Category Archives: #emotions

WELCOME MY GHOSTS

THAT I have tried and succeeded is only in great measure

That you have been there with all my fears and displeasure.

Holding my cramped heart and swollen hands is how you have

Saved both my mind and spirit – the soul; still intact down

By the emptying rivers that lead to unexpected consequences.

And to weep while watching the death of a perfect day and to

Realize that birth was only half that day ago is sobering:

We watch each other’s eyes while laying on our sides and

Breathing in cadence I tell you that I am a fortunate peasant

And you the Queen who has welcomed by Ghosts.

:: 07-12-2017 ::


A SWEET WORD

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UNLEASHED I DID THE WORLD’S ARMY

step…stomp..step..step.stop-step
step stom step-step-stomp step
Halt! EYE’S RIGHT! A N Undeclared
sense of urgency We feeling if
this love: waltz away
my sense of u r g e n c y
We cry for something difficult
to bring us(and love if this
oh dear this is the world’s end).
I cry! to swear i held your hand until
all (oh, the end). i saw you wash away//
we begged oh yes and if this is the
end it is the END
i saw you wash away; and your eyes had
an image of me while i cried; broken history
“if” like a step-child unwanted so i sawy
i say if it’s the end i wash away me
wash away me: i describe miracles
so something so difficult in eyes
it’s the end it’s the end lovely heart
i swear one day a new beginning!
and much fresh suffering
:: 08-29-2015 ::


I DENY YOUR ABUSE OF MY SKIN

SOLID Smiles stepped
pressing my EMERGENCY
strIppIng All Your
/// a criippled devastation
(-!: p,ease oh plesae see i
am ‘walked away.’ Feeding me
to say ‘please allow the end!!!
walk away ok i caught ‘L.’
i weep oh feeling a word in flesh
it’s time i saw my miracle
so biblical. —>so lost
away!! Hair o’ history when
your fist bruised me and this
the end:I is no longer a word of me
Devastated by my love
of me

:: 08-29-2015 ::


MY PETS

THEY all become my pets
it’s getting worse
when i realized my
pain was hanging by
a thread behind
the walls across the yard
the finest day i ever had
inside a deep pit
where drops of tears
hang in the air
that hummingbirds lick
and the sun burns away
somewhat like my life
and there’s something
in the wind i cannot see
but feel like the hope
beneath my skin that crawls:
it asks: do you love yourself?
and i have no words to explain
so i won’t complain
they’re all my pets

:: 07-25-2015 ::


THE CYCLE OF LIFE’S COLORS

ablaze   beached-brash     dusty flamboyant
fluorescent gaily heart in life  by harmonious expectation…
of rejection?!
so harshly my lover;  iridescently
in  your ways
and at times when the blue jay
hesitates in song — monotone
and muted in love; is when the feeling of
joy turns pastel begging
restrain as the last moments
i have remembered in sepia
as photographs so old they are
red-brown colored;
to have known love so translucent
and vivid — a shade violent!
just too painful to recall
and now all white a washed in
what-WAS and isNOW

:: 07-21-2015 ::


THE WAVES ARE MISTY CLAPPING

The waves are misty clapping
seas, lovvv–i—,ng some——
thing inside a roar |beating heart/
| Gogh once painted it
but decided on fields with
flowers and twirl-swirling
stars
enough to make me cry

:: 07-19-2015 ::


CELLULOID DREAMS

and all the pain
lives within
a celluloid strip [YOU]
of moving pictures
across the space
of a point in time
it’s the tremolo
score of life
like shoes that fit
within your soul
it’s all of you
so you ride the back
of a bumble bee
it tickles your thighs
but the buzzing soothes
the soul within you
and painted lips
collect gossamer threads
you hold your breath
dreaming of a love
that died within you
it’s all the same
life-life, merry-go-round

:: 02-15-2015 ::


THE ROYAL VISITOR

Today a royal visitor
made it’s way into
my home;
upon its entrance
I knew its Soul.
And now the marriage
of feeling — it holds
the tender hands of
its Bride, Emotion.

:: 01-20-2015 ::


METRO COUNTRY LANE IS HER NAME

It’s been some hurting time: I lost it in a dial of fountain garbage youth — catfish mouth hooks and I never saw you sorry inside
Boreas is colored freezer pain! I haven’t had a hand job or pie Since the government gave me opportunity or more chances than churches where Jesus hangs on solemn walls while
flesh bags cry and pray for all their sins in a covered wagon somewhere in the 1950s black and white television. Gee I never knew ancient ones wore makeup and butterfly Lips like a hungry flower in a whore field. The sky gave me her scars like purple vaginas missing periods for months.
And Billy went to the store to pick up a jar of fat pickles. She never reached behind the curtain but I had my dummy and a fist beneath his cheap shirt making all the moves of a failed life.

11-03-2014 ::