Some Days

there are some days
that I want to cry
when I see the
beard man
child eye
telescope
planet formed
bone muscle tissue
light reflect
soft touch
kiss spit
afternoon love
that exists all the time
but I look past or through
because of
work stress
jealous rage
second hand
money tight
humid city
broken car
nightmare
ego boss
self doubt
that consumes my energy
through blood soaked
need for release
but to afraid
weak
or strong
or I don’t know anymore
anyway
if it really matters

9:16 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Envy the days

I envy the days
when men fought in back alleys
instead of pulling cheap pitols
or cell phones
with pigs on speed dial

I want to feel
a fist on my cheek bone
and the sweat flying around
as my knees and elbows
move like birds
through humid air

I want to feel a real connection
the kind of connection
that draws blood
instead of just yelling
at people in traffic

9:57 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Does a Typewriter Dream?

does a typewriter
dream of poetry?
does the machine dream
of the steam
and the energy
and the movement?

does my typewriter
dream of me?
When it is locked away
in it's cold black box
waiting to be resurrected
spitting oil into my drunken face?

does a typewriter
remember the hollow nights?
that we filled up with
anger and sadness and inspiration
until we found love and understanding
linked together with flesh and metal?

does the typewriter
know what it has given me
and the rest of the world
even though so many
choose to keep it locked
in it's sad little coffin
dreaming of another holy night.

10:58 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

average mutations

The exaggeration
of human genes
happens over the
orders of
whopper sandwiches

Branded like dogs
until this all
seems more like a
experiment
than real life

being average these days
is the only way to be extraordinary

10:17 AM - 0 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

THE MORNING AFTER

cold eye
shadow
side looked at me
through the teeth
down the stomach
shot through
tunnels and holes
bubbles up
overcoming
until I forget
everything
again

Cold eye
shadow
side looked through me
this time
like a mirror
but I didn't recognize
my face
as it spit
un grateful words
and hatred for the world

cold eye
woke up this morning
looking straight ahead
unable to recollect
or say I'm sorry
because the shadows
don't know
what they are capable of
when the light is around
and they slip back into your feet

10:30 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Dancing

After much thought on shooting metaphorical type settings into short stories with no hope of hitting their mark, I think I'll just write the damn thing for real...

February knocking at the door. A year of rusty nails and cheap liquor have left me sitting here, alone, once again. Sipping off a bottle of cheap wine.

Past the cold damp mornings and past the moon rising over my smokey breath. On steps of some building built by someone I don't know... maybe long dead.

And so are the memories.

Not a star in the sky tonight. And not a drop of rain in the forecast.

A fluffy feline rubbing its cheeks across my calf, needing some affection as the cold winter sets in once again. And this time, deep inside, the death in the trees actually gives me a slight nausea in the pit of my stomach...

This will be a long winter...

Another deep change. It happens so quickly anymore. You don't see it coming and all the sudden it taps you on a cold shoulder...

You wake up older, pounds hanging from your chest and face. An addiction to cheap whiskey when you have money, and an addiction to cheap vodka when your broke.

The people from that strange myth-like past have been replaced by something else. The ones close start to morph into things you do not understand.

The threat of death riding that old black train. Speeding through the night.

Not a star in the sky, but the moon is the size of my fist.

Those of us that start out strong fade away, unnoticed.

Those that held back so long break free.

No longer needing.

You.

The story ends before it begins.

But we already knew that I think. So long ago when we made that decision.

To stay.

Now we are left with that old black hat. Dust it off and dance with it on. Pull something beautiful from it one last time before it turns to ash.

At my expense. Just like I always knew it would be...

And that cold steel bridge dances across the nights sky. Fog lifting everything up to the heavens...

There two things that keep me from riding the wind on the side of that mighty structure.

My art and my bloodline.

It should be said. I was never meant to be here.

But I think we have established that already.

People dancing day in and day out through caffeine fueled rages of blood sex and money.

I was lost with the love of simplicity. I was lost with the need for questions.

so now I will go dance with the egos... not a star in the sky. With my smokey breath rising to the moon past the cold steel bridge of New Orleans...

10:20 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Cleaning out the CLoset

some people
have skeletons
hanging in their closets
Cold, white, bones
breaking and falling
into neat little piles

but I'm not one for metaphors
because skeletons only scream
in shitty horror films
and I don't watch cable

My closet is filled
with empty beer cans
some with little words
scrawled across their
colorful logos

My closet is sharp
with broken whiskey bottles
mad with the power to create
and to kill
and to do nothing at all

My closet is stinking
of rotting fast food wrappers
shiny and covered
with the juices and the fat
bloated and lazy

My closet is stuffed
with an old tattered couch
and cheap television set
two cats
and a typewriter that needs attention

This year
I think I'll open up the door
and let all of these things
vomit out into the streets
and fill the void with words

11:22 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Remembering the Rabbits

i remember the rabbits
cold metal white
pink eye cutting through
green oceans
yellow teeth
spitting blood red
coughing
snorting
wheezing

I remember the rabbits
who took away my lover
that took away my love
that gave me a parking ticket
the first day of the new year

I remember the rabbits
that sang
throat sore screeching
into bent and bruised microphones
voices dented in the smoke air night
telling you whatever you want to hear

I remember the rabbits
30 feet high
crushing cars
smashing windows
killing people
as they swept through our cities

I remember the rabbits
rodent quiet
cute
soft
and waiting
to take over the world

11:02 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Being consumed

I saw you
looking up and out
with graffiti dripped eyes
painting yourself
the color of your feelings
sprouting wings
made of the shattered bones
ripped bloody from the broken backs
of every person who
has bore this weight
before us

I watched you
as you sucked the poison
out of the wounded bottles
inhaled the indian smoke bombs
and shot flames back out
between the golden teeth
that chew
and pronounce
and destroy
as stars burned out before us

I've seen the monsters
that walk the streets
with too much make up
and too much time
and too much money
confused
unable to define themselves
or do anything
when they don't really have to
do anything at all

And I've flicked my fingers
and jabbed my eyes
wanting to save them
by killing myself
so now we'll sit in the quicksand
you and I
until the shit
rises to our faces
consuming our powers
because that's what consumers do best

7:54 AM - 6 Comments - 7 Kudos - Add Comment

Gods Television

sitting like a child
on the shoulders of old men
drilling into the top of their skulls
to let out all their wisdom

because life is not
like a hollywood movie
even though the right song
may kick on at the right time

the skin falls
slides down behind
giant over sized sunglasses
but you only cover your hands when its cold

and when it's all over
God will pull out your video tape
and play it back for you
and we are all our worst critics

so I will act like a monkey
and not brush my hair
because I'm starting to doubt
that life is about clever t-shirts

I'll spend more time with my cats
and less time at cocktail parties
because some animals are easier
to get along with than others

And when Gods widescreen Television
plays back my movie
I want to be the lead
and not the supporting actor

and even when that perfect song
kicks on at the perfect time
I won't act like I'm alive
I will study the lines in my hands

you can't see the stars in the city anymore
because everyone thinks they are famous
so I'll turn off that TV for now
I'll have plenty of time to watch it later

10:45 AM - 9 Comments - 16 Kudos - Add Comment