28 January, 2013


My coffee keeps getting cold
As I try to melt the sour stone
That shifts uncomfortably
In the bottom of my stomach.
I'm aching for Mango,
To spin up the volume,
Buds in each ear, and just
Let it scream to me a lullaby.
What else can calm me,
On a day like this?
I'm antsy and trapped and
Lacking enough air-
My arms prone to throw and
My thoughts bouncing unchecked.
Chords beg to vibrate,
To let out as loud a stroke
As my lungs will allow.
And here, behind my eyes,
This pressure keeps building
And building.
Can I do this, day to day?
It's not constant-
But still, can I cope?
Is this feasible?
Everything makes me angry;
This is simply not my Monday.
I'm hot and I'm hungry.
I'm lonely yet long to be alone.
I can hardly wait-
I'm craving my reprieve,
My own, my solitude.
I'm sweating and sad.
I'm outside and in.
I'm jittery and impatient;
So what do I do now?

17 January, 2013

Ebony and Onyx

Which is worse?
To ask of life,
Or of death?
No, I tell freely,
I had no right-
But how can it be said
That I'm the one here
Who is messed up?
True though may it be,
Us two are pot and kettle,
Driven each, perhaps, by
Our own self-hatred.
Ebony and Onyx,
Both consumed by
Disgust for the other.
To each their own-
Less bothered am I
By those who sin
In another way from mine.
But constantly irksome
Are those that sin the
Very same, yet pass
Judgment on me.

15 January, 2013


Meant to be good news
But now it fills my mind
With hope or dread?
Hit it again, hold it in.
Keep your eyes unclosed.
Will I regress, as
Already I have been?
Once more enslaved,
A servant to dreams?
These words are
Only words-
Where do we truly live?
Is it only flesh?
Or at night do we
Become monsters as in
"This heart is where you truly live! This heart! Here! This flesh is only flesh!"
My skin is stretched
And scarred, my face
Is stressed and plain,
My hair is frizzy
And sticks out at odd
Angles, and my glasses
Are broken because I am
Stupid and careless.
It's said to break a mirror
Gives seven years' bad luck,
But so much reflection-
Won't it destroy the soul?

12 January, 2013


"It was my hand that sent her to the stars. It was the hand of him that loved her best, the hand that of all she would herself have chosen, had it been to her to choose"

So many places I find
In which I might utilize
This contextual, essential,
Old and underused quote!
Upon its discovery by
Lowly little me,
Very nearly my heart wept
With open honesty-
So often I realize, that which
I long to describe has, before
My very existence, already been
Construed to the letter,
If without the exact circumstance
That surrounds my very being.
This is the stuff of dreams!-
Whether truly it is want,
Or if instead my hidden madness
(Although the extent to which
It is secret remains questionable),
Either of these or something else,
Still I strive for understanding
And still I uncover the long-ago
Written sentiments that are alive
This very day, so long after an
Author's death, after anyone
Might truly recognize the reference.
But this one captures fully
What took place in a dream:
That full trust that I crave,
The sincerity that I need!
Once upon a sleep,
When fire and blades
Were my allies...
And the wielder?
Perhaps always a mystery
It shall remain,
For to ask would, ironically,
Be life threatening.
Must removed my Lucy's
Head be? Must this battle
Ruefully go on?
I know of one with hope,
One that I trust with so much.
So, perhaps for now,
I simply wait and watch.

11 January, 2013


People aren't real;
They all pretend,
Some more than others.
But we all put on
A fake face and a facade.
Self-image imposed,
Projection or inflection-
Everyone is concerned
With what the world sees.
Don't they know that
Society is blind?
Their twisted sense of beauty,
An erasure of morality-
What have they all taught us?
Life is to be split,
Fiction from reality,
Yourself from your image.
What comes of this?
Heartache and confusion?
And the number one misnomer,
All this horrid censorship:
First books, some people,
What else is to be burned?
We lie in the face
Of anyone whose respect we crave.
But I still can't see
Just what is so wrong
With simply being.
Are you so awful,
So cruel and unintelligent,
Soulless and uncaring,
That you can't show your
Face to the world?
Are we a planet populated
By paper bags to veil
Our sincerest shame?
Uncover your face,
Unhide your eyes-
Open your mouth and
Spread your smile.