Stillborn

How many times I’ve seeped through ivory bed sheets,
making love to the flavor
of curiosity,
to unmade memories
while moons sullenly sleep.

Full-wings spread beneath.
I am safe, cradled in neon
comets, exploring my own armoured body.

Here, he does not resist!
He lunges mercilessly to position,
white flags his army. What can he do?
He is near extinction and
I am a gaseous cloud awaiting creation.

His skin tastes like metal leaking from Niagara.
We create salicylic time together.
We boil the blood of every mother combined
and burst the planets into alignment.
My pale body shifts from empty to
alive, swollen with revival

I shift back to the moment,
the dark air,
the damp night…

with aching fingers I outline his heavy, warm shadow,
my galaxy multiplies by zero,
vastness torn…

I am stillborn.

Like I Am

I did not touch yesterday, like I say I did.
My fingerprints are missing.
I lost them on a glass man,
wrapped my hands around

his whiskey sour, like I shouldn’t have.
He mingled with fire over
victory, like a beast gnawing
on my shoulder

I looked over his shadow like I owned him,
but daylight quickly ended, now
here I am. Fingertips dripping
off frozen glass,

as miserable as I planned it,
and here I still sit,

alone and empty-handed.

Away With The Night

You who are with me,
who ache with me, please,
lay still, hold your breathing –
we are sinking
we sink,

beneath wings of bad mothers,
through sad voices of home
our dead limbs fall off,
our bones sleep on their own.

You who are with me,
who are silent at night,
who separate stars, who burn with out light

hold on
hold on
to the hands of these words
we are sinking
we sink

through this very dry Earth.
God isn’t softening,
we are starved by disease,
by darkness, by deepness
of the valley’s between us.

You who are with me,
who ache life away, lay still,
hold your breathing,
hold on to your life,
we are sinking
we sink

away with the night!

The Sky Is Dead

The sky is dead.
A muddy sun aches in memory; an
unconscious fire, leaping
into dark waters.

Loneliness fades in deep congested
pressure, a million sea
tragedies
couldn’t lift her waste
from submergence.

Salty seaweed slowly crept down her throat,
entangling itself in soft
asphyxiation. Her beautiful body swelled
with the sea,
tides turned and turned over
purple lips in a green dress,
spitting her raw
meat shell
out into silver moon beams.

The wind stalled after striking
her cold cheek. Shiftless.
Idle in a sodden night,
offering nothing more for
life
to feed on.

So, life takes her flesh,
sacrifices her meat to
micro bacteria,
burning her bones into the
sand;

a fossil of destitution.

 

The Painted Lady

From the tip-top
of the towering
fortress,

where productions
remain silent but still produce,

where every rehearsed act
plays on, as if
unrehearsed.

Nobody would know the difference unless
they were watching
from the tip-top
of the towering
fortress,

the place that the universe bends for,
dances for,
multiplies for.

Once, a painted woman sat upon
the tower,
supreme and hungry,
watching
different casts perform…

her muse!

She was born with a gift.
An Eye!
A Wandering Eye!
At her command, her left eye would jump
out of its socket
on hunt
as the hungry painted woman
wished.

The Eye knew not the exact
silage, but
there were markings,
specifics, that the Eye knew to watch for.

The painted woman waited,
high in the clouds,
imposing on conversation
between wind
and
weather….
waiting.

Soon, her Wandering Eye would
return
with her meal –

soldiers, fighters,
carpenters,
shaman,

each had a purpose.

The painted woman would accept her
prey, swallowing them completely
in to
herself,
writhing them in and out of consumption,
pulling them deep into
digestion, her stomach
aching for more,
more, more!

She touched
and kissed
and drooled on
each of their gifts
using each
as her very own until
she was
spent.

Then, she would take her lust-probing eye and
retire,
leaving nothing of
her pillage behind!!

A snake,
overflowing
with lasciviousness!

One day, the brushed lady
was brought a tender
slice of
musician, with sad,
blue diamonds sparkling so bright
that when she saw her reflection
in them,
her left gift, was
immediately calcified,
a vegetable!
Useless!

She barely noticed!

They stood together at the tip-top
of the towering fortress,
oblivious to
acts,
actors,
and
actresses.

All the muse she needed stood
beside her, with a box of suffering chocolates
and rust roses,

begging
her
for consumption! On his knees he
pleaded for
use!

Baffled by his strange request, she conformed to
habit.

The painted woman accepted her
prey, swallowing him completely
in,
writhing his body in and out of her consumption,
pulling him deep, deeper into
digestion, her stomach
aching for more,
more, more!

She touched his gifts,
gently kissed his gifts
caressed each gift as if it were her own
until
the bewitching young
musician was spent, sleeping inside her body.

This had never happened before.
She knew “withdraw”
not “succumb”.
How dare he retire without her!
Leaving her here,
alone,
on the tip-top of a towering
fortress without
her only friend,

her tool!
She panicked when the script
started
in the world below. Its silence
sounded different
somehow.
Heartsick.

At that moment, the lady,
standing at the tip-top of the towering fortress
flung herself
from the security of the towers’ height,
diving to join
the world below!

Marinated Chops

Oh, God!

I woke up sizzling!
Left rear range,

chopped up,
marinated and lubricated,

giant
hands of circumstance
thrashing
me around gridiron with prickly
fingered sticks,

boneless.

Without hands to reach out
to the other pieces
frying,
roasting inches away from me.

Skinless.
Heartless.
Helpless.
Hopeless.

Left lonely with chunks of
thick bloody substance that
I was delivered with,

the delicate meat
that
made me whole,

without a mouth to
vocalize
my own company.

I miss them already!

The heat is getting heavy, I have
been left
simmering
since
sun progression – damn light!

Waking me up
to this!

 

Severance and Unification – (Adult Content)

* This post could be disturbing and difficult or offensive to some readers..it contains adult material and paints a disturbing image, please don’t read if you are sensitive to adult material.

I forked my eyeballs
from their sockets before
the gang
banged
away

at my fourteen aged
bones

for men
bones are not like fine
aged wine

my eyeballs bounced
around with
the pounding
hounding
hard-ons

slippery hours
later
my pig pudding covered
bones
laid to rest

while
my severed eyeballs
suffered alone
with what they had seen.

The Castle

Back in the distance, just past “far-enough”,
a stone-cold castle stands proud and alone.

A few years back
the castle
was a warm home. The doorway smiled and
welcomed home family, the windows were
always bright-eyed – lighting up the insides with the
soft rays of the sun. People tended to the needs of the house while
small children ran outside
the castle laughing and playing,
the castle kept an eye on them and
laughed merrily along.

War broke out one day, amongst the people in
the home. The castle hid the children in closets, protection
from the screams of the people on
the other side of the walls.
The people were rigid and stuck in
a rage of powerful fear. They kicked at the castle, took hammers to the walls, and
ripped the coverings that closed the castles’ glass eyes at night.

After that day, the home was never the same.
The castle couldn’t smile and the children
didn’t play.
The people didn’t smile. They stopped tending to the
castle and made themselves sorely busy.
The people removed things, bit-by-bit. They barely spoke
to each other, they didn’t even notice the
somber castle.

It was early winter, dark and windy. Colder
than usual. The castle was anticipating the return of the
people to start a fire and warm up it’s stones, but the people
did not return. The castle waited. It waited through the fall of the
leaves, through the icicles and frozen pond, through the light rain that
fertilized the once abundant land….but the
people did not return.

They must have took something very precious
because the castle was never the same. It will not smile, or
brighten the inside with light anymore. It is empty and cold.
It locked up it’s doors and just stands, proud and alone.