Mother's

Mother’s grueling incisors

Crueling ‘cross my bones

Bearing crosses beside our homes

Leaving gouges in their wake.

A thousand, thousand tears

Make up a single laugh:

My cross to bear, my dear.

As they calcify my fear, my dear,

I am left bereft with no one left,

And I can only cry,

“What humor have I left

in here with no one left to hear?”

As whispers whisper

Inside of here

In sight of her, my dear,

Looking on and loping ‘long

A ways away from wayward sons

As far and away from here

As she would dare, my fear.

Their whispers glister

Ever after, after ever

Never closer than this, my seer,

Always louder than a hiss, my dear

Just a touch, a breath

Without much else, and nothing less

But just a kiss beside my ear.

And all I hear

Are honeyed words

Licked and cleaned

By her love’s death

And all that’s left

Is no one’s best

Within this padded room, I bear.

The vines are digging

The vines are digging

In brickwork skulls;

Invading portents

Of cities come and gone.

The shattered rims

Of wary eyes

Proliferate:

Nuclear families are undone.

The fractured masses

Are huddled close together now,

Constricting round

The skulls civility has bought,

While seizures wrack

The naked mass

Who wait for news

That neither god nor man hath wrought.

And years of work,

It lies undone

In happy ashes

That cradle children

The kitchen heart,

The bedroom privates,

The foyer tongue,

And basement ruin.

The maw is stopped

By vacancy;

There is no feast

Of furniture,

Not since before

The vermin scurry

Around the hollow

Devoid of visitors.

Echoes

Breaching births
Wailing whales,
Wailing walls,
Walling wails...
Frozen agonies
Solid structure
Giving grief
Through the years
Through the tears
Threw the tears
Hopeless keenings
For long lost memories
Of ancient histories
That mean something
That meant something
That meant some thing
That meant some, thing
That meant one thing
That meant....
That...
T...
Echoes echo inside the Echo
Echoes echoing
Ecce homo
Echo

Witch's Hut-Spices

Spices season the pot:

Cinnamon,

Rough and red and ruddy in hue

All the more full with you;

Oregano,

Leafy, choppy, ever green,

A biting scent, a cloying herb

Basil,

Parsley,

Garlic,

Bits and tinier bits

Fleck our leaf-lined bodies

Beneat the trees

Committing heresies

Shadows within shadows,

Unseen,

Unkempt,

Unwatched we lie,

But never lie.

Witches we in

Blooms of red

Blooms of nightshade,

Hebanon,

Wolfsbane,

Ambroasia,

Nectar sweetened for the asking.

Spices flavor

Our well-seasoned bodies

Beneath the trees

Committing heresies.

Witch's Hut-Sister

Sister mine, O sister mine

Came knocking at the door.

Sister mine, O sister mine

Knowingly implores.

Knocks again and finds us dressed

Bubbles foaming on the floor;

Laughing, mocking our distress:

Our aching, breaking, bone-sore, joints-sore

Pots and pans and tea a mess--

Picking us up from off the floor.

What she might think, I dare not guess--

Sister mine, O sister mine,

You are spent and we are spent;

Sister mine, O sister mine,

Secret groves hold no bones from sibling torment.

Lost Child

I rest myself
Upon the shelf

So many seasons.
So many reasons.

Awaiting help
From someone else.

I see so clearly
And hold so dearly:

An empty box,
Clear sides.
One side:
A little boy is staring.
Another side:
A little mother glaring.
Another side:
A big bad father swearing.
Last side:
A little girl is daring.
Inside:
The lost child scaring
Inside the lost child:
Caring.

Witch's Hut-A Prelude

Stove tops firing Kettles filled with Love are sated.
Witch's Eyes on me, I stiffen--petrified to stone--a Gorgon.
Bodies twining--willow Tree and sapling mated
Sharing merry times with merry-making Organs.
Falling leaves and fallen Sun are falling now
Twilit branches knotting one another
Summer Cottage growing pregnant, growing heavy now;
Rubbing here and rubbing there;
Waxing greater, waxing brighter underneath the boughs;
Rubbing, rubbing everywhere.
Twisting, twining, merging into one branch, one Heart
Never, ever, never, ever falling hard apart.

Dandies Ashore, Princesses on the Ship

The ocean in my blood sings everlasting,
Of seas and ships, princesses going abreast
Upon the crow's nest, ever first, and e'er outlasting
The waggish lads in castles contrasting
The ladies on their rising tide o'ercasting
Their prim and primy mates unfastening
Their breeches flapping wide ashore,
Who none would take for mates of theirs
Being foolish rogues and nothing more:
Abetting their petting amongst kiss and dares
Breathing their dandies whilst women implore
The mainsail open even as they bare
Their dalliances to the wind and tide
Enacting secret rites of spit and swear
Climaxing in desires to shoot and stride.
None hold the princesses still
For they fight where none may follow
No suitor may hope until
The ladies return from their lover's hollow
In a far away land of ocean green
Where dandies never are allowed to preen.

Night Sighs

Lascivious. Vicious. Luscious. Lust.
List. Lost. Low. Lone. Long. Night.
Newt. Cricket. Croak it.
Toad.

Lascivious swamp sisters
Provide vicious cures for lovers' qualms.
Luscious hips help lovers forget old lovers;
Lustful rutting helps new lovers to calm.
List, oh children, list to the sisters;
Lose yourselves to the Lost Girls,
Lie low with their brood my brothers;
Lie long and alone till your longing unfurls.
Night love is the love nature loves best.
Newts and Crickets make love through song and throating;
Their moaning crooning longing in its purest;
Toads make their need known by croaking.

Haiku Blast - Auditions

Emotionless faces.
Auditors audition me.
Where do their hearts lie?

Actors bleed onstage

Before ever treading boards.

Who sees their joy? Love?

Many amusements
Rippling across the camera
Mute laughs in the dark.

An introduction

A hope filled room. Nameless face.

What will you perform?

Are you willing to--
Could you be persuaded to--
Guts strewn on the floor.

Willing to cut hair.

No tattoos or piercings too.

Blank canvas for you.

Hunting for Friendships

Hunt. Hint. Hight. Height. Hit. Hot.
Hoot. Hood. Clit. Clove. Close.
Close. Choice. Choose.
Whose?

Hunting through empty rooms with forgotten wares,
Hinting company and friends galore,
Glinting relics of bygone days, lost in the days' affairs;
Highting friends and lovers that they adored .

Falling from a great and terrible life,
Hitting reasons all the way down.
Pounding into circumstantial strife.
Hooting out my melancholy sound,

Cloves smoked between aisles and car seats.
Closing shop for the first last time.
Getting close and closer to getting close.
Choices never waver when they're wrong.
Choose an ending.
Whose?

Haiku Blast - Party

Panicked picks, prying.
Frightened chicks, lost and crying.
The same. They're the same.

Ever been accused

Of being a drunk mirage?

No? Better parties. 

Little unsteady.
Love, strong wine, and praises makes
A body heady

A bag of holding

Never contains what's needed

For the party's quest.

Mum says arts and crafts
My father always said that
Perfect comes from drafts.

The night lights burning 

The light inside eyes dimming,

The night mares waiting.

Ocean Silent

Silence. Silliness. Soulless. Bondage.
Breakage. Storms. Seas. Floods. Tempest.
Tossing. Hoping. Breaking. Bucking.
Broken.

Silence.
Upon the wave-tossed ocean
From the mouths that Fate has spun
Silliness abounds upon the decks,
Until, soullessly, home come the wrecks.
Bound in bondage they come ashore,
Breaking oaths with those that they adore.
Storms are ever brokering
Betwixt the seas and their offerings.
Flooding their wasted depths
With tempests of seafarers' bitter regrets:
Tossing in bed alone next to their spouse
Hoping against hope they'd only reach out,
Breaking the silence with a leg or some such,
Bucking in surprise at the softest touch.
Broken in twain upon the mast
Is no less what happened in the past.

Haiku Blast - Teeth

Teeth chattering cold.
Teeth clamoring to get out
of my rotting head.

Mouth drowning in oil,

Gagging on my sickening bile,

"Don't open your mouth."

Thirty white horses
On a red hill. First they stamp,
And then they are still.

Mouth--she is smoldering

Whilst teeth smoke--they are mouldering

All else--shouldering.

Teeth. Teeth. Teeth. Teeth. Teeth.
Turn to slivers and pierce lips
Splaying gums, flaying.

Teeth on skin, nibbling.

Saliva through lips, dribbling. 

Youth and death, sibling.

A Kind of a Sonnet

Little purple elephants are dancing now,
Purging slights against the starry prancings now,
Broken musings on a bathroom stall defacing now,
Something sticks inside my casing now.

Fighting fast and losing faster now.
Learning how to be a lie after now/
Learning how to be alive after now.
Flustered fights are fixtures now,
Plastered cross the pubescent pictures now.

Empty, endless mind is ending now,
Draining down the drain unending now.
Scaring scarcely any, scaredy cats abound now,
Founding findings through absconding friends around now.

Colored crazy not yet now,
He said, she said, they said inside my head now.

A pitched peak

A pitched peak
is standing there
reflecting sky
with none to spare,
ominous pesterings
and burgeoning shades
of coloured glass
are festering there;
sequestering in
a corner cold
of clear, dead, blue, dead
ice, death skins of old.
Insipid sky
reaching fingers forth
to hide the peak
from villains' froth
and Heaven's keep.
A stay in Tartarus
where gods can't seek
from all of us,
to house the peak,
keeping it
in isolation
to prevent its
imminent decimation
at the hands of
kings and crowns
and bands of
hunters seeking desolation.
But none may move
the solemn peak
as it shall prove
with sky's reap.

Remember to ever be.

Unmindful. Unheedful. Wrathful. Hateful.
Successful. Shitful. Sinful. Sightful.
Kindful. Happyful. Sadful. Madful.
Helpful. Hopeful.

Remember to ever be:

Unmindful of the screaming kids,
Unheedful of the souls that dream,
Wrathful of the mind that builds the pyramids,
Hateful of the eyes that gleam.

Successful types in business snipes,
Filling their seats with shitfuls till they're threadbare,
Sinful thoughts building prototypes,
Filling the skies with sightfuls of nightmares.

Kindfully abrogate responsibility,
Happyfully take away another's joys
Sadfully inform the next of kin of life's absurdity
Madfully execute those in your employ.

I hope you find this present guide so helpful
As you ever were so artfully hopeful.

And remember to ever be.

Untitled Drivel - Part II

I have to keep the outside stairs

The far-flung corner that nobody sees

Afraid of cold and empty stares

Alone and covered in fleas

That eat right through my hopeful, fungal clutching.

The sole attraction at this freakshow I call home

Well employed inside my mind, dancing bullets raining

Upon my tidy grave all filled with loam.

My heart leaps when I smell a touch

Come, stay with me, my empty darlings,

We can make this place a home

Ride inside my vacant eyes,

Where screams can ever roam.

There is a storm inside my heart and mind,

They’ve not been friends for quite some time

Mother taught me you should listen

to that calming voice inside your rind:

That Liar deep within your throat,

Just waiting to be heard,

My little devil who licks and grins

Lapping acid off my soul and into words;

Plays with bones of lovers lost

Living cozy in my ribs

And never lets me go away

He holds me close with tales of cribs.

Started charging rent I did,

Because he wouldn’t leave my soul;

Couldn’t make the eviction stick,

Lost and wearied on my own.

He laughs and jeers at the song I sing

on cold and empty streets of yore,

I stayed to talk in hail and storms

Waiting on his fictions, I deplore.

Walking cross the broken glass

may have been extreme,

But still I swear my dear, dear lass,

If only I could remember your good, good name

It was for her good, the one I love.

I eat the pain and vomit up the joy

My eyes are bleeding, but they call it tears,

I’ll keep on eating, please, oh please

Savoring all the wasted years.

Can’t take these bags of shit that cave my chest

But, they are chained to my emaciated breast:

A little gift from lady love.

Say farewell to those I love:

The list entails my whole wide life

of family, friends, and fuckers all

You’ll still be at it when I come again

Come cracking through that burning caul.

So here’s my song, I hope it lasts

As long as my heart beats

As long as my heart beat

As long as a heart beat

As long as a heart…

Beat.

I can’t imagine a world where story ends

So my last one hope:

My story fades and becomes a legend

A moral for school kids to learn and dote

A source for their derision

So the school yard taunts can haunt my ghost

Long after the hurt stops hurting

But let me say before I go, what hurts the most

Is yours and you attacking, laughing

While I lie down upon my sword.

Bad form allows for jokes like that

To be played on me and mine

I’ll take on the whole wide world

if I could stop just one sad child

from ever being afraid like me

I’ll stomp and kill the monsters in the dark

Even though they look like me

Untitled Drivel - Part I

I did not love until my dying breath.

I keep on loving still.

I did not die before my time.

I never die until--

Cannot see the forest for the trees.

Too caught up in catching flowers.

I have not seen the other seas:

The one inside your breast held my sunburst heart.

I did not care for home cooked meals,

Til one was made for me.

I couldn’t see my sickness.

Till, at long long last, I healed.

Worry I write too little.

Worry I say too much.

I have no rhyme or reason

Because I never studied such.

Mother told me “Go to school”

She never told me to learn

I went to all my classes as a rule

And never went outside though I yearned.

My lessons are the scars I keep

Inside the jar that is my heart

My sentences are never full

Having never been allowed to start.

I am comfortable with silence

Because I was told my voice is _________ (horror)

My love is boundless

Hoping I might die less

I strap my loves to my emaciated chest

In the hopes that they won’t leave

Before the timer counts to dying

In this warm and fuzzy breast.

I have never been told I love you first

I have never been attractive

I have never been the one beloved

I have never been non-radioactive.

Haiku Blast - Loving Kind

A trick of the light
A tilt of the head at night
And a lover's plight.

Skimming along through

All that I was meant to do.

Suddenly, there's you.

She asks if I can
Help to open all the jars...
Satisfying sound.

I write poetry.

Everybody writes poetry.

What chicanery.

I know Santa's real
though my parents buy presents.
Santa is still real.

Baking beats barking.

Sauntering beats laundering.

Love thy laboring.