“hey you…”

“posturing is pointless
when you simply need a hug

to deny one’s own
humanity
is to deprive
that of others

the terrible fragility of every facet
of our existence
must always be considered

i know i could use a hug
and so could you

the truth of love is universal

why am i still talking?”

shuts up and hugs you

Monarch Sky

i thought
that you could see me
through the lens
which rend your heart

the foment
of foreboding heed
that sought
to play your part

with every waning
flaxen tide
thus waxing
unquashed tears
comprised
of unseen sorrows
as they fall
into arrears

this blood yields not
to yarrow
‘neath the fields
of monarch sky

the piercing
of your arrow’s wound
seals fast
our love’s demise

Petaled Trails

once
i walked
a lone procession

in the blossoming
wake of a cherry
bloom daydream

lost
in thought
as threnodies
cried peals
of Zeus’wrath

helpless
in a gaze
transfixed

counting down
each drowning
footstep

tread upon
tremulant flesh
yet shone anew

as our minds
fell behind
racing hearts

failing
to bridge
the frigid waters

on that day
when i long held
truth

as the subtle sky
absconded
with your song

Love Most Valid

arid mist
of rhapsodic
waxing

long sought
to dismantle
the essence
only to reveal
its Gestalt

assigning
attenuous tenets
composed of pretense

to valence
resigned

but love validates
existence
through open commune
of fluid mind

with trust
respect and
shared silence

nascent intimacy
airs triumphant

while astute observation
inherently deferent
endures

for these are the matters
of consequence revered

Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

Find a Way

do or don’t
it doesn’t matter

all the world’s will
yet won’t

try your best
or give up trying

don’t deny
that both are
moot

should you stay
or should you go

you shouldn’t
have to ask
to know

that
every woman
every man
and every fate
is ever damned

for love
will find a way
it’s true
to court
the death of me
and you

As Sorrows Bleed

meet me
where the shadows drift
apart
from who we are

where waning tides
reveal the rift
that weeps
into the stars

wrap me
amid layers
of a long
forgotten kiss

our voices
led astray
upon the solace
of your lips

shake me
to the rhythm
of our innocence
denied

pray not let us
fall
into a conscious
state of lies

for all
this world
has proven
naught
but torment in reprise

and so
we take our leave
as sorrows bleed
for you and i

Shades of Pompeii

somewhere
along this wayward
path

i lost
the sum
of you

in broken
buttons

crumpled
papers

whispers

faintly
promised

to reflections

we once
bared

scattered
over trails
capricious

memories
thread precious
pleas

plotting
their escape

like petty fools
from plighted faith

parched
from implore

upending
thoughts

would mark
the path

that led me
to your vested
heart

when vagrants
sought
the stars

and charted
the descending
hours

of our last
reverie

rapt
in such despair

’til all
that i could
see

were driftless
streaks
of blackness
stripped

amid
the grip
of shame

unearthed

where flashing
shades
of pompeii

stayed
in grim dispart

impressed
upon

the distant
sky
estranged

a world
apart

Nothing Matters

I stay up too late
Never get enough rest
But I don’t give a fuck

Give me all
Of the salt and butter
Sugar and fat
It doesn’t mean shit to me

Fill me up with pills
Pills pills pills pillls
Pills
I need to stop
Existing

I will fuck everything up
Beyond that which seems humanly possible

I amaze myself at times
Others would be amazed too
If they knew

How much I loved you

When the Hour Fell Bleak

when the hour fell bleak
a rippling spied
the outlier

appearing
in ragged reproach

an artifact without
precedence
that spoke of adoration
dire

ere a doting hope
sang
its parting prelude

from where i now sit

in a cold eclipse
of dreariness
laced
with mistled tears

spent aloft
these long planes
of bondage

i fondly resigned

my mind’s production
flashing its garish marquis
for all to see

foreshadowing
disparity profound

were it not sustained
by wispy druids
of pigment piqued

no further
query

averted eyes
trained vigilant

this chronicle
of maddened youth

swore your rigid head
invalid

with never more
truth
scorned a lustful red

as prideful irony
now reigns
in the void
of expectation

Rogue Reminisce

shadows crept
the length
of disquietude

distilled
in the wonder
of our willful dearth

lumbering
through morass

when last we plundered
this scorching earth

she blindly scrawled
three bold runes

that burn yet
still
within
this piteous pith
of tormented ruin

immune
to time’s retelling

they rave and revel
in a rogue reminisce

Thy Beauty

thy beauty,

prosody
to parchment

petaline
pan silvery waves

as time
forgets
to squander

the frailest shade
peculiar
of a vespertine avail

assailing
listless seas

sweet aureate
avolens

how verily
i doth adore
thy sighing wells
of svelte
pretense

Your Goodbye

amid desecrated ruin
of barren thought

echoes
sing
your goodbye

still

i hold on
to a memory
I had
never known

far too long

as these stolen
hours come
to light

and life
knocks me back
down

where the screams
of windswept dreams
give way
to muted
mountains

of martyrdom

This Latent Lament

your words
are the sinister fire
that burns
truth
through holes
in my head

with thoughts
that forever conspire
to spurn the unheard
consequence

i look to your kingdom
of ire
to learn
of my lost relevance

with hope
i may someday
retire
from churning
this latent lament

the days
of conflict
and desire
were earned
but would never
be spent

this love
once so fervent
and dire
returns now
to fine
sediment

[Photo: Mary Pickford]

Final Frame

i awaken
into dream

the essence so precise
a place
i know so well
it seems

this feeling
permeates every aspect
of my being

where i can
never again
expect
to be

time has turned

forbidden
spurned
forlorn

for the life
of me

i cannot
discern disparity

alas

my conscious mind
soon finds
the glass rift

as what was once
life shifts

the past
sight amiss

all is ripped
from this fervid grasp

in that fleeting
final frame

of perfect
freedom

forsaken

Our Illusion

i framed
our illusion

with fleeting peals
of idealized
allusion

a restless zeal

lavishly adorning
lucid visions
elusive

so obscenely ornate

even
the great daydreamers
shuddered

hushed
beneath clouds
of shamble

wept shadows

shed
without shame

Ode to Scutty’s Buns Revisited

mister scutty.

buns.

mine eyes take to sea
draped in black damask

ask, upon what merit

to what do i owe
thy fine mask of sinew

in shadowed remorse
i lay vexed

exquisite.

a freedom formed
born of toilsome task
such winsome,
this ass

grasping in folly
i falter, forlorn
this finest of fannies
far more than fixed eye
could e’er hold candle to

sand doth sift
and so shifts time

o buns of golden mote
i dote on this fire
to hold what is naught
but a phantom fandango
so taut with transgressions
in visions foretold

foreboding alabaster sheath
aglow
no, asunder
plundering depths
taste tears of sallowed vitae

were strength as a flower
this truth, seed and all
should fall as the hour
when tower doth beckon

thy buns!
thy buns!

o scutty!
skyward flesh effused
obfuscated realms of sordid sanctity

below is a shifting
uplift yea!
uplifting

muted trepidation
threat or compliance

lo, golden buns of stardust waver

o scutty!
buns that scintillate liquescent
‘neath the moonlight’s tremble

in cries of haute

wielding scepter

In Layman’s Days

in layman’s days
sorrow yet reigns
in remnants
of our love’s refrain
disseminating
through these veins
like silken web
to dying flame
a sallow face
of shallow waste
e’er haunts the gallows
hollow space
as wraiths in fallow fields
yet reap the harvest
of a heart’s disgrace
none can replace
the solace lost
absconded by
the albatross
e’er perched atop
the arch of Eden
bound by freedom’s
final cost
where pandered woe
bleeds disarray
sleeves brandishing
a heart of clay
turned languid
from the anguish
of exsanguination
on display