Hi. I’m okay. My name is … (private exchange)
Oceanic delight, Mariana Trench – let’s lie on the waves
Get lied to with promises as you wave your goodbyes
The “we’ll soon see each other”s, the “I can’t wait to arrive”s
Gesticulating giant, wide-eyed naivety shines
Juan Valdez roast – a vagabond’s variant vibe
Cash valet parking – pristine ’85 BMW e28
Cabernet off-switch.
Tannins drip from my IV ’cause I don’t bleed DNA
Deviate from the norm. Heliocentric.
Her face is a star
She makes the sun turn violet, and gives rainbows their scars
Technicolor stitches, wounds wash radiant art
Do re mi, one-way street of living, who’s to say that we are
In Eden’s garden, dancing naked to Purple Rain
My dorsal fin can’t navigate the deepest waters.
Irregardless, blood print barely cracks the surface stain.
The takeaway is mundane themes.
It’s okay to want a place to scream.
The days are hard-fought battles, wars go on for weeks, and
Hurricanes are taking shape in the subway steam.
Every Sunday, he tithes revived percentages of hope.
So, a little bit inside me dies from the carcinogenic dose.
AM country station blazing through the cigarette tray.
Grandpa’s epitaphs engraved in indirect faith.
12-volt Citroën culture, French press grit in my veins
Vaudevillian silhouette, it’s like you barely saw her.
Stained-glass windowpane
Leather loveseat
Frankenmuth Bavarian auberge
Accompanied by airport sound wave dispersal
Dial pound eight, to reach the operator rotary nuisance
Call me a mutant, because we hate feeling lonely as humans
Let’s huddle around the baggage carousel until we depart
What bothers me is the converging of a million souls living apart
Common courtesy talks, airplanes are altitude civilian parks
We’ve been displaced by a culture aimed to minimize faith
And dilute consumer bases, zombified mimicking ape
My father used to say – take walks when it’s pouring down rain
Why? So you can revisit the bridges burned in your wake
Never had a father, it was just something I said to myself
Did I divulge too much?
My mother always said keep to yourself
‘Cause the hearts on your sleeve are a poker player’s favorite tell
Manifest themselves as sheep who hastily offer you wool
Did the vague release of my cry remind you of wolf?
Hell in a handbasket, Riding Hood tells us we fear who we are.
Too many questions, not any answers.
Period, pause
Tag: poem
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I feel so disconnected. Pictures of stars are trillions of seconds old, heliocentric. We spend our time wishing we could revisit a setting. I could see it in decimals, each dot a pause in a sentence. Hold my hand, avalanche. Bring me the check when you’re finished, mezzanine at the theater, velvet seamstress, Madam Gutierrez. Qué romántico eres. Carve my heart, au revoir mi mujer. I spend the evening in tears, like it’s common procedure. Every droplet is a sonnet, every water stream a cathedral where people gather, or they scatter, whether it be former or latter, and they pray to their Jesus, and I pray because I have to. There’s order in madness, rhetorical hope in the sadness, like a volcano that’s dormant or a star going dwarf, just part of it all, endorphin hull, heart to starboard. When we talk, disembark. Your lips press mute, Mrs. Vixen, so dissolute, pixel-perfect, lipstick in blue. Vigil for a virgin, vicissitude, picture me as I picture you. Don’t listen when you talk, kiss your ears when you moan, so petite, heavenly, pour the shot glass, and reload. Monkey see, monkey’s cheek perfect on your ocular bone, ’cause to me, you’re as sweet as a strawberry dose.
Through the darkness, on horses, cobweb corrosion, cut through the bark with my sword. I’m sorry, my forest, double entendre, knot in my throat, not even sober, harlequin clone, dark knight imposter, I’m already Joker. Early onset Alzheimer’s, forget what you told me. Along the lines, we’re ostracized, but we’re all really lonely. Wave down a taxi, drop me off on the corner, call me when you’re home. Wait for me at the door, don’t leave me alone. Lay down – the house spins, false belief, methadone, marmalade, cherry tree, cigar leaf, telephone. Qu’est-ce que c’est?
Fasten seatbelt while seated, mi amor, stand to applause, an encore, such a valid response, you’d barely feel it. You moved on, so very far. I checked my bags at the door, viewed the empty decorum, sat at the bar, recount the experience, watched the only bag revolve round the oval. Let me fall, so very scared. We should want what we fear.
Thanks.
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Adagio for strings, invite me to your quartet,
Violin unhinged, idling super star set.
There’s such a brazen touch with the brush
Of true dishonor, get lost in the wade of war,
Or rust in your suit of armor, lust for reclusion
In the midst of battle. I heard you whisper to yourself
Before you held my hand, second-guessing lust,
Fuck hell, heaven’s never fun, never melted suns.
Now I know I’ve never been in love,
Now you get the affection you so desperately seek,
Instead of pretending to get it from me.The head of the center of fulfillment and need,
Ready to pleasure you, everyone, please,
One at a time.
I can only make you feel better, not fix your disease,
Your medicine cabinet. I’m not even alive,
Consummate mind, I’m as dead as our past,
Good luck, Chuck, Romeo, Juliet, without the flask,
Our naked fingers touched, creation of atoms,
Lazily picked daisies, so lackadaisically half-strung,
Paris to Hades, in paradise, we paraded,
Palisades, elated, you never had anything to say,
Learn no lessons from this, no life functions contained,
Just dark to darker days, all shadows are gray,
Just newer ways to create words for heartbreak.It’s sad when you romanticize bad relationships,
To suck dry dried love, tongue-tied in the last remaining bits,
To have a place to badger faith when it all dies,
When the walls break, sunshines are glimmers of hell,
It never ends well, my soul is linked to carbon,
The only thing in common was you both wanted to get rid of yourself. -
Desultory genius, under construction, lost when unnerved.
Nothing more bizarre than the absurdist themes conjured with words.It’s almost perverted with how unconcerned I’ve grown as a man,
Flirting with death, skeleton slow dance, holding his hands.Smile so they see it, hold smog in my lungs,
Breathe it out when the smoke clears, Simon de Beauvoir.Polished the earth that you stand on, apologies worth,
Sleep paralysis, demon passage, toss and you turn.I’m your most perfected distraction, go on as you were,
‘Cause I’ll never be anyone’s anything or something deserved.Just a deserted desert, destructive, berserk,
Deconstruct me to dirt, I’m your diversionary malpractice.Making inadvertent adversaries off these Shakespearean actions,
The never-intended director’s cut, a roll of film wasted.The point of this is concave, an oil drill placement,
Boiled blood painted roses, and the soil in my bones’ clay.Another day, another doctrine, just shooting in my two cents,
Living tooth and nail through this truth is hell nuisance.Give me a hug, give me a kiss,
Give me a fuck, give a fuck about this.Oblivion’s done, an oblivious run-around crypt.