StuckYour empty gaze was the crack in the road,
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
AcheIt comes and goesAche in Free Verse More Like This
like an unwelcome houseguest,
leaving me with messes I don't need,
and it never shuts the door
to keep the cold out.
I tried shutting off the lights
and closing the blinds,
twisting the key in the padlock
and boarding the windows,
but as long as light can
seep through the cracks,
this shadow will follow
and dig its fingers into my shoulders.
I bruise easily, it knows,
and it revels in watching
me shift in discomfort
while it grips me.
Like a ghost,
it won't let go.
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.
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.
AdriftRun headlong into the wind with me.Adrift in Free Verse More Like This
We are only ships on this endless blue,
without anchor, north star, or compass spinning.
Find me as I lose myself with you.
SeparateYou are on the opposite sideSeparate in Free Verse More Like This
of this window.
Press your palm against the pane,
The heat of our fingers will
fog the glass,
and in this mist we create,
we will finally meet.
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.
Footprints in the SnowThey're meant for melting,Footprints in the Snow in Free Verse More Like This
and someday all this ground will hold
is memories of walking together,
and walking away.
We will not forget.
Time will do that for us.
HeavyWhen you let me goHeavy in Free Verse More Like This
by the side of the road,
please remember the string
that you tied to my soul.
I'm the balloon you inflated
just to let go;
the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
Why'd you have to cut this
the thin wire trailing
from my heartbeat to yours?
Remember the science of
the desolate sky,
because the night is too cold
and I'm sinking so slowly down.
EasyWas there ever a girl so strange?Easy in Free Verse More Like This
Smoky hearted, grabbed at the waist
by the next passing breeze.
She keeps one foot stuck in
the wrong side of her conscience,
the other grounded in nothing.
She replaces men like lipstick, she
wears her promiscuity like
last night's perfume.
The TimekeeperI am the hour-counter,The Timekeeper in Free Verse More Like This
collecting time like water caught
on the bottom of a glass.
The wasted minutes you exchanged
for blue-sky dreaming,
the seconds on the porch with
your song-bird smile,
they're all here:
stuck to the sides of my hourglass.
The windowsill paint
has faded where my elbows rested,
my breath-fog a permanent mist
on the drooping pane.
like the emptiness after snowfall,
They slip through the slats
in my wicker basket
as I try to collect them.
StarsFat and fuzzy stars tonight, baby blue comfortStars in Free Verse More Like This
Singing lullabies, soothing through the cold clear night
Promises of spring;
Windowpane lookers, abandon your sorrow
Wide-eyed children, believe that tomorrow
Unseen, the stars
The stars still sing
TiredI am tired, heavy-footed, worn with wear I wear my hairTired in Free Verse More Like This
Cold air blows through windows trying to nip the buds
I watch the cigarette smoke whip through the air currents
Saddened by the sun's insistence, shining on a day like
I am rust, I am crushed metal, junkyard darkness, graveyard
I can't remember when I remembered what I'm trying so hard
Fire in oil drums replace the sun and the screaming and singing's
I can't sing anymore, like Clancy can't, and the noise in my head's a
Notes To SelfItchy grindy nervewracked jitterNotes To Self in Free Verse More Like This
Blinds closed against the July sun
Awake, alive, annoyed with the world
Note: need beer, now, later might be
Show me something good in the world
Something not monstrous and vile
Awake, drained, attuned to the noise
Note: see shrink Tuesday, call doc
River monsters deliver yesterday's news
I can't help but read again anyway
Over and over in a circle of sorrow
Note: hear the river's secrets, discuss
Why's the day so bright and warm
Without you in it, should be dark and cold
Coming apart at the seams, twittering gibberish
Note: stay out of the river, causes
BirdtalkI know that the Starman will be waiting in the sky, butBirdtalk in Free Verse More Like This
I don't think about it under these fluorescent lights
I remember when Wal-Mart wasn't a hospital, the world
wasn't a graveyard, and my spine wasn't ripped out
Didn't the birds used to talk? I seem to remember that
SymphonyIt's the measured breathing of someone on oxygen, here in the small hours. I don't know where it's coming from. I hear it beneath the white noise of the air conditioner.Symphony in Free Verse More Like This
It's the faint jumpiness of a phone ringing, a monitor flatlining on a loop in my memory.
It's the droning in my own ears, the hum-buzz of the tinnitus, the electricity and insect sounds.
It's the whistle of a train, much louder than it should be. It soars over the top of it all. There are no trains nearby.
It's four AM again. The silence is not golden.
I Took the Blue BusYou didn't put the phone back, left your pills on the tableI Took the Blue Bus in Free Verse More Like This
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
You made cookies I didn't eat, watched movies I didn't see
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
You talked, then you didn't, then you talked some more
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
You took the elevator, she took the stairway to the stars
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
You swept out memories, wrote a manuscript of dreams
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
I had coffee and cigarettes alone at four AM
I went thirty minutes without thinking of her
She took the stairway to the stars
I took the blue bus to nowhere
Heading HomeBitter-boned, I break and crumble to dustHeading Home in Free Verse More Like This
My pockets full of keys to places that no longer exist
An oystershell ashtray full of butts and ashes beside me
Testify to dreams of green hedges and white picket fences
A tapping on the door, a rapping on the wall
Ghosts always like this hour just before dawn
A bird screeches and I wake again to the stinging day
And shufflestep towards home from a thousand worlds away
Before The Stars FadeThe world has grown smaller, more insignificantBefore The Stars Fade in Free Verse More Like This
Little men run about in the darkness, screaming their inanities
Quiet listening is abandoned in favor of shouting louder
over the top of one's neighbors
Dreams once soft and sweet have become meat for them
to tear apart and grind with their teeth, demanding recognition
But no one is ever fulfilled, untiringly grasping at shadows
The world shrinks a little more, and children grow up fast
I can hear the screaming and shouting from my bed, through
closed windows, all want to make their presence known
Seeing like a cat, hearing like a bat, I feel the need to go out and
shout with them, to howl my existence, to
eat fresh dreams
Dying is no way to live, but its all we seem capable of doing
Last one on earth, please turn off the lights
Maybe we can remember one dream that hasn't been mauled, one last time
One smile before the stars all fade and we're left with nothing
and become nothing
EastMy window faces east, I sit at my desk and stareEast in Free Verse More Like This
at the headlights crawling west past the backlit buildings
Sometimes I watch from the roof, looking west
just to get a different view, but it's all the same
Days come and go, nights come and go, but I stay
There's a place by the ocean I dream about, early morning mist
grey water, grey skies becoming blue, solitude, stillness
I keep a key in my pocket with "love" written on it, and wonder
what it might unlock; maybe trade the city dust for ocean spray
Someday, one day, but not today, it's never today
I close the blinds against the rising of the sun and go back to work
But the key in my pocket is warm against my thigh, it says "fly"
But I wait; fate will find me in the right place at the right time
It always does, somehow, and my brain whispers to my heart
to be patient, good things wait, but farther down the line
A Dirty FloorThe yellowed linoleum is stained with uninterpretable patternsA Dirty Floor in Free Verse More Like This
Perhaps ten thousand nights of decadence, maybe ten thousand days of happy children
Thin sunlight through dirty windows shows only battered confusion
Leaving traces of lives that never meant a goddamned thing
No more than abstract patterns on a dirty floor
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
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
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
Where the world makes senseI let my head on this pillow, everytime I sinkWhere the world makes sense in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Where all the heavy thoughts rest and the heart sings
Between the world's pain and my agony, there is a place
I close the eyes, I breathe, I rise and I'm there again
I am the same child again,chasing the summer breeze
Carrying all the colorful dreams on my shoulders
With eyes as big as the waves, and a heart where birds nest
There, where every butterfly takes colors from my palms
And the thirsty deers come drink from my spring
There where the world made sense
I am there, and the restless mind is home for peace
When you told me joy had features and a face, my face
I touch the sandy beach , and one heart is never enough
I eat from every daisy in the white field, I drink the morning dew
I cover my cold skin with sunlight and sunflowers petals
Every now and then, I let my head sink, I let the world sink
I go back where I can hug the sky and walk on foamy clouds
Where I can be a little bird, that small daisy in a white field
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
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
My Rainbow bucketThe gentle touch of your lips on my cold foreheadMy Rainbow bucket in Free Verse More Like This
The soft kiss on my palms, and I wake up, I look at you
You say It's morning, you say you love me, then you leave
Do you know what you leave behind , It is not me
Now, the world is black and white, all is concrete and ugly
The walls are pure cement and sand, and open land
There are weeds growing on the bed, and I cannot leave
When the black shadow sits behind my back,
Watches, waits for me to move,
I will not move
It Keeps taking all the light,
It dims my hopes and breathes my air
I cannot look, I cannot pray, I cannot make a sound
I crawl in bed, my arms around my knees,
I wait for you
The day is almost dead, and now you are home
You take me in, you dip me in a big bucket of rainbow
You soak my every cell with every color that is
And I am me again, I can see again,
I can breathe again
And the black ugly shadow slips down
With his tiny wrinkled hands, he runs in shame
Hides behind the door, waits for th
Peace in AgonyThe same place, the same five inches spacePeace in Agony in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My pain is laughing at my last smile
The eyes are blind this morning, every morning
My voice disappeared, drowned inside me
Lying here and time running behind me
How does a world shrink and squeeze you
How does a heart find peace in agony
Getting so small, smaller than yesterday,
My world is smaller everyday, in every single way
Smaller than this small window
Smaller than the smallest cube of sugar
Smaller than the crumbs on my carpet
Smaller than all the dreams I had
Bigger than all the dreams I still have
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
MotherMy longing for you weakens my heartMother in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
All the birds are silent as we grow apart
Will you leave me to my destiny
Will you come and find me
I spell your name in fear to remember
Scared to feel thorns in my pulse, burning rush
Your radiate face is more than a figment
Yet, impossible to touch
Mother,why didn't I kiss your hands everyday
Do you hear my prayers mother, they are all for you
I send them every morning with drops of dew
What words can do, when my all is still so few
You are here, when it rains on those hills above
When I imagine your laugh and feel your love
When the pink clouds come by, stand by and pass
You are here when my heart is a pile of shattered glass
A Heretic's PsalmA Heretic's PsalmA Heretic's Psalm in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
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
After The RainAfter The RainAfter The Rain in Free Verse More Like This
Soaked with holy rain
Of love you were making
To the shell that contains
The real me
Enraptured by your face's reflections
Gleaming in puddles resting
On my country's torso
I can't tell where you end
And I begin
Nor where these tears come from
And where sweet moments go to
When they say farewell
To what you left in me
And what you took away
Out of drawers
Those I didn't know I had at all
The Golden FeatherThe Golden FeatherThe Golden Feather in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Midsummer nights revive old tales
And magic long forgotten
Mayflies above the lake play scales
Clouds reflect fields of cotton
Cool soothing breeze tangles the hair
Of green carpets on meadows
Where butterflies and poppies share
Kisses nestled in shadows
So lightly, barely touching ground
There hand in hand walk lovers
Two hearts by velvet sunset crowned
Reign over fragile flowers
Like ancient phoenix earth is burned
Each evening in sun's tether
For us, fools, meant to crave and yearn
Stays love - a golden feather
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?
A VisionA VisionA Vision in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Celibacy of thoughts
Hurts mind just like broken glass
From violated window panes
Makes sore feet bleed in extasy
When all the effort put into
Melting sand and cooling it
Is turned to waste
By just one kiss of
An eager stone
On a million perfect flaws
Of what once was
A single flawless perfection
Disturbed dreams dance
Those will never come
While shameless innocence
Is patiently laying herself
Down to sleep
Charcoal NymphCharcoal NymphCharcoal Nymph in Free Verse More Like This
Last night I saw no stars
Only dreams those whipped
The canvas of my bedsheets
Eagerly like sugarcane
They say heavenly lanterns
Upon sinners do not shine
But don't my lips pray fervently
To your lips every night?
There's a thin line between
Damnation and salvation
And it feels strangely tempting
To dance across it blindfolded
Dressed in just faith
In that your heart is true
I'm condemned, bareheaded
And longing for you
A pagan nymph
From ancient wise books
No good for your prophets
An angel for you
With purest charcoal
You've drawn wings on my back
For your passion's painted
With red and black
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
What Men Must DoWhat Men Must DoWhat Men Must Do in Free Verse More Like This
Our love profane will make you pay
For every note of laughter
Greedy for saliva and sweat
Eventually your tears
Born to circulate in fountains
Where after climax follows downfall
Splashing on little Cupids
Who keep pulling on their devilish tails
Lies taste so sweet sliding along
The tongue teasing your ears
Although they are just remakes
Of songs you've heard before
Deliver music to fellow men
And women for that matter
Kisses profound like a merry-go-round
Shall haunt you in your sleep
While half-burned words on pages blank
Fill fireplace with weep
My lonely grieving hands there delve
Smudge ashes on cold lips
In sad outdated love letters
Memories die and burn
Me, like all other men, for life,
I am sentenced to yearn
Ribcage SymphoniesRibcage SymphoniesRibcage Symphonies in Free Verse More Like This
Passion has no taste
It just burns your tongue
While fingers compose symphonies
On nameless ribcages
Black widows don't label their pets
Other than with dull numbers
Making disappointing engagements
Worthwhile episodes of a life wasted
On selfish charity, superiority
Damage of clarity of human heart
Dwelling frightened, cracked and murky
In its fragile shell
Soul is a carton box
That implodes in heavy rain
While rays of sun in a marmalade jar
Mean a miracle, if piled up carefully
A man says he met God in the subway
What most don't want to listen to
See, mirror is the one true friend
As it always smiles back
A horse's eye mutely reflects old days' glory
Unnoticed by those who just recklessly ride
Into sunset full of screaming colours
At dusk that for a change might not be followed by dawn
At First SightAt First SightAt First Sight in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Love at first sight
Gives you a right
To cross the street with eyes shut wide
For having fun
Just to hand in hand come undone
Chest light with glee
Give smiles for free
On your affection's spending spree
For each sweet crime
You find a rhyme
Your only judge remains the time
Things passed.Things passed.Things passed. in Philosophical More Like This
I used to live somewhere else. Back there we had true autumn. On a foggy fall morning, just ahead of me in the mist, I could see Christmas, that time divine for its softly decorated trees and beautifully wrapped presents, quite ungarish. For some years, all was well, but then we moved South and Fall and Christmas were gone.
It was still winter when we moved in early January, so at first I didn't notice, I just thought that spring had come three months early. Everything was so different from the old place that I was completely caught up in adjusting to it all, and enjoying the new things and ways, but when September had gone by, and then October, and everything was still warm and bright, I began to notice that things were different here.
"The rules are different here." That's what they liked to say, those people who had lived here for more than my few months of habitation. Then November passed. And December. And still the sun was bright. It was then I r
flameslost lovesflames in Free Verse More Like This
we call them flames because we burned
we were oxygen
we were fuel
and when the fuel was gone
we were ashes floating
rain took us down to earth
mushed remains together
and when the sun returned
the dry remains
piled into something that had never been
alone as something new
chancethe chance at lastchance in Free Verse More Like This
a rainy day on lake's grey water
there'll be no one sailing but us
left by the lazy and weak of spirit
for fireplaces and cozy chairs
and reading lights
only the truly alive and willing
lightly clad but afire with joy
could find this day of quiet beauty
disguised in cool and wet
a place of opportunity
Lancelot Price 2013 N0vember 15
anniversaryShadow slides back with sunriseanniversary in Free Verse More Like This
the text is revealed
That one day of the year
when sun penetrates the chamber and
lights wisdom from the side
to bring it to the seeming of relief
The god in bedrock smiles
The fools have returned
Ten thousand times
Lancelot Price 2013 November 26
of the seaof the seaof the sea in Free Verse More Like This
I came upon an old tired city
on a coast of ocean
on a beach of old white sand
Caught between the forces and the forms
it aged as humans do
built and rebuilt
in different shapes
Events followed one another
and at a change
the humans fled
As life flees a body
and the mind dies
so the old city stands empty
Now it waits
oneThey were goldenone in Free Verse More Like This
All those summers
Rolled into one
as I remember
Green and fresh
we innocently played
Everything was a game
and no one ever lost
green roseThe green rose glories in the forestgreen rose in Free Verse More Like This
hidden from all but the subtle eye
Winding about the trees
Guarding them with supple thorns
Its simple five blade flower
makes a pentacle of magic
a ferocious quiet protection
for the beings in the wood
I walk freely there
sparsestark hard beautysparse in Free Verse More Like This
few things move
few things grow
pipes skirl their wildness in the air
above mountains and water
in the moments of a life without fire
when I can feel clearly
I am born and borne aloft
and truly fly
Lancelot Price 2012 February 06
seekerI wander much through such old country,seeker in Free Verse More Like This
a ghost who's thinking of other ghosts,
missing them and their effects,
an exile from the present, and from past.
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
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...
Breakfast in Bedshe awoke earlyBreakfast in Bed in Free Verse More Like This
and sent him out
for bread and milk
and the morning glory
of larks just opening their eyes
on the evening star's retreat.
the bed would stay unmade
let the cat forage
for sunshine under the pillows
and curl up
on the windowsill
with its tail till noon.
we'll sip earl grey tea
and discover just how sweetly
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.
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.
Mad ManI think I lost usMad Man in Free Verse More Like This
in a glass of scotch -
going down like
every mad man
I ever envied.
Why did I believe
your lips tasted
sweet and heathen
like the heather
I laid you in
that last night
I came home?
I had a thing
for damaged women,
and you could drink
your mother's last words
EggsYou didn't eatEggs in Free Verse More Like This
all my sins
that last night
you were in the city.
You said the taste
what you remembered -
no herbs or rocket
or strong black
fell from my bones -
a roast of haunch,
delicate as almonds.
You thought it would be
the spoiled yellow
and just enough
to keep you
BlinkBlinkBlink in Free Verse More Like This
said the boy with the camera
and this moment
will never know our names.
It will take your best parts -
the smile you saved for Sundays
with your good dress
knees pressed tight
against the resurrection,
hoping mother never guessed
what prayers were left
upon the altar;
the kisses gathered for your lover -
passion's flagrant promises,
not the chaste monsters
school girls dream of
while sweaty palms
pin wilting corsages to tulle.
delivered to the front door
at Christmas and graduations,
circuses disguised in boxes
and envelopes stuffed like dates,
all wrapped in heady silk;
and the tears
you thought everyone knew -
since gloves were small,
secrets that swore to leave
at pillow fights and seances
but never let you breathe.
like flash in an iris,
and the grain of paper
yellowing gently in the attic
like your heart's montage.
LandscapesLovers are like landscapes -Landscapes in Free Verse More Like This
fields of wheat,
a crowning glory
cascading down a bare back
as if to beckon me closer
like tapered limbs
that bend gently
and hug the dark wet
the hushed breath
of jungle -
a canopy ripe
and bursting overhead;
and the beautiful surround
of rugged peaks
thrusting through the soil,
knowing which direction
to move in.
BattlesBattle of the SexesBattles in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Definitely in women's minds, men's promises are over-rated
Defiantly inside his head, he does not know she's aggravated
Assuredly her telling him not to call was not translated
Reluctantly he turns away for their love is terminated
Rich Man, Poor Man
warring, wenching, plotting
statesman, soldier, farmer, servant
starving, working, dying
Painting ThunderstormsI will remember you in flowers, dead and never given.Painting Thunderstorms in Free Verse More Like This
We are broken promises and shattered glass.
In your traitorous arms,
I wish I'd never closed my eyes,
You are like all good headaches
in that, you will fade away,
In painkillers and flowers on a grave.
ArcanaOur tower burned.Arcana in Free Verse More Like This
When it was coupled with the sun,
we exchanged broken hearts
and said our goodbyes.
Ten swords later
and my memories of you are
rain and snow and leaves,
I will tell the children not to be afraid
of the devil and death,
change is good.
The near future holds two cups.
I say I love you but we have a problem,
we never held the world
in either of our hands.
HeartMy heart exposed,Heart in Free Verse More Like This
I remove the arteries and veins,
tie them in a bow,
and pin the heart
to the notice board above my bed.
Her soul bled from her eyes
into the pool of tears
at her frozen feet.
She is so pretty, they say,
made of plastic, as she is.
Like a real girl,
she can breathe and love and die.
Dirt and TearsMy head rested on your heart beats,Dirt and Tears in Free Verse More Like This
the bed smells of you but not of me.
In my future,
I can taste only asprin
dirt and tears.
No Other WayYou were never here to see meNo Other Way in Free Verse More Like This
but petrified decay floating
on waters of a life not seen enough days.
A life within a life, I believe will soon end.
It is not good enough to want to love.
You are not a far cry from your mothers nest
and it is not good enough to want to be sorry.
In the life of the lovers doomed to fail,
I see no other way out but to hate
but in the life of lovers scared of pain,
I see no other way.
And Now We Are LostYou were a sanctuary, pain and the endAnd Now We Are Lost in Free Verse More Like This
all in one man
I am the tangles
in my own hair.
This is our
past present and future.
And now we are lost
Mercy's DaughterSave your tears for oceansMercy's Daughter in Free Verse More Like This
that bleed for castaways.
Know the knife was calling
for an end to his serenade,
and mercy's daughter's dying
for the sea and its empty bay.
Mercy's daughter's dying
in the prayers of the thrown away.
GardensYou dig the holeGardens in Free Verse More Like This
and I place the rose inside.
But gardens are not built
on just one flower.
I do not like concrete,
it feels cold and unatural,
but I understand your need
for a path to walk along.
I know you can see
the future of our rose,
But I am happy with today,
I can only see the seed
in your smile.
You need not say
I love you,
I will see it in your eyes.
Hearts Grow Wild in Fields of BloodDaisys were never meant to dieHearts Grow Wild in Fields of Blood in Free Verse More Like This
for a constant supply of answers.
he loves me
he loves me not
To say love is like war,
is to say somebody will always die.
you love him
you love him not
Gift her with roses
the colour of hearts and blood.
mine for never
Petals fell from their bound hands
and oh how they looked like dreams.
So I amI feel deadSo I am in Free Verse More Like This
and the tree outside my window,
says I am,
so I must be.
I like lillies to bloom in winter
and for the sun to live in the clouds,
so as not to burn my skin
or leave me in the cold.
This morning I forgot to breathe,
as I woke up, I choked.
It was not unpleasent,
I was just surprised.
You could not feel the moisture
on my face
as it began to rain because,
I feel dry
and the weatherman said it was,
so it must have been,
so I am.
newshours no longer whittle into daysnews in Free Verse More Like This
strangled and uncalendared;
forbidden rituals of a new dark Eros
clothesline sheets and bed throes → blunders in a blue face
and sensing your reversals, i’ve grown and grown impossibly old;
god’s bad math:
infinities as remainders.
however they lapse
i spend the better part of them
burning through the flyleaves
for mandalas sealed in hell bank
for ashes of your epilogue
for the end of throats
in songs and news.
no one can regret their past
but of futures . . .
like when planets will re-purpose you
into interstellar fruit bats or thyme pulled from the brink of comets
and you’re wondering why i'll never find you
when datebooks write us in the living.
(it is not a dream if it is everyday)i no longer have the gall(it is not a dream if it is everyday) in Free Verse More Like This
to write letters to my universe.
it’s stony quiet,
it’s possum eyes in headlights,
in Victrola dust.
some tireless pamphleteer
has wrecked this room
with motorized felicity!
there must be
one bill for every breath,
and now, i see
you are the same.
you’re no magic
planet. i will
some time tomorrow,
mid morning, when the bugs have died,
and drive to work
and i won’t think
that ever came
before that sun.
i’ll trade in shibboleths
and type in pointy letters
these sharp assessments
of fallacies and
that fringe our fates
like breached reactors,
off of old yucca
and they’ll pay me well
and you won’t hear me,
shallowit's not your beautiful faceshallow in Free Verse More Like This
that i love
it's how you ruin it
they will alwaysbounding,they will always in Free Verse More Like This
more like hurried floating, these Kublai Khans on little discs.
they ride on hurricanes, one each foot,
which seem to flare in wood grain floors
or else they’re pulled by tiny demons
‘till dinner’s ready.
there’s two chaotic ballerinas,
stage right, stage left, i’m trying to read
but here they blunder
at supersonic lightening speeds.
i can’t help but laugh for life
when they steal their silly heads
from silent rooms like fairy ninja
and then pounce and flounder on the couch,
upset my drink,
low Tlow T in Free Verse More Like This
i'm too soft and rotten
sacred blood oaths,
or thresholds; a frozen inch of face
the same as light years, oceans,
i'd rather brush my mind with pills
and stick these artifacts of wealth
hard inside your origins
and keep the grass
sadists are people, toothis sun has found its nihilistssadists are people, too in Free Verse More Like This
on cold curbs,
on concrete roads.
everyday, one of them guards the subdivision.
i thought, “a sphinx, a totem piece, an angel of death.”
whatever, my sleepy projectionist.
it’s on my way anywhere.
it’s on my way home.
silver-brown maw, it’s at its ugliest
shriveling inside of possum flesh
in a slow taut hug
of the last empty
i won't be caught up
just lay there
religionreligion in Free Verse More Like This
Autumn mornings can be like this: near to nothing.
they do not sing
or hold to land
but mangle in the chimes
as gaslights huddle for permanency
and so, failing.
where have we left our-
i feign allegiance to it: eyes and dreams
and life, as dyes turn glass to hollowware
and wax to fruit,
as brindle on these bones
makes me your passersby.
but somehow, i still believe in you
like fragments of a mythos
which have calcified to faith.
you’re lingering in setscrews that i cannot touch,
waiting in the code of loins and blood-belief.
and as sudden as October sun,
you will rebloom from every pore
and bleed from every divot in the day
and i am etched into this world, again.
i am only real because . . .
a resin fire irrupts into a flock of afternoons,
inures into the space between my seams -
i am a circulant to swim within this massive beast,
its servitor, a fetus in its folds, a race of beings expressly birthed
to raise you from the Summer’s dry and dead.
the shut-inthe shut-in in Free Verse More Like This
where are these keyholes to the Equinox? the stars huddle
like alien nettle,
a gray chime of wrens scaling tree limbs and middays,
Darwin has no lines for me
i've sheetrocked the blistering ivies and blossoms.
i've glassed out daubers and frightening mollusks
pillowing through mud honey and minute old ruins.
intimate with my quiet desk, my paper hoard
i'm still a coward; the envelopes, Obama glass, the dozen unused spiral
diaries are menacing concoctions, minotaurs of lost dimensions.
i used to sleep in creek-beds.
windstorms and labworkafflatus, inflatus, my morning globe,windstorms and labwork in Free Verse More Like This
as lithe as your impermanence.
and home! dread homes! are rabbit dugs,
spoonholed piles of mexican brick
where nothing ever touches down,
nothing here alive receives
the plains’ poor offering of gypsy light,
the ugly wind that meets the mudline.
1. a mottled fence
2. and how these storms hold faceless teeth
that slat their eyes through butter-wood
then purge their guts on wintered florets
4. some freshly headless nativities,
their polyethylene skirts upturned
from violent sacks
5. and knowing i’m a souless
i lick at what is manifest
beneath your hair
each poison tab
and religious studies
i know, i know you never mean
but do not say “live for yourself”.
i’ve come online to see the god
that came before me.
we are so poorly married
like bookend spines of Plath and Hughes
up on the shelf
The Satori of Easter WaspsHornets don't regret.The Satori of Easter Wasps in Free Verse More Like This
I can tell, the way they're trawling the egghunt like little Zen zygotes
looking for eves to cobble another nest of wombs
from the damp distillery.
They haven't cared for a million lives.
All finalities, both my thrifty dreams
and those lofty tea clouds, when black and white would never do,
when I had time to colour in their shells with crazy pinwheels
and hide them in ivy, they all parade through Grandma Becky's
From bamboo rakes turning out the sky
to the little spring torii that opens back to Earth,
children run and rummage through a giant toybox in the shade.
This is it, all of it: the slender brown bird that's not quite a sparrow,
silent in the stone bath like she's listening for the militants,
footfalls of ants bearing arms (or was it fruit)
as they file across the backdoor threshold.
I hide their tiny Eden in the dust
with the doormat.
One FateShe steps softly in the spring time,One Fate in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
trying to avoid landmines till fall.
She tells me she's afraid of dying,
but I know clocks scare her more.
That tick tock sound feels like a countdown,
to major cardiovascular event.
She calls herself a time bomb.
Her tears fall to my skin.
When all I can do is try and comfort,
maybe push her to walk
another mile or two.
I remind her to take the medicine,
determined to see it through.
Never have I put much faith in god
and even less in Man.
I have no faith in her willingness to fight.
I know the answers don’t lie within.
So I turn to her with much optimism,
reminding her, this is not the end.
For we will know only one fate in this life
and this is simply not it.
Boulevard of Lost HopeNothing in these pocketsBoulevard of Lost Hope in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But a five dollar bill
And a pint of whiskey
In a crumpled up
Wife beater on
Carpenter style Dickies
And a ball cap
Sitting on a road side bench
Watching cars on the fast track
Doing eighty five
The boulevard of lost hope
Paved in broken glass
And ill repute
I grew up
Not far from here
I came to celebrate life changers
And wake up calls
Sold my dreams
Even in the worst of places
The world seems brighter
The Impatience of MotionI'm named after my father, the middle part anyway. I carry his name in a scrapbook, where the past continues to breathe. He tried to give me the world once; told me he never did it any good, but you never give to a dreamer, they end up drowning in the rain. So I let it fall just as he knew I would, same as all who came before me. Now he's a child who has grown old and I suffer the same fate.The Impatience of Motion in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It's funny how the clock winds faster, as the years increase. Some may see it differently, but I feel it with each passing day. It's the fatigue brought on by the impatience of motion, the ever-growing disinterest in the echoes of the world. It's the creaking sound as the machine begins to slow. It's the lines that crack the skin.
I know I'm growing older now; I saw angels flying over Montgomery the other day. I didn't fear for my own passing, but then it wasn't my ride to catch. I think one may have smiled down on me though, despite all of my sins. For this I can only hope, when my time comes to a
Wish It Would Stop RainingIf you could erase meWish It Would Stop Raining in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I think I'd hand you the pencil.
That forty mile hike
from Montgomery county jail
really put things
and nearly killed me,
along the way.
It seems these days
all I do is fight:
this morning it was the car,
tomorrow the mortgage company,
and the next day
it will be
Like the saying goes,
when it rains it pours.
Well it's been pouring
since I came screaming
out of my mother's womb.
She hated me too,
so why should you be any different.
I just wish
it would stop raining.
Existing for the MomentMaybe we're love struckExisting for the Moment in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
or just freaks with chemistry.
Maybe we'll exist beyond tomorrow.
I don't concern myself
with such things.
I exist purely for the moment
as it beckons me to see:
locked doors and fantasies,
searching for extremes.
Discovering limits to push beyond,
fulfilling the wildest of dreams.
With no laws from governed society,
no barbed wire to get in the way,
no keep out signs or rules to abide by,
just instinct and a will to play.
So follow me over the edge,
let us thrash and wreck the way.
All I ask in return:
a pleasant distraction to ease the pain;
something to cloud my thoughts and mind.
Let me escape the day to day.
Harvest HomesShe says, you can tell AmericaHarvest Homes in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
from the rest of the world
by the color of the wallpaper,
or lack thereof.
That southern hospitality is refreshing
after so many years in London.
The stuffed animal in her grasp
is named ‘Dog’.
When asked why, she says
"are you blind, it is a dog after all."
When the aide handed her a night gown
she asked if it was for sale.
He told her it was a gift,
but she could not accept it.
However, if he wanted to lend it to her
that would be “lovely”.
The aide was actually a woman.
When we told her so she replied,
“Well, she was a man
when he gave it to me.”
We laughed and she said, “Oh lovely then”
and laughed with us
while clapping her hands.
I can’t tell you how old she was;
any age beyond 80 would do.
I can’t tell you how crazy she was.
I imagine more than a little.
Needless to say,
I liked her immediately.
Ashes and TurpentineIn the ditch, ankle deep in mud,Ashes and Turpentine in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
with a piece of rebar pressed against his throat.
The man behind him
spouts off, “You don't know me, boy."
as he pulls the rebar tighter.
takes shots from the front;
throwing a right, then another.
Ribs crack and break under pressure,
but the Vicodin masks the pain.
So many transgressions, though none
unleash broken humanity more so,
than the words spoken,
like ashes and turpentine in his ears.
They try to own him with comments like these,
as if he were trying to take from them.
Misfortune turns swiftly,
for there is no slumbering devil
within his walls, not anymore;
lain dormant for so many years,
he now steps forth to play the artist.
A broken piece of rebar, steel toe boots,
and the will to do harm;
he paints his master piece with unbridled rage
using cruel merciless technique.
And, life flight
carried them away.
Save it for your PriestForget the fallSave it for your Priest in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
It's the landing that hurts
I should've started fresh at thirty
Put aside childhood love
And just lived a little
I guess I'm stubborn that way
Only now it seems
I can't run fast enough or far enough away
Distance is key
But some people don't want to be left
If she loved me
She'd let me go
How's that for a cliché'
Instead I have to push and pull
Tear myself away
I know what you're going to say
Save it for your priest
But I don't talk to God
And I don't read the horoscope either
I never trusted mine anyway
I write instead
And not unlike yourselves
I've learned a lot along the way
Lessons old and new don't feel the same
Because after you've been burned once
It just doesn't hurt as much after that
Setting your own fires becomes easier too
Trust me on that one
I bleed over collateral damage
And let fate sort out the rest
Still-LifePerhaps now, I can finally write of romance; a tale with a story book encounter and all the stereo typical heart felt babble that goes alone with it. Probably not unlike many you’ve read, but I suppose it’s all relevant to somebody.Still-Life in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I suppose it starts with a name; not as cliché as one might think, but appropriate. Willow understood the words, their meaning. She was all too familiar with the stone-throws of life and their impact. Bright eyed and insightful, she was a true student of human nature and she learned it well. Perhaps too well for someone her age, but then again, eighteen was enough for me, so twenty-seven was probably enough for anyone.
She had a real eye for magic, a taste for still-life; capturing rare moments of raw uninhibited beauty with the snap of her finger. Now, I would never fancy myself as worthy of such an eye. The world can be an ugly place and sometimes we grow ugly right alone with it. So you could imagine my surprise when she took my pictur
ToxicCheap piece of gold;Toxic in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I haven't taken it off since you put it there.
It's amazing how much weight it carries;
warped and bent after years of forming to this finger.
You'd think my heart would be broken,
but you managed that years ago.
Any lingering stubborn love
just grew toxic and thinned out.
This cup is full, no more room for error.
Now we just crash
burning the roads in front;
so many casualties I can't even keep count,
but the kids break my heart.
Through glossy eyes and slurred speech,
you don't even consider them anymore.
As bad as we had it, as hard of an upbringing
one would think we might have spared them,
but nobody is spared.
The world around us is our warzone
and we set fires and watch them burn.
When the flames go out
we start new ones.
This is what we've become
no sense in waiting
for that which will never be again.