Back to nought, an empty barrel for a frame
an additive identity for a familar existence
drifting aimlessly in the maddening sea
on a shore that waves lonely a dance back and forth
with a disparaging sequestration, a stumbling knot of nobody
if only zero plus something equaled an upheaval from the
nothing not, a step from annihilation, a small remedy for the forlorn past.
Tag: Poem
Ghost
It’s terrible being alone when what you want, the one you want, doesn’t want you.
It’s terrible being alone when all you’re stuck on is the last time you saw her dance
dreamy, she makes you laugh when nothing does anymore, and your shoulders are relaxed.
It’s terrible being alone when you have to wait in line for the one thing that makes you forget.
It’s terrible being alone as you write about your ghost, as hope with its glory pines away.
Electric
The galaxy
filled with stars
shooting firecrackers
fleeting exuberance
the aftermath of a thunder
enlightening a skeleton.
Las Vegas
Las Vegas says she’s too afraid, too afraid
my dangerous touch on her delicate skin
made up with precaution, made up of rules to bend
because I ain’t got nothin to lose but the end
Las Vegas says she’s needing someone stable
yet she’s at my ramshackle table with those hungry eyes
with those sweet lips that I brush so, so gently
tellin me I’m not the one oh Las Vegas
tellin me there’s no wedding moans
behind doors that only just groans
she’ll leave me, leave me suddenly
my bed early in the dawn will howl for her trace
my danger, my dangerous love
recking reckless will grieve over her midnight kiss.
Love Laws
Can you forget the love laws
and for one night feel the ache
in our curves? You’ll show me where
it hurts the most. Could you forget
about your tongue harnessed
in the Reason of the world? It draws
a rigid line our bodies refuse to bend to.
We’d forget how to construct a sentence
and listen to what is said in a moan
resonating in our eyes, lips, hands
from the pit of our stomachs; speak
a new nonsense. In a moment
we’d lose ourselves in a sound,
like that night, during awkward small talk
desire lingered in the space where
you and I begun. Knowing how to
hold each other, we danced.
We didn’t have anything
but skin, the salt from our eyes
the sadness in a kiss.
Love Song #3
anticipation is your smell everywhere
even in the unescapable stench of my dungeon
the prison of my mind of meaningless malodorous
function sweats an immutable sterile sink
in my dungeon, but I’ve been painting new colors
over the mod prints, I drew a protrait of you smiling in crayola.
anticipation is wanting a beautiful idea to stroke you gently like the rising sun
being carried by a choir of her voice, magically you land me softly at my destination…
Come Cover Me
With your joy.
With your pain.
With your laugther.
With your tears.
With your voice.
With your mouth.
With your hands.
With your body.
With your…
I’m lost in what I can’t have
lost in wanting you
Wanting your laughter
to echo through my vertebrae.
Wanting your mouth to sew against mine.
Wanting your voice to sing my name.
Love Song
Am I only treasure you can collect by accident
for those rainy days when there’s nothing to do
so you can recollect a time when you were crazy
driving 90 on a 30 stretch, not even slowing down
for speed bumps, you’re a drive by, a killing with no exit.
My eyes light up when it sees your name
I want to sing when I hear your melody
walking through my burning thoroughfare
lights me up when you do anything.
The Frolic
I’ve lost my place in this thunder
ringing clear what I have
haven’t gained, with this losing war
I’ve won something.
I’ve lost my place in this thunder
that tragic lightening struck
paper-clipping my worth together.
I need an exorcism done
to baptized my worried hands together
and into a pit of strangers I’d dive
un-bruised by bravado’s curses
I’d dive into circumstanced tidal wave
I the interpellator
lose
myself
I hail i
lose
this champion.
The Pessimistic Corona Ad
Billboard apparitions that might just come true
soon enough
painkillers will wean
the barely noticeable
yesterday with its nausea
forgetting how to walk
withdrawn flowers
will set like the sun
soon enough
Jesus won’t be
the only holy one
the Devil’s company
un-pleasurable
masturbating
will never make
you come again
soon enough
nothing to choose from
nothing to tell
losing all the spit
in your mouth
soon enough
you’ll become
as the many
faceless mimes
configured bodies
shuffling in a deck
confabulated shadows
in a fish-market
soon enough
someone will call for rain
and you won’t have an umbrella.
Fetish Breed
She wants to genetically engineer her experience
so she can have genie expression kids with big curly hair.
A man, a tall black man with light eyes is her worship
I want a black man with light eyes she says
because they make great babies.
I want a white man with blue eyes
so my kids can look the way I want them too
milk all those treacherous paths written on my skin.
Quiet
And listen to the silence that is life
And like most things it is fleeting
And watch you fade beneath me
And you slipped away like things
And they are all never lasting
And it was in this moment of orgasm
And never lasting, I learned how to live.
Games
Stole all of me
like a thief is the knight
killing the Queen of diamonds
And you place your flush
like I was playing with you
with your feelings called a fluff
and dance around with a wall of arms…’
but I’m tired of feeling the tiger’s heart
I’m tired of the open of my open heart
that has burned me for too long
Luddite
Know what it means before presenting yourself as one.
No! Luddite isn’t some fancy glasses with awkwardness.
Luddite means you shouldn’t even be reading this right now.
More than a trendy term to drop into circles
oh I’m a Luddite writer
well, we’re all writers
all of us
Luddite or not!
Yeah I know what a type is, so what
I saw what a typewriter looks like
and I saw its alphabets
and I used many of its letters.
Do you really romanticize over the lost of letters
like real letters that you get from a pigeon
because really the pigeons are out of work
and no one demands a strong letter anymore.
I was brought up on T.V.
Does that scare you? It should if you’re a Luddite
I write on a computer, so I can easily escape
and start over
If you’re a pure Luddite it’s either telling of where you’ve grown up or your age
which one would you like to be the predicate of?
Words fight as they come and go
but this one bothers me the most
Luddite:
19C protester against technology: a worker who was involved in protests in the United Kingdom in the 1810s against new factory methods of production and who favored traditional methods of work.
A Jesus Birthday
At the closing of tonight
I’ll sit painstakingly reminiscing.
Reminisce over saying goodbye
then dance alone again.
My home with those many walls
keeping me still, smelling the strong aroma
my favorite dish, beef stew marinating
as the lady laboring over the stovetop cares for
making it all the better, this has been removed for
just a room filled with bitter cold things.
Reminiscing over the place that once was
still measuring the range of her laughter, and the saddness
that is like milestones, as they carted me away to the institution.
Reminisce over the fear and devastation, I found staring back at me
in those brown pools of continuous wonderings, should I even be taking this on?
Reminisce over the appearance of truth
and the presence, oh but a stagnation, a straggling grip of desperation
where there aren’t any days drenched with tortured love songs.
But I was getting better at seeing the light. Too late…
Shouldn’t I’ve known this storm was coming?
Since, they say 33 is the year of the crisis, where the unexpected occurs
except no one told me, as I walked into the eye of a hurricane.
Looks inside a Skeleton
Save Yourself Life Jacket
How can I feel thank-ful-ness self preservation, something I should have
while I’ve arrived at survival and you didn’t? learned, been aware of by the time I was teething
How can I move pass the memory especially while I’ve absorbed the ugliness
when we both were gasping for air? breathing out its dead, its shivering debris.
They never say to give up your oxygen mask As a child, you’re never allowed a say
in fact they strongly advise you against it. unless you have a good law guardian:
Before attempting anything I must understand directions
you must first be breathing. and consider how cruel self preservation
can be.
But then, once I’ve put my oxygen mask on It is like while one is drowning and
and you’re left stranded for air, I watch you try to speak without a thought, you reach for
I watch you escape into the open, into oblivion slapping for anything afloat, and
I fight and scream for you to stay with me. then grab on,
push, push, push down for air,
for life.
Ode to the Infinite Burn
To forget, oh to forget, have to, have to
have never touched your open hearth
where luminosity soaks and then soars.
Watch the fire, watch, watch the fire ignite
watch it ablaze and crack, cheat, cheat
cheating my umbra with orange cinders
blue sparks full of auspicious heights
then dies, dies, dies, it does
in languorous pace, unmindful
of the fingertips it singed, hurts me so
to forget, oh to forget.
Attachment is Such a Hard Thing to Undo.
No more inquisitive brown eyes
to stare into and lose myself.
No more little ears to measure.
No more love songs to sing, because no one is listening.
No more dimpled smiles.
No more of her laughter, grabbing my attention.
No more flippers for feet
with flipper covers reaching to her knees.
No more secret language to make up
and joke about amongst ourselves.
No more soft kisses to have in the morning
waking me up from my slumber.
No more gentle caress of the middle of my back.
No more love to make during the late hours.
No more dreams to have of little ones playing in our backyard.
No more dreams to have of us growing together.
No more recipies to try.
No more spoons to lick.
No more you to teach me things.
No more coozied drunken debates.
No more you to admire naked in the sunlight.
No more you to watch sleep in the moonlight.
No more you to come home to.
No more home to come to.
No more time.
No more love.
Cuckoo
The catalyst came on his big white horse
and told my lover that I was a fool
a fool for letting you go alone for so long
a fool for letting you dine with such prospects
and then believe of none adventure
the mocking birds sing a loud moan
upon discovery the cuckold will remember
all the things a fool should already know
Dirty Linens
I lay in this mess that is memory
tangled in the mistiness of morning
the comforters from last year
ruined by the color of reminiscing
all the things missed, collecting in a bundle.
With each cycle as yellow sweats
on the submarine eye glass, the t-shirt
with the smell of her arm-pits, spins
360 at the 24-hour all you can clean.
I realize how lonely I’ve become.
And I’m not relieved by possibilities
whispering promises like crickets
while her laughter fades
in this room’s blue-black ear.
COCOYEA 
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