Allusion

Emoti-cope like a lump in throat,
with misanthropic feelers pulling wit from charm and icing the pawns,
for chess or hurling at charity events, the strands curling, hair like fringe and chaotic linger, on and on.

Get over yourself, or maybe she added an f word somewhere before, I can’t remember- it all gets hazy,
after red clears my head and the clouds blow straight up like mushrooms.
Safe all along, the dying crowds, now down, worshipping the wrong ones.

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Black Out The Sky

We make marvelous ornaments- here, the ground level for beauty and commerce, eating each other’s will.
The green, stretched without any indifference, the ends and the means battling it out for supremacy.
Somewhere atop a sky rise reflected the sunlit sky back in its own space- reveling the mist, globe like and super-dome to round up all the weak and sick.
The malevolent crowds, CEO’s, shuffling into the situation room, executing every last heart and mind and perforating the globe into the sky, blacking out the sun, leaving the children to the scraps, fodder for the recessed masses.

In a Vaccum

Tap the hole, the concrete, see it expand,
spider veins and cracking wise,
so watered down over time.
She left you here for good, be thankful you can still crawl,
walls crumble around; and the wind whips your torso into the incoming squall.
Your torrential mist, tight fisted until the bitter end– and limbs dangling at the edge.
The imminent rush, dour exchange and the leftovers, residual to what’s in my head.
I’ll escape with my life and you can keep what’s left.

Both Sides

“What can I do to save my friends from the same things that still try and destroy me?” – Tim

Seeing red, the devil in the details,
so widespread,
and I can see you bleeding from here.
You’re teetering on the fence:
the one side- a sewage drain, blackened stains, sulfuric air,
fallen in, knee deep & stuck,
corralled into the waiting cypher, where no one visits and nobody cares– no one that hasn’t already put up with enough.
On the other side, the grass looks plush,
clover underfoot, green/lush,
a spectacle; the propensity for charm,
the taller stalks of mint, backwashed into the soil.
Fresh scents, crushing the memory of pungent elixir,
weeping into the air,
lost it’s charm long before you ever got there.
Far too late to turn back now,
churns your heavy heart, aching limbs;
towards that insurmountable gape.

We never truly get there, we just keep… walking–
towards the sun, no longer your enemy;
towards the light, into something better than ‘right’,
that place you started and quickly devolved,
the awaiting fallout, pond scum and wet brain…
no family to absorb your sick,
your lonely– your pathetic reach for one more drink.
Knowing well, you chose the side where things don’t go to die.
The devil patiently waiting for his turn… as you turn your back.

Pulse

Thinking of us, a lone indelible moment when our souls touched, running the line from our hands into spines, tingle and neurons replacing neurotic, endorphins tripping over themselves to the neck and settling somewhere in our motionless hearts, four chamber reaction, static extraction and every nerve and impulse bursting at the seams.

Counting Daylight

The need for you, us… lust
and to deny human touch.
Where were you all those years?
I gave up.
My head scanned for you, imminent souls colliding,
physical yearning, and nothing left to deny me.
Nothing special here,
I saved my guts to stretch
out on your bed,
just to hold the back of your head,
your neck clamped in my vice grip fingers.
Weigh me down and pinned inside your spare, fervent thighs,
so tightly wound, box me in,
make the sheets tremor and writhe.
Left to the mercy of night, or anytime the urge
takes you from prostrate,
to legs and waist,
coiling in the sheets where I can find your warm spots,
wasted not– but taken fully in stride,
and grappled flesh, impossible to hide.
Never lost on a man, who cannot adore you enough.
Counting the digital numbers, seconds, and texts;
all drawn out in hours, not breaths
… Until the next moment we touch.

Empower

Ostracized, Scapegoat, Failure, Pariah,
live your life or you’ll die here.
You got your claws in me
or maybe it’s the other way around.
The scratches, emblematic of a lost cause,
now you’re grounded.
No one sees it but me.
Your will is so much stronger than mine,
but that got us in trouble plenty of times.

Just remove yourself from yourself,
get back to the world of living things
Take it back by any means.
Leave the view over shoulder.
Rear view and scenery,
the only life we knew.