some more poetry.

UNDENIABLE 7.22.07
How I ache for you…
Do you not know the sweetness I have tasted?
Can you not feel him knocking?
I feel a river flowing within me,
Power of life,
Of hope,
Of victory over death.
Do you not yearn for purpose?
Do you not feel the void in your heart?
How I ache for you to meet him…
A fire burns in my heart,
Greater this day than any,
For you to taste his goodness.
For you to fill your quiet lonesome days
With his joy and praise.
Whether I sing a cliché song,
This is all I know to say.
I long for you to know him,
As he longs for you.

BINGE BOY! 7.16.07

Does it help you forget me?
Pouring sweet burning down the pipes…
Slam it down,
Another
Another
Another.
This is just another breakup,
Another day of you hiding in corners
From something that is dripping
Down your chin.
Empty?
Not a bit…
Rather overflowing with sour liquids,
Oozing the hate you mix up in your stomach,
Acids burning on nothing.
Turmoil sloshes in your gut,
And you just keep pumping it in
All the heavier.
"I was trying to forget,"
Is the traditional line.
But do you always forget
That you never can?


9.30.06
This is just another day,
Downtown.
I saw a movie,
By myself.
I think I enjoyed that.
It's easier to hate things,
When I fly
Solo.
And I love things, downtown,
But they are small
And random.
All the little things
I hope no one else has
Ever seen
And enjoyed.
The cigarettes can cloud
Me up.
Reflecting my innate sense of
Non-existance.
It reveals to me that there is
Nothing
In the aloneness of my days.
The singularity of my hours
Is false.
I wander the streets,
Damp with garbage and
The garbage people.
We are weighed down,
A huddled mass of
Lonesome,
Longing to go home,
Yet when we arrive,
We find the toil
And hate
To be too much,
So we leave again.
We return to the
Pollution
And the detox of our souls.
But at least we are
Not alone.
Dying for some company,
But always accompanied.
I swear,
One could go all day
Without speaking
Down here.
We just walk and wander
Till our feet are blistered,
And our sorrows
Crusted over.
Maybe this is
"LIFE WIDE OPEN."
Somebody put that on
A building down here.
Somebody had a little
Ambition
To name this state of mind,
And this city of this state.
This LIFE WIDE OPEN,
Teaching us to be open doors
To one another.
The city taught us
How to bum a cig,
How to spange a quarter,
And even how to meet
Ourselves
And no other.
When you cannot talk to the
Others,
The owned brain is all
That satisfies.
We are lonesome
In our heads,
With the smog
And the ancient gutters.
It's something like
Today:
I saw a movie
By myself.

DESANITY 2.17.07
i've got a little tension,
just a little too much pump of the blood.
the noose is scratching at my neck,
begging a drop if i don't stand still.
this is the tightest i've ever been.
i've got a little tenacity,
a little jump the gun and go for it
kinda spirit in me,
and this midnight fistfight is beginning soon.
i've got a little twitch in my right leg,
just a little ache for the road,
and an aneurism for the sake of discontinuing
this hanging process.
i've got a little bit of acid
pouring down the spine,
just a little itch driving me,
just a little bitch tapping me.
i've got a little grind time,
a little grindstone on the jaw,
mixin with the blood in the sides time.
just a little scarring down the line,
leaving a mark, just marking my time.
i've got a little adrenaline,
a little pollen eating buzzing bee in my eye,
a tremor down the arms, and an arm length
nearer to the grasp of desanity.


Rise and Eat 10.4.05
You don't wake up these mornings,
You rise up.
Eat the day, girl,
It's all yours, baby.
Peel of your old skins,
Wash out your brain.
Today the sky has arms,
They're gonna sweep you up.
Dance on the street,
Sing when you talk.
Time to rise up, baby,
Eat the world.
We're gonna take it by storm,
You hold the scepter today.
Stand on mountains,
Shout Daddy's love
And you'll start tornadoes.
Swallow the ocean,
Rip down the clouds,
Or just plain smile, darling,
Works just the same.
Either way
It's time to rise up baby,
Eat the world.
Adult Church Service 10.5.05
This beating is earned.
Separation from life.
This song I sing
Is called solitary confinement.
Let me close my brain
Until I can be free again.
AIDS 10.5.05
Sing the song of sinful living,
Don't listen to my cries.
We can close the shades,
While the rest of the world dies.
In my safeguard country,
I need not fear at all.
Money and sex will fix it,
Just get on your belly and crawl.
Hide our biggest mistake,
The beloved, gold dying lands.
Precious lives we will waste,
Let them all die on home sands.
Math and Me 10.6.05
I hate math
With a passion.
Let's tear the books,
Snap the rulers,
Break the pencils,
Smash the calculators,
Run out of class,
Burn down the school,
Land face down in jail,
Stamped prisoner 243.
Just a number.
I hate math
With a passion.

WHAT DREAMS MAY GO 4.19.07
what am i, if i have given up on everything i once was and wanted to be?
from sparkling heights i blazed with opportunity,
but now in the deepest pit, my breath is a shuddering whisper.
have you felt black liquids seeping through every pore?
it as all you can create, and all you take in.
it is the second eyelid, congealed and sealed,
blocking all but the memory of light.
are you resilient any longer, o heart?
are you shining so bravely in the face of pain,
or have you resigned to pain's throat?
a deep and open grave.
the blackness of which so appropriately licks and swallows me,
not whole,
but in rotting chunks,
which i prefer to tear off myself.
o heart, have you known such blackness as this?!
when you look up out of the pit,
can you still only see the bottom reflected?
mire and mold weighs down so thickly,
so quickly infusing my last moving parts
to a brain that cares no longer for hope.
and here i lay,
but where am i,
if i have given up on what i once was and wanted to be?

GRAVEL
night after night,
sweet skunk,
swing sweet and low!
don't pressure me none,
to swoop low over this south.
night after night,
the skunk hunts for love,
and finding none,
rests on my lips.
don't test me,
my pressure is twitching
on my neck.
ashy pain, and grey tongue,
rotten apples mixed in....
my skunk.
no, rotting vegetables!
dying crushed leaves.
such a pain in the nose,
but she has such a beautiful name.