Sour SoulI'm out of order in Love!Nothing's fine except all timeAnd nothing's mineAnd nothing's mineBy giving in, I'm giving up all my white-lies, sayings, and signsIf I ever write the line that can pull the past from my sideThe line from me to you that I will to findWill I scratch it out and off my mind, or ink it in my very rind?I can do it alone, wind-bound and homeward-blownWhat is shown but Him who shone?That this awkward heart's sown like seed and no longer lips closed?I'm stoned to death-proneI've rode the river and rowed the roadI'm honing in on truths toldHeld the Truth, yet soured soulsAnd I'm not a lot to behold, I forfeit and scoldI've been disloyal to my blood boldly boiledAnd now to Love, I must first toilAnd now for Life I die to soil
Garden of Distrust Narrowed down, the morning seemed short, and narrow, nearly crushing inwards as it aged into a cold-turkey night. Every night of his sobriety seemed mechanic, operating unwillingly, poking at a blind and dwindling patience. The other, in the meantime, gathered crops of gold and squinted into the infernal sun. She dipped her painted toe into the rich moist of the garden pool, the pleasure tormenting her. She knew well both feelings of ecstatic gratitude and agonizing insatiability, and both were fine to her, for as they came they'd also leave. When all was unsaid and undone, she stripped off her clothes and waded into the silvery pool of her untarnished vision. With all her needs becoming met, tongue abandoned yet speechless, her secrets vivid behind the glassy bubble surrounding her, she spontaneously submerged. With mind, body, spirit, heart, and soul all concentrated upon her center, she came out f
My RegardsSeldom do kisses of spoiled love haunt meMight bite through my tongue, their laughter upon meAnd I remember dead mirages of teeming seas beyond meAnd still feel the black of concrete cracks, resenting earthquakes fondlyI've lost touch for the sake of sightTo those who refuse to see"Goodnight"
On Hot AirWeather in a set of bonesImpelled my heart as home to run from meYet the coward stepped intricately, placing and plotting each movementShades rush in with a hasty paceTowards the brush that paints upon my eyes(I sigh and sign, "give me more life")And with the next breezeI'm dust on infinityLet driftLoved to bitsRemembering sun and wind that had my backAnd blown out candles intimately litNowHow to shake me awakeAwake and I'd taste yesterday's bodyAwake and I'd steal tomorrow's kiss
Left HandI rake with my left hand the leaves fallen from my pastAnd with my right, I wreck all I've collapsedInto a sensible mess I collect myselfWith my past on my hip as a parasitic twinI've aimed and missed, re-aimed and missed at a barrel of gunpowderDid I really miss the mark with these arrows lit with love?Did I really lose somethingAll these hours minced, in blood?I'm a rioting mass and a sub-culture degenerated to the idolatry of the dirt burying me
With All of My So-So HeartHe set the phone booth aflame, and I'm calling in to get out.He but does as he does, and yet I'm all mute in untiring sighing.And so I'll wait for aspiration, waste perspiration, holding down "delete."But, oh, it's for someone's sake, right?Oh, how very selfless of myself, a self I'd esteem bitter, frostbitten and loveless.But I'd lie to say I have no love, for I have died to save your face.Or was it that I've died to say you have no love, for I would lie to save my face?Either way, sunshine still only comes in pill form.But, what isn't deception?Why aren't we groaning through padded walls, all?When does this formality betray us, dins carrying out our best wishes?When do we fragment and consider revising?And when will this bled-white line fester as my heart does?I'd call, but only too late, when earth has crusted over, and the easiest way is the one we trip over.