Category Archives: #memories

Lust Our Kicks

It’s a sun-drenched thought
riding in a dream like me
in the backseat of a
Buick rumble seat

We love our kicks
it’s our treat
being crazy ain’t enough
unless your tough
we love our kicks

There’s a question
on the plastic streets
one that drives me hazy
am I or the others crazy?

We gobblefunk in the trunk
licking the razor’s edge
all in the backseat of my
Buick rumble seat

And we lust for our kicks
a psychedelic moment
in a psychiatric ward
where the monkeys smoke
it ain’t no joke

We lust for our kicks

:: 02-12-2018 ::


NEUROSURGICAL EVENT

manipulate my brain damage my connection

i’m your lonely patient like burning liars in

a blanket of ash

so perturbed by my mind you remove

parts of my heart-brain and the voices stop

and i’m so comforted by my loss, of mind;

and i’m so relieved

by the loss of my life;

it creates a circular lesion within my brain

:: — 08-05-2016 — Rev: 11-01-2016 ::


WHAT (i) HAVE i BECOME

i saw me coming out of living life
where i am the tallest small no thing
and if what i have become IS thinking
changing and changing living, my lies
tear a hole inside what i could never
kill but i’ve tried and the clock tics -me
off- in all its talking about precious time
within a flickering stream and how i
choose to remember everything
||i remember every thing that begins with “a”
and through “z” and many other
symbols of expressive thought
my sweetest memory of fire:
till angry said it was pleased
and i turn around in the end
and see it all; flash bulb
of all that happened and
being alone in this stain of time
i return to being a sheep
in hay and every POUNDING MOMENT
of relentless time says ‘i must
move further from this and must
go.’

:: 08-01-2015 ::


O THAT TENDER LITTLE TIME!

O that tender
little time!
to wish it more
as long as
the greatest
shore!
That was
cleansed by love
and removed all
gloom and pain
and remaining,
the tears
of all mothers
and fathers
weeping holding
the seashell
voices of baby
songs
O what little time
no more than
thimble that we
make miracle!
and for me!  I
keep my seashell
upon the shore
of that greatest
ocean called forever!

:: 02-21-2015 ::


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 ::


THE SURFACE OF WATERY SKIES

UPON the surface of watery skies
below the waves of forgotten memory
you forgot the smile and her sun
and I drowned in daily life

And for just today you remember
a silent gaze for the moment
you saw my smile in your heart
upon the surface of watery skies

You swore a law you never abide
so you broke the half of sun
in my arms you fell inside
and the skies forever cry

If you ever stay in a place
i watch your feet as they run
always away into watery skies
i forgot the sun in his jealous way

And i swim up above reaching sky
while i see my heart drowning
below the waves of forgotten memory
and you forgot the smile and her sun

while i drown in daily life //

:: 11-10-2014 ::