"You're drunk
you
need it." - Lykke Li.

Don't puke
this time,
make it the seed
instead of the giving earth.

The earth pukes in fire,
and that hurts the belly.

Trust me when I say
I'm stupid,
and that I'm staying.

I have been with Heather,
I have been with Carolyn,
I have been with Gnat,
I have been with Yolanda.

I have ****** all of them.

Every single one
has not touched
as fatally
as you
and you have undone
the ropes
inside of me.

The unbound package
is
disaster.

It signals the death of promise.

But it gives in the lighthouse
of love.

I cross the fog,
I trample
the destinations
of rain,
I laugh at thunder.

No storm is greater than
you.

So replace me,
disown me,
hate me.

I love you,
and that will not leave
in the night,
like werewolves
after dawn.

Another masterpiece born
Want to hear it?
Blank face, yawns

I want to make love to you violently

I want to put my hands on you

I have been told that I am a good lover
Because of the way I use my hands

Forgive my fingerprints
I am still learning how to be gentle

And

I want to ******* like a crime scene

So much DNA evidence in the aftermath
We both come like ******

It is your hair
And skin
And sweat

In my nails
And teeth
And sheets

I have never done things gracefully

But I have learned that loving proper
Is not seen in how well you say grace
But is seen in your willingness to sit at the table

I will dine on you

Leave my sweet tooth in your naval

You can scar up my empty spots

Until this hardened tissue
Becomes the secret cuneiform of regret
For all the ways I didn’t love you
When I had the chance

Now’s my chance
To love you like a vagrant fire in a forest
When I was busy building homes
At the base of your volcano

These hands are practiced
in callous
in rough
in firm grip steel kettle fire without the wet rag

And I want to put them on you

Until none of this makes sense

Without you
I lie alone in my bed listening to wind
Walk through the pepper trees

watch me -
i'll braid my pixie-short hair,
wear stars in my eyes and
dance like everyone's watching:
can't be done? i'll do it.
never been done? it has.
watch me -
i'll laugh at all the wrong things,
trip both ways on the stairs and
get up beaming:
i'll snag my hair into pretzel-braided crown around my merry face and i'll
spark my eyes at you when you look at me doubtfully.
watch me -
i'll rock what i rock
talk what i talk and walk how i walk:
swirl black into wings over my dark lashes and
my eyes will laugh underneath,
smile my wolfish smile with my one wonky back tooth,
and i'll blow you away.
watch me -
i have no idea what i'm doing,
and it's a hell of a thing
to see.

there's something 'bout jazz music, fills the eye
with thoughts of woodwinds brass and smoky dives
where clubs and streets meet moonlight in the sky

the music notes, arpeggio, they fly
with drinks around, the smoky mood arrives
there's something 'bout jazz music, fills the eye

the New York nightlife entertains the eye
past midnight, sewer smoke floats up alive
where clubs and streets meet moonlight in the sky

with Songs From the Night Before, Sanborn is high
and carries all, along with him they jive
there's something 'bout jazz music, fills the eye

the room is dark but for a stage so nigh
spotlight exposes New York's heartbeat live
where clubs and streets meet moonlight in the sky

where jazz songs live forever, never die
the spirit of New York at night it thrives
there's something 'bout jazz music, fills the eye
where clubs and streets meet moonlight in the sky

(C)2009, Christos Rigakos

You don't see what I'm putting up with
How I am lying here with gritted teeth
And a stomach full of acid
Creeping its way up my throat
You said you didn't want someone with a heart on his sleeve
So I tore it off and it stayed where it dropped
For someone so obsessed with looks
It sure was easy to sew these eyes shut

Are we moving in the right direction?
Someone who is strong
        You know I had a dream about us once
         And we were up on the roof
        I was afraid to sit on the edge
           But I did it any way
I've listened close for any sign of moment of betrayel in your camp

But not so much as a scratch from a mouse

All I see is your power

Your strengh

Your unwavering courage

As wind billows through your tall bright banners

Always a thousand reasons why not

With only one reason why


If I never would have read your words I never would have known
How you can spill black couldrons of malice, but show beauty still
You can open up the sky with your words
Build a storm in its belly
But still feel pitty if it rains down on me

I can feel your combat boots

On my front teeth

At my groin

Snapping my ribs

Still even then, you reach down for a kiss

Write every chance you get,
there aren't many.

Write when you
have a quiet moment
by yourself.

Write when you
are
in
the
queue;
life is about waiting.

Write when you are in bed;
take your pen
and
close your eyes.

By morning
you will have forgotten
more poems than you have written
but
you will still be a writer.

Write when you are getting a haircut;
all that hair has a story.

Write while you watch a woman.

Write while you watch a woman
lugging a rolling suitcase.

Imagine what is in there,
what is so important to her
that she must roll it around
in the darkness?

If you get the chance,
write in New York.

New York is writers writing about writers.

Write when the
most
beautiful
girl
turns around
and
gives you
heaven.

Write because heaven is costly;
heaven is elusive.

Write because heaven is rich
and know that you will be there
again.

Write because of anyways, well-****-it-thens, and don't-call-me-ever-agains.

Write when there is nothing
to write about,
there is always something
to write about.

If your writing is ****
feel freedom
instead of
disappointment.

We ****
to make space
for
reason.

What are you
trying

to do, buddy??

::his
eyes being
pulled up by
the fragile question
as two
wounds
opening
glisten::

What

are you trying

to do?