inward/outward
Why do we deliberately feel the need to explain the doing? A generation so filled to the brim with detailing to one another the “act of” as opposed to experiencing the joys of personal secrecy..Is the reason I write this to portray that I have emerged as an icicle floating on the side of that very brim that has over flowed? I do not doubt my intentions when made in solitude but the inability to remain instilled with clarity in the presence of others remains blemished.
While I am certain that this same aggravation awakens the general populous, it is masked by apathy. We all live separately, but are conjoined collectively by the wiring and endless type, words, and banter that detail the every step of our torn leather boots.
presence
Why must a force between two bodies embody any other point of view? I centrifugally cower in your direction as loose recollections unfold themselves. Stained by awareness and ingrained to the staleness of an angry cigarette, the feelings I collect dangle off my fingertips while tightening the grip of this ever-changing lechery.
wrong
Suspicion and a vengeance
are lethal to combine,
and as the steadied mind
disputes itself,
the errors stand in line.
She creates the rain.
Violent and estranged;
alive and alone;
on time and insane.
summer’s time
the tingling-eyed barista
trickles trinket-sized teacups
with lilac, thyme and teasel
as I wilt into the day
She swallows scarlet sheets
to evade all pain
from the boy with clouded eyeballs
and the girl with half a brain
Noon
Dark hair sleeps on my pillow as the Titanic sinks its teeth into arrays of ice trays left upon my back. You use your mother’s apron and your father’s quick wit to freshen up and cradle fits held behind the bedroom door. I stand abandoned by the bottle that throws itself at the wall as Pinocchio’s nose reaches tall into the blur of our drunken lust. Now, we watch tabletops topple like Dali’s clocks as water melts like lemon drops and you begin to mop the floor.
a point
The inability to communicate creates an earthquake and shakes the mistaken bells and whistles until they crack and crash like missiles onto my forehead. You have no idea the dread I feel when your listening ear turns into a flickering glare powered by the electric sting of your tongue. Expectations and exaggerations mock my imagination as the actual situation is much less orchestrated and much more understated than I had thought us to be.
compatible chatter
Endless banter is spitting fragments into my ears that give new meaning to the word dagger. Cheap chatter floats effortlessly off the tongues of those inhaling self-doubt and exhaling meaningless words and letters. There is no promotion to society existing in this dialect besides the undressing of verbs and beings. Beings that do not necessarily want to exist in this light, fully nude, fully exposed, yet so fully unaware of their exposure.
I constantly find myself gazing at the indigo above me as it creates an image that is only characterized by my longing admiration of the infinite. I was staring and watching the birds floating through the air as if they were a symphony. A conductor seemed to be coaching each wing flap and then, even before intermission let loose, right as I motioned my head to look directly into the reality occurring on the street ahead of me, you appeared head-on, head-first, head facing my once dreaming eyelids. Most people assume that beauty is better seen in someone who stands next to an evening’s dull lamp, but the brightness of the day further proved the beauty that you behold and as our endless arrays of affection began tying together ringlets of soliloquies, we realized we were compatible.
Her
A parasitic mushroom
that feeds upon the land
An angel with the
Devil’s eye,
A sphinx without
a plan.
A poisonous portrayal
of love from fungal matter
A mask to hide,
with Eyes so blue,
the devil nor sphinx
mattered.
Infringed upon my territory,
inspired by the sun
eyes conquering
all land:
my mane, my rose,
my gun.
