untitled number 6

on faces
and paper
drawing stories
that few want to hear

life labored in a loop
set to repeat at certain speeds
and settled in ceded destinations
a figure eight formed in infinity
diagonally distinguished
and fueled with mornings
full of black coffee
pornography, cigarettes and memories

riding random texts
the past grips my heart
like cheap plastic wrap
so i wait for
slick poetry
unbidden and hidden
more likely sick poetry
writing in vain and overridden
it’s my only weapon
to entertain
seeking to impress
or was it depress
hearts and minds constrained

like pinpoints of
an infinite and
indefinite universe
catatonic cells
grey dog souls

magnificently fragile
and written like a superstar in exile
we are treated
as disposable people
such a simple dismissal
and painful description
of what might have been
hearts and minds
melted and melded
by consumption
how many nights must pass
remembering a life i should forget
with wine under white candles
and the caress of empathetic cats

held in
romantic prayer
loved by
a deceiving player
worlds and wounds apart
no feeling today
brain dead and empty
but the quiet is good

oh stranger
once an enigmatic lover
now cast to the role
of old mentor
converted from a
classical whore
to a calculated hermit

hump day
feels more like
dump day
in the bedroom
in the bathroom
in the office
or in the car
it makes no difference
today is no day
for manifestation
just dusty spring words
that can’t be
strung together
and i’m strung out
on intellectual boredom

good advice
badly played
hair down long and oily
and no response
to this elegant crusade

has it been
two months already
it feels like yesterday
it’s hard to forget
the shape of you
timeless and beautiful
gone now, helpless and blue
such a violent rapture
that set me to
wandering roads of weakness
and half hearted discovery
searching for clues
that would lead to a clean break
reaching beyond
living a life
that revolves around
virtual media

don’t give up, just give in
for a day or a year
almost balanced
yet distracted by cats
and headlines of impending doom
there’s just no more room
for disinformation
passively fighting
an internal exclamation
to color the soul grey
acceptable amalgamation
indefinite approximation

i’m ready for something more
so gather the hermits and whores
for sadistic games
played like
ghostly violins in flames
weeks of springtime rain
under a noonday moon
there are
reticent beasts
stirring in my soul
matched perfectly
for the longevity
of love
passion beyond flesh
one day you’ll see
how these two souls
were meant to be free



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