Balboa

Balboa

Do you want to see the jungle at night?
Contemporary wilderness quarantined
Within urban sprawl
Littered with souls
Floundering like fish for love.

Carried via a yellow elephant,
Watching as it leaves
Its panda colored checkerboard stripes gleam.
Slowly we circle the carousel,
Wary of the stillness
Found in Off-Season death.

Crossing broad meadows
Scarred by the skewed skeletons
Of bare oak limbs.
In the chilled darkened dew
We leave hesitant,
Shuffling signs of our progress.

We pretend to fall in love
While listening to the nocturnal cries
Of mammals restrained in their
Paced, humanely-habitated cages.

Gulping deep from cardboard cartons
Of vodka a l' orange
We hike uphill under disenchanted stars
Discussing others like us--young--stupid
Unable to look each other in the eye.

Our path yolks, equally traveled.
You lead me away from the branch
Guarded by the trench-coated gorilla
Counting tainted cash by the cloroxed moon,
And not quite blocking the view
Of needles, plastic bags, and lost souls.

Following instead the other rut
Tattooed with paired footsteps
Swaying to the frantic sighs
Serenading our false moment.
I almost see camouflaged embraces lost
Among the semen stained ivy.
Why did you bring me here?

Escape. Maybe can flag a yellow elephant.
I pause at the carousel and caress the rearing stallion
Who captivates me with his pearlized teeth
Exposed by a lip in a half snarl/smile
And is bound to eternally gallop one step behind
The painted mare prancing before him.

Seeing the damned in distorted carnival mirrors
And brass rings hung just out of reach,
Our embrace is reflected in the black eyes
Of the toll booth and you break the steel jaws
Sinking their fangs deep into its door.

Cramped together with a stool
And a bare counter
Butchered from a living oak,
Closing my eyes so I don't have to see yours,
I mingle my desperate cries
With the drums of the jungle,
Beating in endless, hopeless,
Circles...Circles...Circles.

Shrooming

Shrooming

Cruising along
          At a hundred and one
Singing my song
          And
                 It's
                       Raaaiiiiinnniiinnngg!

The Rug

The Rug

Rolling on the floor, the carpet tingles.
     My Ribs, Oh my Ribs:
           He tickles me and I laugh and laugh and laugh

Crouched over my chest his hair scratches
     My Ribs, Oh my Ribs!        
          Knees at my ears and I try to laugh.

My lips are closed. Smooth skin upon them.
     My Ribs, Oh my Ribs?
         Pushing against my teeth and I can't laugh.

Choking me. Filling my mouth. I Gag.
     My Ribs? No. Not my ribs.
         Sticky wet slime and tears.
               OH MY GOD!
                    I can't believe I laughed.

Poetry Pieces

Poetry Pieces

Flowing Freely from Fascination,
Coming Closer to Creativity.
Pounding Pinging Piano Playing,
Oh, Welcome to my World.

To be a Poor Man in a World
Who Cares not.  Walking
to the Beat of my Heart.
Chugging, Chugging
Wheweeeee!
Lost in Square Shadows
Swaying Slowly by.

Simon Says to Try
Harder
Love as Love is For
Nothing
Searching Hard to find the Past
Finding Faded Fantasies
Flounder

Awake! Awake!
Hear the Chime of my Heart
Beating to the Loss of  Death
Lost in the Deadpan of Sound
Booming in my Mind.

Tisk, Tisk, Shhhhh!
Our Uncle is Watching from
Behind Closed Doors.
Injecting Cameras Disguised
as Inoculations–Cowards

Tumble and Toll

Tumble and Toll

Walking like a skull and bones man
with a peg leg.
Runs with limping abandon
hip joints scraping.

Obsessive compulsion to smell the roads.
Dust and rocks
Imbedded between his toes.
Knees bending back.

Fantasy eyes cannot see
the silver gleam of pain.
Another bumper of steel death
slams soundly into a shoulder.

Rolling, falling tumbleweed style
Low-crawl Belly-scrape to the porch
Hiding under planks of darkness
Fearing blue steel death

Through waves of disorientation
pain spoken with sharp teeth
green from the shadows
Coaxed back to reality carefully.

Carried indoors, fireman style
disgrace and shame rolling
inside pupil blown eyes.
Laid up in the dust under my bed.

Running again, like a truck with two blown tires.

That's Life

That’s Life

Throbbing Thoughtless Thumping
Constantly Continually Consistently
An aura Congeals Color
Grinding Grabbing Gripping
A halo of Tormenting Torture
Enveloping Encompassing Enclosing
Surreal Surrounding Silencing
Piercing Passing never Pausing
Tight Taught Tendons Trembling
Crushing Cascading Crumbling
Decaying Debilitating Dilapidating
Broken Brittle Bones are unBending
Disruptive Distracting Depressing
Everyday Every way Every step I take

Grimy Grease Monkey

Grimy Grease Monkey

Pinging, Ponging.  What’s that noise?
“It’ll be a rod or a shaft,”
says the Shell Station mechanic.
“Might even be the exhaust.”
Grease covered knuckles
scrape the air filter
leaving snail trails in the grime.
Grease monkey climbs aboard
to run up his money tail.
Ringing, Ronging.  What’s that noise?
“It’ll be Visa, MasterCard, or Cash,”
says the cover-alled conspirator.
“No Checks Please.”

Bite Me

Bite Me

I used to sway so sweet
Would you like a burger and fries
With that shake?
Now its stip-stirrupped-stomp

I see you looking, staring
Would you like to see my scars?
They run red and deep.
Would that you Justification
for my gait?

My ass is wide now.
I used to enjoy a size six too.
Why don’t you spend a year
riding as a Bed Jockey?
The boredom would make you mad.
Have your two legs
roll on wheels of four.
Try it for a bit, you may enjoy,
You know. . . walk a mile in my
Ugly, Black, Orthopedic Shoes.
Wear my braces--sure to cause blisters
One Size Fits All

I see you stare, thinking that I don’t
Watching the floor as I gimp by
Looking to satisfy only yourself.
I Know.  I have eyes in the back of my head
and they’re as big as my ass.

Sweat

Sweat

Watching Watching Watching
Fascinated by the slow travels
Of a small bead of sweat.
Laboriously formed at stubbly
Hairline.  Baubles across
Furrowed brow growing
In size.  Pausing between
The eyes,
debating its Path.
Finally slipping
Through a crease
Sliding down the center.
Waiting Waiting Waiting
A large drop of sweat skims
Down the nose.  At long
Last, teetering on the brink.
Hanging by a granule of salt
Swaying just noticeably in
The glint of the light.
Falling Falling Falling
Splatting on the rug.

Thinking

Thinking

Chain smoking menthols,
Gulping Vodka neat,
Biting lemons,
And thinking of you.

Every night I enter
Another mental void
Blocked by deafening music
And think of you.

I look down to my fingers
Curled around a tumbler,
Take another poisoned drag,
And think of you.

My nails are over-bitten,
The cuticles sharp and painful,
Like our love,
And I think of you.

A leather rough voice
Breezes across my neck,
Asks for a dance,
And I think you.

The usual answer,
And the quick brush off
Stall on my lips
As I think of you.

Tonight I’m just too alone,
The ring on my finger
Melts like hot wax
And I don’t think of you.

Cherished but Lost in God's Love

Cherished but Lost in God’s Love
(A little trip from Moses to Jerusalem’s Fall)

Pure of birth, bone of his
Nibbling sweetness, word of hisss.
Purity lost by sleight of hand
Now forever to sweat the land.

Slaves of Pharaoh, mortar and brick.
Children born to drown quick.
Son of a Levite, found among the reed.
Cherished leader of Israel’s seed.

Branches of fire along the board.
“Lead to Sinai” said the Lord.
 Branch for leaning becomes the snake.
Living enemy now one to thank.

Miracles come in two and three.
Hand diseased returned to thee.
Made from Nile of water pure
Hinder dirt to blood, free with fear.

Firstborn in God’s wrath dead,
Partial to doors bloodied red.
First new month--now Passover
People freed to land of clover.

Cloud by day, fire by night.
Seas parted with his might.
Clogged wheels, sons of Egypt
Suddenly drowned, lives short-clipped.

Words of God, a fiery Decalogue
Engraved within the clouded fog.
Wasted faith to calf of gold,
To the desert, a forty year hold.

Raw feet travel the sand,
Banished from the Promised Land.
Reap with eyes, where you’ll not live
Beyond your grave the land I give.

Son of Nun orders two spies to go
Whore of Jericho risk friend for foe.
Stand amid the running Jordan,
Whisk the Ark through waters open.

Great stone walls tower to hinder
Surround d and trumpet fall to cinder.
Gold, silver, bronze in measure,
Save it all, ‘tis the LORD’s treasure.

Laws are reiterated and again sworn
For Nun’s son’s bones the earth is torn.
Led by Judges, while forgetting the Word
Forty years Philistine’s slaves said the Lord/

Barron woman delivers a warrior, long of hair.
Strength is no match for a traitor’s lair.
Bold in the end even without his sight,
Samson tips the towers from their height.

Lyrical sleepers dances by ear,
Deviled spirits stampede with fear.
Lunge a stone, accurate on mark
Down he fell as axe to bark.

Battled Saul perishes self-sword thrust.
Heir Davis now rules Israel’s dust.
Married another man’s wife
Hapless child gets only a seven day life.

Wise-not Solomon to false idols kneels,
Faith in God he does not feel.
Wives worship statues in his home.
Fault line severs Israel’s loam.

Division expands under multiple kings.
Faith is lost, no temple bell rings.
Defile holiness with innocent blood
Fire consumed house instead of flood.

Armies march around the walls,
Crumbled to dust, Jerusalem falls.
Angel’s bitter tears fell from above,
For the Cherished but lost in God’s love.

Dad

Dad

My Dad
A lapsed Mormon
Who’s first cup of Joe
Swirls with sugar
And the following are
Laced with Jim
Or Jack
Or whatever store brand
Dependent on the availability
Of Union Work
Or Unemployment Checks.

Good ol' Walt

Good ol’ Walt

Walt Whitman
Loved his grass.
Walt also loved a man.
He was Homosexual--gasp--
Hom’e’--is where the heart is.
O--why did I think of this?
Sex--yes sex
U--you
Al--all have it
So what’s the difference?
Viva La Difference.

Not Here

Not Here


I thought you were
Going out to start
Your truck
So it could warm up
Don’t bother to take the time
To put another log in the fire,
It was just one thing
And now yet another
That I notice that
You left
Long before
You were not here.

Lost War

Lost War

Vietnam ended in 1975.
My father fought angry
Back pain instead and
Repopulated with his
Careless offspring.

Children of a non-demonstrator;
Victims of his nonchalance
For any side.
“if it doesn’t affect me,
Who cares?”

Lost among the veterans
Playing in the sand for oil,
The new military retreats
From biblical history
And uncertain future.

My father asks about
His grandchildren--my children,
Vaguely remembering their paternity.
If all goes wrong, like Vietnam,
Who will their father be?

Nightmares at Dawn

Nightmares at Dawn

Eerie yellow numbers
Leering back at me.
One by one and two by two,
Together we pass
The wee hours of the morning.

And there it stains,
Warm, wet, and dripping.
Etching into my eyes,
So I can’t see.

Blinding me from the glare
Of a 60 watt soft light truth,
I watch instead the grey drippings
Of a Freudian neutron
Going deeper than he ever dreamed.

Deep. Deep. His knees at my ears.
Sigmund had it wrong.
I never imagined this.

Nightmares are the window to the truth.
Bullshit.
Mirrors are the only truth.
I look into mine and cringe:
My wrinkle, stretch marks, and rolls
Talk of life.
I live. I live. I live another day.

Wind

Wind

Have you ever watched a whirly-gig
Dance it’s wind powered jig?
Fast and slow, east and west,
Moving with unpredictable motion
     …perpetual
          …with the wind
               …until it stops.

Me is Who I Am

Me is Who I Am

Two stars point in the sky,
Making tips of sharp light.
I am a bull-headed, opinionated,
Smart-assed Taurus.

I’m a gimp because I limp,
And NO! it’s getting’ better.
I’ve accepted it.
Why can’t you?

I’m a thinker--I watch.
My mouth always has something to say
And I’ve almost learned
To keep it to myself.

My children are important--
Way more than you’ll ever be.
I’m the Mommy.
I am woman--make me purr.

I study--I learn.
I’m a binary opposition.
The brain in my head
Has a voice of it’s own.

I am not compliant, complaining,
Or much good at conversation.
I am not bigoted, brassy,
Or successful at bragging.

I need words as much as air.
I feel deeply--but rarely show it.
Impassioned, impoverished, improvising.
Some days I think I can write.

I cannot be who I am not.
Don’t attempt to change me.
Like it or lump it--or just go away.
Me is who I am.

Irrigation Ditch

Irrigation Ditch

Life--who said it has to be lived?
I’m cocooned now inside my head;
Enveloped by a down comforter,
Tormented by a brain out of control.
How deep the electrons go,
Yet I can never rise from the memories
Clinging to the grey matter of my mind.

Have you ever sneezed and just pissed your pants?
That’s the unexpectedness of my mind.
For no reason--as unwanted as a public fart--it becomes my Hell.

Today it has me playing in the ditch.
Mud exfoliating my marked flesh--erasing just a few.
Swinging from the rope into the cow-pie swill,
I am purified.

The curving ditch recreates my fantasy,
Carving a couch I can sit on,
Looking into the empty horizon and hoping for a future.
Instead today I cry--

I faced my truth and buried it in the mud
Along with the top layer of my backside
And at least three halves of a pair of shoes.

Predator at last--tears dried--
I crawled through the murky waters,
Imagining tadpoles in waterbeds and
Plucking the entrails  from crawdads.

Sneaking home--having lost yet another shoe,
I face the mirror of my life.
Hosing off the muck I watch as my fantasy life
Is swallowed by the thirsty earth
And the shadow of “The Eye”
Passes my peripheral again.

Now hands and legs spread against the wall--
Reality’s warped mud angel.
The buckle bites my back until
I am just too tired to wish there was a God.

My mind runs over like rain gutters
In an Oklahoma thunderstorm.
And the stain of it spreads
Like camouflaging mud
Tainted with pure dung and shamed evil.
No penalties--no end.

The Bed

The Bed

Evil Keneivel spanned the Grand Canyon
But then he had a motorized vehicle,
We have just a queen-sized bed
     Sealy
         Posturpedic
With an eight inch gap between us.
     And we
          We…
With a combined arm span
Of over six feet,
Cannot manage to touch in the middle.

Mother

Mother

Mother how dear you are to me,
Wallrused on your adjustable bed,
Perched askew in your heroin haze.
Your head falls back on a limp neck
As gentle OD weighs your eyes.

Wiping the saliva dribbling down your chin,
I remember my misspent youth
Under your unwatchful eye--
Lost now to us both.
I wonder why do I not act on
Turnabout is fair play.

My fingertips gingerly grasp your ill-fitting false teeth
As they slowly slide to rest on your uvula.
I’m affronted by the prescribed narcotic stench
Seeping like surface oil from your pores.
And again I wonder--Why?--Why do I not let you choke?

Mother

Mother how dear you are to me,

Wallrused on your adjustable bed,

Perched askew in your heroin haze.

Your head falls back on a limp neck

As gentle OD weighs your eyes.

Wiping the saliva dribbling down your chin,

I remember my misspent youth 

Under your unwatchful eye--

Lost now to us both.

I wonder why do I not act on

Turnabout is fair play.

My fingertips gingerly grasp your ill-fitting false teeth

As they slowly slide to rest on your uvula.

I’m affronted by the prescribed narcotic stench

Seeping like surface oil from your pores.

And again I wonder--Why?--Why do I not let you choke?

I Come

I Come

I come as the night comes

Softly stealing the light from

The corners of your mind

I fill your insides and find nothing there

But myself

At times

I come

I come as your breath comes

Pull me in and out

Take in me as I take in yourself

Need begets need begets self

At times

I come as the dust comes

A mystery over the shelf

That holds small pieces of small lives

Carefully hoarded

I come

I come as my rage comes 

Over me

Filling my insides and pushing you out

Light, breath, existence

Dust, shadow and doubt

I come in by myself and go out

The voices of my ancestors

Call to me

Come dance with us over the waves

Rise with us out of the flames

Consumers of flesh

There is no death

Only time

Like the corridors of my mind

Filled with the voices of my 

Heritage

Echoes in time

Waiting for me

Calling me 

To the halls of Valhalla.

Living Death

Living Death

You say you are afraid of hurting me.
Don’t you know the dead don’t feel?
Your resuscitation brings me to life.
I am as alive as you feel.
The enveloping darkness around me is pierced by a light.
And I try to rejoin the living.
Slowly, the faint stirrings of a pulse
Disturb my cocooned comfort of death.
Blood is reborn and sluggishly
And courses through my collapsed veins
And travels unerringly to my calloused heart.
A tepid temple brings a new melody
And as my calcified lungs fill,
I take a timid breath.
As I expel, you capture my exhaled breath in yours,
Inhaling deeply, sharply, and your heart beats against mine.
Encouraging, enticing, a matched tempo
Through you I live.
If I remain in darkness,
I fear you will join me there.
Strengthening, I take my own breath,
And wrap my empty arms
Around your hungry flesh.
I feed you with exposed emotions
As a mother feeds with her breast.
You give your impossible,
Baring yourself to my scrutiny.
Exposing your juggler to my mercy--my need.
I lean in and gently graze my lips
To your undulating pulse
And feel my heart awaken to your need.
My skin arouses and flames to your touch
Rippling of its own violation as
Your fingertips sweep my ribs.
I breathe deep and know
Death is a lonely darkness
Empty and forlorn
Together we live.

Barkeep

Barkeep

Hey Barkeep--
Give me a Salty Dog
Or rather a Cape Cod
Or better yet a Screwdriver
No, lets keep it simple--
Give me a Lemon Drop
Or skip the garnish
Give me a Vodka Rocks
Really just make it Neat--
Hell, lets be realistic
Give me a Clean Glass
Leave the Bottle
And Go Away
I just want to sit here
With a roll of bills
For Cry in Your Beer
Jukebox noise

And feel sorry for myself.

I Owe My Soul to the Company...

I Owe My Soul to the Company…

The civilized factory--box walls
Concrete floors covered in shiny tile
And faux wood sections
Delineated with action alleys
Where the worker ants scurry

The irony of the baron matron
Suffering the purgatory of refilling
Fuzzy sleepers
Rumba tights
And fifty varieties of diapers.
Rack after rack, pallet after pallet
She relives the lack of her bundle of joy.

The occasionally medicated psycho
Who plays with her smokes
And inhales so deeply her lungs show
Like a red jacket in a black and white movie.
She switches departments
As often as
Her mood swings.

The camouflaged ones who try to blend in
But always stand out
Dropping off-handed comments like feed sacks
That ring of casual conversation
But on rethinking resonance
With warning alarms that too many
Parents, principals, presidents should have Listened to.

Blue collard shirts living the truth that
The company is king and family is second
Just as Kentucky’s miners lived
Associates spend their paychecks lunch by lunch
Working day by day
Waiting for break to be called on the loudspeaker.

My Daughter--My Love

My Daughter--My love

Mothers and daughters never truly know
What crop they will reap
From the amniotic seeds they sow.
Daughters may cry, but mothers weep
As the blood they bore begins to grow
And their relationship’s peace is found in sleep.
Just as trees extend a multi-branched bough
Mothers and daughters apart must creep.
As bread rises from molded dough
A mother’s love must be both shallow and deep
While sloughing off a daughter’s insulting flow.
And yet in my motherly breast they seep.
In my heart I hold you dear--no truer love.
I only pray that me, in your heart, you keep.

Just a Man

Just a Man

Give me a man
I can chew up and spit out
One who loves me enough
I can hurt him
I used to believe in love

Until the bitch taught me better

These Hips are Talking

These Hips are Talking

Dear Ms Clifton
Who inspires this homage to my hips.

The ones that bore two
And loved a few.

The ones that grow and recede
Like the moon’s tide.

The wiggling wanton ones
Desired by some and used by others

The ones that inspire thoughtful dreams.
Sometimes honorable and others wet.

The ones that are second too often
Like a spare pair of jeans.

Only coming out of the closet
When the favored pair languish in the laundry

The ones never coveted by the wearer
Who’s unwilling to trade comfort with uncertainty.

The ones I own and will sacrifice no more,
Deserving to be treated right, prioritized.

These hips are all mine
And if you want ‘em, I’m not sharing.

Missed by a Hair

Missed by a Hair

Our bodies unite in fire
Flames burn with nocturnal temptations
Scorching sheets and dousing hungers
For a life not spent on wasted dreams

Gazing at your presence’s evidence
A stray hair left carelessly on my pillow
I know this infinitesimal piece of you
Is all that I have

I said to say anything to me
But I love you
I said that I would probably hurt you
But I more than like you

Looking at a small, tinted piece of you
I know that just moments before
I was not alone
Now I’m scared that because of myself
I will be

Big Brother

Big Brother

The psychotic ramblings of a drunken mind
Roam the paths of real life
Wondering from horizon to horizon
Never finding a safe place to alight

The peaks fill the lives of the victims
Surrounding his landmind’s zone
The lows caress like a cool breeze
Calming rough tempers and almost forgiveness

Never to admit his obsessions, he rants
He raves, he paces within his skin
Never free from his barbed mind
Always alone, but never alone with himself

He occasionally cries, sanity asking for help
With booby-trapped words and honed gestures
Filling his clip with your hesitant responses
Only to later use the hollow points against you

Snatch, Cunt, Bitch…
Blips meant to antagonize,
Welcoming you to his latest alternate reality
Response is suicide
Avoidance only prolongs the battle

A day, a week, an hour
He’ll ride your back
Spurred by buckshot hate
Chomping for the fight

Endless anger and bottomless pain
He punishes to feel normal
Perhaps even to feel better
Because now you are his victim

No fight here anymore--
I looked for the kindness in your heart
And paid with the kindness in mine--
I’m hardened to your slips, falls, and stays

You can live there, where it itches and burns
Squirm in the alternate lives you live
Your only way out is through yourself
Learn to love the skin you are in

Wait a Sec

Wait a sec!

Hey! Wait a sec!
I know your face
I see you sometimes
When I look in the mirror

You look scared or scarred
Whichever fits
Scared to see your scars
When you look in the mirror

Spend a minute of your time
And you can see a minute of mine
So we can see
Each other in the mirror

I can help you and
You can help me
But only if we see that
We are one in the mirror

Barn Pole and Pig

Barn Pole and Pig

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

A puddle in the bed--so improper
Pissed words pass her lips
Pacing anger rutted paths in the rug
Pointing accusing digits, panting epitaphs
Recapping every past indiscretion
PJ’s are pulled, nails raking pale flesh
She preaches unclean the child
And drags the living filth up the path

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

The barn, the pen, the pole
Muck squishes between the child’s toes
Reeking of dead leaves, left-overs, and lost innocence
Soiled skin slips in the swine-pissed swill

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

Her hand wraps the child’s hair in a bull rider’s grip
Swing shooting the frail body into place
The child’s spine now rigid on the post
Crimson stars bloom on nude skin
As aged slivers bite deep seeking her soul

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

She tourniquets the child with belts
Knees, hips, elbows and throat
The child’s broken gaze is returned
Only by the disinterested high moon
Sleepy snorts fill the air as she snarls and leaves
Oh God
My god
There is no god.

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

The stars shrink from the child’s shame
Nuzzling, snapping, biting. The snout is everywhere
Snaking into the child’s veins with an old widow’s venom
Bristled hair scratches like barbed wire on fire
The pig’s weight buries the child
Relieving its’ itches on her mud dried flesh
The child’s now silent cries are caught on the morning mist
And carried through to the low light of dawn.

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

The child accordions as each leather strap falls
Sweet relief if lost as sub dermal bee hives awake and swarm
Her body stinging with the night’s sins
Fitted with worn collar and leash the child is paraded
Up the path to face the assembled audience

Here Piggy Piggy Piggy

Hosed well water washes with stinging nettle drops
The child allows it to sooth scream roughened throat
The child is cleansed
She is dressed
She is finally alone
In the dusty cupboard
The child sleeps

Strangers

Strangers

Pain, I thought I knew you.
What old friends we are.
But you are a deceiver,
A phantom in my life.
Here you are again,
Just when I thought it safe
To turn off the light.

You found new cracks
Ruling my body yet again
I see you smile as you slurp my marrow
Your sharp teeth gleaming gnawing on my bones
Your strength and vitality grow
As you eat my life from the inside out.

Pain, I thought I knew you.
You backstabbing bitch.

Like a dark shadow you hid
On the other side of my threshold
Swallowing me again,
One bite at a time.

Pain. I only thought I knew you

My 12 Steps

Steps

Every step I take
Reminder of limitations
Lost dreams
New realities

1. I know I have a problem. Standing. Walking. Being.
2. I’ve lost my identity. I’ve become THAT person
    Limping. Lacking. Lost.
3. I put faith in the MD PhD RN PA and other alphabets
    Holding my future in neoprene hands
4. I know what needs to be done. Fearing that reality.
5. I admit nothing. Your stares are obvious as I labor step after step
6. I have lost control and have no faith I will recover it
7. I am sorry for the days lost. Forgive me my loves for the limited life I have given you
8. Forgive me those I have never met for the hesitancy disability gives me
9. I hurl insults to those who failed me. They land on the air and fall into silence. Karma is a bitch I       think. Truly hoping for vengeance instead of forgiveness
10. I see myself too clearly. Angry. Sad. Bitter. Lost.
11. I’ve faithfully felt the surgeon’s scalpel. I’ve faithfully tried to heal. Fifteen rounds and lost the          war.
12. I have what I have. Nothing more and certainly less.

Lyrical Leather

Songs

Listen to the lyrics of the Leather
Swiftly singing on the wind
Whistling toneless tunes
Beating a rhythm of rage

Buckle back talking as it strikes
Singing its scars as they make
Reaping the red be it blood or skin
Making the marks of hate

Listen to the cries as they carry
On cords created by misery
Singing the songs of the wounded
Now written in words created by hate

Search

Search

Sometimes you look for love
And never seem to find it
Sometimes love looks for you
And never finds it

They say love sets you free

How do they know?
Are THEY experts?
Or just more souls
Searching for answers or excuses
For having never found
A way to experience love

Just Chillin'

Just Chillin’

Sitting on the warm concrete
Shaded now by the dying elm
Watching lazily as the clouds float by

Surprised I see images long lost to maturity
Dancing fairies flit and fly behind the sun
Amassed behind them trudge the dragons
Filling the sky as their great wings rise

Pushed forward by a random current
Changing now to a demon with slitted eyes
Trapped, claws barred,
Just inside its cave.

Sitting on the warm concrete
Knowing as I should have intuitively
I see in the clouds
Images I see in me

Dinner Anyone?

Dinner Anyone?

Sip my strength
Gargle with my time
Let it roll across your tongue like a Napa wine
Chew my vitality slowly in small bites
Savor the delicacy
Guzzle my resolve before It goes bitter
Enjoy me while I last
Let every morsel feed you till your plate is gleaming

You all consuming bitch.

Swallow my humor digest my wit
Make me sweat out my pride one drop at a time
Wring my spirit across your sharp edge
And hang it to dry on your barbed line.
Stomp my resolve
Crush my happiness
They only delay your consumption

And when you are done,
Sated at last.
When even your gluttony is satisfied
Just leave and close the door behind you.
So I can start again…

PTSD

PTSD

Why write you ask
Write for freedom
From memories

PTSD What a joke

Post Trauma you say?
Just some Stress
A delayed Disorder
From Memories

PTSD is a joke

I remember every day
Every day
Invasions of the past
Into my present
Tainting the future
With memories

PTSD choking me

I cant simply forget