Tuesday, October 28, 2008
haiku for you
stay at home alone
the cat wants in my dresser
the city scared me tonight
laughs and beer bottles
rome fell, buried by her games
we live by the girl
incorrect!
the sword is master
the days go by like
afternoon
will the sun come out?
k thanks!
drop the beat like lime in tequila
if anguish were cute enough
with the right proportions
oceans of fools would
love her still.
writhing bodies on
the stairs to Olympus,
decaying as the ascent
stretches and air grows thin.
some gathering a maze of entrails
scooping gears into empty breasts.
gasping aquatically for rations
of figurehead lust,
but left with homely gland extractions
“fuck! smash! chug!”
the great primate croons.
tossing charred carrion
to apes that demand free rides.
anguish had yet to purse her lips,
pity’s menopausal,
but father time and his 12 gauge
permanently posted on the front porch
so the song of the damned
still haunts the sunsets
“let us cradle a creature with a pulse.”
________________________________________
if i could bake, i'd bake
you muffins and a cake
if you'd take me, i'd wake you
so you wont be late
oh, lets overlook fate:
the home that closed it's gate
__________________________
i've been bleeding from
the strangest of places
i've been feeding some
of the strangest faces
jowls gaping
like lost eaglets
here are the doses
now eat it
eat it
like the ghost of every
moth you've swatted
swarming lifeless
through the darkness
light less
eyes depressed in their sockets
change, regress
lusting to touch
wipe the molting,
melancholy dust
it will settle
put the soma
in
to
us
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Sunday, December 16, 2007
chaitea XD
the cables and wires
are steadfast in my
skin and bones
the tugging won't
tear them free
they feed me 1's and 0's
and whisper in my ear holes
till it all seems make believe
you didn't introduce me to your man
when our legs were touching
but my lips are sealed
so i'll wait for the lonely night
when the snowball hits my window
and you will be my pillow
to celebrate we brought all the cushions in my room
into the walk in closet. and smoked a giant nugget blunt
jon said he was almost as high as the time
he thought the road was just a hologram projection from the headlights
gabe said he must have been really, really high
i said it must have been pretty dark while you were driving
he said he must have been reading poetry
Monday, October 29, 2007
Complimentary
The beauty of melancholy can never be seen by anyone but the host of the melancholy. Melancholy is such that it is held inside us, only to sparkle in the true beauty of its essence in pure isolation. No one will ever see or feel the moments I spend while pasta is boiling, smoking cigarettes, drinking red wine, reading the greats and listening to the classics. This perfection in beauty can only crystallize in the utmost isolation, the most perfect moments of loneliness. When I feel most beautiful is when I feel most alone. Sorting photographs and counting the colored leaves, I feel as though the world was designed as a habitat for my longing, for my unwillingness to comply.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
twilight of the years
Is still missing at sea
Her father never blamed me
As I begged on my knees
She had a swagger to her
Like linens hung out to dry
She moved with the wind gusts
And winced when the wolves howled
We'd play out by the gallows
And she'd mock all the traitors
Right before they were to die
I heard her curse the almighty once
With her hair all up
And her skirt beginning to un-hem
Her boots had no scuffs
But you wouldn't believe me
If you saw the way
She used to kick the rocks
_virgil cross