Pick Your Poison

Shelter's Falling Around You And I Am The Wicked Wind

I cannot help, assist, or profit.
The pit in my stomach growls to the vibration of your circumstance,
but no channel persists between our empathies.
I am so thankful for this life I have been afforded by either luck, lust, or the illusion of fate

dead to me in twos and threes,
sweet lovers' parting eulogies
ascend my faith
and break my taste,
for who could stand to tether me?
As when done drunk and cummed
seemed unusually dumb,
and the tension of terror returned,
relationships burst into suns
eclipsing the two into ones.


on the other side of charisma and good fortune lies an epiphany drenched in fevered antiquity: what was once absolute may become absurd, challenges could shift into reflections, and this tedium that drowns us might one day teach us to swim.


I lost you back there
My wife, my life
set free into the cold wind,
into this sea of faces,
surrounded by the ever-shifting
competition of indifferences.
You left me right here.
The surfacing emotions
bleed me out
into a vessel
forged in fear,
brutality, and regret.


sun beams sway hot hands away
and the hesitance seems to relate;
for a million years
you'd have found me here
until yesterday when I strayed.

No, it wont make sense in this passioned suspense,
left in stasis like hopes and requests.
now the beams have cooled
into something brand new
and i'll follow until there's none left.

compassion at the threshold of chaos

silent tea
rs fought bac
k by her nature
but i hear the s
orrow gently cr
y out...
ing still aj
ar and yet always pe
when i reme
mber that i ne
ver forgot.


There's a beast inside, a clawed type of snarl; 
like a madman unleashed to favor:

Hands are the extensions of my honor.

I reach out from old oblivions to spit,
break, and twist the tempo into subjugation.
if only to tear the shreds to pieces

Sensually swinging sins surrounding,
and she begs me to let it all end.
Pushing through the pain,
the pleasure, we've been
granted these few sacred realizations
their chance at becoming. 

No mercy! Unrelenting savagery, raw aptitude, 
and sweating bullets; the dancers circled in pace, fully bequeathed
with the tasseled jewels and swaying hips of the raqs sharqi.
United by heat, transformed by desire, and sentenced to euphoria;
we swooned like wolves in this sweat-thickened parlor by the coast,
drenched in magic, doused in light.

Inside Love and Looking Out

As though our parallel fates were conspiring to tempt and temper in cohesion,
I too saw the sun rise and fall over the heads of such primal thirsts.

It is just too fucking ironic; or perhaps, like a weighted scale
tipped in all's favor, we are still tied at the ankle.

Like a slingshot's rotation around the Earth in all this empty space,
sent rocketing through eternity by the explosive tenderness
that compensated for the damage absorbed by my tiny giant body,
I have landed in the desert after one hell of a journey, only to find utopia.

They are in love out here, and I am but a vessel.

Unending celebrations were cut short and resumed, to trumpet the irony
of the forward pull of eternity, pushing and writhing like a fetus
sent to abandon incubation... only to find utopia, in ruins.

But we built back its temples, and then summoned its gods;
shining more brightly for its charmingly apparent battle wounds,
the city lived and breathed with renewed self-amnesty.

They are in love out here, and I am but a vessel.


torch's flame
would caress my fire;
in forest's wind
i become the mulch;
points of light
like our canopy's worship;
bodies freed
set afloat by the dawn.

awkward sideways

ruined sheets moistly blanketing my pillows
while this absence opened up the same old wound.
i've heard of betrayal, like a song that's passed my way
a thousand times until its stuck inside my head

we've lost a friend, we've lost a foe
we've gained perspective and we know
that nothing quite turns out the way it should
she's got to go, she's broken so
there is no way to fight the flow
when time is cruel and misery is understood

Keeping the Mustache




Love is a tapestry of textures and moments

My Chest Is Heavy And Its Tears That Are Left

I am a heartbroken one,
Sawed apart 
Remembering you is like sweet cancer,
Smiling likeness of all these mistakes I found
Lower me into the abyss,
Every blessing is a curse in disguise
Simplicity; illusions; bleeding out,
When will there be enough for either of us?
Fucking raw,
A beast to greet the beasts 
Happiness was a game before it ended,
Contentment our burden

Love my bitter tail to bite it off
Rip my fragile hide to wear me out

So many names flutter into the wind
As a sacrifice to personality and blind sight
Needles pointed and hooked
Into my tiny writhing heart

Fire and Ice and broken and healed
All taste like bleach under my retreat
With your back to the sea then a glance away

Sealed lips part to speak further
And my ears have started to bleed

Out There

You live and breath, your heart still beats;
with skin pulled taught, red blood doth heats
the flesh of angels pulled to Earth
in demon's time. Forgotten worth
bewilders me infinitely,
I'm lost at land, you're lost at sea.

Puts Me Together (when I read your words)

The poem screams that you have run
Away to find a patch of Sun.
My barrel's loaded like you said
But it is pointed at my head.

I'll ask of you no future task,
No loaded words, no plastic mask.
No force upon you to change fates;
I wont be here to frustrate.

It feels like nails inside my skin,
My eyes are sliced by rusted tin.
If fate conspired to give peace
You'd be right here right now with me.

So if you go without a word
Into this world, beautiful girl;
I'll take the path back through the sand,
Recant my place, empty my hand.

I'm sorry for myself and you
We got fucked up, we both got screwed.
My burden's gone, so feel relief
The game of Hearts continues free
Of my impact upon your head,
Unless I'm wrong, let it be said.
The shouting stopped inside my skull;
Maybe silence is just a one-way street.
No stage lights, yet we still perform and posture
For the lonely crowd that cant clean themselves up.

If it can get better, oh dear god it can get worse.

These class broken shrapnel drunks
Are so tied up with cold lamentations
That my tireless gaze cannot dissect their hopes.
How else could a true amateur learn to sing?

This amplified rectification is a stillbirth before us.


you want from me
it picks at my scabs
im just one half of a man
who got pretty good at hiding
the scars and infected boils that
scream across my flesh all night long 

i have less to give
than i have to want
but i sure as hell dont
have the time to be wasting
here explaining why i am this way
sometimes theres no reasoning involved


Eat my heart out with a spoon.
Speak my words with no voice.
Name the fantasies after my defeat
and drain their meaning away.


tinker toy hearts beat in lego block bodies,
our etch-a-sketch thoughts float high over our heads.
all the water is whiskey, and our mouths are on fire;
when we go hide underneath the sheets on my bed.

it was warm in our fortress of cotton and fleece,
while the butterfly stomachs spoke pony-tail words.
playing house in the depths of this mansion of leaves,
sharing half-sticks of gum, telling secrets we've heard.

Silent but Deadly

your gaze has become a symbol by the skill of my hands
it sits and waits vertically
watching the traffic 

those haunting memories have dropped out of the third dimension
but at least i get to see you once and a while
although you can no longer respond
wave after wave of energy blow past my face with the force of a hammer,
and i realize that you are still running...

Uh Oh

This could get a bit hairy, I thought. I can see the sallow rings on your eyes.

You see them too... Now is when things start getting damaged, and I am left to deposit my security into something greater than the will to remain. This leaves our vision quest unquestionable, and our answers are stranded standing in the cold. No hoping heart bleeds dopamine in worthy concentrations.... 

I am but a supplement for the same.

Seeing You

I miss the taste of spoiled milk and rotten fish,
an existential stew of wounds healing awkwardly.
so what really happened? I'll never know.

Three steps in to it, then taking two steps back,
my perspective becomes as narrow as my expectations.
my stomach is churning without a tumor to reject.

When I look for something in the moment
and its definitely not there,
I feel at home

And the thoughts haven't changed at all, dear,
but perhaps they land farther apart.
They sit inside my chest as heavy as my eyes when I saw you approach.

As though my blood-stained smile had been a photograph
you crumpled up and threw in the recycling bin,
I have felt so biodegradable, but like plastic I retain my melted shape.

I was watched and yet invisible
broken but still intact
unwanted and desireless
conscious but so knocked out
drowning in the dryness of the land
with one hand to God and the other holding my pitchfork strong


Skin that doesn't stop,
excitement overwhelmed,
touch my broken claws
heal my shattered cells.

Silver Mustang

Running away from the sounds of a scream,
while echoeing laughter, its not what it seems;
don't think of worship, I don't practice things.
I already forget how i used to...

Falling forward,
looking back.
Choices honor
honest tact.

Falling asleep to the sounds of your screams,
the echoeing laughter penetrates my dreams;
I'm too high to worship these rough rotten things,
I already forget... I already forget... (how I)

Perfect timing,
calloused veil.
My coarse palms
recognizably pale.

I already... I already...

Reaction Formation

Things got better,
but of course they shall return
to the sorry state
I just emerged from.

And I hope that things do get fucked up...
I NEED the pain to be inspired,
and I need the inspiration to be productive...
and that's what makes me happy.

If Steph hadn't left,
I'd still be scared all the time...
I'd have never met my family, met myself,
gone to Burning Man, or met Lo.

If Lo hadn't left,
there is no way that I'd be as inspired and on fire
as I find myself to currently be.
I wouldn't have started painting
or understood myself
nearly as well as I do comparatively.

I might never have made it back to this place
without the reckless abandonment of that woman.

But I wont be here for long, perhaps.
I am no less damagable by dishonor,
no more brilliant when it comes time to decide...
And always, the voices inside
will tell me I am wrong;
to what extent my mind might listen
shall be revealed in the execution.

"I've always missed you,"

she said as our eyes locked. No better metaphor could have been spoken by this creature; she got out of the car. Another miss, another glance.

But "always"?

I don't know what she meant, really. I can only imagine that the last nine months of my life have brought me here to hear it. There is something wicked in the air of her breath, perhaps, and the poison just has yet to kick in. She walked into her house. Maybe I just missed the point.

What twisted wills some have, to wind me up and spin me away. I suppose it is fair treatment for such hopeful eyes in these caves of sharp crystal. Impaled by betrayal; left to die at the shard. I drove away.

It is a matter of worth to these women, and my time's long run out. Another miss, another chance.

Angels Anonymous - The Seduction

Unclasped and on top
as the power consumes
the momentum you've found
in this silk softened room

You are bold and on fire,
the blaze now contained
as a tool to explode,
and thrust forth from the pain

There's a light in your palm
so please unclench your grasp,
for as soon as it breathes:
epiphany unmasked

Luscious soft and sweet in grace
and stronger than the heat of light,
your lips are cream and spice
with skin of heaven's sight

This prey is amazed
and you are ready to pounce;
the time is standing still
no seconds left to count

Inside of the signs, heavy air
wraps your fingers around
the only anchor to reality
that tonight has found

Extacy contorts the formation
of this approach towards completion
and a glance in the mirror
reveals your many souls as one

and earth,
I thank the planet for your birth


Like Cattle

The laughter is slaughter.

I can only resist with half a heart
when the glow calls my name
from a salty distance.

I have so much to build
and take apart,
as all of this sorrow
has brought with it
a priveleged look into my self
and into the self made possible
by devotion and sacrifice.

Here, in love, and scorned;
I am a rose blossom explosion of a man.

Peace and goodwill, traveler,
though I cannot propose such a thing
without laughing a bit,
for the slaughter was silent.

Ice in the Winter ("menteur")

Cold calculations 
apparent on face,
you spoke like its over, 
I'm quickly replaced.

It's all been a ruse,
an illusion, a game.
Your words are like water,
your eyes are the same.