totally.

(((J)))

a heroine on heroin
like a knife through her bladder she erupted
spilling secrets and loose change
she fell gracefully
knees buckling, eyes widening
with fear of the inevitable
she spilled her mid day coffee
lost her mid day thoughts
she never knew never knew never knew
god was there, inner city hip hop
blaring out the open windows
he was clear and open, opening oven doors
explaining how to give it up gracefully

i see you like a dinosaur in the night
oh how i want to jump on your back
whisper in your ear
and leave this barren place
i wish i could trust you enough
to not even ask where we were headed
to just let you run free
with my eyes closed
and my hair whipping ’round
our open and happy faces

the cars roar and spit outside our window
leaving us tired and confused in their wakes

i remember the first time i saw your hooded face
and you my covered body
now, years later, with our fingers touching
we drown out the traffic with our smiles
our strawberry lit features so complimentary
yet still worlds away from peace
your scales ripping pieces of my bone white flesh
my talons digging holes in your sides
though i can still hear you over the rumble
and you don't mind telling me twice

so many love letters, yet no love words in sight
except for the most simple of terms…goodnight

You are THE guy! Miss you, cheese!

She was never one
for fancy candies.
Boxes of chocolates
failed to tempt her,
as she never knew what was contained
behind the sweetened outer layer,
what sensations
would flood her mouth.

Instead she preferred
freshly-baked cookies,
hot from the oven,
perfectly-shaped beauties
that would burn her tongue,
or days later,
warmed from ten seconds
in the microwave
(artificial warmth, that is,
home reheated,
her tongue could not tell
the difference).

It was the same
with men.

She loved them
if she knew
where they stood,
nevermind
if they stood
on her fingers.

The ones who might
respect her,
she didn’t bother herself with.

At least with the ones she chose,
she knew
how they’d hurt.

Isaac, I had to reactivate just to tell you that this rocks

Dearest (((H)))

I appreciate
your appreciation
of the unsuspecting spectacular,
of self-sustained and self-indulgent worlds
where tonics with good-quality gin,
ethnic foods and philosophical debate
become the marbled statues
of weekday gods.

Even your mundane
is magnificent.

Only you could make
religion
of train rides through Europe,
of Virginia forests and
Louisiana nowhere,
these clockwork retreats
that mark you a messiah
to those of us
less daring.

Your gift to me,
wrapped in a friendship that
has grown into a dependable,
and tested adulthood,
is
a Sunday afternoon with the windows open,
the newspaper blanketing the kitchen table,
a moment to enjoy and appreciate
flowers
otherwise unacknowledged.

Thank you

Jason
jimz
ddn
pkd
Harold
Bill

(((H)))

The orange pill makes the bed
a trapdoor. I’m swallowed by the
floor into dreamless sleep.

The night is an unnerving
tunnel of lost time. This life
is a spongiform brain. Six hours
drain away.

It’s time travel. My legs waver
when I wake and stand. Thoughts
unravel. There’s the blue light before
dawn, a mariner’s mirage of land.
Anything could’ve happened
when I was gone. My feet

are out of place on the floor.
The door swings as I list and
catch the wall. In the hall
there’s long exaggerated blinking. I’m
sinking back. The drug’s still
soaking cells. Each morning

I look back at the pit, sit on the
porch, watch the people drive to work.
Each day’s a picture with holes in
it. Nights awake have been
excised. With the evening pill
I ask “Is this better? These hours
the mind dies?”

do we really see the world with our eyes?
and if it is true, how they fail us so.
can we truly comprehend the beauty behind a smile
or the love in a deep clear stare
only by seeing?
can eyes report back the love that is found
in the pressure of a kiss?
can vision detail the softness
of skin in a gentle embrace?
can they see the love there?
can eyes see without certain knowledge
of its presence, any love at all?

Thank you

RED
Mom
Lex
H
pkd

Message in a Bottle

I am timidly circling you
learning each curving part
that forms the plain-clothed normal
you do not realize is more
so much more dazzling
than even the most sparkling star

I wander along your pathways
marveling at the paintings
that litter your souls quiet dignity
and unmitigated beauty
so stubbornly you insist
that you are not something lovely

I peek under your covers
and giggle when you blush
thinking I will see you less
when I truly see you more
my heart is growing
my slip is showing

I tickle along your tunnels
and slide into your heart
so gentle is your weeping
and you thought that I was sleeping
In dreams you keep me sheltered
awake you keep me warm.

I weave myself along your borders
and wait for you to become accepting
that I am here for a reason
I have been waiting so very long
will you finally find me
and claim me with a kiss?

I am sitting on the edge of your cupping
my dimple belongs to you
though it is shyly sighing
hoping you might linger
just a moment more on my face
so she might bring you close.

I am dancing on your finger
awaiting your touch like wind-song
who now will do the naming
the sweet and gentle feeling
it’s about time you understood
I have already named you mine.

LOL Wiz! "it"...

let me note that SHE is, in fact, a HE.

also, how often do you post your work here? that's what i thought. when your creativity is threatened, please feel free to speak up.

But who are you to judge that?