Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Snail Mail Blues

I loved you before I knew you.
Reading the words you have written.
Tickled by verse, my want grew.
Covert, I'm well-hidden, smitten.

Too many letters cast aside.
Billet-doux, never delivered;
Sealing a note, narrowed my hide.
Not able to breathe, I quivered.

Postage, always due, never paid.
The carrier has gone postal.
Distance too far, apart we've laid.
My messages too close to stall.

Now, with a telegraph, I cast
Into the atmosphere, so vast.
My, oh my myopia
In my natal state,
My scope strained
To differentiate
Colours and shapes

As I grew up
In my household confines,
The television pane
Presented my window to the world.
Conceptualized by cliche
I was in a masturbatory bliss
Before I knew of such a thing.
Stimulated visually
By the appliance that babysat me.

Shapes defined as letters,
Symbols, and words;
The pages of a book
Came to frame
My outlook.
A sordid affair took place
Under my sheets, sneaking
Moments with the texts,
That I kept pressed
against my chest,
And graciously
I received.
Ideas inseminated
My feral young mind.

My first, true
Love, cast aside
For flashing lights,
Instantaneous results,
And a plethora of
Other vices.
Draining my sight,
In my addiction.
I realized I want
Something more.

It's amazing,
The difference
Two pieces of glass
Can make.
It can:
Refocus my world,
Show me to lost loves,
Allow my eyes to see
Everything blissfully.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

We throw what holds our feet into air
Knotted together
Aiming to never grip the ground again
Strings crossed with our tongues tied
Wired souls strung up in the sky
Showing where the good stuff is

Fourteeners: Howl, Honey, Howl

There's no way I could forsake the hair that grows on my face.
In weather like this I hold nature, firm in my embrace.
Always, I tend to get tangled in all that is wild.
Serious fervor overtakes me, beauty beguiled.

Beckoned by her warmth she lures me into a state of dream.
Nightmares imminently arise; her cold, not shown, now seen.
Bursts of cold air quickly forgotten with a cool smile.
Sun-soaked cheeks reveal starry teeth, with a moon-fueled style.

Night and day differences to which, you cannot set a clock.
Such polarity, such dedication, observers mock.
Always in the present, jovial, our life is a gas.
Not looking forward or back, never heeding what has passed.

It is our nature, eternally, it is our being.
Bittersweet it tastes, complacent dumb love, there's no fleeing.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Rub hand sanitizer on that stigmata.
Smile through the sting and bear it;
Shake hands and wave to the world.
The mephitic scent of Mephistopheles
Wards off the contamination of hundreds.
Words intoxicate more than any high or drunk;
Detox denied minds have no hope for a dredge.
One helluva whale, you high, holy roller
Drowning us with all sorts of spirits.
Keeping us at your table, on your chairs,
Above all, in your pocket.