Sail OnSail on,little wing,with starlingsin your pocketsand that turned up smilebelow your navel -glorious budof mischief.Don't you knowGod made this dayjust for you?The grass begs for your kneesto rolland the palms of your handsto strokethe vivid green,and the skywelcomes you like Calypsointo my waiting armsCome put those petalson my facelike only youknow how to doand make me hum.We are burning daylight -glorious blisterson my toesand right below my beltlinewhere your sunbroke promiseand set my spinesinging.
WoundedIf my war wounds startle you,it's only Godthinking out loud.Each blunder tellsa story -a gash where cannonsmet their makerout on glory road,or a shattered boneleaving the witnessesto breathelike barren fodder.There is no joyin battle,only a thin bandagethat seals off humanityand cuts my fleshto the core.So make your wordsa quick and shallow gravefor my eyes saydo not disturband silenceis a deadly animalI have left brokenin the dark.
This Disturbing MagicIf you listen very closelyyou will hearsummer longing to be remembered -the soft chortle of beesmarried to low tideand the bright whiteof Asterslowering their flagsagainst the early sunset,as if to remind usonly our memories are warm.You can hear the curtains breathe,impatient flood through weavein pale tawnyand lemon,and the garden's edgepucker up its troveof green embers,making way for the dog'swet kissesand wool mitten bit fingersstringing the hedgerowswith this disturbing magic.
BeastYour loveis a curious beastshe whispered,her voice disappearingdown my spine.Its back is boar brusque,bristling between the sheetswhere dark hangsover us,and its legslike fine gazelles -lithe and sweetly haunchedagainst my sighs.I love its strong flanks,brindled like the wind,stripping back the airthat haunts this roomand the swift peltof its bellynestling denselyin the chasmwhere only the moanof tangled breathingbreaks the silence
Mad ManI think I lost usin a glass of scotch -softly drowning,going down likeevery mad manI ever envied.Why did I believeyour lips tastedso good,sweet and heathenlike the heatherI laid you inthat last nightI came home?I had a thingfor damaged women,and you could drinkyour mother's last wordsin everythingwe wasted.
gonethat limp,lamp-bitten soundleft warbling on my deskwhere the glasswent sick with longing -how do we start over?your note said it allwhen you put down the penand I could feel the airforget your name,coals in the gratehissing their warninglike a dirge.i was born too lateyou said,and the robins bare mourningon their breastsso beautifully.your feet always knewthe way home,fighting their instincts,with the purgeof simple liescrushed under themlike the lost giftof caring.
Sudden PoetryShe speaks from the hip -noun sharpand raw as Tuesday,her shoulders telling the floorwhat to doas her shadow drainsout the lightand leaves his mouth dry.He likes her whiskey lips -could fall in lovewith the gravel of her smileas she tells himthere is no one elsein the whole wild worldwho can own her skinlike he does.She tries on his verbs,runs them up her legslike stockingsgartered by his breath,and murmurs he isa perfect fit.And his voice,when she grasps itwith her thighs,curls updeep inside hersomewhere,and blooms likesudden poetry.
To OthelloCome, my lord,and we will makethat legendary beast -your dark against my lightamong these shadowson the wall.Let me soothe that livid puckerfrom your doubting skinand rend the jealous knitof your jerkinlike a slow weave against my breasts.Let me sweeten the wine -honey singing in the gourd,drowning his false wordsin a stupor,just a viper lost at dusklingthat my lips can easeinto an afterthought.You see,this handkerchief is pure,chaste as the lightthat beats upon our names,threatening this house;and the envy of lesser menweighs upon me herelike war drugged childrenleft dreaming in your fingers.
BlinkBlinksaid the boy with the cameraand this momentwill never know our names.It will take your best parts -the smile you saved for Sundayswith your good dressand handkerchief,knees pressed tightagainst the resurrection,hoping mother never guessedwhat prayers were leftupon the altar;the kisses gathered for your lover -passion's flagrant promises,not the chaste monstersschool girls dream ofwhile sweaty palmspin wilting corsages to tulle.The surprisesdelivered to the front doorat Christmas and graduations,circuses disguised in boxesand envelopes stuffed like dates,all wrapped in heady silk;and the tearsyou thought everyone knew -steady friendssince gloves were small,secrets that swore to leaveat pillow fights and seancesbut never let you breathe.All capturedlike flash in an iris,glorious imprintsand the grain of paperyellowing gently in the atticlike your heart's montage.
WarningThat dark twinge of stormunbalancing my left eye -lover, take warning.I came through the back door,unhinged and savoringall your little pieces.You said you loved my twisted english,the way I broke words apart,just like daddy's enemies.So slide me under your doormat -I miss those dirty feetand the disconnectof your tongue.You know I love how youwaste my eveningsand bring me the dangerous bitsonly a lover could swallow.
Grandmother's HouseHe hated his grandmother's housewith its heavy curtainsbleakly disapprovingof the postman's tardy shoes,and how the maidrescued the newspaperand poured the thin sherryinto tiny glassesevery night at six.He loathed the claw foot sofaswith their cushionsshrinking from his trousers,each plush thread recoilinglike conversation,reminding himhow unkempt he lookedand why his brother left.He despised the birchwood bedscarved into sarcophagithat flanked the radiators,their pencil postspoking the bodies of the willingand how the bookcases groaned knowingly,waiting for ominous wordsto echo from the hallwayand beat down the keyholes.But most of allhe hated the dining tablewith its sallow woodgleaming his reflection,the china leftto fend for itselfand the cutleryswallowing up the familylike a feast lost at noon.
FootprintsNo footprintsmar the sudden summerof her wishful thinking,only the wind -fresh-faced and citron,scattering the starsacross her yardlike wayward children.And under her bell jara wisp of cornsilk,caughtin the silver-spooned night,sighs and gives upits secretsto June's moon-fed laughter.
LonelyHe knew all the colors of lonelyand its complex sound -rain that nobody wantedcollecting in rusted bucketsand the desperate creak of stairsmoaning softly under slippers;the half cast lightthat cried under the doorand stretched its cat bones to breakingand the blue phonethat never stopped ringinglike his aunt's tired voice;lilacs bursting through the porchin a litany of hopegone southand grey fingerstaut and wiryrunning the length of curtainsas if looking for timeto bow and hang its head.And he felt them closeover his shoulderscrooked and angrylike storms at seaor half-bred prayers,and let them kiss his hard cheekswhere his tears collectedlike spoonsand tired starlings,and things that no onewould ever mentionagain.
My light died with youI breathe the lonely air you brought meI journey life's challenges aloneI did everything I could to believeThat you would come backBut I know, I will always be aloneFor the fact that you've lived in my darkest shadowHow can I ever tell myself that it's already impossible?You have done enough, you've suffered enough, endured hard enoughYou have done everything possible; I've done everything ever possibleStill it was not even possible\ Why? /Why is our life this way?The pain does not hurt anymore, it's is just a memory nowBut why do I have to remember it day by day?You're a part of me that is hard to eraseA shadow that follows me everydayMy light died with you
Melting A Frozen HeartMelting A Frozen HeartLaying here on a stone crypt,The moon watching over meAs I rest here icy and alone,A heart no longer that is warm,It's completely frozen and cold,Reaching all the way to my barren soul,You lay there my little oneEmbracing the bitter cold,Thinking that there is nothing leftThat you are all alone,Feel my touch on your creamy skin,Burning through the arctic cold thatNow encases your soul,What is this foreign feelingThat is trying to touch my heart?Reaching and searching around,Leaving so much warmth,Who is that strokes my skin,With such tender hands,What is this spark that ignites my soul within?Love my baby girl, that is what you feel,It will keep on finding you,And covering you until,Until your frozen heart meltsAnd you know you're not alone,I shall stay here with you,Never letting you go,How can you make such a promise,You dare to try and make me feel,Affecting this heart of mine,Once I believed in everlasting love,I o
I'm TiredIm tired of the deceitIm tired of the deceptionIm tired of the play on wordsI thought I was finally awakeDone with this feeling of tryingI wanted to try and I tried to wantBut like always I guess it was not enoughIm tired of being tiredSo Im done tryingUntil this feeling passesIm not trying anymoreIm simply doingWhether thats enough for youI no longer careIm tired of this
The Great WasteGermany could haveinvaded Poland.ButAustria had justposted drunken pics,Thirty seconds ago!So the Nazis shrank in empty clicksBefore a bluish glow.The Allies could havemet them.ButAmerica had justpoked Portugal,in a fit of virtual lust.So the two only wrote on each other's wallsAnd typing; crumbled to dust.Imagine the long yearsof history lost,to a whole new branchof opiate.But never mind about this.You are hardly listening at all.Because The Adolf Hitler:is eating a sandwich LOL.
Give Me the World, But Only If It's Made of GoldSeven years old and a sweat on my hand,sat next to the boy I knew.He said, he said, my carpet's the land,how do you spend your time?I said, I lay right in bed,listen to mother's stories, those of the zoo.He said, don't you pray?I asked what was that,He frowned, said don't you love God?My eyebrows drew close, I was unsurehow to answer. I love the zoo, I said,and that the animals can livein a box, without walls,and they can live close,without a bite or a squall,and the tigers let easy thebirds who don't fly,and elephants starein a monkey's eye.They all love themselves, the way I love you,my mommy loves the zoo.He said, his mother told himto teach those to know God, or elsethey'd go to hell.I asked him what was hell,he slapped on my arm,asked if I knew anything at all.Hell is where people go when they're bad,it's forever a place to torment the sad.And I told him, if God is so good,that doesn't seem fair.
Reason"The reason whybeautiful girlsare brokenis becausethe ugly girlsbroke them."-Lilium
FreefallI fell into lovewith astonishing ease.After years of believingthat one such as Icould never be caught,it encompassed my world.Always I had been the oneto hold my heart inviolate.Lovers were left graspingfor my ephemeral affections,while I danced away,my emotions untouched.All it took was a kiss,one gentle kiss that beliedthe devastation that would follow.Bereft, heart rent like tattered silk,when you danced away from me,your emotions untouched.And here I remainwondering if, like me,you will someday fallwith the same ease,and the same shatteringof your soul upon impact.