Monthly Archives: November 2015


MY heart hurts when you lifted the sheet of the universe
revealed discarded hearts and thoughts and things
— sitting at my desk i wrote equations of my feelings
and it’s
been days since you texted me “hello”
she’s already two weeks late! Since
she felt anything upon a synthetic
smart phone-heart; i never had the
opportunity of her pleasure green-eye’d
gnomes and iridescence romantic farriers
who feel it was so much more creative
OH, the gallons of flowing juices of
hurt melted feelings flowing across
the dirty streets of New York City
even though we watched the silver
snail moving across a gutter to the
silver bulb of aurora Borealis freezer
and her feisty fought the scalpel
like my heart for her love: hahaha
two souls wishing more an opportunity
to live a life…i’m right, i’m dead
i’m so nowhere and my heart hurts when
you lifted the sheet of the universe
revealing the discarded hearts and
thoughts and things of reality

:: 11112015 ::


circus ride  — throwing up
moon hangs my heart
so low I’m lost, I’m good
beauty looks fine like tender
fingers across falling tears
I know just a dove like white
lies flying in blue skies
and soul you bad for me
makes the world turn upside down
I’m lost I’m good beauty
seems so perfect until you
live within my skin
we walk a path in life
step steeping stones my foot
broke upon your words
so empty i fell into your
void so now looking for a ledge
to climb out of;
circus ride throwing up
sun high, clouds low
mist obscure my tears

fawn upon a barb wired fence

:: 11112015 ::


HEAVY(Heart floating)by
smokey narratives
the bar extended into
darkness like my own heart
where all the dead come
and some unknown faces
many known and famous
and my heart(perfectly
hugs my soul)nowhere sat here
the emotions like cigar
smoke lifting slowly
here, who there who(descended
ignorantly feeling and
two-bit minds) singing
by drunken-induced pain
and the song plays on
and i let them go
like truthful liars
and fake friends so
fair and the lips of
their dying faces
when i release their
truthful lies…
within my aching heart
i am just a shadow
with a heart.

:: 11072015 ::



Numeric Woman



i caught myself
dreaming myself
in streaming lines
of such brilliantly
dis joint ed
f a i r y tales
a seam i tripped
upon and pulled it back
and saw m y self
l i f e


GIVE me peace give me
it again forgive me
(beautiful) who I hate again
love me kiss my mouth
feel my anguish again
hate me hate me again
tell me i’m the only one
And i don’t want to be with you
never loved your truth
so kill me and relieve me
oh if you’re my friend
rape me again and give me
the freedom of life again
Taste me and see i’m an angel
Oh god give me a single word
oh god give me a sharp sword
to cut the throat of this one
who rapes me again and again

:: 11062015 ::


i denied into the green
silence like magnet tar
a willingly heart
pit out into the morning
mourning with a warm warning
(kiss me) dyingly warm worlds
to be locked into silence
a drawn magnet tarpit trap
so i ate your cancer-soul
and drowned into your memory
wait! hey! i came here a man
from madame death babies
–breath twirling names
spinning her own fingers
and i gave the green silence
nothing//if it should never
sing. How much should i eat
your cancer if it’s not enough
for us darling. And if i sing
it’s you and my own voice —
hey? Wait. I denied into the
green silence like a magnet tar
pit trap of love….of love…
never mind/blue butterflies.

:: 11062015 ::


Fell upon a ‘should i be’
what else to say?
if you kissed me
would i be all of me
just apologies
in the day i shed
my coy personae with you
so showed me your faults
i see and can i shame or
stand up to the sun?
Will we marry? Marry?
Marry? oh lover! we should
rest and eat the sun
be easily amused in nasty
salt and i take all the blame
i preceed from shame like a
choking child looking at the
sun and i sing, “Mary! Mary!
Mary! Oh Mary yeah yeah yeah.”
She gave her son to the world
she gave her love to the world
she gave her love to all of us.”

:: 11062015 ::


WELL i am a poet so i got to get drunk
and i invited so many dead poets
i gotta get drunk but no one
alive should ever understand
I see Dickinson and she’s
so out of her element and see
Frost and Cummings
with wolves eyes (spending their
paycheck) and Plath’s working
the kitchen thinking how she
could make the bar-food better
if she made it all blues and i’m
hollering with a passion to never
let her down, Well now, I appreciate
how many famous dead poets gathered
around and i’m just a drunk poet
dancing and hand those reams of prose
and pass them down with a smile
by me and so i know what i’m going
do. So just going to drink another
shot o’whiskey and singing
to the old poets saying, “i’m just
a two-bit drunk but going to make
poetry just fine and brother,
if my words don’t fit I’ve got a tool
to make life true — living a hard
life to adjust my life’ and so
i gotta get drunk to make it true!

:: 11062015 ::