Saturday, July 10, 2010

past lives

where does the head go
not where its told to
over and over
breaking the rules
broken heart

open and closed
where does the head go
favorite places
where does the heart go
always be around
broken head

what can i tell you
not what i'm told to
over and over
breaking the promises
broken ego

started and finished
where does the heart go
away from strangers
where does the head go
old forgotten places
broken heart

how the freedom of flight in black night screams so perfectly out of the folds in each crease of the blanket of stars reaching its silken arms above me and stretching until it meets with all four corners of the sea below me, my eyes peeled wide open, mouth like a sailor, how many sirens could sing me to sleep? on a stage, in the ceiling, peeling out of a wrapper, unfurling like some wild apparition of a song i had heard once before in the throes of my youth, but the size of it is all too large and it wraps those silken arms around me, then bends itself inwards until i'm inside out and every single word is the most pristine sound. falling like rain, two yellow lines of a highway twisting upon the slate gray surface like a snake, coiling at the foot of a mirror, on the rooftops, in the walls, ripping out of an envelope, unwinding as if it were propelled by the nature of grace itself, in a perfectly calculated motion, and the clouds begin to rattle as the city takes the plunge into the siren's open hands...hands like an features, black and white, like a piano, slowly regaining color...into red mouth, chalk skin, pupils like the flash of a raven's wing, and my twig legs, planted firmly in the earth...

you can take your pills, but me, i'll take the open sky

Oh! special places and the ever-present
pretentious faces
you are, at times
one and the same.

I can smell it as soon as it
begins to spoil.
forgotten meat, long left alone
those ever-present pretentious faces.

you are not the only one
to feel so alone
so leave me alone

words can feel so invalid and suspicious
suspicions arise at the words i despise
three thousand hits hit all at once
a taste of oblivion, then its done
ten thousand come downs
too many interruptions to reconsider
what it once was at the start
so i turn around
hits in reverse, save the last for the first
words can feel so impolite
and freedom lies in the power of flight
black night
the perfect come down
my dear last days as the globe spins quick
words sometimes they make me sick
with every intention comes the dawn
daybreak in my fragile mind
counting now from time to time
every eggshell i step on seems to crack
three thousand hits
hit like a kiss
and your lips
open ended answers, the distraction
i missed
with every feeble attempt at this


saw you in the widening corner

all your angles were turning obtuse

though i tried to stop all of the bleeding

it was simply a bit too profuse

cat and mouse

i'd like to play all day

you see you've only shown me

just what i had expected.

cat and mouse games are child's play

i'd like to think that we are

far much older-

that we've outgrown such follies




(don't waste all of your strings)

me, the end

all the green

and your casual lack of concern

brings the bottom fairly close

to all that sits above

i just had to show my utmost care

in giving you what you deserve

telephone calls just make it


yesterday said that the

time wasn't right


maybe i'm over being loyal

maybe you can't hold

my ever-waning attentinon

its obvious, though

that the limit's been burned

me, the end

all that green

and your casual lack of concern

i can't make up my mind

once i have what i've

always wanted

i just toss it back

into the green

All My Friends Are Killers.

sometimes I think that every new party’s gonna save me

sitting in the bath when the bouncer calls, he asks me

where’d you run off to last weekend

are you gonna come tonight

love makes me sick so I wonder why they wanna touch me

my hands bloody red like the

rings around my eyes

the sun hates the sky so give me every last drop ‘til it comes

.. ..

all my friends are killers

.. ..

all my lovers are fake, they just want to own me

and stick their hands up my shirt, unbutton my pants and

have their way

all my boyfriends aren’t there

put the cash on the counter and buy me, bit by bit

it doesn’t work, love makes me sick

.. ..

and those lines cut up on the counter top aren’t even real drugs

all the drugs were done years ago

there’s none left, my arms are empty like the

weight of my head

the water is warm and my legs are so white

his voice on the phone makes me laugh like a little girl

or a woman with a gun up her skirt

.. ..

all my days are sedatives

.. ..

the ingredients aren’t right, they just form a clot

I couldn’t admit that he broke my heart

now every time they try to get inside me it simply forms a wedge

between my thighs and the door

all my lovers wanna stick their knife in me

when I say no they tell me it makes them want it more

they say I should just lay down

and try to take it like a man

end up

bleeding out

.. ..

there’s exceptions to the golden rules

drank until I couldn’t talk and added some

fast food and smoke,

in the earliest morning the moon swings on its noose, high

the bouncer wore a silver suit-

every new party’s gonna save me

all my lovers make me wanna die

all my dreams are lucid ones

.. ..

the static’s a crime

every face is a new one, you’re perfect

my legs spread open wide

the first time it ends is the next since the last

and now this is the part in the sex where I laugh

each bartender has a crooked smile

your fur coat reminds of me running fast

I’m on my couch in oblivion just wishing that

he was pushing me

.. ..

in the house its not safe

on the street its okay

freedom’s so big that it

makes me come


is it the reason that i'm home?
how many places could i have
called home
and the very thing that is the
sense of home
could that be you?

there were so many
making up the fibers of my
roads and highways that we
drove so many times
i've gone there before

and empty old times i recognize
still the same presence on the block
how pretend
i could pretend i'm pretty
while i sit with the window
rolled down
pretty is always the perfect fake
pretty is their intentional fate

why would you spend your time looking for needles
just one time could be the only time left you just
avoid the twist of fate and let the time eat your days eat the time


how many times can acid be the answer

its so much easier to just have someone do it for you
but what if someone else says that its time for you to learn

it is the alternate
so much time. slow glow
i follow the trails of color
how many individual strands?
so many immaculate
this could be the catharsis
i feel it to be so
compound images lead us
to the center of a circle
how perfect the times
there is something i love
about sugar

black pools distract me from daylight
too many nights i have spent in disguise
and the times that i knew it was done
are the ones i so readily hide

its my skin i'm not willing to part with
each pore as a
piece of a
whole and

your eyes!
pierce right through
pin me down like a
bent in all
kinds of directions

you hit all at once
its such fun
how the force knocks me down

how those black pools distract me from daylight
eyeing me through the
casual dawn
the blank day



ten thousand times
over and again
never shallow
sometimes it just
eats me alive
open and mellow
cancer forlorn
today you might
swallow me whole
pretty in tangles
knots in the strands
maybe we should
tie the loose ends
until the next
big thing begins
kill the old news

open and close
my black eyes
what a benign
disease it is
what a design
to reckon with

lace stockings
stick legs
quality time

everything stops
where i saw the beginning
there now is a hole

open minded
closed eyes
waste of time

i've been awake
since sleep ran away
leaving a stain