More Like This
spare and sparse
lean of words
without flowers in their hands
their shirt sleeves rolled up
to show the world
how hard they lived,
their legs tucked into boots
as thick and dark as calluses
she liked them sprawled
elbows on the table
their forks demanding her attention
spearing the meat
like clean kill
chewing with the gusto
of young rams
their teeth reminding her
of how devouring was
a holy act
and she would dream
of those hands
curious beasts of prey
skin freckled with the grit of stars
and gravel from wrong turns
making paths across her blouse
pulling her skirt up
to meet their questions
and of how her throat
like it had no will
at the whisper of her name.
DeployThe ladies were aghastDeploy in Free Verse More Like This
the day you wore red
to your sister's funeral;
but you didn't want to live
safe as a new bed.
You said you didn't want a wedding -
all that white
made you too tired
and only the lucky
got to pick their fates.
So I touched you
in your war zone,
that place you were most fickle
and hoped my parachute
would not deploy
or land us
in the wrong place.
Maybe I will pull
your bliss cord after all
but that look in your shoulders
and your skirt keeps closing
over my head
like a venus fly trap
caught at prayers.
WarningThat dark twinge of stormWarning in Free Verse More Like This
unbalancing my left eye -
lover, take warning.
I came through the back door,
unhinged and savoring
all your little pieces.
You said you loved my twisted english,
the way I broke words apart,
just like daddy's enemies.
So slide me under your doormat -
I miss those dirty feet
and the disconnect
of your tongue.
You know I love how you
waste my evenings
and bring me the dangerous bits
only a lover could swallow.
Desert SongThe night is listingDesert Song in Free Verse More Like This
too far to the left,
asphalt carrying the road
deep into the canyon
where the cacti keep
a lonely vigil.
I taste gravel
and the crunch of stars
like chrome pressed
against the windshield,
its cobweb dusting the roof above me,
my face cracking the dashboard
like God's own map.
Breathing becomes an art
and I can hear
the crazy clatter of limbs
as the gas tank makes
with my soul
but a solitary lizard
to hear the desert's song.
ArchaeologyYou have been claimed.Archaeology in Free Verse More Like This
I have seen my competition holding perfumed picks
and daggers in their eyes.
They know the value of the treasure I have found,
but I'm already in your skin.
While I'm here, in my space beside your heart,
would you mind if I gently took a rib?
This is archaeology, my love.
I will sew you up with kisses;
stitch you up with x's and oh's
x's and oh's
Hold me steady,
while I chisel our names into the bone that crossed your heart,
like kids in campus trees:
I will sacrifice a rib if you will do the same.
We will tie a bow around them, and send them into space,
and Orion and Andromeda will be as jealous as the rest
when they read our names upon our bones
and see our love alive inside the marrow.
This is archaeology.
Long after we are dead, our story will live on.
DorianHe strides in with golden shoes,Dorian in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
smelling like he bathed in booze,
showing off his new tattoos,
and taboos he bought in every hue.
"Possessions and pleasures, sustain me."
He turns from the mirror to his bed,
king-sized, silk sheets in shades of red,
lays down his sweaty, aching head,
prays again with fear his soul is dead,
"Possessions and pleasures, sustain me."
A Poet IsA poet is a liar with a silver tongue pen, and a bleeding heart on the other end.A Poet Is in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
We are anagrams and metaphors and sphinxes in sheep skin.
Every letter is an actor that we send into the wind,
And we're only as good as the words you believe in.
Wild Flower VillanelleWild flowers bloom where wild fires burned,Wild Flower Villanelle in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
on ashes, as on light, did they dine,
but that has not turned their petals gray.
With spring, life and color have returned
to a field near a tall, blackened pine.
Wild flowers live where wild fires burned.
Ruin raged red, so strongly they yearned
for a sky free of deadly sun shine.
Petals wilt, but they never turned gray.
That fire's devastation was not earned,
the flora uprose, "This land is mine!"
Wild flowers boomed where wild flowers burned.
Dead grass in their mouths, earth ashes turned
from loathsome to a fare almost fine,
ashes can not turn their petals gray.
With strength through tragedy they learned
from nature what is harsh and divine.
Wild flowers bloom where wild fires burned,
and nothing can turn their petals gray.
She Is DeathShe is Death,She Is Death in Free Verse More Like This
but not Release.
She is Madness,
but with Purpose.
She is Malady,
She is Plague,
and her dance card is never as full
as the posies in your pocket,
or the stars in your eyes
[or the ashes in her hands.]
Dying LoveMy darkling darling,Dying Love in Free Verse More Like This
the sun is setting,
falling sylph-like on our love.
Once so daring,
now flicker fading,
is our will o' wisping love.
We have been straining
and have been failing
at rekindling our love.
They say that trying,
more than succeeding,
is everything in love.
No more midnight meetings,
or morning greetings,
all will be changing, love.
And in the gloaming,
we will be saying
farewell to this dying love.
StasisDreams only take you so farStasis in Free Verse More Like This
before they crush you
and their un-fulfillment.
You cannot move
with bones so broken,
and a stomach
with swallowed pride.
And wing'd hope flies from the fear
of a life well wasted,
leaving you nightmare-shackled
to your potential
screaming in stasis.
FearlessI am not afraid of death,Fearless in Free Verse More Like This
nothingness sounds peaceful.
No, I do not fear the void-
as nothing it would be a homecoming.
And I am not afraid of being forgotten,
for some memories are better left faded.
But if I am lucky
I will leave behind words
that speak for themselves
and mean more than I ever did.
The Science of LivingWe are water and ichor,The Science of Living in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
we are air and memoirs,
we are fire and ore
and clay struck by stars.
This is the science of living.
We are arsenic and porphyry,
we are helium and spirit,
we are mercury and malady
and neon and kismet.
This is the science of living.
We are roses and riot,
we are daisies and sanguine,
we are bracken and velvet
and amaranth and omen.
This is the science of living.
Death From Silence"Sticks and stonesDeath From Silence in Free Verse More Like This
may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me."
Though, I tell you this,
when I'm alone,
I know silence will kill me.
For silence can shatter
the confidence of a king,
and set the fire
of paranoia blazing.
in ways you have never seen.
you will never hear
when the quiet approaches
on cat-footed shadows
to fill your ears.
See, sticks and stones
can break our bones,
if we let them,
words can wound us.
But the lack of words
JaneYou know me bestJane in Scraps More Like This
as the one he loved first,
but 'twas only Boleyn
who could quench his thirst.
The good Lord was my friend,
hers were her books,
she became Queen by wit,
and I by my looks;
I was meek blonde,
she striking ebony,
how could I compare
to such a Goddess before me?
who gave him a daughter,
I gave him the child
he had always sought after.
I gave him my love,
and I gave him my son,
but 'tis she he loves most
when all's said and done.
My son grew pale
and my son grew ill;
were it not for his father
he'd be living still!
I loved my son more
than I did my King,
and he let Edward die
for such a meagre thing
as a crown. A pressure.
A pride. A weight.
My son was a child
until he was eight.
Then, at nine,
a King he became;
far too young for such
intrigue and fame.
We're together in death,
Henry and I,
in eternal sleep;
side by side.
I feel no peace
lying beside him;
I was but third
of a six-wived whim.
You know me best
as the one he loved first,
there were f
Ogre PrinceIt was a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the wind was blowing, and -Ogre Prince in Short Stories More Like This
"Did you know you've got intestine under your finger nails?"
"Do I?" Rose Red paused to investigate and pursed her lips upon finding the declaration true. "Damn." The pair, a tall boy with sandy wet hair and a lanky girl with equally wet ginger braids, continued walking.
"You're going to have to wash your hands before Wolf sees; his diet's been going so well lately." Hansel said, shoving his own hands into his pockets. Their leather boots trod on grass that had seen too much sun over the summer, and was starting to brown.
"Pfft. I don't see why the idiot wants to be a vegetarian all of a sudden anyway," Hansel's lips quirked into a smile as Rose tossed one damp braid over her shoulder. "I've already washed my hair for the sod; he's hardly going to notice the teensiest bit of blood under my nails."
"You'd be surprised. That guy's nose is impressive. Besides, you know why he's trying to stay away from meat; he's
a siren's song.her ribcage burst into flowersa siren's song. in Free Verse More Like This
as her lungs swam to sea
and the world was silent
-like a film set on mute-
as it watched her dance
into her coral grave.
she grinned and laughed
and all you could hear
was the metallic scraping
of her tongue on her teeth
as her coppery laugh
fell into the ocean-
like a penny onto concrete.
her hair was a tangle of seaweed
drenched in brine
and adorned with salt flecks
that caught the sun in waves
crashing along the shoreline
in the treble notes of symphonies.
ensnared in wanderlust,
she ran towards the current
in hopes of finding herself
among the lost.
she wore fish-scales
on her clavicle
and sung her way down
to the bottom of atlantis.
the ships out at bay that day
only remember one thing:
she sunk like the titanic,
her bones tearing at the seams
and all that remained of her
were two hands
(whose knuckles were mountains
and skin was land)
receding into the curls
as the earth drowned into the sea.
and there was nothing left on the horizon
Night CattleShe owns her flesh.Night Cattle in Free Verse More Like This
Old goddess, beautiful decay-
draping along the length of her bones
like a Shakespearean sonnet.
When the graveyard lurkers
come to pray upon a carcass,
they will howl their mournful sorrow
to the earth below their claws.
Devouring her, respectfully.
She, with an aged bird spirit:
unable to be caged.
Ask Me To Write a PoemAsk me to write a poemAsk Me To Write a Poem in Free Verse More Like This
about kissing witches in my sleep.
Ask me to write a poem
about the bump on my middle finger
from forcing pen to paper.
Ask me to write a poem
about the discolored bruises on my knees
the poetry written in ink upon my flesh
the love in a foreign tongue on my wrist.
Ask me to write a poem
my possessive Siamese,
about my rose thorn teeth,
and the battle scars I wear like trophies.
Ask me to write a poem
about how my own words make me sick,
about how I swear I'll die by the pen.
Ask me to write a poem
about boys and peaches
and how I wish they tasted just as sweet,
about how I sanded away layer, after layer
after layerjust to see if I really bleed ink.
Ask me to write a poem.
TigressShe is the kind of girl who smothers herself in astronomy,Tigress in Free Verse More Like This
New Age philosophies and coffee shop poetry.
All fire and dragon scaled-
She hides her tiger stripes behind bruises and ink stains,
living her life by way of verse-
throwing Hemingway around like insults.
Writing her letters to the moon,
she hides her heart underneath her own floorboards,
folding blank paper birds just to set them free at 3AM.
But, it's the lipstick stained collars,
the rose thorned fingers,
and the dead stars in her chest cavity
that tell her- even a tigress can bleed.
Lonely Gods"I wish my body to be a staircaseLonely Gods in Free Verse More Like This
to heaven." She said, "A conduit
of lonely Gods."Swaying
pendulum hips, she, she
was made of stardust.- Scars sleeping
above a city of sweet bones, stirring
like sun-stricken scorpions during
hollow painkiller nights,
mistaking her redred burns
for Apollos kisses.
"Sadly, this body has whispered away
the last of my secrets."
SLAMAt a young age,SLAM 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.
RepossessionYour words tore into my abdomen like vultures feeding onRepossession in Free Verse More Like This
the raw emotion their filthy wings stirred up from the dust.
My ribs cracked from the blow.
But, I think sometimes
of how these were the ribs
that should have chased you away from me,
quietly wondering how you managed to
slither past this cage of bone and flesh
to engrave your fingerprints into my marrow.
You were sweat & spice & scars-
a thunderstorm of black and blue sex
jarring and devouring my insides,
shaped a faithless religion
through the cracks & broken shards
of my hollowed out womb.
(I want my insides back.)
Missing BonesWe spent our nights star gazingMissing Bones in Free Verse More Like This
on the top of that local bar on 5th street.
You said you loved me by night,
that no star or moon in any given universe
could compare to me; that we were lost warriors
searching for a home within the roots of one another.
I believed myself a wandering ghost among the living,
searching for missing bones and the warmth of another's grave.
You shook me then,
kissing me where it hurt most-
just to test a theory.
"Like dead birds,
you are not faceless;
your rib cage has a meaning."
And I believed I loved you then
underneath the moon and stars
tipsy on your smile and your words
and your warmth.
Your hands must be the thieves
who stole these thin bones of mine-
because, I never wanted you more.
wet scribbles, tattooed tragedyI am shedding my skinwet scribbles, tattooed tragedy in Free Verse More Like This
like the poetry that bleeds
from your ink-cracked lips
onto the bare bones of my
Unfold these moon-shy limbs
that chase silence
& beg stay-with-me.
For you are the only verse
hidden within this labyrinth
of scar-damaged flesh.
I long to set this world aflame.I once dreamt of ashes and dragons,I long to set this world aflame. in Free Verse More Like This
as dark ravens loomed over my sleeping form,
planting cadaver kisses along my neck.
Stepping into a river of colors, I contemplated
smoke halos and the unlit cigarette between my teeth.
I asked myself if all of this was worth it-
gasoline rainbows painting landscapes along my thighs.
I'd never smoked a day in my life, but I liked to play with fire.
[Light a match and watch me burn. ]
Milky Waymy body is a road mapMilky Way in Free Verse More Like This
of hazard signs
but on the days
when the mirror
is nice to me,
i can hear
like little racing
beneath my skin:
you are not worthless.
you are strong.
your ribcage has a meaning-
these bruises are
ste ti & you are the Milky Way.
Sky EyesDesert hands tell talesSky Eyes in Free Verse More Like This
of a hundred arid summers, but
you are no longer as cloudless as they
(there is a storm
creeping through blue, blue veins).
But tell the sky to keep her sorrow,
that grey cascade blurring against
eyelids and horizons;
and suppress her misbegotten
droplets, seeping into the sodden
for there is still sun in your sky eyes.
AThere is birdsong andA in Free Verse More Like This
sun-drenched long limbs,
sprawled across India green;
wet hair haloes and
a restless route scrawled
up arms and over hands.
There are blueberry smiles,
feet upon dashboards,
and city-light fireflies...
then there is you.
Always, always you.)
The Rainfall KidThere are raindrops on his fingersa glistening cluster of perfectly silver droplets that read like some shining, ethereal roadway mapthe night that he comes for her with the thunder of a summer storm rolling forward on his footsteps. The low rumble of it jolts her from a book induced slumber, the cover rough beneath hands and the jumble of last-read letters blurring on the underside of blinking eyelids as rain begins to fall. Although it's almost been longer than memory will allow, she knows that there is no mistaking the sudden upheaval of the outside world for anything other than his arrivalafter all, it hasn't stormed in years.The Rainfall Kid in Short Stories More Like This
Soon enough, her shoulders and the soles of her bare feet are collecting water along with the hardback that had slipped, forgotten, through outstretched fingersnow laying broken-spined with white pages exposed and its words all bleeding together in thin rivers of smudged ink. The leafless trees seem to shudder, emerging from
MelpomeneHear her sing of sun-kissed,Melpomene in Free Verse More Like This
heavy-lidded tragedies that roll
off her tongue as sweetly as
sugared violets and as naturally
as nightfall; but bruise the lungs
of those who breathe them in.
She is no poet's muse, but
these summer-drunk revellers
will never know better.
Pill Poppers And The Trends Of King Arthur's CourtBlue pill, blue pill, how will you spill?Pill Poppers And The Trends Of King Arthur's Court in Free Verse More Like This
From magical beans on my windowsill?
You sprout, I pluck, not unlike a crook,
The pharmacy lotto of medical bills.
Blue pill, blue pill, gone in for a kill.
You spared a life, but life's been stilled.
He swallowed and chewed and paid hot shit for you:
There ain't no such thing as having your fill.
Neighbors, neighbors all gather in droves
To carol to the tune of their latex gloves
This cul-de-sac doesn't dare to give back,
A toast to the wallets that labor its love.
Blue pill, blue pill, how will you spill?
Into my lap with immaculate skill?
I lived and I died, fifty milligram pride
The benefactor of my premature will.
Mount KitchenspoonMountain, my sister,Mount Kitchenspoon in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
From the highest crown,
You glanced too far at kingdoms
That were never your own.
Goodnight, wild fright,
Red from blood and shaven bone,
My sister, a mountain
Desolated white crone.
The munch, the crunch of stilts
Poetic injustice endures!
Trees to toothpicks wilt.
O wicked face to flutter off
In piles of dun snow,
Whispers of a coming cough.
Mountain, my sister,
My sister, the fortress
With cracklings from her skull
And her feet in a harness.
My sister, a mountain,
A wanton ornament,
The state of all things grandiose,
The staunched sky's lament.
Sir's TheologyBlack, grey, and blue in the rainbowSir's Theology in Free Verse More Like This
And pink and gold in the rain,
Bloodied and bruised at the wedding
Cleanliness oft dyes the stains.
Rose-fashioned cheeks on the corpses;
A child who reeks of cadaver.
A memory upsets the future
And backwards we tumble thereafter.
A scientist hollers, "My God!" as
A preacher cites psalms of Einstein:
"Science without religion is lame,
Religion without science is blind."
Truth is assumed by believers
In ignorance masked as blind faith
"An angel!" he clings to the lie
When, truly, his reaper's a wraith.
These murkiest sources reveal
What mirrors so often condemn,
That hindsight beckons man forward
To never be sightless again.
AbrasionsYou cannot say your heart has stopped in your chest, because it is pounding so hard and so fast that your hands clench and unclench to its erratic tempo. So much so that your eyesight blurs and your breaths cross in many wanton attempts to succeed a normal pace. Your chest compresses and all the weight from your knees lifts you seek the floor as a companion, a burial place.Abrasions in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
It is here all things unmend. The sweating palm is limp and the phone is unhanded. Your eyes lift. But the words are too heavy to liberate you.
Get to the hospital. There's been an accident
You see, in your mind's eye, myriad accidents, all of them begetting blood and terror. Confusion and mayhem. Loss and still water.
She's in the ER
What has your youngest sister survived? What has she witnessed? What does she now have to overcome?
Who has everyone turned into?
Prison Break RomanceOpen the drain,Prison Break Romance in Free Verse More Like This
Lye magnet scum.
I, the yellow dye,
Truths? Never quite.
Your heart's compression.
I see bleached memories.
Juniper trees on
A vast-fading sunset.
Somewhere in the distance
Someone is whispering.
What have I done?
Was this your apology?
I have no choice but to accept.
When Your Lover is a MoonI love you, aware of my exile, your exileWhen Your Lover is a Moon in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Between us; clouds, wind, lightning,
thunder, ice and fire
Glad to tear myself apart
just for your eyes,
and sew you a cover from my skin
When love is big, and the lover is a moon,
do not tremble; one bird in winter nights
The tender sky touches all the scared wings
And cares for the wonderfully pale lilies
I walk on dry leaves, everyday
I create hope from that rainbow
I talk the language of trees
And I make a country from roses
Every day, I want to ride the sea,
every time they say no sailing allowed
Everyday, I build a home for our birds,
every time the floods take it away
I love you, until the day they put me out,
with eyes as wide as your skies
Until I disappear slowly, slowly
down the purple cliff
Until I feel you become some of me,
all of me
I love you
The martyr of loveI am still a stranger in your battlefieldThe martyr of love in Free Verse More Like This
My rifle on my shoulder, I do not mean to fight
My tears cutting the ground under your feet
You stand over my bleeding body
Your cold blade dripping your way out
You stab me, once and twice, you grin at my wounds
My blood meets the thirsty salty soil
They greet, they hug, they mate under your feet
They give birth to the wild bloody roses
Where every wound blooms once more
I hear your walk away, leaving my barren land
I pray for death to push the arrow deeper in my back
To take the last hopeless breath, the last breeze of love
Bury me where the old moon was born
Let my head rest in a land of cinnamon and honey
When the white hands arrive with their remedy
Tell them all my birds left me and flew north
I do not wish to heal, I do not pray for cure
Battered and broken, my heart left the shore
Fields of Golden WheatMy fingers travel through your hair, fields of golden wheatFields of Golden Wheat in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Your lips have the taste of an ancient salty ocean
My childhood dreams of blue birds and their heartbeat
The delicate fragrance coming from eastern lands
The softness of a delighted soul and your sunlight
The black wings of a sad night and my heart in your hands
I listen to you, the language of birds, the mystery tone remains
I hide you, inside my eyelids, between the layers of my heart
Where you choose to live; mixed with every color in my veins
AttachedI grew roots for my heartAttached in Free Verse More Like This
in every twisted chamber
Hitting the ground, deep down layers of earth
There, sleeps every vein I have
Heart Shape PetalsThe broken flower travelsHeart Shape Petals in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
From the green abyss to the corners of my eyes
Sits there, waits the heart shape petals
Your angel suffers, a dying bird on my cheek
On my palms he drew the map
Don't follow me , he said, my heart is your light
When the sun comes up again, throw the ashes
Where the broken flower lives, as it lives no more
Where words dance, each in a different dress
Take my heart from the book of prayers
And let the river of sadness pours into my eyes
Thank you for your love, my last miracles
Thank you for your love, where God's secret lies
I am a PoetYou ask me who I am , where did I come fromI am a Poet in Free Verse More Like This
I say: I am a poet, I was born out of the blazing silk of my words
My heart is an eternal rebel, since the dawn of creation
I'm the master of my own words, the keeper of God's secret
I'm the story of that rose shivering on the freezing hill
I live in that oasis of light, in a world beyond your world
The stars stare at my hopes, and hell trembles between my fingers
The night dreads my pain, the morning sleeps on my pillow
I create my words from the tissue of my veins
I weave the images from the feather of my eyelids
I wash my sins away, when I repent between the lines
My words move slowly between your palms, climb to your soul
To hug that poet, who sleeps between the chambers of your heart
When the world is mud, thorns and empty substance
I create my own, where the ground is basil and the walls are none