Wanna see my many painful realities?

my empty, metallic uncertainies,

the way I’ve cooled by fooled degrees,

how I can’t scrub away my memories,

You deserve not one of these,

wishes I’ve whispered silently,

Me, and all my blackened dreams,

my hopelessly unraveled heart strings,

my deeply embedded insecurities,

my faulty hardheaded instabilities,

the saltiness I spit into the breeze,

has all my shit quite ill at ease,

the truth will keep me on my knees,

foretelling handmade calamities,

these recollections that are killing me,

the days I’ve blazed away halfheartedly,

you’re finally dead and gone to me,

carried long beyond my reach,

I’m just waiting for the thing,

the next eclipsed sunrise will bring,

all my sleepless nights foreseen,

all my words with no meaning,

all my deep depressions and misery,

my outbursts and lack of identity,

what superficial, superpowered inhumanity,

constant sense of impermanence and impropriety,

a silence inside the core that screams,

a violence that wounds me perpetually.

Face Plant

How much of our lives
Will become simply archives
How many more times
Will I forfeit what’s mine
With every passing night
Feeling homesick at twilight
Being anxious and uptight
Can’t say or do anything right.
And the moments still tick by
We both curse the same night sky
Before one of us will recognize
All the ways we jeopardize
The shot we had to eternalize
Has lost the chance to materialize.
And I wish we could rewind
Go back and redefine
We both tow an identical line
Attached to an internal deadline
Born of a universal design
That will eventually unwind.


I once told you I hoped that you wouldn’t chase,

the path made by my footprints as I ran away,

not to follow my feet as they endlessly tread,

places called “home” in my paranoid head,

your eyes used to follow my eyes,

As they darted about the night skies,

you’d trace a pinky down my cheeks,

Down the trails from tears deemed obsolete,

do not follow my confused insanity,

into the cursed forest of ancient trees,

I don’t want you to see as I mindlessly carve,

indecipherable messages into their bark,

I‘d rather that you might remember times,

when I still held a more lucid state of mind,

as I was back when I first asked of you

to someday cut me completely loose,

back when my feet could not yet carry through,

with any of the deeds that I still have to do,

do not falter in those old promises now,

you must override your heart, somehow,

you must stifle the desire you’ve come to feel,

to follow me into the darkness of Hell,

I’d rather you carry on in the warmth of the sun,

to pick up, dust off, and carry on,

Past all the times that your foolish pride,

had you believing that we were solidified,

but it’s time to defy what we feel inside,

just let go and let yourself bleed for a while,

the loss will fade eventually,

same as my footprints into the trees,

you must finally stop any pursuit of me,

and let me self-fulfill this unwell prophecy.





I have been,

and hearing you…
your every cent or two,
every jerking move,
and yet you prove…
to somehow be,
totally and completely,
shocked to find…
blackened faces,
fill up the spaces,
between the lines…
Hello, big guy!
I will be fair,
I won’t deny,
through my grandeur…
what did,

appear and seem,
to be,
a valiant try…

for your part,
at least
but, then again,

it’s still just,
without compromise,
and really shouldn’t be,
such a novel thing,
that I’m not listening,
after so much,
of the go and touch…
the itchy sting,

fucking redundancy…
see the burning,
behind my eyes,
see the hatred,

please just let me be.
As, so it goes that,
eyes like mine,
chiseled by,
the passing time…

are not destined to see.

Still Learning.

I got the Adrenaline spin,
not sure
which is the right direction
the thoughts that begin
to swim
inside my imagination

I do the ADHD thing,
heart weighs in heavily
sweat pours down steadily
my thoughts race ahead of me

I have scars for all to see,
they fixed me
a return from captivity
a recovery
a horror film slashing
just as the final pint

I have a heart that’s still learning,
I’m trying
a desire to indulge in humanity
to connect with someone like me
a daydream
a baby of Lithium, Ritalin and Dexedrine.


It was ultimately for naught,

my face tattooed by bird-shot,

an undeniable blanket of doom,

an indefinable pain in the womb,

It was the robbery of things,

my things; weaseled away from me,

stolen from me in my deepest sleep,

secretly spilling the oaths that I keep,

crumbling away the loosened layers,

that block the pathway to my nightmares,

it was the ending of good things,

the increase of physical pain,

our thing just began surely fade,

beyond the recognizable state,

things agreed to in former times,

come back around to materialize,

smacked with back of an outstretched palm,

that threw a desperately driven smoke bomb,

the palm that bears the dead to the tomb,

the palm of the hand you refused to hold onto.

Warning Shots.

Click. Spin. Click.
First warning shot:
don’t say,
anything to me…
your words,
cut and slash,
my skin invisibly…
Click. Spin. Click.
Number two for you:
it’s about,
the powdery,
kegs full and ready,
to explode,
beneath my feet…
Click. Spin. Click.
Number three:
when I swear,
on everything,
dear to me,
to make my way,
my own blaze,
of my own glory…
Click. Spin. Click.
Last kind gesture:
if you’re smart,
if you can see,
the truth,
the far reach,
of little ol’ me.


They all stared at me

eyes, empty of feeling

souls, judging and cruel…

rows upon rows of darkened holes

hollowed out eyes of dolls

crusted and crumbling from stucco…

this building is home to ghouls

ghostly spirits of the dead

the Doppler effect of a moaning cry…

overhead, the lights stop burning

the darkness becomes complete and I succumb

falling downward into your embrace…

into your hollowed place

your emptied promises and gluttonous lies

let us go there and not come up…


I, indeed,
vividly recall,
the magic
of it all
the tragic
end result
the headlong
and fatal fall
the sad songs
the postered walls
the easiness
that came with it all
I carry
of many things
the days you
let me “be”
the way you
behaved so
how you tried
so hard to
show to me
the rule-card
the cue cards
of being free
the things we said
the times we had
the first time
the last time
the good
and the bad
the night you
decided to
move on alone
I will never
forget to
the dead.


Dribbling down the screen,
separating everything,
a permanent blood stain,
that warps my visibility
A richly colored stream,
dark reddish burgundy,
oozing and seeping
through spaces between
Raining bloody rivulets,
covering all the surfaces,
I am very sure of it,
it’s got me on my knees
Gods help me…
and if they’re too busy,
let the devil be,
the one to answer me.


We never love them,
those flickers of,
Life’s candlelight,
when we get them,
nano-seconds in Love,
in the present tense,
in all its fickleness,
we fail to look deeply,
beyond the warmth,
of such selfishness,
we fail to recognize,
so we sit stupidly,
as nano-seconds,
swim right on by,
like robotic drones,
it is foolishness,
how soon we forget,
our very own,
flesh and bone,
where we came from,
childhood homes,
for we are not,
not a single one,
born to those,
with voices, drowned,
neither did we,
bore the woes,
Of Royalty,
donning the crown,
of the overthrown,
in the halls of the dead,
in the heads of the gone,
we will stand as one,
to the depths,
from the heights,
stars and sun,
days and nights,
like statues set in stone.

Pushing Buttons.

You honestly thought,
that my DNA forgot,
the dealer of
such a lethal drug?
When you’ve
got me tethered,
weathered and wrought;
and you’ve
got me pleasured,
treasure the thought;
say you didn’t mean,
to imply anything,
through the carelessness,
of your pretentiousness,
When you’ve
got me all twisted,
insistent on foolishness;
and you’ve
still persisted,
pushing buttons like this.

Sweat-Stack Prophecy.

After all that’s been said and done or not done,

they actually wonder what’s struck me so dumb,

perhaps I should’ve sent a universal memorandum,

to describe what’s been specified –

by the tribe where I come from;

when the shamans beat their’ drums,

and the forest sighs sweetly, and hums,

beckoning wakefulness to our Oldest Ones,

and as each awakens, a foundation gets shaken –

they can sniff out who doesn’t smell strong;

I only want to defy right here, under the sky –

close my heavy eyes and let it all be finally done;

I look around never to find anyone,

I have grown weary of trying to be strong,

my spirit rebels in a temper tantrum,

don’t chafe my hands, leave me just as I am,

I’m blessed and I’m cursed all in one.






What does this woman want?

She wants to be secure,

wants to be assured,

wants to feel beholden,

to bring warmth to the touch of her master;

And, what does the man want?

He wants to greedily admire,

wants to be twice as admired,

wants to burn eternal,

to forever sizzle within at the sight of his object;

The equation seems simple,

closeness shall draw the rest together, in turn,

a man and a woman are natural companions,

the admiration one holds for the other,

is not enough – has never been enough,

will never be enough to purge,

from the spirit of the man,

or from the soul of the woman,

the sapling that lies within the belly of both,

grown from the seed of Lust and Blood,

one, the child of Fear and Jealousy,

the other, born to War and Desire,

now together – now ripped at the seam,

the dark hours are the battleground,

on which we strike our most memorable,

and powerful of blows,

to behold the single rogue,

sweat drop as it defiantly rolls

from your brow down the bridge of your nose

and disappears in the corner of my eye, as usual.



Why must there suddenly be,

so much daunting irony,

out of thin air, magically,

from nowhere, seemingly;

faceted edges glittering,

smell of engine oil burning,

a billion ions shimmering,

anywhere my eyes perceive;

materializes instantaneously,

recollected quite unexpectedly,

jaw-dropping moments of clarity,

from the mirror and back at me;

long-standing silences in between,

questions I’ve posed so desperately,

and answers returned, in-comprehensively,

from Gods that supposedly see everything;

I, too, believe in such a possibility,

of the Gods taking pleasure in our misery,

when every day brings yesterday’s injury,

nobody can say that the Gods smile upon me.