Sex Crazed
Retard Strong
I wish I had a brain. I wish I was special. No Control.
hello.
I hope the world still spins for you all.
moral is low but expectations are high.
work and working is collectively kicking my ass.
not much news tonight.
enjoyed my chemical romance much more than i thought i would. even though
not my favorite band, they put on one hell of a show.
oh yeah, the title of the new book of poetry and prose is:
"my ghosts suddenly gone after getting used to the haunting".
enjoy the crapola.
love,
captain pirateface
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a violence we cannot contain
My head aches.
God is flinging bullets into various bones in my body.
Winter is taking my wimpy little soul apart.
A dark deep gloom is pushing me into hearse filled traffic.
I guess I got to thinking too hard again.
Let me just take my finger off this button marked “atomic”
so I can scratch my head and think a while.
I love you! Take me to the sanity!
Clearly I can see clearly when I look at your eyes.
Storm clouds lift and a hazy, almost fuzzy sunshine lights my tiny world.
My flowers no longer stay hidden in bear traps.
My screams have turned to pleasant song and whispers.
Every time I close my eyes, and then open them…
You have yet to run away.
She left a note on the table
Dear John,
Fuck right o ff.
Love, Me
Keep company
The wounded homeless and squatter punks sharing stories about being dead.
Keeping together the small pieces of the fragile mind.
Dark creature eyes stare out from underneath parked cars
and low to cold 2am asphalt streets.
Gravity pulling the soul down into the feet with each heavy step.
Dark circled eyes pretending to be awake while a 18 year old street walker
rubs down hurting shoulders.
Scratching nonsense into nonsense little poems in a beat up journal.
Nobody wins at night.
God rests and the wicked have had their fill.
The rest of us wait patiently for something different,
For something else.
Goodbye little boy, I have failed you.
You wanted things I could never provide.
I fattened you up with drink and took apart your
cheery disposition with drugs and pain.
I lost you in the crowd.
Watching you wave from far away…
Tears in your eyes while wearing your “Superman” suit.
And I am still running from your kindness.
Running from the hope you once had.
If I forgot you then I would forget myself.
And I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or not.
You had the world in your hands kiddo…
Why did you have to grow up…
to be me?
Show me the day….
Meet up in the darkest part of the night.
Hold my hand.
Find some place comfortable and let all those bad thoughts fall out of our heads.
Keep each other company until daybreak.
And you can go home and forget me.
And I will pretend to forget you.
an envelope stuffed with the random thoughts that make up the whole of you.
A photograph of smiles and bright reflective flashbulbs in 110 degree weather of chrome of many colors. Goodbye notes that end with tear stains and small scribbled happy faces and the smell of one perfume and several different colognes. Half done lyrics to some love song that never filled the world with music. Lists of things needed to buy to change to get rid of, lists of men, lists of liquor for holiday parties. Poems written to and about you. Some flattering some heartbreaking some not even worth the ink used to type and write them. Pieces of paper… receipts, bills, business cards and prescriptions never filled… all with the same three words scrawled across them,
“I love you”.
Let me share this music with you.
A tinkle of ivory keys on a beautiful black aged piano.
Bony hands suffering through arthritis
and dry cracked skin.
The ripples in the water glass with every soft execution
of the fingers pressing down the keys.
A small figure outside a low window,
on a cold day turning to dusk,
ear pressed against the glass listening to sounds muffled
and bleeding through.
Something this perfect has to be forbidden somewhere.
and I am still beside you
Rooting on my own flogging.
Begging the executioner for a glimpse of her tools of the trade.
Walking so close as to almost touch hands.
Hinting at cupid to shoot us both dead with love.
Praying for an eclipse of the sun for a moment of unseen trespass
on your neck from my wandering unworthy kiss.
You almost smile but never do.
I always look to you and dream of all that you are.
But in my dreams, I smile…
And you smile right back.
Where did you go?
I can almost feel the absent figures from my life.
Ghosts suddenly vanished after I have gotten used to the haunting.
Reaching out with my fingers spread open feeling for all of you.
I stumble through the day feeling useless and crippled.
I have nothing to lean on and hold me up.
I keep stumbling and falling.
Your all not here to help me up.
And I have a feeling I should try and get used to being without you.
My ghosts whom have abandoned me.
thoughts escape me aloud when my little boy comes to mind
The look in his eyes command me.
Love me and Love for me.
Fight for me.
Win for me.
And all It takes is a glance…
I will be his hero,
Whatever it takes.
Bombs Bursting! People Screaming! Bargain Basement Whores
giving it up for free! What is this madness???
She held and cradled me in her arms.
Safe I was as the world collapsed around us.
The sky bled down into our city and all became a huge mess of horror.
Heaven denying all entry.
Angels colliding mid-air.
She looks at me and kisses my face.
I don’t care what happens next.
And we both continue to smile.
Is anybody really paying attention?
Hollering!
Screaming!
Vocal cords shred and throat bleeding.
Whispering.
Waiting.
One day someone will say:
“This is too much… this thing.”
And collectively they all will start nodding their heads stating,
“I should have known all along.”
"in heaven, everything is fine"
-lady in the radiatior-
g
o
o
d
n
i
g
h
t.
the captain
there is no fear here
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How can you save me when you can't save yourself?
"nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."
— Charles Bukowski
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."
— Charles Bukowski
1 comment:
You are so talented! I like the title of your new book.
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