Monday, May 7, 2012

Spøkelse

The only ghosts I’ve met
expressed hesitant sentiment
that I talk too much.
Having come around solely
to hush my mortal sounds.
Like bragging, they say.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Shadow Envy

Lover lays close, well
too close to my
raged depraved hungry
hollow eyes.
Reluctant honesty writhes
closer by the hour and
my past is a good excuse.
I promised things differently.
Lover lay closer, let
dollar signs fill your
sensitive sighs with
welcomed lies.
Use the past as an excuse.
I won’t say a word.

Or Me

Who will destroy us all?
I’ve got a bad feeling about the
quality of sleep her eyelids boast.
Lucid turned vivid, to hell with this.
She’s the worst in me; dreams and all.

Monday, April 23, 2012

One Year

Kissing halts, hips left unwrapped:
carnal displays. (Illegal tender.)
Another round of oh shit recognitions.
And it’s my mistake.
It’s not that I don’t fancy you.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Black Box

Providing a more manageable mediocre,
keeping daily grind
in mind and side-effects aside.
Proxified.
Thoughts tossed, marked unjust, and
replaced by ever increasing milligrams.
Kick back my comrade.
Our heads are balloons until,
like everything else,
they flatten too.
Tongue reaching out for once thought
solutions, only finding reuptake inhibitions
and adverse interactions.
Ex-helping hand found cause,
driving us mad.

Fence

Greener, I hope its greener there.
I hope its somewhere you’ve wanted to be
for far too long to hold out any longer.
You won’t do your own talking.
Cast aside any future plans because
you had to leave tonight, no goodbyes in mind.
So leave in peace you selfish piece.
I’ll always love you but won’t know why.
Still, with any luck its greener there.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Rich Girl

Temper at bay,
only arm’s reach.
Don’t say something you don’t mean.
Honestly?
Lucky her I’m lazy these days.
Don’t find it worth the effort
to leave her in shambles.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Siste

What’s the worst that could happen?
Everything that did.
I echo my shadow’s disappearing act
and don’t let you in on the joke.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Pitch

Ears ring at the thought.
Starting over, losing sounds.
Lips hide words.
Here I am. Listening.
Trying.
Ears ring.
It seems I’ve lost
every pitch we ever shared.

dcfc

Gliding past still vessels,
fallen wayside.
Eyes: dried, eager.
Prying meaning from
language, awkwardly expressed,
by your limbs.
Talking to myself, I suppose.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Keys

Looking for love like
plucking aces blindly.
But maybe she’s got it.
I’d politely offer my services,
but I’m too civil and her
batting eyelashes are
sending me Morse code.
This hypothetical view
is more of singing the blues
under my breath, and I
think she hears.
At this point though
dots and dashes blur to
prefixed protocol
demanding that I not proceed.
It’s all in the code.

Rhetorical (II)

Now applying hindsight, the
     tension
          building


(being a constant)
left a burn.
Some like it hot.
Apply liberally to me.

Rhetorical (I)

Artistic by nature.
My lines look more like
broken pick-ups tied, equally transparent as
any attempts to play it cool.
You can see my eyes, even clutch contact.
But we don’t ask, mustn’t ask.
Hold any inventive expression
on the tips of my fingers, ready
to pose every roadblock I
can fathom, because I want to make
this hard. But I won’t ask. I can’t.

Carry On

My little piano, I’m wide-eyed;
jaw still on the floor.
I refuse to count lessons learned because
lille venn, every song ends.
But I’ll carry your tune with me.

Daylong

I’ll admit I was selfish.
Wanting to keep every second,
every everything
I could grapple head/hands/heart around.
At the time it wasn’t much:
daylong silence and
overdone thoughts.
And just like everyone else
I blamed myself at
every available corner and
cried my pre-dried eyes to drought.


And I’ll admit I wasn’t there to
say my goodbyes, fully or tangibly.
But I swear to a god I’m not sure
I want that I tried. I swear by
more than I own and more than
I’m told. Dirty bird, you know that I swear.
And although these days I maintain
dry eyes, I finally found you.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Every Book

Sessions in my mouth
slowly turned to ashen words:
stained my tongue.
I’ll speak as though I’m not
spewing soot into every
vacant cavity I come across.
And then there was you.
Gaping, you stood.
Taking the brunt of my senseless
stream of discontinuous drivel.
For reasons I’ll never know,
keeping mouth open wide. Almost
saw down to where a spine
should reside, but I stopped short
of intrusive. Maybe my
infected dialect found pity halfway;
maybe a plural pronoun
best suited for sporadic use.
Meanings mostly loitered.
We vanquished. Vanished.
I’m waking up alone.

Monday, March 26, 2012

Pomp

Drawing blanks to conserve ink.
I salvage each page
until mind’s circles are more like
vinyl.
Think not of my disproportioned
dissertation, instead
think of the sea…
Spinning out of control.
We’re all underwater, and
you’re just noticing now.
Sea foam shades on lilac escapades.
I see you calculating;
there may be more at stake
than initially esteemed.

Sparkle (Pt. II)

Thaw aside, I seem to have
room for only one
dislocated jaw in mind
and this time, it isn’t mine.
Is that even allowed?
The past is leading me on
,and oh,
Honey Bee,
I’ll devour your intentions.
Forever sweet little methinks.

Ravenous Race

My sight was first with
vision coming in a close
second glance at a possible
third chance to steal you back.
Lust was in last at this point,
just shooting from the hip.
But hot damn,
what a shot he’s got.

Thinking too Hard

First thought was to
let the wind guide leaves
back to respective trees;
second was to swing solely
to miss by a long shot;
third hollowed my mind
leaving thoughts empty and
deprived, and
now we both know to
hold tight to the moon
because, doggone Maker,
we’ll be meeting you soon.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Too Refined

Oh, Mother Superior
you know what I like;
better, what I shouldn’t.
Deep in my bones I know I’m alive.
I swear, my ears are here: listening.
That’s a nod and a half, maybe more.
Even polite enough to call a cab.

You might be surprised,

someday I’ll have a soul to call my own.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Known Glitches

Shock value.
must have been written
on contingent context.
Stomach in knots
and nots in mind.
Yet here we are.
And while every thought
is like my back against a new wall,
I craft new caves, fashion new caverns
for her eyes only.
Maybe I missed something?

Monday, March 19, 2012

Smoldering

half whisper/half kiss
Her eyes,
like white sheets
are lies.
raspy future tense.

Daytime Brother

As I sank through the floor
control pooled between my ears;
how daft of me.
Asserted someday
I should use that vacancy.
Every word like a bite from a silver apple:
Divine. And they glisten.
Still sinking, now I’m the third person.
And yeah, alright, so we’re alive.
Looked at me as to say “and now what…
Better excuses mostly,
hopefully.

Bad Seed

I’m running my mouth.
Is it wrong it amuses me?
I’m feeding every ego I can find,
except mine: that bleak thing.
Waste away! I declare.
I’m a bad book, no surprise.

Harsh Reality

Wishful thinking: no thoughts.
Logic-less and tongue-tied
maybe I should learn to whistle.
But I like thinking of ghosts.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Ardor

Wisdom, you filthy mistress;
almost infectious with your
famine affection.
Serving perfectly tempting
rancorous radiation in
voltaic portions.
Oh, I must confess:
I can taste the trickery
going down with every bite,
yet for seconds I beg.

Silver-Footed

Hot-bedded Thebes, something impious.
Sly Nereid,
how fitting you called me your Odysseus;
finally showing your Roman loyalties.
Dirus Ulixes,
you slanderer.

Spirit Animal

Am I learning lessons?
Occasionally deliberated martyr state of mind
dispels Phantom Heart Beat to the harbor.
Channeling confused retroactive atonement,
can’t help but laugh and blink one eye.
Dottie (x3)


How unfortunate for me.
(oh I love our little interludes Dottie)


Begging for some vulpine guidance,
it would seem my spirit animal was you.
And if your heart was in the right place
how could you vaporize my existence?
I suspect a famine fueled foe.

Cheapened

Waited by the sea.
Lately give it time and
you’ll be fine run through
my mind.
But please,
come with me.

Serrated Notation

My pen’s run amuck, swopping
ink with just any old thesis.
How long has this been going on?
I’ll admit the only trepidation
is not knowing if my every
word was rogue ballpoint profligacy or
verity I can claim.
Ink collateral is lost skin deep.
Nefarious scribbles preserve my insecurities.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Two Hundred

There we go. Oh, here she goes:
the plunge. emit radiation humbly
a perfectly executed system.


lets not focus onward

Friday, March 9, 2012

Pheromones

Outwardly affectionate:
future fiendish fallacies
calibrate accordingly.
She still knows, even shows,
her eye’s intentions of
approaching the primitive.
And how futuristic of her.
Freshly frivolous fabrications
facilitate forward motion.
History sings, even screams:
she jumps vernacular guns!
I’m left thinking of new ways 
to say I told you so.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Stumble

Using a more genuine approach
and swearing by more than
chemical reactions or
malice,
she followed headlights
until she found her way home.

She felt like falling in love again.

Mercy

The day we became strangers.
Fond memories sought
rather than recalled.
Because it's not like
we’re yesterday anymore.
And it's not like my mind is ready,
rotting in hell; pieces falling.
Maybe this is learning but
I still won't call you a mistake.
I watched your legs shake.
And, oh lord, those eyes;
yeah I've fallen apart before but
when I saw those stars fade…


Lovely black holes.
Just please shine.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Short Breaths

I’m waiting by the sea,
only exhaling:
breathing room.



Spine sinks at the thought.

Going Steady

Burden beats steady on
insecurity, and
i wish i could
watch and mend;
know damn well
forwards/backwards
i would bend
for You.
but Burden beats steady
on the mind; unready.
and i don’t know my
way around hell-bent
adamancy.
thought it’d be more like
a hesitant second,
maybe meet halfway.
now i know. and i’m sorry.
Burden, i beat so steady.

The Pink Room

I see now why
memories
are meant mostly
for ebbing tides.
Parting,
I saw your coattails.

Next Time

Sounds.
You run, anon settle;
pavement turned
Silence:
my least favourite in
your repertoire.
A lack of any
known energy.
Ability to bitter souls.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The Inevitable

How’d you like that?
Actions just fine.
I left putting out fires on my hips;
lips entirely charred
deeming revival attempts futile.
And I’d say that I minded, but
my eyes were too keenly
framing, replaying every inch
of reel they could find;
basking in inhibition diminishment.
In that moment I swear
her every line was like the title
of a song I knew I’d love.


She was self-proclaimed
ship, wave, and ocean
sinking to my
touch.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Roadside

Twisted mist lined sheets
fog only for few, rarely new
sought suitors.
And oh, whistles and thistles
tickle dropped potential.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Sparkle

I wasn’t sure I meant what I said,
so I let it sink in.
She spoke of sunshine,
pleaded with my smile.
Let her pride take hold and steer clear
of my direction.
But this time feels different,
(just like last time)
and I fear she means the worst
of what she’s said.
I’ll store our memories
in hollowed trees in hopes that
once the thaw is done, you’ll be
by my side.