Mid-Life Carisis

Neglect can kill old love
(If you forget the routine maintenance, that engine will not turn over)
and infatuation’s brand new car feeling
can masquerade as a reliable vehicle for escape.
When it breaks, don’t fix it;
get a new one.
I sure wish you would restore this old vintage beauty
and take her for a spin around the block and down the lane into the sunset.
The memories will serve you with more sentiment and cockle warming affection
than the empty reflection while seated behind the wheel of a
freshly factory delivered import that is 90% plastic.

Drip drop drown

Oh, the rain pitter patters to the beat of my heart
I fear the pattern drumming as the drip drops start
the devils got me in a wet grip leaking love from my parts
this storm is welling up
I try to quell it with my quill but I’m splashing around
the gutters filling to the point I think I’m gonna drown
floating up I feel my feet leaving the ground
I get the giving up
Out of control in this hole, I impart
the grief of gallon buckets filling till they’re falling apart
a soul can only tread the floods
with makeshift boats on the blood
until it all dries up and you’re stuck in the mud
The clouds gather and I crouch like a battered wife
It’s still shallow sheets of sprinkles but it’s taking my life
this condensation’s condescension cuts like a knife
it just a bloody mess
My lips touch the ceiling siphoning air too thin 
I’d call for help, but I’ve already given in
If this downpour has a drain, it’s damned in sin
time to acquiesce 
Pull the plug let it swirl
sewage slurping circle to hell
The first beat,
when I first loved,
it was easy to tell
I was marked in red
and I already fell
That sinister sump pump
Thump thumping
Sucking the swell
Of leaking hearts and skies
Far too late to be wise
It’s been 40 days and nights of being baptized
Whirlpools and undertows have their prize
Published in: on January 20, 2012 at 11:40 pm  Leave a Comment  

Boarding up my windows

To prepare myself for winter

I am boarding up my windows,

filling my pantry,

compacting my bones

so moisture cannot

penetrate the joints.

The world will forget me more

but I am resolved to

avert the chill

with hunkered down loneliness,

oceans of tea,

fleece swathed solidarity.

Removed from frigidity

I am stone


with my CB radio and scanner

leaning close

listening for chatter

flares and afghans at hand

in case the roof caves

If you find me in the thaw

Put a can opener to my lips

To hear the hiss and murmur

Of  secrets lonely women hold

In their ever sliding glacial hearts

There are storms no one can endure

And measures that are never enough

To save a home without love.

Published in: on January 14, 2012 at 10:53 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The moon is for lovers and loners
to be washed in the blue-gray light
With shivering awe
of goosebumps, like craters,
Ruminations abound in
stone hearts’ illuminations
And in the darkness, the sky
is the visage of campfires
ablaze in a valley below
In red and blue twinkles
stars flicker and echo
light years of stories of folks
These distant lights impel
a soul hopeful
Consolation in constellations
flash glowing eons of wonders beheld
Inspiration and romance
creep softly into every
fold of feeling exposed
Published in: on January 12, 2012 at 12:50 am  Leave a Comment  
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I have been clear
I have been direct
I don’t insinuate
still you reject
all the ways I care
now I don’t dare
to talk.

I’m beside myself
but still alone
you’ve checked out
so has my clone
the lack of change
is still the same
but I’m not to blame

I’ve played the game
Of Stepford wives and bedroom whores
The thanks I get is a Cold War
And cold shoulder over ice in cocktail cups
I’ve had enough
I’ve given up.

But the lioness deep down roars
To fight for the man you once were
Regardless of fruitless scars
I’ve earned
I suppose I’m still willing to be burned

…for a cause worth fighting for.

Published in: on January 5, 2012 at 12:43 am  Comments (4)  
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My heart is a hoarder

I don’t need a butler
I need a soul mate
You selfish fuck
You’ve discarded love for the clink in your cup
My heart is a hoarder
Every dirty scrap of love
Is in here somewhere
But I’m nowhere, like you
buried under guilt and grime
Ashamed to let my children see
I’ve held to precious things too long
Until it makes me ill
And I can’t find what I’m looking for
Your caviar and coat tails
Will not clear a magic path
To aortic spasms
Memorial chasms
From diaries stacked lifetime high
Deluged in rivers of nights left lonely
And mountains made of apathy
Covering the spans of space
Inside me where you seldom return
I have a big fucking shovel
And a rented 2 ton trash bin
At my ready
All you have to do is
Look in my eyes and
Give me your time

Published in: on January 5, 2012 at 12:25 am  Leave a Comment  
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