Caution : A Small Shift Could Erase

The rain falls in slow motion
you can hear each drop like an explosion
on the pane of glass
there are a million tiny universes
colliding
in each splash
other worlds than this...

Stoop, Brownstone

"You don't know her, and you never will"
he said back
we had tried to cheer him up
and get him back to the Saturday mood
but some lyric set him off
"She is gone now, but I will always be chasing her. The idea of her.
Even though she is in another lovers arms."
the taxi arrived
we all were soaked
"You'll never know her"
he muttered one last time
his own mistakes had him on the rack
but a stiff drink waited
and we could make him laugh again

Brownstone Stoop

"Why are you still in love with her?"
he asked
"What did she fulfill in you?"
we were waiting for a taxi
it was raining
and I had gotten teary eyed
over the lyric from some song
"We all know you get these melancholy moods when she is on your mind"
and the others laughed and sighed
they didn't know her
and never would
"Why are you still in love with her?"
"What did she fulfill in you?"
he asked

Grown Up

Too tall a tale
she said
with drink in her hand
through smoky bar air
with one hundred
Conversations
going round and round us
100 conversations
about little lives
and real estate
and watering lawns
so they don't go brown

Born Too Late

Time travel is possible
I do it every day
step in to the past
and relive days gone by
like when I kissed you on your eyes
or when we said goodbye
we drift away now
until I'm a just mistake in your  history
you'll forget me
and I'll relive these days gone by
until I'm a barely audible sigh

Incomplete

I had them open up my skull
and take out the part of my brain that dreams
because it was out of control
running rampant
hurting the ones I love
waking me at night in cold sweats and
a panic

Brotherly Love

dirty paper cup
to the face
jingle jingle
spare change?
maybe a dollar?
dirty hands and tired eyes
rummy red
ass frozen from the cold concrete
unwashed hair
cardboard life
piss for perfume
I empty my pockets
and give up my lunch
put a check mark in my good karma column
sooner or later I'll pay off this debt

Queen Nahemah

I can feel a devil slipping
into bed beside me at night
caressing my hair
kissing and whispering sugary lies in my ear
walking hand in hand with me throughout
the day
smiling with pointed teeth
and that should answer your questions
about the scratch marks on my back
and the bite marks on my wrists

Everyday Poetry

Every morning I
pull your knife from my chest
and sew the wound shut
with thread made of anger
it doesn't hold
and eventually in the early
afternoon, a little blood
seeps through my shirt
through my now
patchwork rag doll
chest and I see fleeting concern
in peoples eyes
as they pass by
and say Hi
but never get too close
a stranger that will stay a stranger
sitting on a park bench
bleeding through his shirt
while the literary world
puts its head further up its own ass

Broken Ribs and a Cracked Skull

Light peeps under the crack in your door
it reminds you of those years
when you thought you loved me
you fight it back
and push it away
and dream a dream
of a different day
and snuggle closer to your ex new boyfriend

Vivid

I drink to forget
I smoke to forget
I read to forget
I play mindless video games to forget
I listen to music to forget
I put myself to sleep at night to forget
I write to forget
I fuck to forget
I stand at the corner of 15th and Walnut to forget
I cry in the corner of my room to forget
but my memory is too good
and all I can do is remember
and imagine

Untitled # 55

On a nightly basis
I make love to the bottle
and write in circles
I'm becoming my hero
grizzled, drunken
frustrated with the world
spewing out words constantly
these scars still burn at night
these feelings of purposelessness
a rug pulled from under my feet
I write in circles
poised on the threshold
waiting for the air to break

Results: Negative

words drawn into
the frost of the window
ask for release
from a glass prison
where everyone
can see
flowers blooming from your hair
lies spilling from you lips
your hand on you hips

Tequila Strong

cellphone chirps
shattering the silence
and the glass
he gave seven dollars
for a shot and half of it missed his mouth
shit talking
the man looks like a goblin and smells worse
everything is slow motion
knuckles connecting to jaw
bar stool breaking
splintering
ice and glass
blood and whiskey
pooling together
interesting cocktail
thumb to the eye socket
teeth to the wrist
angry drunk screams
shattering bone
obliterating consciousness
Now... who wants round two?

Nightshade

Sweet like sugar
melting on the tongue
lucidity only comes
as the sun sets
lunar light eases
pain
straightens thoughts
there is clarity
in being one thing
during the light of day
and another
by the dark of night
we all shiver in the frost
and wait for the full moon

Cold Sweats

Temperature rising
ocean air blows salt into
long sun kissed hair
music changes moods
from teary eyed lover boy
to angry ex-boyfriend
to lonely old man
poems fall like leaves from the trees
and litter the floor around the desk
words change hearts
and leave minds lost and
reeling
stealing
feelings
from novels
do any of us know who we truly are?

Saturday Night Snippet

"I'm afraid of this life
and afraid of this world."
he said
as we drank beer on a
Philadelphia balcony
"Well," I replied
"at least you're not a sex addict."

Temporalmental

Slipped past
the broken nose
and the sliced ear
dodged the booth brawl
you see things in your own
shade of grey
gray
silver
salt and tequila
i dont believe in love no more
no more
no more
i dont believe in love no more

Frustrated on Friday

I let these feelings go
to blow away in the wind
like the people who float in and out of my life
I lie to keep you next to me
I lie to keep my lies in order

Little Piles of Dirt

the left hand can see
five possible futures
three of them don't include you
they go streaming out
in front of my sight
and I can see multiple mes
and multiple yous
running in circles
racing the other rats
wasting talents
in cubicles and
water cooler conversations
and it makes my eyes water

Nails in My Skin

restless
plain
as day
these moments
of stress
tighten the chest
my hand on your
breast
and all
the rest

Saturday Morning Sleepy Eye

My brain screams broken glass
program edits my thoughts
faster than I type
blood boils
burning holes in my heart
your up draft
put me in a tailspin
and this tree house
deserted jungle island
lifestyle
makes me stir crazy with every passing second

Happy Birthday

This may be the last poem
This pen ever writes
Take my poetic voice
And seal it shut tight
Ignore the dreams
That occupy my night
And live in fear
Of my ever growing fright

Lost Blanket

I am a sexual person
filled with blind passion
and lust
If not used I turn
to dust
I am a sexual being
long for the touch
of female skin against
my own
the taste of the nape
of the neck
on my lips
the racing beat of a heart
against my own chest
I'm a sexual person
if not used
I scatter
in the wind