Is love a shackle?

No one wants to be lonely

but they still wanna be free

So where does that leave a poor soul like me?

The longing, the yearn-

it scrapes and it grates

exploration, my whims, and men;

check the weight

on the scales

Could we manage

the balance?

Oh dear!

Could I live with the echoes

of hearts beating near to the

fractals and fragments

of possibility? And have another

hand on oars

when traversing the sea,

the vast sea,

the vacancy,

the open doors

held for me?

Can I follow my impulse

with a pulse close beside-

A like mind right in stride

and along for the ride?

Every urge, will it be fed

Can I trust they will be

happy, fulfilled and also feel free?

Could I find a parallel person

no follow, no lead?

And when, finally, I am idle,

will he lay still with me?

In this life we are all

just leaves in a stream

caught in our own currents

and sometimes out of sync

and at times we get stuck

behind the debris

as the other floats on

floats on

Published in: on November 27, 2012 at 12:48 am  Leave a Comment  
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bend space and time

with your mind…

when you can bend spoons?

I’d bend you behind me,

and spoon for an eternity.

Instead of summoning foreign galaxies,

I’d use my telepathy

to let you have a scoop of me

Or hell, we could just levitate

and bend our limbs in figure eights

But I digress

Let’s make a mess

Blow each others’ minds and telekinect

We’ll bend the big dipper

get deeper, shred zippers

and around our little fingers, wrap time winding

watch stars shining

as they shift,

wielding the hourglass’ drift

of cosmic glittering gun powder

into our ever curving endless hours.

Published in: on November 27, 2012 at 12:29 am  Leave a Comment  
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From across a table
in a dimly lit restaurant
The traces
of your face washed over with want,
The haunt of hunger,
A carnal hunger
Bobbles on your quivering brow
lock-eyed, a silent sigh spawns a
saliva surging mouth
The air between us grows thick
With sultry stick
And how
All the stars thud to the earth
As the girth of the air
In our momentary tension
Drags them there
No sparks or blitzkriegs avert our stare
This silence,
intentional and intense
Dictates my first entree:
Biting the inside of my lower lip
And it seems clear, quite
That if I
In this chair, remain
Will devour myself,
My entire self
And it only seems fair
That we, ourselves excuse
For there is so much to savor,
And no time to lose.

Published in: on November 10, 2012 at 11:19 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Transfiguration of the Ballroom Belle

We used to dance cheek to cheek
Now I’m going check to check
without a buck
and woes strung like weights ’round my neck
You feckless fuck
I’m such a shipwreck and in the muck
and heck I’ve had no luck
with pricks that peck
and expect a suck
The world is just a hex 
and I’m left moonstruck,
hoping for higher grounds;
promises sought in orbs so round 
like rings that never took;
that shine like silver things 
that caught my eye-
just dancing light upon the brook
Or a hook in hookers’ mouths,
I’d feed on lures
in hopes of nourishment
so I could reach the sea,
where vast waters
let the moon dance upon unbroken rippling
But tides will break
like my wave-worn heart
and there’re some shores
I’ll never reach
Eddies and Johns twirl me round 
and spit me into the muddy breach
In my god-damned fate, 
no floodgate will free my gills
from miry bogs 
I’m stuck and gasp, evolving legs
till I’m a frog, unkissed 
dismissed in trysts,
I’ll claim a fly for a best friend
chew him up and regurgitate him over and over again
But what waits for discarded creatures
such as I,
with bodies submerged and eyes to the sky?
I can bellow and croak- 
(it’s all just midnight’s white noise)
and dream of overall front pockets on dirty little boys.
Published in: on November 8, 2012 at 10:23 pm  Leave a Comment  
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I wanna tightrope walk on contrails,

skinny dip in the zephyrous yonder

lost in wild blue wanderlust thoughts with you.

We can linger in the umbra

when the sun holds its nose and dunks under;

let our starry Van Gogh eyes

light up Cheshire bright

and wink

like Betelgeuse and Orion.

We can fit our feet with Autumn leaves,

surfing the dusky sky’s coffeebreath breeze

and jump into the raked piles

of our fall in love.

Published in: on November 6, 2012 at 2:29 am  Leave a Comment  
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