broken record

the ground rises and wraps around black mary janes
swamp swell and sinking ankle deep in some sort of molasses type undertow of seeping feelings drawn on butcher paper with crayola crayons
my lines keep smearing and blurring on the paper
wonder why everyone can run by so fast
tip toes and two steps while holding hands and blowing kisses at me from their peripheral vision
direct eye contact can be uncomfortable sometimes
exposing broken bits and fractured phrases
gluing together pieces of my heart and
trying to sew back in the guts of it
like forgotten teddy bears with lost buttons eyes and torn stiching
little girls are supposed to know better
when it comes from taking candy from strangers
sometimes turning down that moment of sweet satisfaction
seems too difficult to muster the strength
now lost, again in deep wooded forests without a path
head slightly tilted to squint and spot where the moon and stars should be
all has burnt out like broken nightlights
blurring memories of how you remind me so much of when he left
brings me back to the thick of it
screaming betrayals and frozen feet that refuse to budge
the ground rises and wraps aroud black mary janes
deja vu dancing again and again, and again,
and again

music-boxing

throwing emotional sucker punches
scattering my pages
spitting words out like broken teeth
bouncing off cold concrete
throwing silent body blows to the inside of my chest
knocking the wind from me
making tattered rhymes spill from me
collecting in pools of blood
mingling, mixing with
water and and oil and sweat and grease
painting grotesque rainbows out of memorized speech
my bruises are worn outward, out of anger
out of context i seem bitter
out of order i've done better
left to watch from a distracted audience
to scratch feverish rhymes
in defiance of time
writing your name on the back of my mind
i wrote for you a thousand lines
but you never wrote a song about me

return of the nighthawk

the nighthawk is returning
to perch protectively upon my walled defenses
he will look down over that which i have placed my flag
my world, illustrated by the color by numbers of my perspective
surveys the landscape for roadblocks and hazards
waits to attack if needed
if necessary
the nighthawk is returning
to live presumptively upon my coat of arms
he will offer caution when i cannot see through the fog
keeping my eyes from the ground to the sky upwards to heavens
flying low
where i can see him.

to be awake

silent words stay swallowed
by propriety and
proprietary information is kept locked up in vaults
stonewalled tightly within a blank expression
fears take a firm grasp on my tongue
second guesses second guess themselves
twisting my thoughts into a bermuda triangle of expressing myself honestly
would want to say these lovely words to you that dance from brain to ear
to pen to paper
rather to pour you some expensive bourbon
and see how it goes
liquid courageous and monumental moments in my mind
when allowed to take shape fall flat against the reality of things
silent words stay swallowed
like some sick medicine
i dose myself with not good enoughs and
self inflicted insult tonics
to find solace in thinking i will fail
when what i'd rather do is a far more sinister delicacy
to wrap you up in my inappropriate thoughts for one evening
to persuade you to see my way
through my eyes and into my decadent dreams
where your lingered breath on the base of my neck
is a moment too long to be accidental

future roads

This poem is about you
about the way I feel when your proximity cuts to within twelve inches
about waiting for your hand to move to mine
it is about wondering if you are wondering about me
at this moment
as well and alongside an empty chair
it is a question if you will take it upon yourself to call
it is a question if you will take it upon yourself to write
This poem is about you
about where you are right now while I am here at this computer screen
about how long it is going to take for our personal space to intermingle
about time passing
about a story of a boy who hasnt met a girl
at least not yet
a road to be travelled by matching well worn converse
towards each another
This poem is about you
it cannot describe the way you smell when your arms surround me
it cannot trap the sparkle in your eye when I have caught you laughing
but it can be a love letter to a concept
consider it an invitation to find your way across cities and roads to me
my intuition has given me warning
whoever you are
This poem is about you

numbness is failing me

he spoke to the insides of me
from the first embrace
when the flickers of something more than nothing were
crackling the synapses like firecrackers behind touching skin
even just fingertips
could not be extinguished beneath soft spring rains
fighting against the very nature of things
i vowed patience abundance
branded his name to the insides of me
burned into my heart like a sword slicing through fire
three quick slashes
forcing me to look across crowded patios
seeking the slight squint of a winking glance
finding acknowledgement
until i could find myself lost to him again and again
he touched the insides of me
thoroughly and deeply contributing to the stories within
offering the moments to fuel the metaphors
for more than a thousand days
offering the moments to fuel the dreams
of more than a thousand more nights
when the patience has become my enemy
he dulled the insides of me
to an ache only likened to that of a vast emptiness
yearning to be filled
an unquenchable thirst
waiting for springtime rains to fall again

bottled

cant lock up the anger
using a funnel to pour this liquid lava from my tongue
to entrap the sour taste in dark bottles
marked poison
hiding behind the facade of a smile
fooling myself
want to be better
want to be healthy
want to be happy
if i keep smiling eventually it may become contagious
so why is it so hard to convince myself
all the false laughs have left me
things have slowed
to a quiet moment
where i am shaking up those bottles of emotion
suspended animation of explosions
allowing my feeligns to seeth