the Devil’s Crossroads

Beware the desperate man

though he longs for love

keep in mind he only needs

a friend. And understand

the desperate woman

though pain in her virtue

there’s much strength

in her hand. So when at

the Devil’s Crossroads

wind whipped bodies bare

man and woman tremble

with nothing left to fear.

Advertisements

Just the right amount

Just the right

amount of whiskey

can make a poor man rich

and a rich man poor

it all just depends on

who’s asking for more.

another night

At the end of the day

I am nothing but

sweat and fat

and bad breath

and poems

strewn out among sage

and corkscrew, lighter, and coffee mug

wine and love for it all

all the things that I have carried

and still carry till this day

another night

another light

twinkling in the Friday night hysteria

of weekend fun

unseen.

Open Cavity

I fell in love with myself

over and over and out again

until all there was was an

Open Cavity

beat beat beating down the block

beating and always beating

even when it stopped

I fell in love with myself and

that Rocket-shaped mailbox.

Her Genius

We are all our own genius

aren’t we? Self-help tells us

to be selfless while the world

tells us to be tough

slowly, gradually

like a surgeon’s steel

picking apart pieces

of our sanity like a game

of Operation. We are all

children at heart, aren’t we?

When our nose’s glow red

and hairs stand on end

while our souls ignite like kerosene

flailing our arms in ecstasy

remembering the truth which

from birth was wiped clean

like a board of chalk.

We’re always trying to get that

message back, that message which

in a world or man and steel and greed

can only exist as long as love at first sight

where in the morning she lay

soundlessly asleep bound to no one

her genius in my memory forever.

Our Mind’s Eye

We mustn’t shy away from fear

but rather dive face first

into it’s claws letting it tear our flesh

from cheek to chin and gnaw

on our skulls if not only to

release ourselves from our mind

whose eye is so often filled with fear.

affliction or redemption

What’ll it be

said the man

on the stand

to the reflection

looking very grim

sunken eyes

of redemption

come on come on

choose our next addiction

this time though

be aware

aware of my remission

I know I know

what fun is there in that

hell why don’t we find out

it’s either or perhaps

I’ve given you the right

that now I’m taking back

the will to fight the urge

I know that’s what I lack

so taking down the mirror

with no one staring back

the man poured the reflection

with ice into his glass

he calmly took a sip

one more than another

and when the glass was empty

to him it did not bother

just one more

thought the man

understanding his reflection

it’s up to you to choose

affliction or redemption.