I want pleasure. Mother's milk and rock me gently to dreams. I want laughter and kisses and wine and lovers dancing naked in midnight's full moon who make me think I matter.
She seems so real and perfect I want to be with her forever. Don't take an ice pick to my brain. Please don't make me better. Let us live our wonderful life in my head. Why ruin true love as rare as it is?
It's like holding your own heart. Doubt beats metronome like in me. I've never seen a miracle. It's fiction, not fact. My fables faded over time. Santa died. Easter Bunny died. Tooth fairy died. Mommy died. Love finally died inside doubt.
The plans are everywhere. How to live the American Dream. Be born on her soil in projects or mansions. Tame your anger like a stallion and ride it hard chasing the dream forever until you rope and tie it. Live it.
These nuthouses are full of sad stories. My heart bleeds for our circumstance. Sad is all. When they asked about you I said she's right as rain, a perfect wife. They said you were dead. They lied and put me in a room full of dark. Bury her in my shadow if you find it.
I was obsessed with you back then. I can't remember your naked body or eyes or voice that was music or your fragrance or thighs and all. You're a lovely piece of memory. I miss the rest of you. I loved you.
I'm your king. I wear your crown of thorns. My throne is broken hearts. My scepter is lovers' lies. I wear a robe of bruises. My kingdom is your heartbeat.
I was searching for TP at Walmart. I turned into the frozen aisle and my heart told me this woman in this flowing revealing dress was the reason I was born.
Sometimes you fall in love in an instant. It happened twice so far.
Life is indifferent to our pain. It weaves too many tales to know when our heart breaks or pet dies. You care about me. I care about you. We're small gods on our tiny altars. We share tears and laughter and grave.
They trust our blind allegiance to their lies. We will bury them with their own arrogance. Forget your petty differences with the world. We're in a lifeboat, the Titanic ******* us down.
I'm lost in the dark ink black room. A single candle lights my way as I walk from room to room looking for broke levers or jammed gears of fear. A tiny flame tries to die in the wind. My psyche is vast, with desire and sin.
I'm 71 tomorrow and I'm losing ground. I still run but slow. I lift less weight. I know we die in increments. I don't want to live forever and watch my friends die. I'll take my turn and go on time. I hope to see Bailey settled in her own nest.
We hunger for our own kind. Ordinary people touch us not. I yearn for the broken and bent like me. We color outside lines. We are on a spectrum invented by some cog in the wheel of boring.
We're on the beach while the sun surrenders the horizon to the Harvest moon. I'm stunned by the display. My world is swallowed by saints who sin for sinners.
Do you know the answer? Do you even know the question? We're all just dumb beasts of burden when all is said and done. I want pleasure where I find it. I'll pay the wages of sin for it. I'll betray Christ for the silver or hand God to the atheists for an hour with a pipe or needle. Don't hate me for my addictions.
I loved each of you with all my heart. You were my fierce light in the dark corridor that is my life. I treasure each touch, smile and secret we shared. You were my favorite. You always are. You were all just as broken as I was.
The sun looks angry today. Harsh shadows are everywhere. Winds are kicking up and fires are running wild. Pity the wildlife. Abandon your homes in the hills and hope the brave can save you.
Laborers in ties tending computers. 9th floor and paper airplanes out the window. Benny Boo night shift games with Joe and Rick and Bill. Candy machine our pinata. We clutch our essence desperate not to be cogs.
Buildings stand shoulder to shoulder like giants ready for battle. The rich live in ivory towers. The rest live in concrete boxes in this city of extremes. Our hearts beat faster. Our desires burn hotter. We live with blind eyes and silent protest as atheists **** God with science and formulas while we light candles and put coins in a box.
The clocks all move backwards. tock tick. My skin is parchment and my heart beats in slumber quiet as a mouse. I might have died last night. I was old and palsy struck. I don't think anyone is ever ready to die.
We were giddy with the promise of war, adventure of a lifetime after all. We were boys on men's threshold. We saw our generation explode in ****** mist and die like fish on shore with the mustard gas. Broken men returned home and never could love or forgive again.
Zoot suit, straight jacket, Tuxedo. We are what we wear. Rock, paper, scissors. Hoodlum, insane, sophisticated. Prison, asylum, penthouse. *****, *****, ****.
Why was the Zoot Suit banned? This exacerbated racial tensions, as Mexican American youths wearing the zoot suits were seen as un-American because they were deliberately ignoring the rationing regulations. The Zoot Suit Riots are commonly associated with the Sleepy Lagoon ******, which occurred in August 1942.
I've fought this war with me in flooded rat infested trenches I die in me over and over and all I see is barbed wire blood. I want victory but will accept a truce. Pride tears me apart.
Don't bother. I'll just break my own heart. I always do what's necessary to keep me in misery. I'm just a country music song. Pickup and boots and flask and goodbye!
I drop my frozen tears into my cup of wine for comfort. I pray for your soul and visit you often at your grave to share gossip and heal my heart just one more time.
She always had a place in her heart just for me. I don't know why but she never judged me. She had me and my ***** wife stay at her mansion open arms. She knew things about my life I was too young to know. My war torn father had PTSD anger I was too young for. She was gentle and kind. She knew things I never knew.
You seem to hate me. Have we met? You call me horrible names and wish me dead. I'm not a ****. Have we met? I reach out. [email protected] Dare to touch my soul and talk to the devil you think I am. Let's be friends.
Grandma taught me everything I know that really matters. Irish to her boots. She was kind to everyone, never spoke ugly and took me to special places. We took the El to the track. She showed me ways to win and ways to lose. We stopped for ice cream before we went to her bar full of friends. They all fussed over me and filled me to my top with Cherry Cokes. I never saw such happy people again. We caught the last train home and she tucked me in bed and kissed me night. She said life's a pie full of comedy and tragedy. Eat it all and you'll die happy. She died. I laughed when I kissed her bye.
Maybe it's my insecurity or your indifference. We pretended as long as we could but our true selves had to break out from the masquerade. Bared **** at the party. Wasn't that my show?
Strung out full of needle marks still proud defiant and sneering with black teeth and bag of bones you say "*******". So I go away. I come back in the morning. You're gone to emergency or morgue? I try to find you for our kids' sake. We love you but we can't compete with ******.
They were bigger than life and moved mountains to bend time and possibility for a future we never imagined. They're long gone but we still know e=mc2. We all orbit around sun and God might or might not be dead.
Crown of bobby pins and bandana, she hoists a beer bottle scepter, dime store paste royal necklace, moth holed sweater Queen's cape, her well worn lawn chair throne. She keeps watch from her tower, surveys her realm on Alcott Lane. Nothing escapes the queen's watch.
I still see you in the garden strong and bent over tearing weeds from the fragile flowers keeping our children safe. We're Jews in Berlin in 1938. A dragon's breath is on our necks. A crooked cross beckons to nail us to some wooden hatred.
I was born in the deepest winter storm. Made by God's own children I was packed strong and given heart and brain and courage. I was destined for great things but couldn't move. I knew the meaning of life and was God's voice. I was mute and by summer I was forgotten.
You were glorious and spectacular more fun than a barrel of monkeys a thrill a minute with roller coasters and Ferris wheels and side shows, cotton candy and near beer to persuade dates to the tunnel of love and a kiss or 2.
Now the splendor is just rusted iron and rotted wood and peeling paint and graffiti and broken windows. We live old and fat and bald in misery we got used to long ago. We ride this Beast in terror and thrills to our bitter ends.
The Beast was a roller coaster of immense proportions!
I have nightmares and dreams. I hope for the best and fear the worst. I'm just one of God's creatures in a zoo called my mind. Walls everywhere I can't go beyond. Gravity, time, our biology keep me inside my tiny world tethered to my appetites. Will death set me free? I live again in nightmares and dreams.
Life's a carnival, a festival and a tragedy and comedy in one pie. It's a terrifying and wild roller coaster and that first time in the deep end when you thought you'd never find another breath but did. It is lost time in the bumper car ride at Coney. It's kissing grandma's corpse goodbye.
Look into the sun. War makes billionaires. Puppet dictators make billionaires. Slave wages make billionaires. Addictions make billionaires. Bought politicians make billionaires.
Look into the moon. Most of us are fools who live by rules. We wear denim and flannel and pray to God Almighty. We buy a suit off the rack to wear to weddings and dances and funerals. We'll be buried in it. We eat casseroles and drink cheap beer. We stink from the work we do. We laugh as hard as anyone, maybe more. You'll find us pinching pennies at Walmart. We just have one spouse from high school and we sleep in the same bed and cuddle.
Look into the abyss if you can stand it. It's pitch black. Blinded by the sun or just sick to death of truth's brutality? Buried in forever midnight.
Noun, adjective and impossible to be is normal. It makes us hide our nervous tics and twitches. I have panic attacks and breakdowns and need pills, ***** and endless lovers to feel normal. I see shrinks and dealers for the drugs offered. I'm a one trick pony that wears out welcomes.
I knew I'd break again. It was just a matter of time. The insane monster inside of me drives me mad. The whole **** thing needs to be destroyed and buried deep inside my psyche. We all live with these beasts in our heads. It whispers, "I don't live normal like everybody".
You bring the casket and I'll bring the corpse. Wear black and arrive drunk on love. We'll drive a Hearse to the graveyard and howl at a full moon until the 6 foot hole demands its sacrifice. We put her in easy and sprinkle dirt with a prayer and send her away. We finally buried the past.
Ghosts can linger too long and keep you from moving on into a new life. Bury the past.