Poetry

Sixty days to slow the spread
Sixty nights to mourn the dead
The world is overcome with dread
While time marches on.

With no commitments to obey
Home is the prison of the day
The mind is left to gnaw away
As time marches on.

Abusers reign with fists and rape
Their victims now have no escape
Society is losing shape
As time marches on.

The internet explodes with fear
While media is insincere
Saving accounts disappear
As time marches on.

“Trump is an abusive clown!”
“Bill Gates wants chips to track us down!”
“China needs to burn and drown!”
The hatred marches on.

Stuck at home inside their brains
The masses need someone to blame
It’s safer than to face their pain
The anger marches on.

To sit alone and contemplate
Reminds a person of their fate
All will soon disintegrate
As time marches on.

So let us protest
Let us fight
Let us blame someone tonight!
Let us fear
Let us win
The wounded love the taste of sin
To be alone
To be alive
“At least it wasn’t me who died!”
Roar, fuck, fight, swoon
The world will open very soon!

To the office they return
Fighting for the lives they earn
With votes to cast and bills to pay,
No time to think of yesterday

The dead are gone
The end is nigh
The sun explodes
We say goodbye
Apocalyptic lullaby
Time marches on.

If I said I wasn’t tempted I’d be Nyack’s biggest liar
I’m mesmerized and paralyzed and twitching with desire
Your body is a temple where I worship lust for men
But I’d rather eat a corpse than go to bed with you again

You tangle me like poetry that no one understands
You break me with your smile and collect me with your hands
I’m a magnet to your hipbone and a sucker for your charms
But I’d rather drown a kitten than lie naked in your arms

It’s not that I see noncommital sex as a sin
And its not that I’m resentful or determined to win
I’m challenged and inspired by the mind games you play
But I’d rather bathe in vomit than give myself away

I remember the first time you took me to your bed
I loved another man but I went home with you instead
I thought my broken heart could be mended by lust
And I wondered if my instinct was the one thing I could trust

In the passion of the chase and the craze you put me through
I found myself believing I could fall in love with you!
Then one night I realized as I spread myself apart
I’d rather straddle swords than have a crotch for a heart

You told me once upon a time you would have wanted more
But love was just a dream and it was not worth burning for
So I kicked you off the pedestal and watched you from afar
Cuz I’d rather burn to ashes than become the way you are

ii could show you stars
you didnt know you weren’t seeing
ii could make you stronger than
the man you dream of being
ii could feed you chemicals
your tongue can’t even taste
you’d live a thousand years
and not a night would go to waste

but you grunt and hide
too tough to turn the tide
you won’t let me take you
you won’t let me break you
you won’t let me make you 
my libido bride

you’d have so much freedom
that you wouldn’t even want it
ii’d dress you up so sexy
you would never have to flaunt it
ii’d spin you through the desert
and ii’d fly you to the sky
ii’d let you love without me
and ii’d never ask you why

but you won’t let me break you
you won’t let me take you
real men love to lose control
but ii guess my red dress
is too tight around your soul

ii can smell desire
like a lion spots its dinner
and ii can cure inertia
like a priest can purge a sinner
my spirit knows the cadence
of a man who craves release
each time you leer at me
ii only yearn to bring you peace

but you grunt and hide
too tough to turn the tide
you won’t let me take you
you won’t let me break you
you won’t let me make you 
my libido bride

real men love to lose control
but ii guess my red dress
is too tight around your soul

I am mad. I am mad in both senses of the word: crazy, and angry. I was not mad last week, and I may not be mad next month. Now, here, I am mad. I don’t intend to become anything other than mad. I am angry enough to destroy myself but too disoriented to follow through. I hate myself for wanting to die over this, and I am crazy to believe that this is the only thing in my life that matters. This is a bomb in my chest waiting to explode; a truth squashed under the wheel of time that only the twists of madness could unfold. This is obsession. This is failure. This is inspiration. This is love.

you are the lapse between pulse and breath
the smoke that carries fire to lung to chest to blood
the intangible distance separating truth from flesh
softening the threat of death

you are not now and never here
the trail of a tear, lust tamed by fear
you are the silence between the plucks of your guitar
passing.faster.than.the.human.ear.can.hear

ii met you in a peaceful place
somewhere between time and space
your defiance of grace
unpainted my face

ii turn back behind
clear white black blind
ii find you anywhere
when ii open my eyes youre no longer there

and ii cant decide
what ii should reveal
how can ii hide
if this isn’t real

that after – hour shiver

midnight turmoil
sky in my eye
skin in my hand
 
he will demand an explanation
before our expiration date
runs late
 
it’s that hour when its
too early to be morning
and too late to be night
too wrong to be right
and too much left to write
 
skim my heart
and wipe the dust
you’re hazardous to my formless lust
 
evacuate
pretend you don’t hate
the ones you left behind
initiate, abbreviate
do you really think
you can hide from the blind?
they can find you
in the heart
that you tore apart
and signed
and sold as art

this digging further down
it’s not allowed
this cryptic self destruction wrapped in silver plastic smiles
not allowed
 
another yearning burning call
kill them all
they cant be here
they cant hear
what we are
must go far from this place wrapped in silver plastic
drastic data base
 

ii could touch his face but that would set me back a mile
ii could silver plastic smile but that would push me far ahead
and then ii’d never see his face again
ii’d never love his face again
ii’d never love again
ii’d never love
ii’d never love
 
ii’d only silver plastic smile for a while till ii’m paid
then ii’m laid
then ii’m married then ii’m happily-ever-aftered
well ii’ll happyeverafter myself
sitting in a silver spoon and cooking for the kiddies
and working with the yuppies buying puppies for their children
 
that’s where ii could hide away
from this touch face game ii play
this maybe ii could love again and maybe he still loves me is my only answer
 
but he doesn’t love me anymore
and ii am falling deeper down
digging for my soul
digging for my heart returned to me so someone else can tear it apart
so ii dont have to follow him forever in despair
crying:

“give it back and ii will use it well
give it back or let me touch your face
let me kiss you
let me feel your arms again
let me fall into warm saturdays and bright blue spaceship eyes
transporting me straight to naked fucking on mountaintops
in trees with the animals
take me ii’m ready to touch your face
to suck your blood
take me ii want your mistakes all in one
thrust straight into my blood
it’s been dry for far too long
pick a song
turn up the volume
throw me down
and give me back what’s mine” 

__

~ Diary 2001

suppression repression
unwind my expression
and twist me into your fantasy wife
perfect love in a glowing white life
the smooth metal sides on the blade of the knife

love like the dream, it could come true
believe it and see it, ii can become you

ii’m a beautiful thing
a precious song
you can sing to yourself when ii’m playing it wrong

passion unfolds through the tips of my fingers
the moment is fleeting but the feeling lingers

and when ii am away from myself
you can find me wherever you want me to be
and explain to me how ii become what you see

it’s perfect and precious, but what does it mean?
are there costumes and set lights behind the scene?
who wrote the plot and the script of our lives?
who defined love? who made this decision?
who scripted our feelings and labeled our visions?
should we eliminate the parts of ourselves that don’t fit perfectly into the plot
the romance that thrives whether we do or not?

do we twist ourselves to become the ideal
or does fantasy fall at the sword of the real?

there must be some place in this world for us
and there has to be something inside you that understands
that ii am standing beside you
but ii do not exist merely to act out this dream

and you tell me you love me
but words are like steam
that will fly into the sky in the wind and disappear in the rain
we talk about fear and we laugh at our pain
but we can’t really show it when we are searching to know it.
everything falls around our hands as we touch each other’s skin
weaving and tingling our way in
closing our eyes for the ride, being naked together
there’s nothing to hide
but are our bodies strong enough to pull out what’s inside?

your eyes are like streams
deep and alive
and in the light ii can see my reflection
the only mirror in the world that gives me a sense of perfection 

  but ii know there is more that won’t fit in your eyes
it’s too big and too wild for spheres of that size.
ii want to fit your vision
but ii can not kill
the side of myself with the stronger will.

she’s been screaming since long before your eyes could see her
in frequencies deeper than streams can contain.
you want to love me but you can’t even see me without being drowned in the pain.

so where do we go from here?
what can ii say that ii’d want you to hear?
how long can ii show you what you love to see?
how physical can this dream ever be?

the places ii could show you do not deserve to be seen by your eyes
but if ii stay here away from my home
ii will live the rest of our love seeing my reflection
obscured by perfection
drowning in streams
limited by the confines of your dreams.

do we twist ourselves to become the ideal
or does fantasy fall at the sword of the real?

_

~ Diary 2001

thoughtless empty brain chemistry
dilating into an abyss
the turn I never miss
the gaze I fix
the poison I mix
no promises  no lies  no compromise
no surprise
I predict moves before they’re chosen
time’s reversed, the circle’s frozen
it’s a pinnacle of wonder in his mind
a fracture I know I can find
and I’m aching to seek
but desire makes me weak
so I wait
submission remission
a pawn in his fate
he may wander yet 
but he cannot forget
I am everywhere
the moonlight melting in the thick night air
the ice sizzling as we stare
there’s nothing there
beyond the mist
in this gate we create
we cannot exist

we are alone
huddled here in mutual seclusion
woven into the thrill of confusion
like kittens and their thread unraveling too quickly
I can not chase this

my throat is dry and i’m not hungry, don’t waste away swallowing moments like these
yet it’s all a series of moments, isn’t it… this never, this forever, this if and when and why,
beyond reason and more certain than seasonal breezes blowing us out of proportion
I am not bigger than my pain and my path is not an ocean pulling you in by the edges of the tide and crashing to drown you. i’m flowing steadily in and the sunlight stains my back when I forget to protect myself from me, from you, from the predator
time
and it’s chasing me under
deep breath taking holding waiting for this to pass so I can stick my head through and see beyond it…
and my eyes can only see so far, and my lies can only cry so hard that pity piles up in heaping tremulous storms cascading the sunrise… I can’t see forever, I don’t understand what I can’t see and I don’t believe what I perceive

so why do I come up for air.. what am I swallowing down, what am I chasing, consuming, wanting; what am I building when the threaded whisper in my ear is breaking into silent screams every night
I want to break out of my body, to burst it open from the inside and fly across the ocean on cloud wings that dissipate into dust… I want to fall, I want to drown, I want to disappear into you again
you never promised
you never broke
you never told me why

I wish I could be completely alone for the rest of this ride across a sky, without a home to return to or a reason not to fly. I don’t want to come back, I don’t want to forget the way it hurt, the fist in my face, the nails in my eyes, the force of sobriety pushing me down through the floor through the door even when it’s closed shut tight and locked
you pushed me into myself and tore my insides out
cut and paste
there isn’t enough love in the world to waste this