She mentioned he was flawed but I saw it in her eyes That hunger which replaced her common sense at times Didn’t matter he was wanting, so long as he was wanting her Just call her Miss Dysfunctional and paint her past a blur I tried a bit of reasoning – Said remember James and Tim? And Louie, Bill and Keith, and how each one left you grim? She agreed, that certainly, they all had been huge disasters… But you can’t remove your heart and fill that empty hole with plaster I told her lessons learned would save a lot of time and grief And she, in her witty way Said Love is like a thief And this boy has found his mark and wrung me out and wrung me through And love is just too powerful, and there’s nothing I can do… I shook my head After all these years I knew dread – That I’d be mopping up her tears This circus full of giddy fools Their big clown-head smiles full of drool… Oh my friend, come conquer this Can’t you see I’d be remiss To let you drive your tiny car from clown to clown in every bar? Their empty eyes and cotton candy flowers Should warn you that their love will rot your empty heart in a few hours Those slick white gloves that hide their claws… Which amaze you with tricks, to which you ooh and ahhh… This ain’t no elementary school fire drill, and you, my girl, have had your fill No more clowns in your tiny car – Leave them lounging at the bar Their confetti drinks and big black shoes – Next to the beds of other fools… She thought a bit and then she smiled Said – The right guys never been my style This big tops got to have one dressing room with a star I sighed, wondering… How many clowns can you fit in a small car?
We faced it in chorus, but absorbed it with eyes, pores, bones, spirits differently 9 paths of devastation, plowing a 10 year toxic wasteland, carving 13 canyons of separation Necrotic residue from louche lawyers and corrupt bloodlines That steel green room, with its antiseptic fringe, bland beige floors, tubes and currents, cold metal rails And walls that screamed in silence… A brutal, beautiful 1:45am last call Lucid corner hawk eyes working overtime, badge 1325 stoically, tacitly silent Sink into the wall, slide around the crime scene like a ghost, edit offenses, clock out – Comatose manacle adding insult to injury, where are the crows with that shiny key? Empty facts from incompetent voyeurs collecting butterfly samples; Ripping off delicate wings – Desecrating history, writing its tragedy with an unsterilized pen spewing bacteria ink Which could not be excised with smudging lips or two pair of zen eyes… Those last renegade bones slicing through the thick membrane of death air – Gestures bringing life to a conclusion; A modulation of disbelief and disappointment, rise and fall, rise and fall… How low can you go… (How odd the thoughts you think) The astringent, last measure of a chest expelling its final breath, like an acupunctured balloon Do not go there, into the myth of; It will make you stronger – Those whom suffer lifes brutal hypocrisies do not need conceited, reductive sentiments Time has pumiced, erased, sliced, smoothed me into exactly what my choices revealed; Decided And I am not your deterrence, so go find your own plagues, uncover your own self, dance with your own demons… Here, in this vortex of incarceration, of acrimonious disintegration – I will not let these acid riddled pages scar my mind, nor blunt my pen I will not give one second of my eternal child to the vile butchers of my reflection I will imagine, remember, put form to pieces, and keep you safe with me – Know those eyes through every door, dream, and nightmare that I’m allowed… Defining all space, time and matter, your presence was an orphic cathedral on top of fire mountain Yet love… ah love – A sophistical valentine stuffed into an elementary school, pink, haphazardly stapled construction-paper envelope – An article of faith clutched in ecstatic hands – Isn’t always enough… It can’t save the light of the festering moon, nor storm the gates of fate Can’t mutate the evil that churns behind empty eyes, nor guarantee spun sugar and unadulterated bliss Can’t bind your fingers to mine, nor keep a grown adult from becoming a little child – As the last measure of all you were is released, fingers slip though fingers And spirit steps into our ambiguity, and steps into its omniscient divinity This moment, path, this departure is its own beginning, despite being my ending Which will then become a beginning; Tucked inside, over and over, smaller and smaller like a Russian nesting doll (Ah, those remarkable thoughts) – To be held with acceptance and reverence, to witness and honor with love and direction, then The violence must be tended (Come now, stop pandering to fairytales; these are visions that will be, not that may be) With blossoming eyes, a soft heart, a childs’ spirit – A calling to undress our fallacies, frailties, lunacies, clichés and platitudes Our inconsistencies and absolutes! Do not let these feed you (Mirror, show me my beloved, show me my truth) Time, fantasy, reality, love, hate; These are not our enemy – We are Your shadow kissed the eerie hallway, scurried down its scrapbook walls and I followed Like I was chasing a hummingbird into a hurricane While she stayed behind for a love letter kiss farewell Your cooling – Her meditative night sky, last goodbye, an insistence toward distance – Lantern stars softly illuminating drifting snowflakes that covered the last February footsteps… I chased your shadow until it turned into shimmery strands permeating; Seed, stone, fur, skin – Energy assimilating Your name rested on my lips, my snowy footprints shaky, my eyes, lips, and the smoke blue That I exhaled in the parking lot, as I stared into my numbness The stars spelled your notoriety and amused the moon Wind howled like a wolf, its caramel-eyed planchettes waiting for questions – So real that I looked for tracks across the concrete; City was your nature The rain came pouring down, pounding like a 48 foot tall hammering man, and I knew then That the Emerald City sky was saying goodbye Life bites with savage abandon, chews away what once was; Turns familiarity backwards – With a simple gesture like opening a drawer and reaching inside… Secrets come undone Desert sky, tequila-etched fingerprints smearing inky worm shadows on a one page manuscript… Shadows that blur and obscure what you thought that you once were Edits, now my duty, because you’ve always been notoriously late, including to your own funeral – Stuck on Snoqualmie in a four hour blizzard… hey hey, my my… Some things are to be expected, and then you find that one page manuscript Its words wilt petals on the funeral flowers that flood this sunless house of heartache artifacts You exhale your desolate forlornness into the dusty air of this melancholy museum As words run backward and inside out; Lies in truth, and truth in lies… (Come hither madness, cut out my eyes!) One page written in actuality, becoming unwritten in reality – Pen name missing an author No one knew he was a nom de plume until the 13th hour A pseudonym
Go where the water runs red with my blood Where the soil runs rust with my bones To the West, the remains of my fallen dreams, to the East, my deadened soul… You know what you did You know who you are Time has a way of melting the violence but still leaves poisonous scars… Prayer into dance, knife into skin, salt into wound while the earth swallows screams Sweet sage tentacles sweeping every inch of my wormwood mind to wipe you clean… In the hall of infallible mirrors, take off that blindfold, open those guilty, corrupt eyes – Mange! Mange! The glass reflects the truth; Your professors text of anagrams squeals your disguise That heart-shaped swamp smeared with rancid deceit, self centered orgies, and cheap, delusional truths Your spewing mouth deserves a barbed needle and arsenic thread – Those formaldehyde veins, wasted stone-eyes, toxic stench of hemlock that disturbs the dead… And now, twisted ruins decaying, mind the carcass of debris It would be lovely to give you just one taste of what you’ve done to me All the nuns are running mad The angels tear their wings in blessed fits while demons dissect hope You reduced me to a voyeur, hiding behind the curtain with haunted, melting eyes You sought what is mine with an illiterate mind, but the pages he penned clearly defined – I am his light, and his dark, his eternal breath – Loved before time birthed our reflection into existence; Conjured by his thirst for my spirit Our typescript of paraphed prose a lush novella bound by celestial blood; Pay attention to chapter and verse – I am his only blessing. I am his only curse I am indelible centuries and hold all dreams in my lacerated arms – When there is no faith to oil the hands of time, smooth its aloof, apathetic philosophy… When there is no charity to lure the moon from her desolate mood I am insanity methodically wrapped in sane If I bothered to hate you If I wasted my time… It would mean that you meant something to me When you only meant something to yourself Squirm in the corner with your straightjacket psychosis With your insipid, narcissistic, inanimate, detestable soul Claw the paint from the walls with your tart nails in a dramatic fit While your foul breath howls, spews your toxic disease – In an effort to make yourself relevant The succulent divine will never be your understanding – No summery absinthe clouds painting animals and daffodils in your sky Eternal love bound in amaranth laces… Moon night, moonlight, lipstick kisses trailing down Cosmic coupling, chemical bondage, fragrant flesh, exquisite derangement An innate knowing, no mortal or universal force will sever ecstasy dark and beautiful – These chandelier layers of agony confection Climatic lust and love connection Sutured souls held captive willingly; Define Loves reason and its season Soul eater, anathema… You will never have mine, nor thine – Your existence is a mediocre nuisance, a pathology to be excised… I have no remorse regarding your birth; The path to you brought mine to me Your smoky shadow smudged into the void with no regret – Cool night air and cigarette amulet; Curls of smoke hearts and poppy stars beneath a twilight sky Moon tide baptizes me, takes you out to sea… Lesson learned, lesson learned, have you heard? Wide awake eyes speak in wordless poetry Loves definition is his and mine alone, and no other one, no other one will come between… Feral, fetish, exultation, sacred, mystical, transcendental Deviant devotion, spirit ejaculation, divine ferociousness, luminous sublime Atemporal Love, its perfume wafting through all dimensions, peculiarities, complexities and time
Theater of Sorrows 