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  • gloomy Sunday

    Yesterday

    Saturday

    much fun day,

    spent too much, way too much

    days

    go by like fly buzz in ear

    wise to fear snakes with venomous teeth bore

    crest whitening strips, the store

    the lights, the paths laid through virgin forest

    mosquito swatting summer night

    only light a small step, large leap

    bonfire

    fire kindling sold on market shelves

    here we are, filters on faces

    like kindling but selling ourselves

    words like smoke in dusk-cloud sky

    embers fly

    my sight, my feel, my sigh

    slipped on siren rocks but

    the water caught me,

    high.

  • d(read
    She's a liar
    dread! hearts afire
    a fire, stove top burner
    Left to burn
    owner away
    owner of life is but lesson learner
    with entire life hidden just below a big water-moon sway.
    a dance the night away youth
    a springtime haze of yourself as a child
    poof!
    close your eyes wherever and open them at 30, 40, 50
    you blow lit candles away from a hole in your dirty
    face, heart trampled
    seven billion feet,
    your soul a paved street
    for shuffling around in
    the sleet-slickened sheet of
    phantom gusts, pollen snowflakes
    You sneeze yet still can't breathe
    you take Tylenol pm, can't sleep backaches
    still
    you live in the penumbra of a shadow. tall building constructed before your birth
    destiny's calling is your heart breaking again and again
    duty is putting scattered pieces back in frame
    again and again
    to move like the penumbra you are
    slightly cloaked, slightly choked as world picks at scars
    far apart from yourself, checking old wounds in the mirror
    gradient woman
    radiant woman
    fine woman in the mirror
    time to slay all your fear and at least try and love life
    entrained on empty spirit
    a dear browning fall leaf-dance on gentle air.

  • earache
    I cannot put it down - 
    phone sugar land
    sand dry mouth
    heave
    Land of oh, no
    not again
    no more mileage
    outta this pen
    No more eggs from this
    here hen
    penned in hemmed in
    left unsaid
    In rut after rut
    a nut, a mutt
    year after year
    hollow ache tear
    so far, so near
    book-red mind
    asleep to old fear
    heart-rend time
    must rest
    wounded deer.
  • Wings wide
    Lovely
    rainpatter tin roof
    time to stay
    Awhile, a day
    a second, a moment
    a single breath-take
    finger brush my leg
    take breath -
    away
    clouds of gray
    so ominous sway
    dance done.

    Awhile, doom lurks on this mind like
    moon sunk 'neath horizon line
    fun always ends
    good time always
    one day:
    moves away, runs away
    treats you like a gun -

    so it backs away; good times
    Awhile, 'til dark times run their country mile
    finish line cool bathroom tile
    full fridge, stable time
    high-board smile wise
    Love, no worries Awhile

    but new weeds grow on new grass greens
    sewn
    some harvest oats bound to fall through the hole in the sack
    the desire, the lack
    the engine of whack -
    dealing Siren song:

    Expectation, rumination
    exaggeration of situation
    hands wrung
    neglecting gastank-fill at station
    Swung
    whiplash necklace numb
    Painpill poppin' Earthquake hum
    golden love - real love at stake
    Needle in arm signs contract for take -
    Your Soul signed sealed agreement
    Soul Rape is truest soul concealment
    to dissolve into words on a page
    words that only sound good
    from a Stage

    Words designed Clever, aiming to cage
    birds, wings aching to fly
    cut the cord
    bring curtain-down to stagnant wage
    private housing, bars on windows
    Sage all burning. torture, it goes:
    Keep hope alive
    Keep flame small
    Keep lighter in dresser
    drawer locked 'cross the hall

    They give us all plenty to lose;
    our comfort, our safety, our housing our food
    Our rights, our chill nights, our lights in the sky -
    to keep us plugged in, pumping us high
    with high-minded ideals

    but every soul's unique gift to give lives solely in the lessons lived
    through life's sins swats and struggles
    from which bubbles?

    Which bubbles popped?
    have you ever had to wonder where you sleep, what you eat, where you'll take your next plop?
    If you'll ever be out on the street
    stuck with no love in bare feet?

    Beer chugged, wine sipped, drink poured
    lips pursed on hard sours
    Every cigarette smoked
    every life seeped an hour
    this struggle of our making,
    Faking
    manufactured distaste in present

    only present is
    worth Ripping past the paper

    it's a little late for writing
    I think I'll hit the hay for nightingale flying, a bird
    flight for forever a day
    Shining.

  • Seem

    insane asylum

    in stream of time

    self

    vanishing borderline

    ice melts,

    leaves welts

    by chunks’ spark fly

    in heat of smelt

    baby-cry

    light to bright

    much fill for the eye

    My Lie died for My Time

  • the past, tense
    Its high suspension sigh
    a last-ditch grievance
    spoken, "I'm fine,

    I'm just tired."
    What an offensive line
    what an obvious ball of twine
    spinning lie,
    grinning: Sign hung up meant
    to fool your fast-won friends

    who you just barely mind

    So don't lie in lying love-end
    sighing, expressed with a pen
    whose ink's been drying
    and certainly doesn't write well, stop trying
    to scribble on your hand

    with ink-well dry-spell
    paper-scratched, soul-snatched
    lines of lies

    You cast a spell
    to put you in hell
    if all whose eyes love you
    are just those who fell

  • heroin honey seat
    honey vain, through the pain shoot in vein to be loved, to be hugged by warm arms of cold cosmos.

    locked in little bathroom, he hangs a towel over the mirror and sits his ass on cool toilet porcelain white bleach grass. He sits and he ties belt round his arm tight, needle-haze harem night after night.

    night after night, long dark walks in own shoes, ill-fitting, sole-ripped sneakers still walking on homecoming bleachers and other old news. Stuck in the past needle mast galley-goon goes from man stride to siren swoon.

    at last it ends. Half past ten it ends with hands in old, dirty carpet sands. Hour and a half 'til midnight, clock hands march on in lockstep with wildfire twilight.

    rains pour from cloud-stalked October smothered blue-sky month, delivered by shivered bones, memories of places I used to call homes all left behind to shine in back behind my moat. I dug my mote up before fat lady sung, wrote or sat before falling asleep forever.

    mote is called hope, moat is called nope. I always worried I'd find siren-man swung at the end of a rope. Ropes everywhere, you can just go to Wal-Mart, right up to the counter, float your nice words over ears of cashiers who will take your money and hand you your last leash.

    here, have a nice day sir

    and a smile, a touch of mirth - your country mile; what was it worth? The words you said, the smiles you managed all lie dead in field poppy, so damaged. Stripped barren by hot winds of time, generated by a mind smelt on the burner; but an old shine now turned patina.

    copper-green eyes mean, lies! Never got over the moon of his life - his missed shot at his face on the tv; how sweetly he sang like his mourning-dove pains that he tried to hide even as it ran through his veins, right through him like rains on the prairie.

    all he could be was in love with a seem; in love with a love-needle gleam. Sick dance, trips on the stairway up to heaven because he didn't bother reading words seven:

    "This is a down-escalator, be careful."
    cloven hoofed, horn speared memory playful
    days in the sun all removed from the table,
    brought to the sink to be rinsed and cleaned,
    stuck in a machine for a spell-cast dream
    that dirty soul-siren man might stop being mean

    and start being happy. I no longer believe in such fairytales, deemed by me to be just light- up screens-flicker fables into dead eyes glued to cheap seats.
  • Ray of Sunshine
    end of day happy-eye gleam

    what it means remains to be seen
    you'll have to forgive me
    I'm fresh off a scene of horror film sheen
    taken to the moon, flung off into sun

    meteorites dent the gray face of my life, lent to me by those who lie, and the things I've done with the tears I've cried
    struggling to float in steady stream, a river mouth eye mountaintop sigh, dark valley night brook
    broken dreams, pulled down hard from every high, it seems

    I don't deny responsibility, I try and take it where I can
    where I can understand the cards in my hand
    and
    how the cards were handled by the shuffle-man
    but the universe can only be honest; there is no house to trick you, no bouncer but fate to flick you out

    onto asphalt streets promised golden-hazy crazy game played by people pretending to be happy

    sad smile-eyes pierce me for miles
    and I am chilled by forced wild eyes
    open to all the child-like lies left over
    hopes and dreams of perfect contentment advertised to those who think that
    it's fine to scream
    for happy-ever-after black-screen,
    it's over, red-rover delusion
    if you aren't here you reside in illusion

    so happiness is a fusion - it's okay rainy day, bent over for a daisy day, lazy day busy day blue sunshine infused
    expression let loose, you get to choose
    the crystal breeze
    my breath in my nostrils,
    knowing I am loved when I was just being honest
    a springtime sneeze pressure release,
    I just need a tissue, please -

    something blank where I can place the waste
    someone to thank for giving me a place
    permission to be, love, to forget
    "Me" and "you"
    become one in a summer evening night
    lit bright, hand-in-hand with a friend.
  • A walk in LA
    just another day 
    for full-pocket boys with nothing to say
    to stroll down the street
    in the summertime heat
    to judge art in shop windows with wintertime eyes
    wintertime hair
    replacement hip, golden feet

    it's just not fair! he says to me
    with his air conditioned, full belly blues
    all I know how to do is hit that snooze
    button, again and again
    'cuz I can't get outta bed for him
    when everywhere that he'd been had been for him to choose
    and everywhere he hasn't been yet wanted to go
    hangs on his neck like noose
    heart on his sleeve, loose
    nice and easy, swings wild to bruise

    A springtime-sandy blonde blue-eyed melody
    black-eyed stage-fright falltime swell in me
    as my heart beats hard
    I feel every sheet
    of music pumped through my eye of black sheen, dwell in me!
    come on in, take a seat in the
    perfectly manicured room labeled "family"
    and sit for spell, talk and chill with me

    Me, my walk in LA
    is the day that you popped up to say -
    "I love you"
    I trusted you,
    old as you are to know what you meant,
    not understanding your love was all spent
    worn through, worn blue
    and that the letters you sent had been red-inked too

    So walk in LA
    Shit talk in LA
    Get high in LA snorting shit off the wall that you hung long ago, my call - you'll probably
    Die in LA having never breathed air unfiltered by your expensive machine - live love
    Lie in LA, stay in LA.
    Keep yourself to LA, land of no white or blue but red-sky skyline hazed-brown hue,
    LA, on your arm? Rather live in my shoe under a bridge with shit dripping on me. It's better than you ripping on me, at least from there you'll be tripping on me and my words for the rest of your life
    and to think I would've let you make me your wife

    Oh, the knife stabs true
    "Roger," fuck you
    and fuck all the other "Roger's," too
    who come onto you out of the blue
    think you are pretty and so put you through
    hell, run you through their old self, dusted and shiny, sat perfect on shelf
    28 year old trans girl, how hard she fell
    will forever color her world,
    she can tell

    Because nothing's the same after
    Walk in LA
    not trustin' nobody, least not what they say
    when I crawl out of bed to start my day, I say
    words don't mean anything;
    why even pray? Why even take anything you once thought true at face-value?
    When faces have smiled when they should have frowned at you,
    even your own face in the mirror looks strangely fake,
    no face looks true
    and everything said
    becomes a bad take
    a calm lake is one which best reflects the moon,
    but these waters are choppy and I feel like a fool
    to have given, so soon
    everything of myself to dirty old
    rich boy, never been hungry before boy with a "possible Warhol" on his wall -

    a true imitation, paper men who lay traps for girls they find pretty to fall
    in, what a sin, a soulless win
    to speak sweet nothings in the ears of a girl
    4 years younger than your own son
    and not give a fuck, turn and run when the young girl you trained to cry on your shoulder needs one.
  • click clack
    trained hands on raised keys 
    whack
    fingers fly for years with fingers in ears, type away in the sway of existential fear
    thwack on the rear
    lack, fulfillment in rear-view, steer view
    pull off into the deep blue sear
    sky red white and blue, here
    is home to me, a lost soul to be examined, a gammon, a locked trunk full of priceless cheer
    damn on
    the tv they pump us all full of jeers so we can feel good 'bout our veneers that we pick apart in Wal-Mart funhouse mirrors hung up
    on the side of each highway paradise, sideway pairs of eyes cut on the grass blades mowed every fortnight
    by folks who need cash to keep on the lights at home and
    stash their valuables behind stone-halt stone-wash bone-wash
    bank vaults, hideaway faults; Botox your face right away folks, the darkness is coming called "age" and it's coming to stay so count your bank notes on your way out, same drought on the stairway as in the Bible-belt -
    my way or goodbye-way
    hate felt
    I type away.

Long fake word demystified:


Apokalupsis:

  1. laying bear, making naked
  2. a disclosure of truth, instruction
    1. concerning things before unknown
    2. used of events by which things or states or persons hitherto withdrawn from view are made visible to all
  3. manifestation, appearance

Psychosis:

  • An acute or chronic mental state marked by loss of contact with reality, disorganized speech and behavior, and often by hallucinations or delusions, seen in certain mental illnesses, such as schizophrenia, and other medical disorders.
  • n.Mental constitution or condition.
  • n.A change in the field of consciousness.

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