Wednesday, March 30, 2011


The fruit of defiance obliterates the berated dunes
and allocated at noon is a dislocated disc jockey
playing sour tunes.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Fading Nymph

On the shores of a vast lake
fog treads over soft flakes.
Wounded footprints in tribulations
carries such unnecessary hate.
A girl floats by my side,
a half nude nymph.
Hair is long and wavy
and eyes colored maroon.
About her waist is a beaded string
and a stuffed pouch tied on.
She holds the treasures
many would consider trash.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Bone Marrow Rockets

Bone Marrow Rockets, a bright brocade of sound
and light scattered above the dusky gray clouds.
We are clowns in society cheerfully queer
gestures from yesteryears.
I smile as plastic has made me
molds of artificial membranes
I do not control my destiny.
Political sharks, government of rusty values
dart at the sentimental hearts that give a damn for a common man.
One cent used to pay for a cup of coffee.
Portraits burning in garbage cans
phone booths disappeared long ago
why can't we ship in murderers
to fight the wars for you?


Out of the Mediterranean, bristles of thoughts form colors over a canvas. Perfidy is proof of prior plastic pollutants that you cannot forgive the hounds.


Egrets regret the broken feathers left for better measures. Winter comb and brush the landscape take me to a summer lake. Spiders on fire a noose of wire strung around my neck. Let me tip-toe across the charcoal, distance makes a different cycle. Leading doves into water. Shackles shake and rattle. Steeping tea leaves, fragile tea bags, mutants spy an undefined love. Puppet master mates a young girl. Foolery spreads thighs of pure magic. Butter onto toast, juice in glass cup, poetry in morning rays, delightful day. Each unafraid, unaware, innocent dangers linger in the air. Escape and run far away. Loss of appetite. Apricot girls pray for the apricot trees to blossom from mother earth's bosom. Legend foretold this day of night's shade he would disguise himself as prey. He misled a nation. Mistook him for a victim... and what was I? I was nothing but a madwoman roaming the filthy streets. Skipping stones in bloody pools, dogs that bark for food, sisters that laugh, brothers that cry, bullies that loose; we are all washed down a whirlpool of hate.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011


I become rushed with pain and sorrow in the moment of lovely times. Looking upon life that lives without malfunctions leaves me to compare myself to that extraordinary beauty I cannot obtain. That perfection in confidence, I just cannot simply claim. I am not a flower, I am a thorny weed. With one look at me you'd wish I'd die. I wish I could die too. Invisibility is the state I claim. Secrets concealed, my dreams cancelled, I live on the waiting line in my mind. The butterflies and moths take me away...


Desk drawer opens from my chest
millions of scorpions scatter
my hair becomes rough matter.

Instantaneous freezing shapes
accumulate in the lakes of once
thriving waters.

Immobilized joints
stuck in contorted positions
illuminate all the destruction.

Monday, March 14, 2011


I am connected to a balloon
the loon that saw me last was on the bow of the boat.
I have heard the crickets last song
and danced to it barefoot in the mildew grass.
I am lifted above the treetops,
my knee high socks snagged some leaves.
Reverent ruins in Icelandic sneers
strumming deeply into my fears.
Harpooned heirlooms gush entrails,
relapse into sadistic tortures.
Vibrating poles penetrate bones
necromancer Roman's golden throne.
Idyllic cadillacs rev up with fumes
shelter the scents in glass tubes.
Reverse the prayer praised to a God
that denotes a human as nothing more then a frog.
Vehemently senile..... go out to kill...... drink yourself
dead with poisonous revenge.
"Not to the death," a television voice speaks, "that will succumb
you to your rather pointless fate."
I am ruled by forces that I know of and see,
then why must I feel my heart beat?

Friday, March 4, 2011

Surreal Shower

I turned the cold dull faucet dial in counter clockwise fashion
expecting sparkling drops of fresh water to flow
only to find a swarm of hornets buzz about.
I panic in dismal rage, the doors handle cannot be turned
hornets land on me stinging all at once
I crash to the ground in pain
till light is no longer seen.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Random assortment of challenges arrange 
to practice debauchery 
uncanny synthesis 
level headed witnesses.
I cannot feed money to a machine
that is not worth fighting for!
Society runs on speed.
America on caffeine.
Aching muscles 
resulted from ghosts
of slavery.


The you that sits there cross-legged and stares at me cross-eyed,
a cross dangles around your neck.
That leather necklace with the crucifix pendant has bored a hole
into your chest.
A human like you should not bear a cross.
Religion means nothing if you are alive...

Worthless wars kills worthless men and women.
War is a man-made erasure
such as life is an art form that is temporary
always evolving till it

Without words, a song, or a dance
no one will ever rise again.
Have you thought all your ideas through?
I say to you and only you,
give the seed of life a chance...

Lucid admiration occurs betwixt
four or more and thus,
a group is formed.
Use trust wisely.

Death Lands

If you asked me to cut your back in half and let you linger in pain, I would do this for you out of love. Twisted sheet metal like eyes, silver hints of doves gone out to look for land. Wonder out of your loneliness. There grows a cave in the distance. We must hide from placid shrapnel. Supple but chic, grieve for grovers in the greener country side. Warmer pastures of subtle shame, naked in clouds shadows for me. A blanket of goat fur cover you and I. A fire brimming on the edge of the endangered town guides us far out of gloom. Take this mushroom and eat it, it's the body of the earth and lifts you up to grow like trees. No leaves tremble as we walk down a path. Pine trees tingle with volcanic ashes. We are dusted with poisonous white flakes to remind us of the days we killed our young and fed them to fires; we were dumb. Yet, not so incompetent that we knew we had to survive. Weaker ones must be sacrificed. Houses of glum, we are bums, shelter for wolves, scarce of pooling waters. All the land is thirsting for or fresh blood. Brewing below granite rock is sweet lava. The pine trees looks as though they ooze lava instead of sap. I am glad to eat a delusional snack.

A long Ways Away

The day, the time, the rhyme that was shy. Cancel my plans for the evening. I must rest up for the reunion of the glory days. The hours that conceived my powers. The lover without flowers. Give me your hand, for I will place it on a cold, ivory key of this piano. Please, let me stay with you. In outer space chills the finery of powdered pigments to be placed in hair. Lend me your brass knuckles give them to me now. SHout out the exoteric answers! Nuclear rhythm, a solid tune, aging melodies, raging felonies. Tell me again of how you love me! I forget if you are coming or going. I do not see you when you see me. I think you turn invisible. Deniable phantom chains, wrists assaulted with glaze. Former member of my band, discontinue counting on your hands. I will chop them off for you.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

The Breaking of Many Hearts

Do you remember the way she flew?
Her tiny feet wore pure gold slippers,
her breasts felt the finest silk,
her earlobes pierced with sterling silvers,
gems cascaded down her hair.

And when she cried
every man felt sad
but she was the one to
break their hearts.

She fell in love so easily
instigated shame
sinned every time
still was not afraid to rhyme.
Her sour to sweet disclosure seemed fine.
For it was as though she was brimming with infinite sunshine.

One was never to foresee
she could bend a strong man in half
by the whims of her seduction
she tore at men's flesh with her teeth.
Fingernails shaper then knives,
she stabbed at their skin.
She had a thirst for blood
but never drank it.
Do not take her for a vampire,
she would take offense.

A little of her insanity goes a long way.
She inspired all the fair maidens of the town
to go awry.
"Empowerment to the women!" she cried.
Bells rang at dinnertime and no one eats.

Fortitude of abysmal blame
Go run for your life!
Take the trains marked savior
find some other land of misogyny.
However, that does not mean
this idea will not spread.

***Notes: I really don't know. Sometimes we are all lead to believe we still live in a patriarch society but, from the true women's movement of the 60s and 70s all has seemed pretty equal. I don't want women superior to men, it just made for a crazy poem idea. I don't think I like the poem too much anyways. I will keep playing around with this concept for a better way to approach it. I want to encompass all this thought I have here now. There are still those men that want superiority to women, but all that should undoubtedly change. So should stereotypes.


A true night is fearful flights of perpetual glaze.
A star wondered down from the galaxy to meet me.
A moth flew to my hand and made me cry.
A sister told me not be frightened.
A brother pushed me forward.
I know I must leap past the present
to stick myself in the future
if any progress is to be made.

My own haiku

I do not belong in the present.
Too many hipsters run rampant drinking themselves drunk
thinking that drugs are fun.


I know this day would come
when all the beasts scatter to beat
the sun's heat.
If you knew too
why didn't you follow me
to a safe hiding place
incognito of fluffy trees.
Please be with me tonight,
my handsome lad
with silky hair...