How many have sinned, how big is the prison?

It’s a plug that keeps us from spilling. A plug.
Or amniotic fluid would be seeping, on the rug.
And no one can quite come up with the drug
that heals that hole
that holds in the soul
to keep the world from taking a chug.
 
Oh, that plug, it is made of up of crud
But, fear not, it reacts well to suds
And a very vigorous scrub
will prevent a dribble
on the delicate pebble
that would leave a trail of blood.
 
The path that diverts us is wide
while the one best to choose is a line
and everyone has committed a crime
so God has decided
 our souls be debrided
before we go to heaven to do time.
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Published in: on June 26, 2009 at 12:28 am  Comments (3)  
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The wind: a breath, a current

A breath
went for a walk
with two gallivanting fingers
up and down
her spine
That doormat
sure can hold on tight
when the wind
comes from behind
  
A breath
that couldn’t talk
through pillows and trachea hugs,
exhaled in tears
and darkened stratospheres,
that muffled wind
who can bend and ascend
to the heights of beanstalks
 
Some foreign breath
that blows wind chimes
carries, like rivers,
the silence
and disseminates
the seeds
much like dandelion weeds
to a distant resting place
for unspoken violence
 
The wind: a breath, a current
that strips trees or tickles noses,
waves flags,
shifts sand,
and is a collection
of the sighs
of millions of years’ toil
Published in: on June 25, 2009 at 12:03 am  Comments (2)  
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Carniveralore

Carnivale whore
carnivore
eat that corn dog to the core.
    
Consume with carnal
consecration
Bob’s kebab of quick castration
 
Carouse on careening carousel
cudgel
that comestible to compel
  
Cult-cock clown
go down
curly-whirl round and round
   
Cotton Candy boy-cloy
coyly
cumming carny killjoy
 
Circus seminal strangulation
seedy
side-show stilted satiation
 ckcod-my
Published in: on June 11, 2009 at 2:47 am  Comments (1)  
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The Refusal

Again, I fuse
the idea
to lose
the respect of many
to my identity.
I refuse
to spend
myself beyond
my means.
 
I decide,
what fills
my time.
How criminal
it seems
to bow
to theives’
futile tasks
and plans.
 
No more,
give I,
more than
I have,
and wish to
give so freely.
No love,
no time,
no help,
no life,
no wisdom,
money,
sex or lies.
 
Unregretfully,
decline I,
the rules
do not apply.
My words,
abhorrent truth.
Firm, I am
and in command
of what I can
grasp.
 
I reject hollow
particpation;
you do not
need me,
you do not
knead me,
You have not
kneed me,
where it hurts.
 
My refrain
how sane,
but foreign
to the skein.
My resolve
bound tight
around
my heart.
 
So come
and prowl
and pry
somehow
if you think
yourself
insistent.
Surrender
some,
I will become
your loveliest
assistant.
Published in: on June 11, 2009 at 1:41 am  Comments (3)  
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Spectral Wisp

spectral wisp 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
If only
I could have
your breath
on my ear
panting hot
but it’s not.
How menthol wintry
shiver shimmery
you sigh
 
Shudder stroke
tickle-drip
vapor trickle
finger tip
encircling
spectral wisp
hulaing
my ivory hips
  
I feel you
brush my skin
surge through
my hair
I reach
into the space
around me
You are not there
 
Saddling the frigid
breeze you blow
gravitating
amidst
the ghastly glow
Ascendancy!
you came
for me
 
Hover always
flitter floating
telekinetic
anemic arctic
taunt me
want me
haunt me
ungraspable
sentimentality.
Published in: on June 10, 2009 at 1:14 am  Comments (4)  
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