Living

I saw dawn
drank it fully.
Saw night
and inhaled
its demise.

The Veils Of April

Something felt so strange to my mind
seen in the suddenly
muted flares of stressful eyes,
like they were holding secrets
and had some pain to hide.
Yet they forced a smile to pretend
this nagging that suggested
there was more to the month
than anyone cared to imagine.

Funny how a inkling
can expand in your head,
it makes you aware
of things you ignored in the past.

So April had come
and all around me things were out of place,
only found in little ways
like signal lights that stayed red too long
or cars stopped along the side of the road,
which seemed to vanish
in the rear view mirror.

It was Spring’s spell that had no answers
by perceptions that grabbed the throat,
perhaps there were explanations,
but no one was talking
plus the newspapers always lie.

Just keep on driving
did my best to look for that hole
where reality seemed to have fallen.
Then held on for May
as a dream,
doubt the puzzles would be gone
only hoping my sanity would remain.
  

Of Moments Luminous

What bulbs burning in the darkness
when the mind lives on lightning
until it flashes and flurries
through the volts of fantasy
where thoughts have energy
and ideas ignite so powerfully.

One touch that star in the head
can radiate visions to amazing
like they shoot from within
to explode in the sky,
revealing such incredible sights.

How sad are the lives
who dwell in their own nights,
move and stumble on slumbering strolls,
give and take in questions and groans,
but never feel a dawn in their hearts.

It’s the sad storm of inner torment
where you can hear the sounds of laughter,
are unable to feel the warmth
of what inspires such vivid expressions.

Doesn’t take a single step
for walking on paths of candles
that were made from insight’s wax,
each is lit by some match
carried in the creativity.

Those flames can burn such life
in the cracks and fissures of one’s heart,
truly give joys and hopes
once we pause long enough
so those seconds of lamination
because a sun for our day.

 

Suffocating

Blood rises, body feels in a cocoon,
tightening, constricting,
heart pounds from fear
there is not escape.

Door to the mind
slammed shut by stress operator,
air grows stale
lung find it so hard to breath,
taking the chamber
up the levels of success
always carries the anxiety
about the supports snapping
then crashing to oblivion.

Can’t stop to get off
might end up on a floor
where assassins wait
to make you disappear.

But it is so crowded
so many passengers wanting to ascend,
question nags in gripping dread
who will get pushed off first
before the top is reached?

Riding never a joy
hoping the top will have a great view,
without having to see the corpses
lying on the ground.

Exchanges

I don’t recall life coming with a warranty,
some guarantee my heart would never break
nor my brain wouldn’t slip a gear or two.

But didn’t keep her from having a manual
where I was measured and my actions directed,
molded and trimmed,
unable to equal the paragon
of her fantasies.

Had a yardstick for my behavior,
if I won a single victory
shame on me for not winning two.

Pushing me into a pit,
covered in slime and told it was my fault,
showing pictured of air brushed models
that were to her the norm.

Tried to survive in my depression
until finding somewhere to exchange my being,
get a transplant and new image,
so I would be worthy in her view.

But every change brought more complaints,
nothing ever gained approval,
hate grew on inside towards my own existence,
surely it was my lack of quality,
otherwise I would have appeased.

Then one day I found someone
with a different measure rod,
growing so much height
when inches were checked by love.

Helping Hands

How come love for some
requires the use of pain?
There’s nothing worse
than having the one who holds your heart
cut it out with a knife,
stomp on it till it is crushed
then say it was for your own good.

To have your frail sense of trust,
so delicate and thin,
be shredded in the name of improvement
bleeds you more
than an enemy’s hands.

Sitting in the darkness
totally alone in the loneliness,
agonizing over the reality
death won’t end the misery,
only time you get relief
is when the “helpful” person arrives
who uses whips and torture
as their idea of comfort.

Danger comes when you become convinced
you are the one who is insane,
accepting the beatings they say is beneficial.

And even after you escape
that devil still visits your head,
reliving the image with same intensity,
grateful when morning stops the invasion,
some times still left shaking from the flashbacks.

Midnight’s Call

I’ll hear your moans of needs in the blackness,
smell the deep taboo cravings simmering within your heart,
before I enter through your window at midnight
to feast on the secret hunger you hold inside.
Utterly stripping away with seductive traces by my long finger tips
all your fears and apprehensions
until your naked vulnerable flesh succumbs
unto my every vile pleasure,
then I will take you in ways beyond your dreams or nightmares
until your body lies soaked and tired of screams.

Spent and defiled in every forbidden manner,
my juices filling more than you could ever imagine
as I lie on top to give you
that unholy kiss of the undead.
My fangs slowly sinking into your neck
while you groan your approval,
arms wrapped around me in such clinging surrender.

You’ll never complain
once I begin to suck your blood,
or when I tear out chunks with my teeth,
instead you’ll beg for more.

Even when you are a bloody, mutilated mess,
with your last thought you’ll gasp in plea for more.

For my lips do more than drain your life
they bring you into my world,
tonight you’ll be apart of my cold dark existence,
another living corpse
who shall forever have a thirst
and satisfy it when not sleeping in a coffin.

My Peter Cottontail Pain

How will I ever survive
after the Easter Bunny stole my internet service?
Now He’s hooked on all those rabbit sites
and selling last years jelly beans on Ebay!

It’s such misery too me
since he’s even taken my identity at AP,
hope he gets tired of writing poems about plastic grass
because I sure am suffering from contest withdrawals.

Been appealing to the Muse for some help
only she’s not willing to risk losing out on her share of Easter eggs.

Holding The Clouds

Sky bound soul drenched in droplets, forever baptized in rainbows.

Let’s Deal Here

Now I have a certified and notarized
shopping list of frowns, smiles, giggles,
sobs, shrugs, hugs, bugs and mugs.

All I need is for you to give me the price
for each throb of your heart.
Trust me I’ll make it such a deal.
Why you can even get a bonus
providing you can lie.
So what will take here
a bag of cash just for you?

Perhaps you could put a price tag
on different photos
in order to show me
how much each will cost.

This is simple really,
unless you want to toss in love.
Well the price is negotiable
even more so if you are “flexible”
about the intimacy part.
We can discuss details,
but I’m sure you’ll be satisfied.
Course I have tips available
providing you can really scream
when I’m having one of my sadistic fits.

Should keep you content,
with the money at least,
after all they say money
can’t buy happiness,
yet have you ever tried?

By the way do you take credit cards?
Receipts are helpful too.
Now are you ready to get hired?
All it will cost is your conscience.
Who needs that anyway?

Esculent

Exquisite expression in easily engulfed essences
ever eaten in equally enormous entrees,
which wrap and wound around the tongue
as the zesty snippets of succulents

Oh to be an esculent gourmet of culinary excellence
just let those incredible portions in tasty teases
make the mind alive by their servings,
then to pass through the doors
of that memorable haven in salivating ecstasy
where the word that epitomizes edible efficiency
has a vivid flair in vibrant and luxuriant morsels
totally embraced for its quality and appeal.

To sit and browse the menu of this establishment
is to delve so deep into the lair of luscious layers
until the palate is appeased in tantalizing tongue thrills,
so dancing the taste buds with their caloric ballet.

It is all the ravenous romp in that festive bliss
happily visited that joyous reunion with the seductive delicacies
that are carefully prepared by hands who are masters of kitchen
and wizards of oven fantasies.

 

Click

My lens sees the world in its simplicity,
but I can feel what it doesn’t always show
for eyes of people posing
speak their secrets of pain and love.

So I am trapped as a box
to sit in some hands
while the mind looks through
my viewfinder’s site
only seeing what it wants to see.

Before I can stop sensing
every feeling that comes,
suddenly there is a click
and darkness visits.

Then the one holding me
moves on to the next photo
or stuffs me into a bag
while I must dream and know
what the person didn’t see.

Shards And Stains

Juggler’s contest,
success decided by attrition,
champion is the last to drop
the jars kept in the air.

Exhausted winner
lets go of the pottery
in order to grab crown,
staggering over shards
that causes wounds to his feet.

Conqueror’s wreath
placed over eyes,
because can’t endure
sight of blood
and all the broken pots.

Said I'm Okay but I know how to lie

I spun the lips tales again
just like a sitcom rerun,
my heart was bruised and battered,
but that was love’s baton once more
beating me senseless
like I was some kind of punching bag.

Echoes of practiced phrases
have I passed on as expected
for nobody really wants to know
the answer to the question
“how are you?”

Unless it is okay
that’s the passport to their mind
and we all live in the same hole
groping in the darkness
with the light left somewhere
none of us can reach.

Time for spilled seconds of song,
time for inventing the truth,
today doesn’t matter what goes wrong
since ears only want paradise
to keep the mind from dwelling
upon the pain we all wish to forget.
 

A Small Crown

Wasn’t really a big problem,
well didn’t start out that way,
just the idea of my own little kingdom,
perhaps an isle somewhere,
I wouldn’t have to put up with all the crap
bosses love to dump on your life,
customers who are way to grumpy
expecting miracles for a little price.

So I imagined being a king,
oh I figured I would be fair
not really power hungry or insane.

Then I started really thinking
what if too many cause me problems
just have to expanded my realm?

My brain slowly got more demented
figuring every way to get peace
decided it meant eliminated complainers
and having more territory.

Got so angry over imagined enemies,
plots I knew somebody would try,
became insane like that Queen in Alice in Wonderland,
“off with their heads,”
kept rolling through my brain.

Clutching the desk corner
how I wanted it all,
the whole world, every inch of soil,
mine, mine, mine, nothing else would do.

Slipping into rage of plans,
dreaming firing squad solutions,
governments blown away,
would be the emperor over the earth,
sounded so perfect.

But reality kicked me in the butt,
can’t even handle the guilt
of thinking about cheating on my income taxes,
how could I take over the world?

Went to lunch at Burger King,
at least a paper crown felt good for while.

She’s New

Mom and dad this is Usepia,
yes, I agree it is a unique name,
that silver space suit she’s wearing
is an new type of jogging suit
and the emerald skin
um, that is this special make up she uses,
kind of a tradition where she lives.

Where does she come from?
Oh, she’s an alien, not a citizen here,
they do lots of things different ltthere,
but she really is such an amazing person.

Oops, sorry about the couch,
I realize you just got it last week,
you know how those cans of mace keep improving,
hers just happens to disintegrate things.

Why is she floating around the room?
There’s a good explanation, really,
see she’s an acrobat
and learned it from this circus performer,
really is fantastic don’t you thing?

Darn, sorry about the fern in the corner
guess she’s sort of a vegetarian
must have been more hungry than I thought.

Look here comes the neighbor, Edith,
everything is fine honest,
bet she needed a rest anyway
wasn’t it thoughtful of Usepia
to use that ray thing for rendering her comatose?
It will wear off in a few hours.

Well we are off for a date,
have to admit they are out of this world,
hope you are glad to meet her
because next week her whole family will be moving to town,
should be interesting and so much fun
why they love to help,
er, you have anything against sometimes being green?

A Petition to Father Time

Dear master over every hour of history
could you make them extra special this New Year?
Let my family be touched by days
without some many tears.
Spread our grains of time
across the world,
helping those who are suffering
slow the problems causing so much sorrow.

Sprinkle some hope
among the sands of seconds,
let me see it bring more blessings
than emergencies.

Toss some of your miracle dust
upon the winds
so each person might have dreams
from the sandman’s pouch
that you can make come true
during the day.

And put unhappiness in slow motion
with love felt as if it will never stop,
send some of your endless breath of comfort
to dry so many sobs.

Wave your sickle full of way
for creating joy
until we all have hope the year
will be the best one ever.

Party Hats

Dancing as if rainbows showed in any storm,
see the clock as a serenade without a dirge,
is to wear a party hat over the heart,
able to find that music in monotony’s vacuum,
grasping with melodious clutches of festive fingers
at the stale air of somber and suffocating, stagnant seconds.

Inside the clown sleeps amid the circus
where the mundane morticians of the soul
perform their lobotomy
to remove the laughter that chuckles in times of silence,
intuitively practiced before somebody said make believe
was a celebration vain and foolish.

Oh if eyes only can remember
how to gaze with a child’s fascination,
replace boredom’s pauper with the wealth of discovery magic,
then we shall have be rich in the treasure,
sparkling with happiness in any junkyard.

Each day becomes so precious
when minutes are gleamed for their splendor,
holding onto what gives life its luster in any dullness.

Footsteps

The season’s spirit
comes to mind’s office,
even when buried
under sadness’ blizzard
a visitor
with footsteps
you can’t ignore.

Surprise

Summer in the heart
suddenly shattered
by icy confession,
one night lover
is under age.

Click

My lens sees the world in its simplicity,
but I can feel what it doesn’t always show
for eyes of people posing
speak their secrets of pain and love.

So I am trapped as a box
to sit in some hands
while the mind looks through
my viewfinder’s site
only seeing what it wants to see.

Before I can stop sensing
every feeling that comes,
suddenly there is a click
and darkness visits.

Then the one holding me
moves on to the next photo
or stuffs me into a bag
while I must dream and know
what the person didn’t see.

Sight

Eyes
cold and alone,
bereft of beauty's gaze
has ebbed in the pulse of hope,
hollowness smothering the spirit,
life toils in solemn silent tears
dressing tomorrow in funeral's thoughts
where nothing thrives nor teems
in a promise of intimacy's paradise
until every cloud seen
only brings a risk of storms.

But when love
comes by fate's transfusion
it pumps the blood throbbing ecstasy
as every breath taken
rumbles with the thunder of passion,
leaving mind struck constantly
by infatuation's lightning.
Vision flows from the soul,
angels found in every corner
able to view even dark threatening skies
with expectation it is alive with magic,
knowing you will share it with another,
inhaling inspiration's aphrodisiac
that gives flight unto the heart.

A Beautiful Affliction

It was Tuesday and time for a debate
about politics, the weather or anything
that would inspire an argument
for in the wilted petals of their lives
there was only faded dreams
and vanishing fantasies
left to bloom in a spring,
which has long since lost
any hopes of being stunning.

Theirs was a wasteland
where beauty existed in the dull décor
they were mementos of wishes
before their flowers had more thorns
than the fragrances that gave joy.

But in their stale moments
so far from what they once wanted
the cemetery of their home
felt amazingly comfortable
like a prison with murals on the walls.

It might have been lacking in love,
yet it was all they had left
just spending their time
tried to appreciate the beauty
of what was bizarre and unappealing.

Still embraced because
they fears escape
would leave them
with never finding another person
to share their lives.

Running Up A Tab

Who counts how many drinks when you refill the same glass?
And gravity is to blame once the bar top suddenly
is all the higher than your chin can possible rise,
if resting it there keeps the dizzying sense under control
then I can’t forget those times of lost hours on the bar floor.

After all, it is a nice rest among those cigarette butts
plus the smoke is thick enough you can’t notice the smell of booze,
just ordering on that tab saves noticing each new drink,
which won’t matter since my brain is soaked and numb
with the credit card receipt the only way I remember what I drank.

 

The Chamber

Steps across the marble floor
in solemn reference for the sleeping souls,
whose names are written up the walls
of the mausoleum’s chamber.

Each one has its voice
that speaks unto my thoughts,
lives that call out to be remembered
beg to have their memories told.
Dates speak their generation
while I see the flashes of images
come into my head
about peoples, loves and tears,
which dressed another time.

The farther I walk
more sounds arise from behind
those sealed away stories,
let them enter my thoughts
until my fingers fine the words
to turn them into tales.

They creep into my night
sit by my bed
await for me to truly listen
so I can write what they say.

Masterpieces

Oak wood paneling covering the executive boardroom walls,
part of the plush and luxuriant decor in the Dracula den of profit blood suckers,
each day a confessional conclave for clandestine cravings,
the wet bar their well for drowning guilt's echoes during leech rivals
as they plot another feast of greed using power's fangs to drain lives.

Alone, the head of their corporate coffin for the conscience sips his bourbon plasma
sitting in the room, gazing at collection of art masterpieces that surrounds him,
attempts to adorn with beauty a soul that died when first victim was drained
insides never numbed to stakes of stress, bank account no solution for lack of peace,
silently subduing the secrets of the heart, which longs for spiritual paintings never painted

Is This Decent After life Etiquette

We live next to a cemetery
so every time there is a funeral
our home gets a host of spooky sounds,
eerie shadows on the walls
and things moving by themselves.

Now I don’t mind
the times when pictures end up crooked
or there is a sudden chill in the air
in the middle of the summer,
but what is with things
such as turning on lights at midnight?

What?
Do these ghost
have no idea about cost?
Just because they don’t pay
any darn electric bills
does this mean
they have a right to cost me bucks?

I mean a knock is sufficient
to let me know they’re around,
give me a break spooks
since I get it, you’re there!

If only they would listen
because they could at least be creative
or does that die when you’re a ghost too?

Oh I’ve tried talking to them,
darn specters don’t even muster
some howling reply,
just keep on flipping switches
like they are afraid of the dark.

All I get to do
is prepare each time somebody is buried
for its going to suck me of electricity,
thanks a lot dead people!
Wish you could find a way
that you could flip the switch
over at the house of someone you hate
instead of running up my bill!



 

Exiting Screaming

I love when somebody
puts a deadline gun to my brain
then tells me Russian Roulette
is a prove of loyalty.

It isn’t the pressure cooker
simmering in my gut
that drives me insane,
for it is when you know
some megalomaniac, anal retentive Nazi
has control over your stress control panel
and is a sadistic fiend
who thrives on seeing the lines
on my face
grow tight and stern.

How exquisite is his skill,
the power to plan that perfect second
when he can inflict some intense anxiety
so my nerves become bare wires
exposing my insides
to sudden shocks
like little strikes of lightning,
causing spasms to my muscles.

My chest grows tight
as I dream of strangling one tyrant,
then knowing it would be pointless
since there are even worse monsters
in the chairs who rule his behind.

Biting my lip and smiling
while gritting my teeth,
fingers pounding on keyboard for relief,
finally surviving until the end of my shift,
exiting screaming.

We’re Not Alone, What Now?

When my world became a shatter vase
all around was nothing, but shards,
I asked in mournful tones of pain
why did this tragedy befall?

But there is no answer for the sadness
only my heart isn’t in solitude
around me are the other victims
the survivors who stand numb
wondering how we undo the misery?
How do we find some jewel to hold?

Now is the hour we weep,
yet we do it as a crowd,
someone passes the hemlock
it is an inspiration of grief
then we celebrate by singing a dirge
while waiting for some lighting
that can shine some solution
since we are all too shocked
to think beyond this sorrow.

Where Our Words Failed

Between our hearts a gulf grew,
we gazed at horizon with different sight,
not always seeing what the other saw,
not always kind in our thoughts,
but now as I must slip away
through all the faint echoes of memories
and despite the tears that fell too often,
it isn’t the sadness that will remain.

For in the embers of trust,
the precious gift of being
where we held a moment together,
love is the glow that is always eternal.

Save it now, cherish it always
what faded and failed is a mere vapor.
When we cared and truly were genuine
unto the feelings inside,
how that touch of joy and tenderness
is the rock we truly stood.

Though our lips failed at times to express
the seconds of passions adequately
unto me there is nothing
that will be my wings forever
as much as the feathers
of that love,
which spread even in the dark.

Wisdom

Wisdom is living long enough
to learn from your mistakes
without a need to lie
over explaining being a fool.

It is finally discovering
honesty is a better partner in bed
than guilt.

Gems Of The Heart

You always know when love is a diamond
for it shines so bright in your lover’s eyes,
a sparkle that is just for you
and will never dim or fade in time.

Then lips no longer have a need for words
there are not questions left to ask,
life just glows in that embrace,
all you can see or want
is felt in that caress,
which you just long to seal
with that ring of stones,
a simple band around your thoughts
ever consuming and utterly overwhelming
so expressing how that person is your very existence.

At last comes the day to brings that finally question
when you know its answer already so deep inside,
hands reach out where desire already stretched
aware the response that was given
so long ago in the private moments of nights.

Happiness blooms its brightest
once that word of yes comes
because for once dream and reality are wed
in the coming celebration
that you know will last a lifetime.