Sikhote Alin
Category: Writing and Poetry

Sikhote Alin

You bear my unusual demands,
I break things down and isolate,
you want to gather all things together,
hold them in your calico apron.

It comes as little surprise,
this purity you hold in your hand,
it glitters with newness and life,
the passions of our engagement.

You give birth to tragedy,
and I fill your cup,
together we drink until drunk,
I am Apollo and you Dionysius.

This wild ecstasy of unbridled passion,
it moves with you as your twin,
two spirits as one entity,
I am checked and destroyed.

You paint me in this arena,
an individual acting upon his desire,
my steps are uncontrolled and free,
eyes they stare as the wild.

You have made me an animal,
a brute beast of the field,
gore me with your spear,
roast me upon your altar.

I wear my expression like a mask,
an actor upon the stage,
the primitive totem of judgment,
my eyes see far away.

You poke and squint and pinch,
a brightly colored canvas is your face,
fields covered in lilies,
golden sun shining down.

5:43 AM - 18 Comments - 18 Kudos - Add Comment

Dispossessed
Category: Writing and Poetry

Dispossessed

She wants it spoon fed to her,
served with perfect desolation,
often loved in the wrong way,
an essential part of my soul.

Sequestered and weary sinews,
myself very near heaven,
you require my close attention,
if only I had the strength.

You sharpen my appetite,
voracious and unsatiated,
our enemy, this modern life,
our virtues are only transparent.

A new and surprising light,
we are still haunted by the facts,
our dreams turn to dust, a mere vapor,
divided with a savage eye for the details.

The harsh world of the dispossessed,
they cannot touch us, no matter,
our keen sense of injustice,
you inspired by everything.

My bright and shiny thing,
that is what you are,
the rock succumbs to the pressure,
release found in the response.

These things have no meaning,
in this time and this place,
they are from another world,
one with more substance.

You know this, still you pretend,
wanting to return to another time,
turned to dust even as you grasp,
the sea became so full.

You and I are both insane,
we multiply our madness,
drink deeply from the well,
perfection is your misunderstanding.

11:50 AM - 20 Comments - 26 Kudos - Add Comment

A Long Time in the Bathroom
Category: Writing and Poetry

A long Time in the Bathroom

I

She was trying to do my thing,
on her hands and knees,
feeling the cold bathroom tiles.

The air pushing its way back out,
it is a pungent haze,
the events unfold,
incredibly natural.

I feel her skin,
it tastes of sweat and determination,
trying to get off.


It broke my heart,
to take a bite,
yet I did.

We become one,
two spirits in one body,
individuality melts into collective.

Together we move and become,
an acting organism on the environment,
we exist in the now.

It is a show of spit and blood,
we are delivered from the evil,
one spurt at a time.

II

The untested steps of youth,
your first solo flight,
with mojo and desperation,
to make the dead rise.

You dig into the hardened earth,
with your pointed little stick,
a season of surprise,
not ready for such things.

You are saturated with feeling,
this I can't resist,
your rebellion is addictive,
a sweet and nasty drug.

Crawling across my distraction,
nails digging into the flesh,
remember that it is all rhetorical,
balance takes practice.

The parting of the seas,
you are my miracle,
a wall of nothing surrounds us,
together we walk on water.

We find ourselves through,
wrap your legs around me,
hearts beating as one,
we disappear as a ghost.

You calm me with your purr,
it is a natural tendency,
your gloves way on the floor,
they feel me always.

You are my secret prison,
interrogate me with coercive techniques,
I am your subject of surveillance,
a lovely rendition.

III

Single words with pauses between,
we made mistakes out of fear,
I am possessed by you, pulpified,
happily I receive my punishment.

My words live and breathe,
you are my torture and deliverance,
rising up out of the waters,
a dove flying in sunlight.

Reason escapes me,
as you drive a hard bargain,
no wiggle for negotiation,
pardons for the guilty.

You and I, a road to discovery,
to sweetly kiss your neck,
hear you sigh with pleasure,
more than a King's ransom.

11:24 PM - 6 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Check out this video: Puddle

Check out this video: Puddle

10:16 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Loyalty
Category: Art and Photography

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10:02 PM - 4 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Blister
Category: Writing and Poetry

Blister

Your words blister the tongue,
a fist full of black death,
scars are all permanent,
pumping up and down.

The windows are all open,
we call out to the wind,
your fever only responds,
nowhere for us to turn.

My fingers fumble with the snaps,
we found love in the dictionary,
next to an old dried out rose,
no better place to go.

You sit next to me in the garden,
we listened as the jazz went down,
the magic of creation,
flew over our heads.

The doctors ask questions,
and lawyers bring smiles,
full of love and beauty,
laughed and shook their hands.

I looked into your eyes,
we painted our faces like clowns,
running with the pack,
has become equally cheapened.

Now that I have my P drive back,
we are mere mortals,
lost in the fabric of discussion,
her usual simple kindness.

A look of unmistakable pleasure,
decidedly wicked mood,
speaking on my behalf,
opening into a wider world.

Lives of quiet desperation,
a playful mixture of color,
who invite their fate,
the few lucky survivors.

She provokes in me a reaction,
something more sinister beneath,
she loves me with sadistic humor,
looks so pretty in pink.

We are so full of self-loathing,
finely spun fantasies,
a curious state of affairs,
she plays with lewd revelations.

Born an exuberant spirit,
she sheds more and more light,
strikes me with disproportionate violence,
my thoughts cumbersome and restrictive.

It's a wonder that we can function,
let us go with what works,
we will leave the rest for the fools,
to figure out in their classrooms.

Far out beyond the pages,
threats begin to loom,
like vultures circling round,
dented from many battles.

12:58 PM - 15 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Hammer
Category: Writing and Poetry

Hammer

I

The hammer needs its nail,
otherwise there is no purpose,
we step outside the boundaries
and find a social ritual.

All of our tails have fallen off,
still we long to return
to the cool dark waters,
the primordial ooze of creation.

Distance and time fall away from me,
like the scales of distant cousins,
as they crawled up onto the shore,
sunning themselves in the sun.

My knuckles no longer drag along
the ground leaving trails in the dust,
a fig leaf covers my nakedness,
I have left the garden.

II

Walking down the barren streets,
patchwork of grey and black,
clouds weeping over the earth,
the spot marked by a little white cross.

The soil coughs up its illusions,
blood, sweat, and tears,
generations come and go,
where you do not want to go.

There is a possibility,
even within the darkness,
though my chains are bloody,
they speak of hopelessness.

I know their words are only lies,
tell myself this over and over,
yet I listen to them again,
take them deep into my heart.

III

It is there that they grow and prosper,
like the vile weeds that they are,
a poison to my mind,
venomous sting of doubt.

Like an addict I wait,
torturous long hours of wait,
hope holding out for the littlest,
inkling of word the sprinkles.

Rejuvenates my trust in humanity,
that life will blossom once again,
bring forth fruit of life,
before it dies on the vine.

A little taste is all I want,
it never really satisfies,
the hunger is still there,
still calling my name.

7:18 AM - 22 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

Voice
Category: Writing and Poetry

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Voice

Beat back the evil,
that single word,
misty and silent,
always before me.

Wandering and tormented,
this thing of trust,
on the threshold,
of great things.

A voice of longing,
wistful tone,
my blood runs cold,
spell of wilderness.

My brutal instincts,
forgotten and left,
gratified by my,
monstrous passions.

Kicking loose,
from the earth,
impenetrable,
darkness.

Bottom of a precipice,
the never shinning sun,
lying in the dark,
waiting for death.

Veil torn in two,
ruthless power,
and craven terror,
intense and hopeless despair.

I remain alone here,
dreaming the nightmare,
merciless logic,
futile purpose.

I wrestled with my,
inextinguishable regrets,
life is the greatest riddle,
penetrating all the hearts.

Stepping over,
the last stride,
doorway that leads,
to the invisible.

6:43 AM - 9 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Check out this video: Wrong

Check out this video: Wrong

11:19 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

puddle
Category: Writing and Poetry

Puddle

We scribble outside the lines,
measuring the space,
thumb and forefinger,
heads thrown back.

Farewell gaze and pouted lip,
ancestors on our backs,
taking it all within us,
we hear the hum of far away.

Belief is in the taking,
this we told ourselves,
wrapped bandanas around,
holding in our reason.

We cross the bridge,
hand in hand,
wandering lambs,
in wonderland.

We melt together,
against the flame,
we have no resistance,
bouncing back and laughing.

Wrecks rusting,
in a junkyard,
guard dogs lapping,
climb the tall fence.

Weeds grow around us,
caressing our sharp edges,
we could imagine,
sunshine on our windows.

A lonely bird,
sings a joyful melody,
something we could dance to,
if only we could move.

The true sentiment of angels,
push through to my soul,
among these people,
tasting the indignation.

You blinded me,
driven by the lust,
pouring out of me,
carving my image.

Deeper reaching misery,
bare knuckle surprise,
turning ink stained pages,
waiting for the fall.

We are inspired,
by jumping dogs and,
those who point sticks,
they are our heroes.

We laugh in the rain,
trying to find the center,
wanting better pay,
and over priced coffee.

Our sleeves pushed up,
always ready to rumble,
another rubbish day,
wallowing in a puddle.

8:40 AM - 9 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment