Daily Archives: November 7, 2015

THE PRAYER OF A SLAVE

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 ::


THE GREEN SILENCE

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 ::


OH MARY

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 ::


A DRUNK POET

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 ::


ALPHABETIC DIGITS

LOVE –> ate me.!
Sell the kids for food
when change is mood
chain the dark inside
my pretty pink box
and how you love to say
‘we don’t know what it means’
Say, you say words by alpha
-betic digits, so again
reap the dark : rape the
dark and how you love to
sing what it means. . .
hear the world and so nice
so nice to chew not knowing
what it means. We can have
smiles we can bury whores
we can vote Jesus we can
demote the bloom of this
acrid world if you know what
if you know what it means
ahh! It we walk with feet
of the ancients we know what
it means and say, it’s to nice
to know to it means — no one
knows but a few so : we can
have a bit more if you drink
ifi you tear the bruise away
and life is so much more
if love ate me i sell the kids
for food when change is a mood
oh! My pretty pink box.

:: 11062015 ::


AND I THINK IT WOULD BE NICE

A wonderful simulation of love
— the hot-blooded woman
who c raves love and bitterness;
does/do-dove flutter wings?
(more and more like voices dying)
and i am so each reason for
love always.
Must be a strange excitable
ritual that shelters fear.
But you, you are simply my
own blindness. Yes, it does,
it remains and keeps me
out of your momentarily ‘IF’
I were invited to attend.
I am so happy to be strangely
excited to be here in your realm
of a Kingdom that hands a heart
(love speaks my life) love
but you are so alone I
should invite you (i deeply
appreciate filling in the gaps)
in uncharted territories and
and i think it would be nice
to go away. . . into the night.

:: 11062015 ::