apollo

The plaid experience of a cat’s ninth life,
concluding nothing: the purple crayon box

was either a blue or red facsimile of my 
uncle’s barn past the dyke, the pond,

the field of dumb flowers, maples 
and crows pecking at the floodgates

above a yellow ditch of limestone
that keeps itself nearly parallel

to the two-headed fence of cattle wire,
which stretches out for this parable;

meanwhile, facing the plaid stain 
of myself among Hieronymus’s

foolish yolk of vox-mouthed louts 
and yodelers; feeling as bogus,

knotted brown and heavy as a stilt-legged dug-

out or dumbbell beneath the matador’s hood.

Oh how is that not sensitive? 
Oh that crooked yellow stump

again (?) I wonder who tripped over the gumball first, 
blazing through the helium warmth–among the catch

weeds and goosegrass. Like a little mustard 
seed or red engine red that couldn’t stop

toking past the pink mouth of the mound that Watt 
stepped off towards his own glassy skull of Gol-

gotha. It happens all the time, whistling for 
an attic’s length of rope; the trigger’s acquittal

of a banjo snaking through its revolving door 
of strychnine: then the kind glass of milk, ending

a cat’s ninth life; that while, towards the crowded sunset, 
you’re still thumbing your nose, on one of god’s donkeys.

 eh_thursday, March 16. y'17

Bitter syringes bite my ass

I am the insane little lass that sings to no one’s delight

Creatures cling to my lapels

Yes lapels

Lap dance first class train ride to hell

Snake shine shoes for the rain that fell down among my eyelashes

Flat tire shoe borne illness for none listless souls mongering for another chance

But we are all grave robbers standing up for no one’s cause

This is our flaw

One antique necklace to strangle me

One diamond ring without the promise of forever

I am unwed and widowed by the fortunes of feathers

Scrape the dish into the sink

I am beginning to think that medication is the right thing

Cures curating for my sanity

One famous painting to bring the public’s eye

Who would like to own bliss

Hang it on their wall

I cannot say I am impressed

The stroke meant nothing at all

Until I could not move my left arm

Then all fell away

And I heard your music play.

The gravestones line the yard    corpses hidden from the public’s eyes.

One man is dust in the lid, gravel in the eye, hidden from greedy fingers and I wait

Hoping for another moment with her

Hoping for one more smile

I cannot contain this feeling any longer

The tears do not fall but there is no anger only regret

Regret is the remittance of the few   who lick their wounds   when the sun doesn’t shine down

And I admit I am not the few who lick but am the majority of live to wait

For the door to open upon my own fate

Damn it all to heaven’s gate

Go go regret before it’s too late

And the crows scream murder

Murder.  I cannot comprehend this second hand grasp for beauty

She was so young

With a fucked up face    one eye rearranged to fit place

Braces on her teeth to catch the rapid space

This is death  I knew it not until this moment

I have forgotten the punch line in this sea of shame

I remember her name and face but could I claim to know her heart’s beat

Could I claim to have been a confidant

Ignore once ignore twice forget the thought

Did I betray the one I loved

Murder on the high I see nothing   gravel in my eye

Please withhold the casket so I cannot throw my body in

This is the beginning of good bye

Was there ever love between us or only granite skies

She has left me behind

She has left me behind.

Unbowdlerized (beware)

Razor-sharp fingernails scrape layers of flesh from eyelids
Splaying them eternally open
Can't unsee what's been seen
Can't unhear the sounds
Or unsmell the odor that rots in nostrils, infecting every rose
There's no stopping when they all stink the same
Can't undo, can't undo
Safety in bile where nightmares are birthed in reality,
In places that fester like the remnants of the lids that blinded
Bleach doesn't clean untruths
Fire doesn't burn hot enough to mask pain
Blisters seem like hope
Hope to heal
Hope to resemble something familiar
Peeling skin back with teeth
Wishing for them to bleed
When scalding tubfulls try to cleanse
the grime that sludges through a broken mind
Attached to a heart mindlessly lashed in the shame of

Love

Power of SHE

Thick skin falls in pieces
To reveal a molten liquid center
A beauty never gazed upon by another
A glow of heat and pain and ...love
Hidden from prying eyes
Kept safe from strangers and "loved ones" alike
Permanent fists grip tightly
As the center boils hot upon its release
And a trickle becomes a flood
In the right hands...

In the right heart
The stiff grip loosens
And new skin, soft and supple
Replaces the old
Stronger than one could have imagined
Sweeter than one could hope
A butterfly against the odds
And a struggle ends in .....love

Grass and Concrete

A quiet life
A country life
Where the grass sways in the breeze
And the hues of green signify the beginning of balmy nights
A far cry from the city
Gone are the endless vibrant lights
Gone are the 2 a.m. trips across town just because they make the best doughnuts
In this place of air almost too clean to breathe
They stroll
A traffic jam is four cars at a stop sign
Battling rules of the road with polite hat tips of "you go first"
Fast feet and hot dog carts
Italian ices on every corner
Fifty-six blocks to a destination
A world of choices
A billion footprints at a time
Stoplight crowds of sneakers and pantyhose
Everyone is invisible and naked at once
The green haired freak and the business man
The limos and the gypsy cabs
The excitement only felt in a world of possibilities
The difference between pick up trucks and bike messengers
A hundred miles for supplies
Or fifty-six blocks of everything under the sun
Soot filled pores and too much traffic
Street sounds to sleep by and a world of opportunities
Crickets and junebugs
The world closes at eight
Nightlife turns into Wal-Mart and Taco Bell
The slow pace of growing grass
The warmth of a winterless Summer
Wishing for a trip across town at 2 a.m. just because they make the best doughnuts

4/25/15

in the tunnel at the end of the day

The dark hole that pours out people
Like a gravity defying waterfall
Had a heartbeat that day
Barely audible on the surface
Fighting rush hour traffic to get in
Where the world was getting out
Lured deeper underground
By the echo of a soul
Walking past the platform
Drawn to the rhythm
Like only those whose minds hear in color can be
It grew louder, defiant
Begging to be heard over the stomping herd of human cattle
Yet, whispering its song through the veins of all who cared to listen
Against the wall
Out of the way, almost unseen
There on a milk crate
With a bucket and a stick
Sat a boy with worn out sneakers
The deep sound of air caught in a drum
The high pitch of a stick on the edge
The melodious rise and fall
Of fingers and palms on the smooth surface
Garbage, an old used five gallon bucket
A twig and broken milk crate
Still, in this tunnel sat a boy
Whose heartbeat echoed in the corridor
The only time I ever gladly missed a train

4/25/15

in the tunnel at the end of the day

If a Kiss Is Just a Kiss, You're Doing It Wrong

There in the closeness
A hairs breadth away seems a million light-years
The sweetest air fills lungs in hurried breaths
A quickened heartbeat drowns out the world
The mind twists and sways in thoughts that soon become a blur
Melded into emotion, into heat
And time stands still

Drawn like magnets to fill the gap
That electric blue spark lingers behind a gaze
Current runs high
Feeling the blood rushing through the smallest veins
Every cell electrified, every hair on end
The weakening of unwanted defenses
That moment the body and soul acquiesce
And time stands still

In the stroke of a cheek
The almost intangible sensation of gliding on smoke
Rising as the embers burn from within
And each breath fans the flames
Proximity feeds passion
As time stands still

The past, erased methodically, deliberately
For there is only this
This birthing of eternity
This moment when the tentative brushing of lips
Burns into soulful coalescence
This one reality
This moment
When time stands still

If a Kiss Is Just a Kiss, You're Doing It Wrong

The ice of never never land creates a wall to keep the foreigners out

From heaven

A cave for a snow man

Two coal eyes and a frostbitten smile

And just as one would think he melts God melts in my hands

The mirage of salvation shimmers on the edge of my sanity

And am I speaking with angels or demons

Or snowmen?

The air freight flew out of sight then reappeared

As children are reared to believe that the earth is round

I am sorry flat        bread to feed pigeons

Who can say they worship the solar globe

When all that glitters is gold   I am worshiped so I am told

Me me me

The source of pleasure and comradery

The simplest things in life are never free

And I kick the guts out of the snowman and bury myself inside

Likening to the lint in the corners of God’s wily black eyes.

Citric Acid Erodes Teeth.

Bone braces

for a corpse

would not

work.

One long black hair

on my chin

reminds me

my heart beats

today.

Steve likes anal sex

but only with men

otherwise he is confused.

I cannot emphasize enough

how important it is

to brush your teeth.

Here lies a lonely heart
And here it was besought
Too acquiescent to question
Too obstinate to acquiesce
Neither foolish, nor naive
The heart endeavors
Tattered in the process
Tentative in its gifts
With but one request
Yet, in its stead
was found thoughtless untruths
Holding fast to words spoken
Despite the fact the truth remains unhidden
Prefer honest consequences to deceit
Regardless how pale in color

Peruse more of my poetry@  http://hellopoetry.com/prttybrd/

Cracked, depleted and downright broken
Left in the lurch by sweet, sweet lies
Knowing one can't, but must...still
Shadowed thoughts and twisted memories
Alone together and together alone
Days in shades of a bruised ego
Nights in darkened yesterdays
Remembered only in the mind's eye
By letting go, it will cease to exist
Longing to continue where the beauty is laid to rest

thoughts of joy infused my dreams.  despite what life had taught me.  once gray, had changed in hue, and somehow, I believed.  perhaps I just wanted to believe.  the possibility enticed me.  the hope that the claims were real.  nothing forced, nothing false. alas, the excitement was short lived.  as with most things, the gray has returned as black.

Trust has been broken
Through neglect, if not through lies
Final lesson learned

Revivified

How deep the depths to which you have touched me

Places that laid waiting in shadows, drowning in stagnant air

You have pulled up the blinds and opened a window

Lighting each corner, each crack that had only been accessible to the darkest fog

You have quietly healed what I had long forgotten was broken